FF - A Rude Awakening COMPLETE STORY PG 145 - Page 63

Arzoo woke slowly. The dim light filtering from the glass windowpane indicated the approaching dawn. Unlike the previous night, there was no confusion as to where she was or how she had got there. After all, she had been awake most of the night. Correction. He had kept her awake for most of the night. Without moving she took in her surroundings. The pale blue bedcover was out, most of it dangling from the bed, onto the floor. She didn't know where the the pillows were because they sure were not on the bed. She found one pillow on the floor near the foot of the bed. Her head was resting on a hard male arm. The owner of the arm had his buried in her hair. And she felt him all over. His chest pressing to her back, legs tangled with hers, his palms cupping her.. She swallowed. Her illusions about herself had disintegrated during the long night. Before she fell in love, she'd never thought of herself as romantic, nor particularly physical. But nothing..nothing had prepared her for what she'd experienced in his arms. There were no words that could adequately describe what she'd felt every single time he had taken her into his arms. Nothing could have prepared her for that kind of pleasure. And she hadn't been alone, had she? He wouldn't have turned to her all those times if he didn't feel something for her, would he? The way he had kissed her, touched her, devoured her, shuddered and groaned whenever he felt her hands on him, his blissfully sighs as he burrowed into her arms.. all that meant he did feel something, didn't it?

Her heartbeat sped up. Or was he just..was I just a female body? No. Everything in her instantly rejected that thought. She could still hear his deep baritone. Arzoo..Arzoo.. The hard, hot body plastered to her body stiffened slightly, scattering her thoughts. He was awake. She swallowed again and tried to move. His palms tightened their grip halting her progress.

"I-I need to go. Restroom," she mumbled.

Slowly he moved, lying on his back, freeing her. Her burning skin chilled instantly and that chill spread through her bones as rapidly as the heat had done the previous night. She turned on her back intending to sit up but hastily dived under the covers. Her clothes! And why was he looking at her that way? She scowled. He was laughing at her. Or rather trying hard not to laugh out loud. Allah knows, not everyone can be like him, strip off and jump into the pool whenever the mood struck. Huh! Besharambaaz!

"Gabbar Chaudhary," she muttered in a low tone.

"What?" His deep, dark eyes ensnared her. Her wide eyes silently probed. No pain in them today. Paagalbaaz dil rejoiced.

"Nothing. I need my clothes." Did he need her to spell it out for him?

He looked around and finally dragged something from the floor on his side of the bed and extended it to her. His shirt. Something was better than nothing, she reminded herself. If a small part of her jumped at the chance to be surrounded by his smell for some more time, she ignored it and hastily buttoned it up before getting out of the bed. It barely covered her upper thighs and her chudi clinked softly as she tried to pull it further down. Muscles she hadn't even known she possessed protested at her every movement but she grit her teeth and walked towards the wardrobe to take her clothes for the shower. It was a sad thing that she ignored the eyes that followed her every step because if she had turned even once, she would have seen the raw yearning burning in them. It was not lust. It was not desire. It was not love. It was something that surpassed all these emotions. And it had been there for her to read. If only she had turned back once.

****

Good morning Gabbar Chaudhary

Sahir stopped wiping his hair with the towel to slant a glance at the talking parrot. "Assalam walaikum Mohtarma! Had your breakfast?"

Asharfi strawberries.

"Arre waah! Special treat! Lucky you! Wonder what I'm going to be served today." His eyes lost the smile. Arzoo was avoiding him. Was she regretting last night? Did he..did he hurt her? The mere thought turned his stomach. But her soft arms had hugged him every time. He had felt her reluctance every time they had parted during the night. And his heart rejoiced at the way she had tried to grip and hold on to him every time he had started to separate their bodies. He could still hear her every hitch in the breath, her every moan of delight and wonder. Then why the avoidance this morning? She had barely looked at him after coming out of the shower and vanished after that. He had gotten up and went for his early morning run, came back and found the coffee waiting for him. But she hadn't been there. It was time for him to leave for work now and still no sign of her.

Baharon phool barsao mera mehboob aaya hain..mera mehboob aaya hain..

