FF - A Rude Awakening COMPLETE STORY PG 145 - Page 76

Chapter Twelve

Arzoo placed a plate full of sandwiches between them. "I told Arif to make these since it's easy to eat and work. And I got some juice for you." A tall glass of orange juice appeared beside him. He looked at the plate, at the juice glass and at his wife, who was busy gathering papers, pencils and colors from her desk and Linda's, bringing them into his cabin and going back again to get more from Joe's table. As she made a move to pull up a chair, he caught her hand in his. His grip tight but not hurting. The anger in his eyes almost hiding the pain. Almost. Not quite.

"I'm not Sarfaraz."

She blinked at that out of the blue statement before memory clicked. "I know." She didn't shift her eyes away from his. "But the wounds of past don't completely go away, do they Sahir?" His lashes fluttered. "And the way you said it, all I could think was.."

"I'm sorry."

She nodded. "I'm sorry too. And no, you are not Sarfaraz. You are Sahir Azim Chaudhary. My shauhar." Just like that she scowled, "Shauhar who refuses to take care of himself." She pushed the plate of sandwiches towards him. "Eat. The faster we eat, the sooner we can start our work."

He picked up the sandwich but stopped. "You?"

"I'll go and get some more. You haven't eaten anything since I don't know when.. have those. I'll go get some more and tell Arif to send coffee and tea after a couple of hours."

How did she know that he hadn't eaten? The mere memory of her pale face as she thought he had come to her after spending the night with.. He shook his head, as if trying to dislodge the image. Food had been the last thing on his mind. But now? He looked at her retreating back. At her unconditional support. Her unquestioning trust.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FJ55SHCzt88

Pal, do pal, ki hi kyun hai zindagi
Iss, pyar, ko hai sadiyaan kaafi nahi
Toh khuda se maang lun Mohalat main ik nayi
Rehna hai bas yahaan Ab door tujhse jaana nahi
Jo tu mera humdard hai Jo tu mera humdard hai
Suhaana har dard hai Jo tu mera humdard hai

"You use red and maroon a lot. Try something different." Sahir said, without lifting up his eyes from his sketching. His coat and tie had been discarded along with his shoes and the first two buttons of his shirt unbuttoned. Their empty dinner plates and juice glasses were stowed away to a corner. The empty coffee and tea mugs were at their feet. They had lasted on their respective chairs for a couple of hours before shifting their base and settling down on the carpeted floor of the cabin. Rejected sketches lay scattered on one side and the fresh ones spread out on the other, attesting to their long night. It was almost three in the morning but neither felt sleepy or tired. Adrenalin was driving them along with her challenge of who would get out the maximum sketches.

Her fingers, about to grab the red color paused as she glared at his down-bent head. "You see to your own colors. Why are you peeking into mine?" Nevertheless, she picked up a mustard color, drawing a small smile on his lips. She poked her tongue out and made a face at him, turning his smile into a grin.

"I saw that."

She got busy with coloring her design but muttered, "Allah knows, Gabbar has eyes on top of his head too."

"I heard that."

"Sorry sir," she couldn't resist, her own smile breaking free.

****

Zaki clicked one image after another with his free hand, the other one holding his phone. "Amazing bhai. Superb!"

Sahir looked tired but the lines of tension were gone. "You will take care of the rest? Do you need anything else from me?"

"Yeah, I'll handle it from here, no worries," Zaki ended the sentence with a yawn. "Sorry bhai, I was out with some friends last night and.."

"Good to know that my once philandering now turned responsible chota bhai has not changed beyond recognition," Sahir's face relaxed some more as he heard Zaki's hearty laughter. "You take care and let me know how things go."

"Ji. Khuda hafiz."

Sahir ended the call and left the office. It had been almost five in the morning by the time they had got all the designs ready, their challenge ending on a tie. Ten approved designs from each. And he had shooed Arzoo out as she looked ready to fall face first in exhaustion. It was nine in the morning now. Saturday. Normally he would look into any pending paperwork. He sighed. Maybe after a shower, he thought and made his way home. To his room. To Arzoo. And found her. Not sleeping but just out of shower, hair pinned up hastily with a large clip, a white 3/4 sleeve form fitting kameez and a multicolored Patiala pant, face scrubbed clean and shining like the early morning dew. And the smile of welcome on her lips.. Masha Allah! Would he ever get tired of seeing that? He knew not.

