Prologue

Waqt Zaya

@WaqtZaya

Prologue

"As-sad tum readdie hu-ye bii?" Azam  aged 5, with incisors missing,  yelled as he entered the room.

"Ho raha hoon. Mere Baap. Rukh bhii." Came the troubled reply from the walk in closet.

"Ab-ii tak tum readdie nahi huye! Neeche sab intehzar kar rahehai!" Azam animatedly replied, flaring his hands up in the air. He climbed onto his stool to reach the taller man.

 "Neeche sare gueshtswait kar rae hai.. Dulhannn ke ane ke baad ayoghe kya?" The little man dressed brightly in a traditional pair of white sherwani with a red duppatta secured tightly around his neck, complained.

Asad looked at the boy with one of his rare bright smiles as the younger verified him from head to toe, like a jeweller inspecting adiamond.

"Itne gandhi si smile mat do.. Dulhhan bhag jayegi" Azam slapped with his tiny hands across Asad's face instead. Asad chuckled and picked the boy up in his arms and faced the mirror.

"Maine Dulhanan ko dekaaa. Badi Ite-hm lagh raiii thi!!" Azam winked.

"Aazoo !.." Asad rolled his eyes in mock anger, but his ears had turned a lighter shade of red so followed his cheeks.

"Dulhaa?? Buss Salman K-khaan hota toh be-be-ttherr hota!" Azam chimed naughtily as Asad pulled his ear lightly.

"Par Mama kehti hai isse bethtter bar-ghain nai ho sakta. NoNo." He added back making Asad chuckle again.

"Tumhe Dulha Qubool hai Aazoo ?" Asad asked looking into the shining eyes of the little man as if he was seeking consent from the bride's father.

Azam animatedly tilted his head back as if he was lost in the nuisance of the universe. Asad narrowed his eyes looking at his antics. After awhile Azam replied gravely, "Mama ko jab Qubhool hai toh mujhe bi Qubhool hai!Yes." Asad arched one of his eyebrows at the comment as if asking the reason behind.

"Salman Khan bethhter op-ton tha!" Azam replied shrugging both his shoulders. Asad erupted into laughter and tickled the little guy. After a while when they were done with their giggles, Asad placed the child on the dresser and proceeded to comb his messed up hair and fix his clothes.

"As-sad! Aj champu jaise hair mat karo." Azam protested nodding left to right rigorously leaving Asad exasperated.

"Mama daategi! Phir rona mat!"

"Kaise daategi.. Unki nazar toh Doolhe par hogi!" Azam chimed back.

"Chup besharam!"

"As-sad bahut ho gaya readie hona ab chalo..Mama no likelahte." Azam hushed tugging Asad's maroon duppata which he was again fixing.

"I hate this thing." Asad complained. "What am I supposed to do with this!"

"Hoghaya ab chaloo. See-ee-hraah aur aur woh Saah-faah kahan hai? Loo chaloo-o" Azam pushed Asad with his tiny hands.

"Main kaise pehnu.. yea tumhe pehenwana hai." Asad stated ashe carefully forwarded the maroon safa which was ornated with huge gem, and pointed at the sehra placed on the dresser, towards Azam . Azam scrunched his nose up as the strong fragrance of the flowers hit his senses. He carefully gathered the Safa in both of his hands as Asad kneeled on his knees to meet his level. Azam  had seen in movies how to place the safa as well as the knot the sehra and he did exactly.

 "Ab chalo!" Azam announced when done.

 "Nikaah meri hai tujhe badi jaldi hai!" Asad sarcastically commented as he pulled the little man's chubby cheeks.

"Mujhe mere Abbu se jaldi milna hai.. CHALO!"

Asad laughed heartily at him as he let Azam pull him by all his might, downstairs.

While unravelling the lost lanes.. 

Under the caress of the signs which are strange..

I've lost the direction of the known lanes.. 

These cloudy lanes..

These brightened lanes.. 

Are to be blamed.. 

For I have lost all the thoughts 

That the Universe once beheld... 

Born of the Khan clan, who were renowned for being the top grade legal representatives of the country, Asad, even before his birth, was  destined to follow the footsteps of his family legacy.  With the shrewdness of a cunning Fox and the passion of a hungry Lion, Asad Ahmed Khan was used to getting things done in his way. His manipulative skills and the razor sharp intellect would leave his classmates and teachers boggled since his childhood and made his friends frustrated. It took him minimal efforts to even secure his place permanent in the war-field, unlike others who had their hair burnt white without much success.Contemporaries hated him, politicians loved him, and younger generation aspired to be him. He was a man who was hated by most yet admired by all. But Asad had no affections for anyone. Having lost his mother even before he could even remember her face and with a grief-stricken strict father made Asad grow quick tempered for his life served him with hard lessons one after another and ultimately topped it with the garnishing of one sided love in early youth that he turned somewhat into a Misanthrope. Not entirely as he did have a heart which was unfortunately buried six feet under in the grave of hate, loathe and distrust. Until the day Azam came knocking into his life rekindling the dormant fire of love lost within him.