Right on cue to Asharfi's song, Arzoo walked in, glowering at Asharfi. "Asharfi, chup. Allah knows where you got this weird habit of singing songs. Out now. I need to get ready or I'll be late for work."

Asharfi defied her openly and hopped on to Sahir's naked shoulder. He petted her gently. "Why are you taking out your anger on poor Asharfi?"

Becahri Asharfi, bechara Gabbar.

Arzoo raised her hand to hit the bird, "Asharfi you're so going to get it from me today, nautankibaaz!"

With a wild flutter of wings, Asharfi escaped. And before Arzoo could blink Sahir crowded in on her. She took a step back, trying really hard not to stare at his gleaming naked chest. A drop of water from his still-wet hair fell on his shoulder. She licked her suddenly dry lips. His eyes darkening further as they caught that tiny movement. He took another step towards her, effectively caging her between the wall and his hot, hard body. She tried to slide away from the side. His palms hit the wall, checkmating that move.

"I-I need to go," her voice was a thread whisper.

"You're avoiding me."

"N-no."

"Did I hurt you last night?"

That got her attention. Her startled gaze flew to his. Was that what he thought? "NO!" She lowered her voice but the vehemence in her denial reassured him and he started breathing again. "I mean no. I just.. I'm just trying to make it easy for you to avoid me."

Avoid her? When it was all he could do not to rip her dress apart with his bare hands and sink into her? His next step plastered his body to hers from chest to thigh. "Does it feel like I'm trying to avoid you?"

Arzoo couldn't think. There was something intensely erotic about her being fully dressed in his arms while he had nothing but the towel that was wrapped around his waist. He was right. She had been avoiding him. She had been scared to look at him in case his eyes told her that he regretted the previous night or worse he wished she were someone else. But now the slumberous desire in them intermingled with so much hope was showing anything but regret. Allah knows resisting him before had been almost impossible. What chance did she have now? Suddenly his fingers cupped her chin and tilted her head up to expose her neck. His eyes found the dark mark that he had left there the previous night. She had tried to cover it up by wearing a high collared purple and pink colored salwar kameez but this close to her, there was no way he could have missed it. A part of him was primitive enough to revel in the way he had branded her as his but.. His fingers glided over the mark before he bent to replace them with his lips. He kept the kiss whispery soft. Like the flutter of a butterfly.

"I'm sorry."

Arzoo arched her neck, her eyes growing half-mast while her fingers dug into his hair. His words registered slowly and she caught on the meaning only a few moments after that. A slight hesitation later she pulled his mouth away from her neck and touched his left shoulder with her fingers. Touched the bite mark that she had left. Another moment's hesitation and she raised on her toes and replaced her fingers with her lips. His entire body jerked as if her lips singed him and he held her head immobile, his palms digging into her hair as his heart thundered at this unexpected gift.

With her lips touching his shoulder she said, "I-L-Linda and others are waiting for me. I need to go."

A brief tightening of the arms surrounding her and then he let her go and stepped back. Biting back the sigh of disappointment she turned. "Suno?" Her feet halted.

Forcing his tense muscles to relax, he turned towards his wardrobe. "You guys better resolve your issues with the dressmaker before lunch time or you'll all end up stitching those outfits too."

"Gabbar Chaudhary," she muttered.

"What did you say?"

"I said, yes sir, of course sir, three bags full sir." And stormed out of the room, leaving Sahir will a reluctant grin adorning his otherwise solemn face.

****

"Excuse me sir?" Linda knocked and entered Sahir's cabin at his nod. "The dressmaker got everything sir."

"Did you insist on the deadline?" He didn't look up from his laptop. Zaki had made his first presentation to the Singapore team and he was double checking it before the conference call which would start in an hour's time.

"Yes sir."

"Good. And tell him that even an hour late and the contract with this company will be terminated. No excuses."

"Yes sir. Uh sir, shall I send the lunch in?"

"No. I'm busy right now."

A small pause and, "OK sir."

"Linda? Did Arzoo have her lunch?"

"No sir." Another small pause before she blurted, "I think she plans to eat after you do sir."