Teri muskurahatein hain taaqat meri Mujhko inhi se ummeed mili
Chaahe kare koi sitam ye jahaan Inme hi hai sadaa hifaazat meri
Zindagani badi khoobsurat hui Jannat ab aur kya hogi kahin
Jo tu mera Humdard hai Jo tu mera Humdard hai
Suhaana har dard hai Jo tu mera Humdard hai

"Sent the designs? All done?" she asked. He nodded. She gave him a thorough once over and said, "Strip."

He blinked. And blinked again. "What?"

Her cheeks turned pink but she repeated. "I said, strip. Take off your jacket and shirt." On that note, she sat on the bed and pulled the footstool closer. "And sit here." Taken aback yet intrigued, he complied. She pushed him onto the stool, with his back to her and in the next minute he felt her soft fingers in his hair. "I wanted to do this yesterday but.." she didn't complete the sentence. "Whenever I was tense or worried, my ammi used to give me this oil massage. Allah knows, it works wonders I tell you. Just close your eyes and try to relax. And after that you can have a nice shower and get some sleep. Here you go," she said, handing him his coffee.

He closed his eyes and struggled to hold his coffee mug steady as her fingers gently soothed his frazzled nerves. He swallowed repeatedly, not wanting her to see his need filling up his eyes. Thankful for the fact that he was facing away from her. "Shhh," he heard her say. "Don't think. Just relax." And started humming a soft off-beat, sagar kinare dil yeh pukare tu jo nahi toh mera koi nahi hain..

As he felt her fingers kneed and rub his neck and shoulders, he gave up the fight with himself and pulled her arms. She fell forward, her chin resting on his shoulder. His breath shuddered out as he strived for a normal tone. "Didn't you sleep?"

"I was out like a light from 5 to 8.30. Coffee done? What do you want for breakfast?" She paused. "Can I ask something?" He nodded. "Why do you eat burnt toast?"

Ever tasted burnt toast Sahir? Wait. Here. Taste it and see. It's bitter, isn't it? Truth is bitter Sahir, like this burnt toast. And whenever you think of this taste, think of all those winners out there. You will see the difference between you and them. You can never be one of them.

"To remind myself of life's bitter lessons." The feral look in his eyes came back with a vengeance. Her tender palm closed his eyes from behind.

"Then today you're going to have aloo pyaas mirchi mixed poha and gulab jamun for your breakfast. Allah knows life is a mixture of everything. Sweet, spicy, tangy, salty.." she leaned in again, swaying him along with her playfully. "Enough bitterness Sahir. Taste something else for me? Please?"

"No," he growled. "I don't..I can't forget those lessons."

"I'm not asking you to. I'm just saying that you should learn some new lessons."

They remained like that until, "I'm off to have my shower now," he got up. He slung the towel over his shoulder and said, "Get that poha ready. I'm hungry."

Arzoo jumped up and did a small jig before shouting back, "Any chance of getting a bonus for all that extra work I put in last night?"

He halted at the bathroom door, his smile hidden away from her, "Saiyyara pays bonus at the end of the quarter. Doesn't run on daily wages."

"I wasn't talking in terms of money Mr Gab..Sahir Azim Chaudhary, more like a ride on your RTR." Her tone turned sad and sulky. "I've never even been to the beach once."

"Help me with my paperwork this afternoon and we'll see."

"Slave driver!" she couldn't resist making another face, although her heart rejoiced at his light hearted banter.

"What?"

"Yes sir, of course sir, three bags full sir," she shouted back before running off towards the kitchen.

****

"Begum, shall I take the car out?" The driver asked Arzoo respectfully.

Arzoo grinned. "No. We're going out but not in the car. We'll take the bike."

The driver did his best to hide his astonishment. "You will drive the bike begum?"

"Arre not me. Sahir will." The driver bowed and left. She didn't care if she sounded smug. Allah knows, she was going on a date with her shauhar on the bike! She wanted to dance.

"Shall we go?" Sahir came into the hall, his leather jacket slung over his shoulder, wearing a red t-shirt to go with the black jeans. "Or is there anyone else pending to whom you have to announce it to? The gardener or milkman maybe?"

