The Entangled Tales

⓽

عکس ریزہ ریزہ ہے اور آئینہ محفوظ ہے...

Samavia sat cross-legged on her bed, her gaze fixed on her phone screen, where texts from Tazman scrolled by. She noticed that her messages to him far outnumbered his replies, which were always brief and to the point. Yet, amidst the exchanges were flirtatious jokes, complaints, and even the occasional smiling emoji.

Her heart ached for him. She had picked up her phone countless times since morning, hovering her finger over the call button next to his name. But the fear of disturbing him held her back. "Nikah hogaya iska matlab yeh tou nahi ke woh sirf mujhse baat karne ke liye hi bethey hain." (Just because we got married doesn’t mean he’s sitting there only to talk to me.) Shaking off her musings, she inhaled deeply.

The lingering effects of their date night left her giddy. It had been a beautiful, starry evening—a step forward in their new life together. It marked their first outing alone, and the way he held her, spoke to her, and referred to her as his wife filled her with a sense of being wanted like never before.
And *oh my* those intoxicating kisses...
Her heart gave a vigorous thud and her tummy did a small backflip. Samavia bought her hand up to fan her face, the cool wind doing absolutely nothing for her escalated heartbeats.
Each of those moments drew them closer to each other than they had ever imagined possible.

After a few seconds of deep breathing and centering her thoughts back on track, she pocketed her phone and exited her room.

***

Samavia stood beside her mother-in-law in the kitchen, enjoying the shared activity of cooking. She had developed a passion for experimenting with new recipes, and weekends often found her and her mother-in-law engrossed in preparing Afghani Pulao. As they busied themselves with the aromatic dish, Samavia's phone interrupted the tranquility with an unknown caller. She glanced at the screen but decided to ignore it, focusing instead on rinsing the rice.

The persistent ringing drew her attention again, but she dismissed it, assuming it was the same caller. Then, she heard her aunt's voice, "Samavia dear, answer the call. Who is calling?"

"Pta nahi koi unknown number hai." ("I don't know, it's an unknown number) she replied.

“Dekh lo kon hai, yeh mai kar leti hoon. Lao mujhey do." (Go see who it is, I'll handle the food.) Her aunt offered.

She picked up her phone and went out of the kitchen. "Hello." she answered tentatively.

Silence greeted her from the other end. "Hello? Kon hai?" (Hello? Who is this?) she asked again.

"Jawab dena hai ya mein call band karoon?" (Do you intend to answer or should I end the call?) She asked again, her tone a bit louder than before to get her point across.

And a voice finally responded. "Abhi baat shuru hi kahan hui hai jo tum call band karne ka bol rahi ho?" (We've barely started talking, and you're already threatening to end the call?) A voice she could never forget, the one that haunted her dreams, the one she ran away from, yet ended up in the very place where that voice echoed. The voice she always wanted to escape from.

"K..kon?" (Who are you?)

"Pehnchan to tum gayi ho meri jan to ye sawal kyun." (If you recognize me, why ask such a question?) She can easily detect the mocking smile in his tone.

"Tumhari himmat kese hui hai mujhe phone karne ki aur tumhein mera number kaha se mila?" (You have the audacity to call me, and how did you get my number?) She replied, her grip tightening on the phone.

"Himmat to tum janti ho kitni hai mujh mein aur jaha tak rahi number ki baat to tumhein ye maloom hona chahye k tum tak pohnchne k liye mein har rasta dhoond sakta hoon phir ye to sirf ek number tha." (You know well enough the courage I possess, and as for obtaining your number, you should know I can find any means to reach you; after all, it's just a number.)

She couldn’t tolerate it anymore, all she wanted was to confront him and shoot him dead. "Bakwas band karo apni aur dobara mujhe phone kiya to acha nahi hoga." (Enough of your nonsense. Stop bothering me, and if you call me again, it won't end well.) With that, she ended the call without waiting for his response.

As soon as she hung up, the phone rang again, displaying the same unknown number. She rejected the call once more.

Shortly after, a message notification appeared: "Pick up the call, sweetheart, or else it won't be good for you." Without hesitation, she blocked his number.
       
Adrenaline still coursed through her body, churning in her gut but she was determined to put an end to the unwelcome intrusion.

***

As the first light of dawn filtered through the curtains, Tazman stirred in his bed, blinking away sleep. Stretching his arms above his head, he yawned deeply and swung his legs over the side of the mattress. Another day awaited him, full of possibilities and challenges.

A while later, Tazman emerged from the bathroom, a towel slung around his neck. He dressed quickly in his workout gear, the fabric clinging comfortably to his frame. Grabbing his running shoes, he headed downstairs, the scent of freshly brewed coffee wafting through the air.

Stepping out into the crisp morning air, Tazman set off on his usual jogging route, the rhythmic pounding of his feet against the pavement a familiar cadence. The world around him slowly woke up, birds chirping in the trees and the distant hum of traffic becoming more pronounced with each step.