Stumped, joyous, irritated, angry. Expressions chased across his face and flashed through his eyes as he stared unseeingly at the laptop screen. "Send me the lunch."

Linda bit back her smile. "Yes sir."

****

Arzoo was on the bed, draped over her shauhar like a blanket. Sahir carefully adjusted the blanket over her before idly running his fingers through his wife's tumbled hair. Four days. Four days since that night. Four turbulence filled days and bliss filled nights. Masha Allah! Bliss didn't describe them. No words would describe how his life had been the last four days. His biwi found ways and means to drive him crazy all day alternating between mutterings of Gabbar Chaudhary and sir-ing him in the office. For a girl who threw the phone and imli seed at her boss, she sure had come a long way though. She was as bullheaded as ever but she made sure she never crossed the line of boss and intern. He would've concluded that she was separating their work and personal life except for the fact that she never ate unless he started on his lunch and if it got late, even his dinner reached him at work. When he had cornered her one day and asked, all he got was, Allah knows, if you become weak and fall sick my monthly paycheck might get delayed sir. Well, what did he expect? That she would accept and agree that she wanted to and loved to take care of him?

He scoffed silently and made a soothing noise as she frowned and moved in her sleep, her soft palm cupping his cheek before settling down once again. He closed his eyes, absorbing that small gesture. She picked her fights and needled him at every turn. But once on the bed, everything was forgotten as they came together time and again. His wife was a passionate woman by nature and that passion extended and intensified when they were together. With every minute and every hour he spent in her arms, her shyness dissipated, driving him crazier than ever before. But he wasn't about to corner and question her about it. What if she said she was just meeting her end of the deal? No matter what her reason, he didn't think he could hear such a thing from her. So he swallowed down his questions every night and drowned in her arms. The past was waiting in the wings, waiting to pounce and tear into his future but..

He caught her blissful sigh and placed a gentle, lingering kiss on her forehead and another one on the now slightly faded SaAz encrypted on her palm.

Jahannum-si duniya mein tere baahon ki Jannat milgayi..

Junoon-si ishq mein mere dil ki aarzoo khil gayi..

Holding his world in his arms, over his heart Sahir closed his eyes and succumbed to deep, dreamless sleep. After all, none of the dreams would ever come close to the reality he was living in.

****

Arzoo waited until he finished his call before giving a cursory knock on his cabin door and entering. "Sir, Shekhawat order is complete and has been dispatched. I'm off for the day." He frowned and checked his watch. It was barely five in the evening. Scowling and muttering Gubbar Chaudhary under her breath, "Personal work sir. I want to go meet my ammi. The doctor has put her on new meds. I want to see her."

"Take the car." Arzoo nodded and turned. "Ruko." Now what, she wondered. "I'll also come."

That got her attention. "You? Why?"

Sahir in the process of donning his coat stopped. "Why? Am I not allowed?"

Not knowing what to say to that, she silently followed him as he talked in his phone, cancelling his calls and rearranging his meetings for the evening. Together they reached the garage. The driver sprang to attention. But Arzoo's attention was caught by the gleaming new black Yamaha RTR that was parked right beside the car. Her eyes widened in wonder. "Whose is this? I never saw it before."

Sahir stiffened. "I thought you wanted to go see your ammi?"

She knew her shauhar well enough to realize that he was trying to evade the issue. He never lied but he was a master in manipulating a situation to suit his desire. And right now something about her question has irked him. "Tell me na. Whose is this bike?"

"Zaki got it."

"For himself?" If he knew how to evade then she definitely knew how to persist.

"Might as well use it himself. I sure am not going to."

"He got it for you? When?"

Sahir locked his jaw. "Wedding gift."

"You know how to ride a bike?" He opened his mouth to deny but the words stuck in his throat as he looked at the budding surprised joy dancing in her eyes. Reluctantly he nodded. Forgetting all about her intentions to stay detached, she clapped and started jumping up and down. "Please then we'll go on the bike na. Please Sahir. I never got on a bike after I left my scooty. It would be so much fun. Please?" She halted her flow as he started walking away. "Where are you going?"