His sarcasm wasn't lost on her. She glowered at him. "I'm not a silentbaaz like you but doesn't mean I'm a gossipbaaz." She blinked and the excitement was back on her face. "Which beach are we going to? Juhu?" She asked, loping her arm through his proprietarily.

"Ever been there?" She shook her head. "There will be more people than the sand over the weekends." She giggled at the imagery he drew. "Aksa beach is better."

"Can we get pani puri there?" She smacked her lips as she followed him out of the house. "And pav bhaji? I heard it's very tasty. And..and vada pav? Can I have.."

Kurti apa glared at their retreating figures with venom spitting from her eyes. She had a new taveez. She would go to the hospital today and tie it to her Zeenat's wrist. Zeenat would recover. She would. She would. She has to.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_bQBcgLtV6Q

"I didn't even know you could ride a bike," she said loudly to be heard over the whipping wind and his helmet. "Do you have license?"

His eyes behind the helmet laughed. "No I don't. If a cop stops us I'll tell him my biwi threatened me with a knife to ride the bike."

She merely tightened her arms around him. "Allah knows, Sahir Azim Chaudhary, the Shark got scared by a mere knife?"

He slanted her a look and accelerated the bike, cutting through the weekend traffic, making her yelp. "Ya Khuda! OK, OK, I'm sorry." Gabbar, she silently mouthed.

"I saw that." He gestured to the rearview mirror making her groan and giggle.

About twenty minutes later, he parked and they walked down the narrow pathway that led to the beach. Her frown at the pathway disappeared as soon as they stepped into the sand. They were right in time to watch the glorious sunset and Aksa, being the least crowded of the beaches, they could walk without bumping into people. After a couple of minutes, she slid her palm over his. A momentary hesitation later, he interlinked their fingers and continued to walk in silence.

"It's beautiful," she gazed at the setting sun. He nodded. She pointed to the lavender, pink, blue sky and said, "The ghagra I drew the other day..I think it should have that color. What do you think?"

He smiled a little, pushing back the hair that kept falling over her face with his fingers. "My designbaaz biwi sees designs and colors everywhere."

"What do you feel like doing when you see such lovely colors of nature?"

He looked away and shrugged before deliberately changing the topic. "So, what else do you like?"

Her eyes probed his but she let it go. "Hmmm..I like mangoes and rain." She grinned. "Oh I love both of them so.." her grin died. "What happened?"

He started walking. He hated this. Hated her probing, yet concerned eyes. Hated her gentle understanding. Hated that she asked so many questions. Why does she want to know? Why can't she just let him be? "Sahir?" He halted and waited for her to catch up. "What happened? You don't want to tell me?"

Words spilled out of his mouth without his permission. "One day when I was coming home from school I found a guy selling mangoes. I bought them with my pocket money, carefully wrapped the pieces in a paper and got them home for my abbu. Unfortunately I didn't know two things at that time. My abbu didn't like mangoes and that day he had incurred a huge loss in his business." Sahir tried to laugh but it seemed artificial even to his ears. "The beating I got that day," he shook his head and tried to laugh again. "Khuda kasam, I hate the sight of those blasted mangoes to this day."

Helpless fury and pain pressed in on her. Arzoo blinked back her tears. She had wanted him to talk but she just realized how much strength she would be needing just to listen. She swallowed and inhaled deeply before saying, "I'm sorry." Helpless, he stood as she hugged him, sharing her warmth, chasing away his demons. The rapid thumping of his heart steadied. "I wish I could take away every single thing that has ever hurt you Sahir."

He wanted to throw her over his shoulder and carry her far, far away. Keep her just to himself. Hide himself in her never to resurface. Tempted to do just that, he reluctantly took a step back. Suddenly conscious of her surroundings, she did the same. He looked around. In a reasonably normal tone he pointed towards a stall. "Your pani puri and pav bhaji are there. Want to eat?"

Arzoo hastily wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, grinned and nodded. What followed wiped out every other thought from his mind as he watched his biwi gulp one golgappa after the other. She made him a cursory offer which he hastily refused and she didn't ask him again, too busy stuffing herself. She got her generosity back when she extended her plate of pav bhaji towards him. At his hesitation, she dipped the pav in the curry and brought it to his mouth, forcefully feeding him. And after the first couple of mouthfuls, he let go of his reservations and dug into it with gusto, completely missing the way she sat back, drinking in his relaxed demeanor. After snacking enough to skip dinner, they started out once again. Sahir took her through the Nariman point and zipped over the Bandra-Worli sea-link. The wondrous expression in her eyes as she watched the brightly lit up city was something that would stay with him forever. After another stop for another almost midnight snack, they made their way home.

