Chapter 2

2 months ago

Sydell

@dellzcreationz

Dargah

The air around the dargah was quiet, sacred, and still—just like Ibaadat’s heart. Draped in a soft peach dupatta, she stood near the altar, eyes closed, whispering her deepest wish into the divine silence.

She quietly whispers in a low voice “Ya Allah... please, Subhan humein apne dil ki baat bata de. Mera dil jo mehsoos kar raha hai, woh galat na ho." (Ya Allah… please. Let Subhan tell me how he feels. Let my heart not be wrong about him.)

Just then, the sound of anklets echoed across the marble floor. Ibaadat opened her eyes to see Mannat walk in, her face glowing with hope. She stepped toward the altar, folded her hands, and bowed her head in prayer. Ibaadat watched quietly from near a pillar.

When Mannat finished, she turned and left without seeing her sister. But the few words she whispered loud before leaving struck Ibaadat like lightning:

"Ya Allah, please meri dua qubool karo ki Subhan sirf humein chunne , hum unse beyhadh mohabbat karte hai".(Ya Allah, please accept my prayer—let Subhan choose only me. I love him deeply, with all my heart.)

A strange stillness fell over Ibaadat. Her heart twisted painfully. She clutched her dupatta tighter and slowly turned away. The decision formed without a second thought.

She would step back. For Mannat. For her sister’s happiness. Even if it broke her own heart.

In the Garden of Akhtar House

Later that evening, Ibaadat sat alone on the stone bench beneath the old frangipani tree. The wind rustled the leaves gently, and memories of childhood drifted back—those endless afternoons of stolen glances, shared secrets, and silly fights with Subhan.

A smile tugged at her lips as she softly began to sing their childhood anthem:

“Teri Meri Dosti Ka Aasman… Jaane Kahan…”

“Tere Mere Faasle Jo Kho Rahe Hai Zameen Pal Pal Yahan…”

The song was barely a whisper on her lips, but before she could complete the verse, a familiar voice picked up from behind her.

“Wohooo…”

Startled, she turned. Subhan was standing a few feet away, hands in his pockets, his eyes unreadable—but his voice held warmth.

He walked closer, his tone gentle yet intense.

“So you remember this song.
You’re the one who used to send me audio recordings of it, right?
The love poems… the anonymous messages…
It was you all along, wasn’t it? So You’re Sweetheart?”

Ibaadat stayed silent.

“It wasn’t Mannat,” he continued, his voice rising slightly, not in anger but revelation. “She doesn’t even read novels. I saw that book—your book—on your shelf. That’s when it all made sense.”

His eyes searched hers.

“All this time… I thought it was Mannat. But it was you.”

She finally nodded, a tear slipping down her cheek.

“Yes… I am that girl. I love you, Subhan. I always have.
But Mannat loves you too. And I… I can’t watch her suffer.
Please… please marry her. For me.”

There was a beat of silence. Then—

“No.”

Subhan’s voice was firm, his jaw clenched. Without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving Ibaadat frozen in place.

Inside SM Mansion

Subhan stormed into his room, his mind a whirlwind. He didn’t even notice Hafeez standing near his room door until he spoke.

“Subhan,” his father said, gently but firmly, “you need to tell Mannat the truth. That your heart belongs to Ibaadat, not her. Don’t lie to yourself—or to her. One day, you’ll regret the silence more than any mistake.”

Subhan dropped into the armchair, hands running through his hair.

Moments later, Kaynaat entered the room, her expression full of quiet understanding.

“Your Abbu is right, beta,” she said softly. “It’s never too late to tell the truth. If your heart knows who it beats for… don’t hide it.”

Subhan looked at both of them—his heart heavy but finally clear.