Khush Aamdeed mere saathi SaAz baazis. Agli dhun aapke saamne pesh hain..
Chapter Fourteen
At the sound of his phone buzzing, Sahir jerked awake, eliciting a protesting moan from Arzoo. Silencing the phone with one hand, he rubbed the other over her arm in a soothing gesture until she settled down once again in her favorite position. Turned to the side, her back to his chest. She murmured his name in her sleep before grabbing his arm and tucking it over her chest. His palm instinctively tightened around her breast before he forced himself to slowly release and roll away from her and out of the bed.
"Hello?"
"Mr Sahir, this is Dr Khurana. I need you to come to the hospital right away."
"I'm on my way." He didn't waste time asking questions that were better answered face to face. Throwing the phone on the bed, he grabbed the first things that he caught hold of in the wardrobe. A light grey shirt and black trousers. Five minutes later, he was ready to go but stopped. Should he wake her up and tell her? Shaking his head he quickly scribbled a note and propped it on the side table right beside her bed and left without a backward glance.
****
"There is no doubt about it Mr Sahir. Your wife has come out of the coma," Dr Khurana said, adjusting his glasses as he read the report once again. "The ECG and brain activity are showing clear signs. She has moved her fingers and blinked."
Sahir's fingers tightened into a fist until the knuckles turned white. There was no eagerness in his eyes. Just stubborn determination as he stared at the still, silent figure on the bed. "So what does that mean? Is she conscious and aware? She doesn't look any different."
Dr Khurana's smiled ruefully as he led Sahir into his cabin and waited for him to take a seat. "I wish it were that simple Mr Sahir. Mrs Zeenat has been in a constant state of sleep for the past seven years. Now just because she is awake, she is not going to sit up and start talking. Coma for this long a duration has long lasting effects. Most likely she won't remember or recognize you even if she does see you."
"No!" He smashed his fist on the table. Not hard enough to break but strong enough to rattle the contents. "She can't forget me. She has to remember. She. Has. To."
"Please, calm down. I am just giving you the preliminary report." Sahir nodded but the muscle ticking in his jaw attested to his roiling emotions. "She is right now in what we call as vegetative state. Awake but not cognizant of her surroundings. With further medication and.." he scribbled some notes into the file. "I will need another MRI.." he mumbled to himself before continuing, "Then hopefully she will progress to the state of minimum consciousness. She will track people with her eyes, squeezing of her hand and things like that." Sighing he removed his spectacles. "Progress is going to be slow Mr Sahir. Recognition, response and then memory would slowly start filtering in. It will take time before she even remembers who she is..and who you are. This is nothing short of a miracle. You have waited for seven years.."
"Time..give me a time." Sahir looked ready to grab the good doctor and pull out the answer from his mouth.
"It will depend on her brain activity.." the doctor's sentence came to a stumbling halt as he caught that look. "I would say 3 to 6 weeks..at least."
****
"Assalam walaikum aunty," Arzoo waited until Alvira sat at the dining table before extending the tea cup to her.
"Walaikum salam Arzoo beta, Sahir left for work?"
"No aunty. He got a call from the hospital sometime in the night so he went there. Hasn't returned yet." Dr Khurana called. I am off to the hospital. She had seen the note the moment she had opened her eyes.
Alvira observed this daughter in law of hers closely. For any sign of distress or confusion. But all she could see was the same smiling face that she saw every day. Either she had become like Sahir, an expert in hiding her thoughts or.. Alvira smiled in budding hope and relief. The relief lasted until she saw Sahir walking in. Arzoo too spotted him at the same time and went into the kitchen to get his coffee. He came into the dining room and took his usual place at the table, his expression lost and distracted.
"Sahir, what happened beta? Arzoo said you had gone to the hospital?"
He didn't seem to even hear Alvira's question until he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder and his coffee mug appeared in front of his eyes. The moon dangling from the hand which was holding it. He felt the tight band around his chest loosening slowly. Taking the cup from her he cleared his throat and said, "Zeenat is out of the coma."
"WHAT? What did you say Sahir beta? Zeenat..Zeenat is out of her long sleep?" Kurti apa came running, her face alight with boundless joy. "Allah is indeed great! What did she say? Did she talk to you? When will she come home?"
Sahir barely glanced up. "It's not that simple. It will take more than a month before she will be able to get out of the bed and after that she will need physiotherapy and constant care for the next few months."
"Oh, I'm not worried about all that. I will take care of my bachchi personally. And you are there for everything Sahir. You are all my Zeenat needs now." Her smile turned into a smirk as her glance fell on Arzoo standing behind Sahir. "Zeenat will get everything she needs from Sahir. He will do anything for her. Anything."
Arif came out of the kitchen and bowed slightly. "Choti begum, what do I make for lunch today?"
Kurti apa all but danced into the kitchen. "I will cook the lunch today. I will cook. Kadi chawal. Its celebration time now and I will start that with kadi chawal. And as soon as it is done I will go to the hospital. I need to see my Zeenat. Ya Allah!"
Arzoo frowned in confusion. Alvira got up with a barely controlled grimace. "Zeenat loved kadi chawal and after the accident Kurti apa had started getting emotional whenever that dish was prepared. So we stopped making it."
Arzoo nodded in understanding and left it at that, her attention once again on her shauhar. "Go and have a shower. I'll get some breakfast for you." Sahir nodded and left after draining the last of his coffee. But when she took the breakfast tray and entered the room he was sitting near the pool, still in the same clothes. Looking lost. Pained. Disturbed. Agitated. "Sahir?"
"I waited for seven years," he said without looking at her. "I sold my soul to get here. I don't know what I expected." He pointed to his forehead. "In here, there was always this..this picture..that she would open her eyes and I would show her.." His eyes turned hard.