"Ya Allah! That was great! Bahut, bahut shukriya Sahir sahab," Arzoo dropped on the bed, groaning at her protesting muscles. Allah knows, it's been a while since she sat on a bike for such a long duration. "And I need to thank Zaki for this gift. I think I'll call.."

She couldn't finish the rest of the sentence as she was dragged out of the bed almost roughly into Sahir's arms. "You will NOT talk to Zaki," his tone held the barely controlled violence simmering in his eyes.

"Wh-what?" He was fine until then. What happened? What did she say?

"I said you will NOT talk to Zaki." His grip on her arms tightened as he pulled her closer. Closer still. Until she was plastered to him from chest to thigh and his furious breath wafted over her face. "You are my wife now. MINE. Got that?"

She blinked. "B-but Zaki is your brother. How would it look if I avoid him completely?"

"I don't care. Zaki is a guy who loves my wife."

"You know he is already getting over it. And your wife doesn't love Zaki, does she? You know it, don't you? You've always known it. She has only ever loved one man in her whole life." She paused before taking the plunge. "And she is still in love with the same man."

His breathing deepened. Sped up. Sweat beaded over his forehead. Trembling fingers ran over her arms and neck before digging into her hair, making sure she doesn't look away from him. "Say it." His words demanded. His eyes begged.

"I love you. I married you for one reason and one reason only. Because I love you."

He kissed her. Drinking in her words. Letting them sink into his very being. And the more he drank, the more he wanted. Need and desire clawed at him. Brutal and intense, driving out every thought from his mind. They stumbled back and fell on the bed. "Arzoo.." his voice was ragged, his hands unsteady as he undressed them. They rolled and rolled again until she was straddling him. His eyes closed. His jaw tensed as he felt her surrounding him. His throat was damp with sweat, his struggle visible in every gorgeous angle of his face.

But she didn't want him to struggle. She wanted him to let go of that control and she wanted to be the one who made him do it. "I love you Sahir," she reiterated with every kiss and touch. His eyes remained closed as he surrendered his control to her in every way he knew how, until she collapsed on top of him, spent and stunned.

****

"Sir, congratulations sir," Joe tried to stand still while talking to his boss but his boss always had the ability to make him extremely nervous, irrespective of whether he was breathing fire or not. "Arzoo..I mean Arzoo ma'am told me that our Singapore client approved the new designs you had sent and also recommended us to another colleague of his."

Sahir nodded, his keen eyes scanning the sketches that Joe had given him. "Shukriya. And you know what that good news means Joe?"

"Increased salary sir?" Joe's tone was tentative and hopeful.

"Increased work," he calmly returned the sketches back to Joe. "These are fine but see to the border designs seven and ten once again. There is a thin line between being grand and being gaudy." Joe turned to go when Sahir added, "And yes, increased salaries too."

"Oh, thank you sir. Thank you so much. I'm going to tell the team..I'm going to.."

"Get to work." Joe gave a hasty nod and scampered out of the cabin.

Sahir let his facial muscles relax and a small smile break free once he was alone. Four days have gone by since that night when Arzoo had declared her love. Each day filled with a life time of memories. He had always known she was an affectionate and demonstrative person. But until she had completely lowered her barriers, he hadn't realized how much restraint she had been showing until then. Now she smiled more, made him smile more, her impulsive hugs, the spontaneous smooches on his cheek whenever the mood struck her, her nagging..

Aaghaaz-e-mohabbat ka anjaam bas itna hain..

Tab dil mein arzoo thi, ab dil hi arzoo hain..

His fingers touched his chest, over his heart. That's where she slept for most of the night. But she had grinned last night and admitted that she loved the way they spooned together. Her back to his chest with his arms around her and their legs tangled. He looked up to find her once again missing from her seat. Frowning, he got up and went looking for her and found her in one of the conference rooms, in front of a laptop, completely absorbed in whatever it was that she was reading. "Suno?"

Arzoo's head snapped up at the same time she closed the laptop. As if she didn't want him to know what she was reading. His frown deepened. "What happened? Everything OK?"

