"Yaad rakhna, yaad rahogi"
In the Present...
He sleeps, sprawled across the bed, hand draped around her, fisting at her kameez. His brows run smooth and a ghost of a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth even as he sleeps. Running a finger along the errant shock of hair that tumbles across his forehead, she lingers on the dark brows that she's seen lifted a million times in mischief or to goad her into challenging him. A large man, even sleeping, he thrums with energy. Her fingers trace the curves of his hand, his long almost slender fingers, the calluses, and the scars....
Flashback
"Larki, yaad rakhna, yaad rahogi"
(Girl, be sure, you will be remembered)
Hooriya
Minhal falls asleep. Hooriya picks up the book she had abandoned to tell her sister about the day's adventure. Sleep eludes her. Tonight she does not feel like thinking about Daneish's mother and her sharp-as-razor words. She feels a nervous excitement running through her veins. Quite possibly it is from the satisfaction of getting that badtameez jaahil to do the right thing. It is a welcome change from the helpless anger she has been wallowing in for the past few days. Helplessness does not suit her. All her life when facing a problem, she had charged at it head-on. But Rehaana aunty's case was different. There was nothing she could do to change Aunty's mind about her. And there was nothing she could do about how her own heart felt about Daneish. She knew while her anger at Rehaana Aunty was completely justified, at the same time she felt her total powerlessness to do anything about it.
Slowly she turns page after page until finally, the book falls from her hand. And Hooriya dreams.
Hooriya finds herself walking through her college campus. Only the place looks more arid, wild, unkempt. She knows it is her campus and Daneish is waiting for her near the fountain though in her dream the familiar world does not look quite as familiar. She pushes through the bushes and the occasional creeper swaying in her path. She stumbles across a rock. A hand reaches out. The certainty that Daneish is there to help prevent her fall makes her hold out her hand but the tug that brings her up is sharp and hard. Unlike Daneish. Unlike anyone she knew. Dark coal-black eyes stare back at her. Eyes that had glared at her through the rear-view mirror all the way to the hospital, that had tried to threaten her, that had blazed in surprise at her own fury. What was he doing in her dream?! Hooriya wakes up in utter annoyance.
Balaj
Amber’s words run through his mind. For a moment a burst of laughter breaks through his scowl. Trust a woman to come up with ‘Mohabbat’ as something to waste time on. He would be no fool in love like Chachu. What had mohabbat brought him apart from endless shame and humiliation? He had gone against the family and their traditions for his love. He had borne with the shame of going against the elders. And at the end of it all the woman he had loved had abandoned him. Separated from his daughters, living a life of loneliness and shame, Chachu was the prime example of the misery mohabbat could bring. For a moment a spark of discomfort hits him thinking back on Chachu's face during dinner. Balaj brushes it off as he stretches his arms, sending muscles rippling against the taut kurta.
Anger returns at the girl. That nameless badtameez girl who did not know what she had run into! If he had her here he would have stretched out a hand, taken that plump neck of hers and wrung it like a chicken's. If he ran into her one more time, he would have her cowering at his feet. No one got away with making Malik Balaj do anything against his will. Balaj stubs out the cigarette with force and lays back on the bed. Despite the anger and thirst for revenge, sleep comes swiftly. The frowning eyebrows straighten and Malik Balaj sleeps. He does not dream.
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