Risen from dust

Twenty Two

Noor found herself captivated by the enchanting cityscape of Islamabad, a stark contrast to the bustling streets of Gujrat and Lahore she had grown accustomed to. The lush greenery, majestic mountains, and pristine air breathed new life into her weary soul. With each passing moment, as the car delved deeper into the heart of the city, Noor felt a sense of serenity wash over her, as though she was leaving behind the scars of her past and stepping into a realm of hope and possibility. Seated in the passenger seat next to the driver, Noor couldn't help but steal occasional glances at the rearview mirror, where Zaaviyar sat with his mother in the back. His piercing eyes, filled with a haunting depth, seemed to mirror the hidden pain within her own heart. It was a juxtaposition that intrigued her—how someone so outwardly captivating could be harboring wounds that ran so deep.

"Amma, I have to ask you, how can you trust someone you don't know so easily?" Zaaviyar, seeking amusement in his boredom, aimed to provoke a reaction from Noor.

"Who said that I trust her? These people are never to be trusted. I'm just sick and tired of that old hag rejecting every maid we assign her. Your Abba jaan insists I find daadi someone to her liking, and Noor just fits that description. I will always keep an eye on her," Mrs. Mehnaz replied, her words laced with a mix of cynicism and weariness. Surprisingly, Noor remained unfazed by their conversation. She understood the inherent skepticism in placing trust in strangers, especially within the confines of such a lavish household. If she were in Madam Mehnaz's position, she wouldn't have easily trusted a newcomer either. It was a natural response for anyone concerned about their safety and well-being. As the car pulled up to a grand mansion, Zaaviyar, unable to contain his impatience, hastily jumped out before the vehicle had even come to a complete stop. In his haste, he "accidentally" grazed Noor's head, an act that revealed his disdain for those who projected innocence and purity. Now that they were under the same roof, Zaaviyar relished the idea of causing some mischief and amusement at Noor's expense.

"Why did you hit me, Zaaviyar? You animal!" Noor's voice echoed with a mix of pain, indignation, and a simmering anger that could no longer be contained.

As soon as the words spewed out of her mouth, Noor felt a sharp blow on her face. Mehnaz's slap was so forceful that it sent Noor tumbling to the ground, her cheek stinging with pain. "What did I tell you before? You address him as Sahab jee, and how dare you call him an animal? You and him aren't even on the same level. Don't even look at him unless you're spoken to. Understood?" Mehnaz's voice reverberated with anger, filling the air with tension. The commotion drew the attention of Mehnaz's daughters and husband, who rushed out, their faces etched with concern.

Zaaviyar, overwhelmed with a mixture of guilt and fear, felt a pang of remorse. He wanted to stand up for Noor, to intervene and stop the brutality, but his own paralyzing terror held him back. In that moment, he turned around and left, escaping from the scene. Noor's presence and her ability to stir conflicting emotions within him left him feeling bewildered and tormented.

"Jee, madam," Noor whispered, her voice barely audible. She realized that her hopes for a fresh start and happiness were shattered, replaced by the harsh reality of her situation. Now, she stood alone, devoid of the support of Amma jee and Hira. Determined to carry on, she picked herself up, brushed off her abaya, and waited silently for further instructions, knowing that her every move would now be under scrutiny.

"Who is this girl, Mehnaz?" Ibrahim, her husband, inquired with curiosity. Mehnaz's daughters, eager to know more, gathered around their father. "Yes, Amma, who is she? She's beautiful," exclaimed Zenia, an enchanting 8-year-old, peering out from behind her father's leg.

"She's a nobody, Zenia, just a maid assigned to take care of your daadi and the house. You must never speak to her," Mehnaz sternly replied to her youngest daughter. Noor was taken aback witnessing Mehnaz's harsh treatment even toward her own children. No longer did Noor feel sorry for herself alone; it seemed that this woman's coldness extended to her own family. The other girl, Rabail, radiated beauty like her brother. Her eyes exuded warmth and friendliness, as if she wanted to convey something to Noor, but the words remained trapped within her.

"Zenia, Rabail, go get dressed. We are going to a party tonight," Mehnaz commanded, her tone leaving no room for objections.

"But Mama..." Rabail started to protest, her voice filled with a hint of childishness.

"Don't make me repeat myself, Rabail. And don't behave like a child. You're a grown woman!" Mehnaz interjected sharply, cutting off her daughter's plea.

As Mehnaz busied herself with scolding her children, Noor felt an intense gaze upon her. She raised her eyes to meet the piercing stare of Zaaviyar, who had just emerged from the shower, standing on the balcony. He offered her a shy smile before retreating back inside. Noor couldn't fathom the complexity of this young man. One moment, he displayed bullying behavior, and the next, he emitted an undeniable charm that intrigued her.