She nodded, tried to smile and got up. "Ji. Everything is fine. I was just..I had a little time so I was going through some..some..new designs online." His biwi was great in a lot of things. But lying was not her forte. "Lindaji wanted me to help her out with some inventory. I'll see you at home, OK?"

He nodded and waited for her to leave before opening the laptop and clicking on the history of the browser. He had no compunction about intruding on her privacy. Something was bothering her and he needed to know what. His frown deepened further as he went through the links that she had opened in the last thirty minutes. Recovery process of a coma patient. Stages of recovery of a coma patient. Length of recovery. Long term impacts. Brain injury, severity levels and recovery process. He had told her Zeenat was in coma so why was she researching on recovery process?

His phone beeped, reminding him of the next meeting. He closed the laptop and walked out of the conference room.

****

"Sahir?" A feather-light kiss on his brow woke him up. "Good morning." Her eyes were the first thing he saw. He gathered her into his arms, rubbing his cheek on her hair. "It's morning. You need to wake up." She closed her eyes to gather her strength and said, "It's Thursday. You need to go to the hospital."

Arms fell away from her slowly. Already expecting that, she straightened. "You get ready. I'll bring the coffee."

And left him, stunned and speechless. Like an automon he got ready and made his way to the kitchen, ignoring the reluctance of his heart. Even his feet were dragging. Slowing him down. He ignored that too. He had to go, he firmly reminded himself. But he came to a standstill as he heard Arzoo's voice from the kitchen. She was speaking in low tones with someone in her phone. He took a step closer.

Arzoo shifted her phone from one hand to another. "Zara, don't worry. I'm fine."

Zara, after another look at the hall to make sure she was alone, spoke in equally low tone. "But appi, jeejaji's first wife didn't leave him. She is in a coma and on top of that she is Kurti apa's niece. Appi, what are you going to do?"

Arzoo's shoulders slumped. "I don't know Zara. Zara..Zara I'm..I'm scared."

"Appi, appi. Relax. She has been in coma for the last seven years. What are the chances that she would ever come out of it?"

"Zara!"

"I'm sorry appi. I'm not being cruel. Just stating facts."

"None of this even occurred to me until yesterday. Lindaji's son fell and fractured his wrist. She brought him to the office because there was no one to take care of him at home." One minute she had been sympathizing with Linda and the next it hit her. "I read.." Arzoo swallowed. "I read on the internet. If..when a coma patient starts recovering, she would need a lot of care. Weeks..months.."

"Jeejaji won't bring her home appi. He won't do that to you."

"Zara.." Arzoo lifted the cup and put it back on the counter. Her fingers were trembling too much to hold it. "What if he says he wants to go back?" Try as she might, she couldn't disguise the fear. "He had be-been married to her three years before that accident."

"Appi, then go and ask him na. Why are you standing here crying?"

Arzoo shook her head. "No. Not today. Today he is going to the hospital."

"Don't be so bloody self-sacrificing appi."

"Allah knows I'm not being self-sacrificing Zara. I just need time to prepare myself in case..in case he says.."

"Appi, he loves you. Even my materialistic, cynical eyes can see that. OK ammi is coming, I need to go. Bye. Call me later."

Arzoo placed the phone on the counter, took a few moments to compose herself and quickly started preparing Sahir's coffee. "Choti begum, Sahir sahab has left." Arif's tentative tone halted her.

"Left?"

"Ji. I saw him going out of the door just as I was walking in."

****

Recovery process of a coma patient. Stages of recovery of a coma patient. Length of recovery. Long term impacts. Brain injury, severity levels and recovery process.

I read on the internet. If..when a coma patient starts recovering, she would need a lot of care. Weeks..months.. Zara I'm..I'm scared. What if he says he wants to go back? He had be-been married to her three years before that accident. I just need time to prepare myself in case..in case he says..

Sahir couldn't sit still in the car. His suit was suffocating him. His tie was choking him. He was like a restless tiger. The fear in her voice. Fear of abandonment. That bas***d of a father left her and her family and now she was scared of being left behind once again. What was she doing now? Crying, he was abruptly sure. Alone. Scared. Worried. Guilt tore him apart with bare hands.

"Driver, turn back home."

"Yes sir."

Padne keliye dilse shukriya...Ummeed hain aapko pasand aaya ho. Jawab ka intezar rahega..