Chapter 5

4. 

"Ujhdo se lamho ko aas teri"

Asad 

Even though I couldn't hear what her lips whispered, her frozen stance told me the answer.  

My mind was spinning from the unknown fear and a million questions. I had told myself pretty solidly that Siddiquis were behind the catastrophe.  

They were ‘the original low lives’ anyway. When they couldn't get control or hold of my success, they tried to thwart it.  

But Ammi?  

That part didn't quite add up. Why her? Targeting Ammi seemed too satanic, even for them. 

Was it like Zoya suggested? Was it still my uncle's gundas who had cleverly locked themselves up in jail and then sent another man out to redeem their izzat? It was entirely possible that an inspector was in on this and was bribed heavily as we sat here and tried to decipher the answers.  

But they were broadcasted on the news in daylight, weren't they? At some point the bribery gets out of hand and it gets too hard to control who you can protect. There was only so much money that could clear their name once their faces had been flashed over all the news channels. 

It made me sick. All of it.  

"His shirt" Ms. Farooqui yelped. I didn't how to react to her. "His shirt Mr. Khan" she implied as if I was privy to her thoughts and knew whatever that meant. 

She read my eyes then and explained.  

“When I was fighting his attack off” my jaw tightened involuntarily “he realized he wouldn't be able to shoot again and so he started escaping. I tried to stop him, to see his face, reveal his identity somehow. He pushed me off him and I landed on the ground. I latched onto his leg in the craziness; he violently jerked my hold off him and said and I quote "bloody bi*ch." My head spun more than it already was. 

She confirmed what I was thinking “That confirms he was not a Mangalpur accomplice, since they would not know english well enough to holler curses like that. And most importantly Mr. Khan..." she leaned over and looked into my eyes deeply, coming close face to face "...when I got up on my feet and chased him down the hallway again, his shirt collar tore off and dropped on the floor. If he is a hired hardened criminal, which seems the case, we will find a file on him. We have his DNA!” she jumped ecstatically and ran towards the door. I tried to follow suit calling her out to slow down and lower the volume button while she was at it.

"Miss Farooqui?!...ahh" 

“Allah Miyan!” she gasped and ran back to where I now kneeled on the floor. The sudden move had sent shocking waves of agony throughout my spine and shoulder blades.  

“Oh God, are you okay?” 

The phrase sent me down memory lane when I had seen her face for the first time up close and asked her the same question when my car had almost run her down. 

 ‘Are you okay?’  

I had voiced with my words curiosity then, her words now voiced worry and maybe a hint of pain. Her big brown eyes looked at me with such perturbation I forgot my own for a second. 

Why was it that her concern for me fanned feelings of unexplained validation. Even though the mind fought tooth and nail for not falling, the heart found ways for reassurance. I hated the fact that I felt deeply for this girl. I could never give her what she might expect from me.  

And yet every touch full of concern sent my heart flying. My sane brain said she was an empathetic woman, and this would be anyone's logical response, but I liked daydreaming in the middle of a crisis. 

As she helped me up to the bed, her patient hands tucked me in diligently. Her stance and voice carried a mild warning as she left the room “Stay put here, I will go look for it and then bring it back if I find anything. Okay?” I nodded helplessly. I didn’t want to push my agony to its extremes and end up becoming useless altogether.  

“Allah miyan, madad karna” I heard her whisper as she closed the door behind her. 

*** 

I looked up at the ceiling, waiting for the seconds to pass me by. The clock on the wall moved in its own melody, it ticked like the nerves in my head. 

Please God, let there be something! 

The door cracked and I saw Zoya’s figure enter.  

Oh, that’s not good.  

She wasn’t jumping for joy at the discovery of first clue. It only meant... 

“Okay, so good news and bad news” she said as she faced me, shoulders wound tight. 

“What’s the good news?” 

“Oh wow, you really like to end at a depressing note, don’t you?” I raised a brow at her. 

“Says a lot about you as a person, I don’t know” she shrugged casually. 

My hand moved to its original spot; the bridge of my nose. “Ms. Faaroqui?” 

“Right! Right, so the good news is we know we have a piece of evidence.” 

I queued in her silence for the opposite news and braced myself.  

“The bad news is people in this house work way too hard and they cleaned up the little pathway where I chased him, most likely dumping the collar.” 

“Dammit” my fist hit the bed before I noticed. I winced as the blaze of torment shot up my arm. 

Zoya cried out loud “Asad”  

I looked at her surprised through my crumpled face. 

She only huffed at me “Puri baat sun ne ka kya lenge aap? I was going to add to our list.” 

“Add what?” 

“The househelp did clean the house but all the garbage went into the main bin outside, near our adjoining walls to the back street. I looked from the terrace, and it hasn’t been emptied out yet. We might still have a chance.” 

The thought of me stepping into garbage with a milllion bacteria and germs gave me a panic attack. The OCD I refused I had, kicked in.  

She must have seen something on my face when she said “You can't go in there, remember we have to keep your wound sanitized. I’ll go” she added bravely and continued “You are my watch out. Since we are not informing that policeman outside our main door what we are upto.” 

She was right, until we figured this out, even the police were a hazard to our secret investigation. 

I nodded feeling sorry and extremely grateful to her. This was our only chance at a fast revival of facts. 

“Let’s go.” 

*** 

“Careful Ms. Farooqui. Make sure there is nothing sharp in there first.” I said as quietly as I could. The useless police guard was passed out at the main gate. They hadn’t even put a patrol at the back of the house.  

Our safety was in our own hands.  

I saw her butt wiggle in the air as she attempted to set foot in the bin. 

Curse my biological male brain to make its appearance at the worst time possible.  

*Crunch* 

Yuck, that didn’t sound good.  

“Allah Miyan, why do people throw out half eaten food in the trash?” 

“Are you sure, it’s not one of your pizzas” The words were out before I realized. 

She glared at me. Halfway inside the dumpster now, standing on whatever the crunchy sound was, she stood facing me with hands on her hips.  

“Are you kidding me right now?” she said with such annoyance, I couldn’t suppress the smile that passed my face. 

She blinked surprisingly but couldn’t keep the disgust off her face for long as she bent down to look for the object of our desires. 

Thank God she was wearing gloves. It wasn’t easy to convince her. Only after I had reminded her that she was supposed to help me dress my wounds, she had quietly taken the gloves from my hand and put them on. I also discovered she had changed into a faded pair of jeans and a white top with various haldi marks on it.  

“I am a messy eater. Why do you look so surprised? In any case, I’m dumping these clothes after my trash diving” she had retaliated to my silent look after I’d gazed at her questioningly up and down.  

As she dove through the mess, a few strands of her hair escaped from her messy bun and stuck to the sweat that was forming on her neck.  

I never would have thought that I would be looking at a girl digging through trash surrounded by the funkiest of smells and thinking she was... cute. 

I would never understand the mystery of male brain. I used to think I was logical. That thought went out the window after we came back from Mangalpur. The ina.... 

“Milgaya!” Zoya’s boisterous voice interrupted my inner monologue. 

Her eyes widened as she panicked; she might have been too loud. She was about to put her hand on her mouth as a reflex when I screeched “Don’t” 

She realized what she was about to do and dropped her hand to the side. 

“Milgaya” she whispered at me triumphantly. 

***

Edit:

🥀Song in title: Noor- e - khuda

❤️Title credit: SoulfulDreamer117