"I can hardly ride the bike with a three piece suit now, can I?"

She clapped, whooped and paced as she waited for him to change and come. Her breath whooshed out of her when he did come. Gone was the savvy businessman and there stood..THE man. Dark blue jeans and a black leather jacket thrown over white collarless V-neck t-shirt. She hastily wiped her mouth in case she was drooling. She saw the undeniable excitement mingled with anticipation shining out of his eyes! Ya Allah! He loves to ride a bike. Then why doesn't he? Why the reluctance to even admit that Zaki had gifted it to him?

She tried to cover up her reaction by wrapping her dark maroon dupatta over her hair and neck tightly. He was already on the bike, one foot on the ground, fiddling with the helmet. "What are you waiting for?"

"I can't sit to the side on this," she admitted reluctantly.

"I'm your shauhar not a stranger who is giving you a lift. Sit astride." He put on the glasses and helmet preventing further conversation. She made a face to the back of his head before holding on to both his shoulders and sitting astride, mentally thankful for the fact that she was wearing one of her figure hugging kurta and tights instead of the flowing anarkali dress. But the way the backseat was designed, maintaining any distance was next to impossible. Not that she wanted the distance but still. Trying to show reluctance, she wrapped her arms around his waist lightly.

"Ready?" His voice was muffled through the helmet. She nodded and yelped as the bike zoomed out of the garage the next second. Her arms tightened around his waist and a wide, wide grin split her face at the feel of the wind whipping over her face as he accelerated. He was tentative at first. As if it had been a long time since he last drove. But the confidence came back quite quickly and soon they were zipping and cutting across the evening rush hour traffic. She laughed, unable to contain her joy and felt his fingers entwining with hers at his waist for a brief moment before he released them. "Enjoying?" She nodded. Since the apartment wasn't very far from Niyamat House, it wasn't a long drive but she wasn't disappointed. There would be a next time. She would make sure of it. Somehow. Just as they entered the apartment complex, Arzoo spotted Myra playing shuttle with three other girls.

"MYRA! MYRA!" She shouted and hopped down from the bike as soon as he brought it to a halt.

Myra saw her appi and throwing the shuttle racket to the ground, ran to her. In the next moment both sisters were hugging and twirling as if it had not been just days but months since they last saw each other. Suddenly Myra stopped and frowned. "Appi, who is this?" Sahir parked the bike and removed the helmet. A stunned silence and then, "JEEJU! Ya Allah APPI! It's JEEJU!" Forgetting her natural shyness, she threw herself into Sahir's arms. He returned the hug a little awkwardly but the smile said he loved his saali's spontaneous gesture of affection. Arzoo watched them indulgently.

"How are you Myra?"

"I'm fine jeeju. And you look smashing in this attire. Ek dum superstar." And she shouted at her friends. "I'll see you guys later, OK? My appi and jeeju are here." She pulled up Arzoo's hand. "This is my appi, Arzoo," and she lifted Sahir's hand. "And this is my jeeju, Sahir." Her friends waved and shouted a hello. All three waved back.

****

After another surprised yet hearty welcome from Arzoo's ammi and daadi, Nausheen had asked Sahir if he would like to have some tea. Arzoo opened her mouth to say that he only ever drank black coffee but his slight shake of head stopped her words. And now he sat in the hall sipping the adrak chai from the dainty cup while Arzoo spoke to her ammi about the doctor visit and her progress. Daadi came and sat beside him. "Nausheen is feeling much better with the new medicines beta. The doctor you've recommended is really nice." He nodded. She patted his shoulder affectionately. "The circumstances of your nikah have been unusual but both of you look good together. I'm really happy. Allah tum dono ki Jodi ko salamat rakhe."

"Jeeju, jeeju, you know our college is taking us to an excursion in a couple of weeks." Myra plopped herself beside Sahir. "Gujarat and Rajasthan. This is the permission form that my parent or guardian has to sign and I have to submit in the college." Her face was hesitant yet hopeful. "Will you sign it please?"

Daadi frowned. "You get it signed by Nausheen or Arzoo usually na Myra."

"Yeah but that was before. Now I have my jeeju na."