His thoughts went to the woman who’s becoming his whole world gradually. A weighty realization pressed upon his thoughts like a heavy fog. He couldn't shake the memories of times past, moments where he had unfairly judged his wife, perhaps even unknowingly subjected her to mental anguish with his doubts and suspicions. But now, clarity washed over him like a cleansing tide. He saw her for the pure soul she always was, her wisdom shining through the shadows of his previous misconceptions. With each step, a resolve solidified within him. He vowed to support her wholeheartedly, to liberate her from any lingering traces of character assassination. Their future together shimmered with the promise of mutual respect and understanding. And as he walked, he carried not just his own burdens, but also the weight of his commitment to stand by her side through every trial and triumph that lay ahead.

As Tazman's brisk pace carried him forward, he caught sight of the postman conversing with the watchman in front of his house. With a slight detour, he approached his house, retrieving the envelopes from the watchman before hurrying inside. Aware of his looming office schedule, he placed the envelopes on the table and proceeded to take a quick shower. After his shower and a hastily devoured breakfast, he glanced at his laptop bag and noticed the unopened envelope lying on the table. Despite his time constraints, he couldn't ignore the gnawing curiosity. Snatching up the envelope, he stashed it in his office bag for later inspection.

Upon reaching his office, he wasted no time in retrieving the envelope from his bag. Tearing open the seal, he withdrew the contents, his eyes widening in disbelief as he beheld what lay inside. It was a photograph, old and faded, depicting a scene he thought he'd left behind forever. His heart raced as he studied the photographs. But it wasn't just any photographs; it was a piece of past he never thought he'd see. And as Tazman stared at the familiar faces staring back at him, he realized that whatever lay ahead would be anything but ordinary. His voice escaped in a strangled sound, followed by an expletive-laden question,
"What the fuck is all this bullshit?!!!"
Looking up from the disturbing contents, he found himself lost in thought, contemplating his next course of action with a furrowed brow.

****

As Samavia navigated through the labyrinth of shops in the bustling shopping mall, her senses were bombarded with a symphony of sights and sounds. The air was alive with the aroma of freshly baked goods from the bakery, the chatter of shoppers, and the melodious tunes emanating from the nearby music store.

Beside her, Aleena, her vivacious cousin, chattered excitedly, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. Together, they weaved through the throngs of people, their laughter mingling with the ambient noise of the mall. Samavia couldn't help but smile at Aleena's infectious energy, grateful for her company on this shopping adventure.

As they entered a store adorned with vibrant displays of clothing and accessories, Aleena's eyes lit up with delight, and she immediately made a beeline for the jewelry section, leaving Samavia to browse on her own. Lost in the sea of fabrics and patterns, Samavia's attention was suddenly drawn to an unsettling sensation creeping over her, like the prickling of invisible eyes upon her skin.

Turning around, her heart skipped a beat as she locked eyes with Hammad, a dark figure from her past she had hoped never to encounter again. His mere presence sent a chill down her spine, dredging up memories of his sinister deeds and the fear he once instilled in her, that alone was suffocating, a dark cloud looming over her sense of security.

"Hammad," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the hum of the crowd, her heart racing with a mix of fear and apprehension.

He smirked, his eyes glinting with malice as he approached her, his steps deliberate and menacing. "Surprised to see me, Samavia?" he sneered, his voice dripping with contempt.

Samavia's breath caught in her throat as she struggled to find her voice, memories of their tumultuous past flooding back to her mind. Hammad was a force of darkness, a reminder of the pain and turmoil she had endured at his hands.

"What do you want?" she managed to choke out, her voice trembling with a mixture of fear and defiance.

Hammad's smirk widened into a cruel grin as he reached out and grabbed her elbow, his grip tight and unyielding. "I told you I wouldn't let you go," he growled, his voice low and menacing. "How dare you get married to that Tazman."

Samavia's heart pounded in her chest as she felt the weight of his words, the threat of his presence suffocating her. She knew all too well the depths of Hammad's cruelty, his obsession with controlling her every move.

"You were mine and will always be mine," he continued, his voice dripping with possessiveness. "Just wait till I snatch you from this whole world."

Samavia's breath caught in her throat as she stared into Hammad's cold, unyielding gaze, a sense of dread settling over her like a heavy cloak. But deep within her, a flicker of defiance burned bright, a resolve to break free from his grasp and forge her own path forward. With a steely glare, she wrenched her arm free from his grasp and backed away, her heart pounding with determination.

"I will never be yours, Hammad," she declared, her voice ringing with conviction. "You can't control me anymore. Now let go, or I’ll shout” She threatened her voice quivering with defiance.

For a moment, Hammad hesitated, his gaze flickering with uncertainty. Then, with a scoff, he released her, but not before delivering a chilling warning.

“I am letting you go for now,” he said, his tone dripping with menace, “but remember, I will come back to get what was meant to be mine. No matter what I have to do.”

With a final glare, he turned on his heel and disappeared into the crowd, leaving Samavia, trembling in his wake. As she rejoined Aleena, a sense of unease lingered in the pit of her stomach, a foreboding reminder of the darkness that lurked just beyond. But amidst the fear, a spark of determination ignited within her, a resolve to confront the demons of her past and protect the newfound happiness she had fought so hard to attain.

****

Hello, beautiful bookworms!

I know, I know, it's been ages but I'm back with the update, just as promised (cue the confetti)!

I hope you had as much fun reading the latest chapter as I did writing it. Let me know your thoughts—I'm all ears (figuratively, of course)!

Don't forget to ⭐ and comment!

Laters,
KiKi. ❤️