Sahir took the form and read through it. He asked how many teachers would be accompanying and the complete schedule of the trip, all of which Myra happily provided. He signed it saying, "I need the phone number of the teachers who are going to accompany you. And no matter where you are and how busy you get, call your appi or ammi or me every day. OK? Have fun but be careful." Myra nodded. "Keep this. You might need them."

Myra looked at the money and shook her head. "I just needed the signature jeeju. Appi gave me the money."

"You can take from your appi but not from me?" He extended his empty hand. "Then give me back my signature."

"That's not fair." He waited, smiling. She took the money. "If appi shouts at me, it's on you jeej."

"Just out of curiosity, does she do anything else other than shouting at everyone?"

"I heard that." Arzoo scowled from her place at the dining table where she was chatting with her ammi.

Everyone laughed. A few minutes later Zara came in from her assignment. Another round of squealing and hugging ensued. Sahir waited until the rest were engaged otherwise before gesturing Zara aside. "You modelled those designs the other day for Mr Shekhawat. He is pretty impressed and has recommended you for a few other clients." Zara looked ready to jump but one look from him, she stopped and waited for him to finish. He gave her a card. "I don't trust him. This is the name of an agent that I know very well. Call him and hire him. He will do a thorough background check before you take up an assignment. Sign anything only after he gives his OK."

Zara took the card. "But if you don't trust him jeejaji.."

"I don't trust anyone Zara and Shekhawat is no exception. In the field we're in, trust can turn out to be very expensive."

"And this agent? You trust him?"

"He can't afford to make mistakes in his line of business so it's a case of give and take. I have known him for quite some time though. And this is the check for your assignment that you did at Saiyyara. Good luck." He handed her the check and she took it without hesitation.

Nausheen took Arzoo's hand in hers. "Now, leave about me. Tell me about yourself. Are you happy? Sahir is taking good care of you?" Arzoo nodded and Nausheen sighed in relief at her daughter's shy, radiant face. "I feel so relieved now Arzoo that I can't tell you in words. I know Sahir is a nice person and would make a wonderful partner for you. But after that incident..the way you got territfied whenever anyone got close to you..I worried beta." She shook herself out of her own dark thoughts and smiled. "What a topic I have started on! Sometimes your ammi talks nonsense."

Arzoo tried to smile although it was difficult. The incident that she had forcefully put behind her had come rushing back to her and it took everything in her to act normal and unaffected. "It's OK ammi. Don't worry about it. I'm fine."

Nausheen nodded and turned to where Sahir and Zara were speaking in low tones. "Sahir beta, why don't you and Arzoo stay for dinner?"

Zara and Myra caught each of his arm. "Yes jeejaji, Stay for dinner."

"Appi said you like biryani and my ammi makes yummy biryani jeej. Stay na please."

After throwing an inscrutable glance at his wife, Sahir nodded and winced at the loud whoops from the girls.

****

"Where is everyone Arif?" Arzoo asked. It was late in the night by the time both of them had returned home after the dinner and Sahir had gone up to his..their room without a backward glance.

"Badi begum went out begum. She said she would be late. Kurti apa and Anam begum said they were going out for a walk. I was just about to leave. You need anything?"

"Just water. I'll take it. You can go Arif."

The servant gave a small bow and left. Arzoo went into the kitchen and started to fill the water jug. Sahir changed and came into the kitchen and put his hand on her shoulder. Blind terror shot through her. She screamed and threw herself sideways, to press her back against the wall. The water hug held in her hand like a knife. Her face was utterly white as she stared at him. His face was hard. In silence they stared at each other. Carefully he took the jug from her and placed it back on the counter and drew her to him, his hand in her hair, holding her head to his chest. "You thought it was him, didn't you?"

She clung to him, trying to drive away the terror. It had come out of nowhere, taking her by surprise and shattering the control she'd managed to gain over the memory and emotions from that night. Was it her mother's talk that had brought them again to the forefront? She did not know. She felt cold; she wanted to sink into his warmth, to let the reality of his touch overcome the hideous memory of another touch. He tightened his arms, mentally going through every word of his conversation with the psychiatrist that he had had that day. She regained control and eased herself away from him but her eyes still remained frightened. He had to do something to banish that fear of hers once and for all from her mind. He took a deep breath, as if bracing himself for what was to come. For what he was about to do.

"Are you willing to try something that might get you over being frightened?"

She looked cautious. "Like what?"

"We could reenact parts of your attack."

She swallowed. "Which parts?"

"You could run. I could chase you."

"He didn't just ch-chase me. He grabbed me.."

"So will I, when I catch you."

She thought about it. "I'll know it's you."

"We could try."

She stared at him for a long time, then stiffened. "He threw me to the ground," she whispered, "He was on top of me, rubbing himself against me."

"I know. I. Know. You made a video call, remember? I saw."

She shuddered. "I don't w-want you to. But-But I don't want to be like this any longer. I don't want to be afraid anymore." She was determined.

"What if you get really scared?"

"Don't.." she swallowed. "Don't stop. T-take me l-like that."

He looked at her as if measuring her resolve then stepped back. "OK. Run."

"What?"

"Run. I can't chase you if you don't run."

Arzoo slid to the side, away from the wall then whirled and ran. She heard him coming after her and laughed. It was like playing catch, catch with her sisters. She knew she didn't have a prayer of outrunning him so she dodged around the dining table. Both ran around the table, neither gaining advantage on the other. She put her tongue out and made faces at him. A slow, unholy smile touched his mouth as he looked at her. He wanted to take her in his arms and carry her away but he had to play this through. They had been staring at each other, and suddenly it struck her how savage he looked. Intent. Wild. Fear began to creep in her. She knew..knew Sahir would rather cut off his arm than hurt her that way but Allah knows something about it did remind her of the attack. The playfulness drained out of her. "Sahir? Let's stop now."

His chest rose and fell with his breathing, and a bleak look entered his eyes, but his voice was guttural. "No. I'm going to catch you."

She ran blindly, leaving the dubious safety of the dining table. She forgot that it was Sahir behind her, that she wanted him to do this. She screamed, a high, terrified sound, just as she reached their room and Sahir caught her and bore her down, on her back, to the ground, his heavy weight coming down on top of her. He supported himself on his arms to keep from crushing her, and nuzzled her ear. "Ha, caught you." He forced himself to say the words lightly, but his chest was tight with paon at what she was going through. He could feel the terror that held her in its grip, and he began to loosen its bonds, speaking softly to her. Tears stung his eyes at the sounds she made, those of a trapped, terrified animal. Ya Khuda, he didn't know if he could do it. The lust had died in him at her first scream. All he could do was hold her and try to break through the black mist of fear that enveloped her.

"Arzoo, it's me Arzoo. It's Sahir. Your Sahir. I won't hurt you and I won't let anyone else hurt you. Arzoo.." He repeated it over and over, until exhaustion claimed her, and her struggled became weak and aimless. Only then could his voice penetrate her fear.

"Sa-Sahir.."

He nodded, locking his eyes with hers. "Yes. Sahir."

Bruised, swollen eyelids closed as the arms that fought to push him away wrapped themselves around his neck. But her eyes flared open as she felt him pulling her dress away. "Sahir! No!" She was the one who wanted him to take her that way but..

"Shhh," he said in a low, gentle voice. "You know who this is. You know who I am. Sahir. Your Sahir. Your shauhar. Relax. Think of how many times we've done this and how much you've enjoyed. Trust me."

Now that the haze of fear was fading, her trust in him that never left her came once again to the forefront. She relaxed, muscles going limp, and sighed, surrendering into his arms. He didn't rush. He was slow, never taking his eyes away from hers, his fingertips rasping over her most sensitive flesh, creating and building such pleasure that she could barely speak. She let the fever envelope her, knowing that when she flew apart, he would be there to catch her, just as she would be there to hold him. They lay together on the floor for a long time, half dozing, too exhausted to move afterwards. Finally they dragged themselves onto the bed. Your Sahir, he had said. My Sahir. My shauhar. Smiling, heart almost dancing with joy, she surrendered to sleep in the safe haven of his arms.