Arzoo went and sat beside him, extending the bowl of dhalia. "Everything has a time. Have faith in Allah Sahir. You have come this far." He nodded after a moment and started having his breakfast almost absentmindedly. Determined to lighten the moment, she said pouted, "You didn't even ask if I had my breakfast." Sure enough, his face cleared and a small smile appeared. Wordlessly, he turned to her with a spoonful and took it to her mouth. She made a face as she tried to chew and swallow, widening his smile.
"Looks like Sahir Azim Chaudhary's biwi doesn't like dhalia."
"I feel like puking." He snatched the bowl away, out of her reach. "Allah knows I didn't mean in this. I told Arif to make some paratas for me. I'll go and eat them," she said smugly.
"Paratas for you and dhalia for me?" He tried to look offended.
"Dhalia is healthier," and with cheeks slightly pink, she continued, "And you look super sexy with those abs of yours..I don't want you to lose them." And slipped out of his reach before he could catch her. With a devilish look adorning his chiseled features, he placed the bowl back in the tray, got up, waited for her to stop near the other end of the pool and chased after her. She giggled and started running again, turning to make faces at him, renewing his determination to catch her.
"Aaah," he winced as he rounded the table.
Forgetting all about running away, she ran back towards him. "What happened? You got hurt? Table hit your foot? Where?" And next second found flat on her back on the bed with his grinning self on top of her. A scowl darkened her face. "Cheating. You are a cheaterbaaz Gabbar Chaudhary!"
Eyes locked with hers, he leaned down and kissed her forehead. "Shukriya," his deep voice resonated sincerity and something else..something, oh so precious to her.
"Why?"
"For teaching me how to play."
She leaned up and gave a smacking loud kiss to his cheek. "You are most welcome. Now move. You have a meeting in half an hour if I'm not wrong."
"No bad moments this time?"
She frowned. Then comprehension dawned. She'd forgotten. He had chased her. Caught her unawares. Threw her on the bed. And she hadn't been scared. Leaning up once again she kissed his forehead. "Shukriya."
****
Voices. So many voices. Some low, some urgent, some calm. She didn't understand the words, because consciousness still wrapped her mind in layers of blackness. But she did hear the voices. They reached out to her, pulling at her like magnets, lifting her out of the deep senselessness that had held her.
"Mrs Zeenat, Zeenat, can you hear me? Brain activity is spiking. Keep a close eye on the readings. Any change..any change let me know. Night or day."
That first glimmer of awareness faded. So did the voices. Leaving her directionless. She sank bank into the blackness. Into nothingness.
****
"Appi, all OK? How are things going on?"
Arzoo stuck the phone between her cheek and shoulder as she tried to arrange her sketches in order. "Hi Zara, things are fine. Ummm..Zeenat is out of coma a few days back."
A swift intake of breath and then, "And you're saying things are fine? Appi.."
"Zara..I'm..Sahir and I talked. If that accident hadn't happened, they would've been divorced by now."
That gave Zara a pause. "Oh. And..jeejaji is going to stand by that?"
Arzoo sighed and sat back. "His relationship with her ended a long time ago Zara. That's all I can say."
"OK." Zara accepted it, feeling relieved. Their problems had just been solved and she hadn't wanted them to go back to square one once again. And all said and done, she respected her jeejaji. Looked up to him. Didn't want to lose the man who had become a mentor and guide. "I'll catch up with you later then. Have a photo shoot in a few minutes."
Arzoo hesitated before forging ahead. "Zara, I know you and I trust you. You know that. But..I..I just want..Just be careful, OK? The world of glamour is beautiful but dangerous too. I don't want..I don't want to lose my sister to it."
Zara frowned, then smiled. "I think I know what you're saying appi. Don't worry. I know where to draw the line and would never cross it. I promise." Arzoo sighed in relief as Zara continued in a lighter tone. "And on top of that, who would dare to cross my Jeejaji, Mr Sahir Azim Chaudhary? People here know who I am. And I know whom to go to if needed. Bye appi."
"Bye Zara."
****
The voices were back. Slowly it penetrated the black layers that shrouded her mind, forming a tiny link with her consciousness. She still didn't understand the words, but she wasn't aware that she didn't understand. The voices simply were, like light where before there had been nothing. Sometimes calm and sometimes garbled. She wanted more. She needed to get closer to those sounds, and she began trying to fight her way out of the dark fog in her mind. But every time she tried, a vicious, whirlwind of confusion and turmoil permeated her and she would withdraw, back into the protecting blackness. Then the voices would lure her out again. Until the turmoil beast attacked once more and she had to retreat.
"She is definitely showing signs of improvement Mr Sahir. She is already responding to pain and other stimulations. Very soon she will start reacting to them."
Sahir glanced at the still silent figure. Minus a couple of tubes. "You were talking about a step down from the ICU?"
"Yes," Dr Khurana went through his charts again. "But not right away. She needs to not just respond but react."
Sahir nodded. "Keep me informed."
"Of course, of course." With another nod, he turned and left the room. Sahir came out of the hospital and was walking towards his car when his phone rang. It was Zaki. "Yes Zaki?"
"Bhai, Zeenat improving?"
"Yes."
"What are you going to do now bhai?"
"Dr Khurana said.."
"I don't want to know what Dr Khurana said. I want to know what you plan to do with your personal life."
"That's none of your business Zaki."
"Bhai..think for once. She won't stay with you if you bring Zeenat back home. You know her. You know her background."
"Arzoo is my wife Zaki. She is not going anywhere." Sheer determination resonated in his voice, almost disguising the fear snaking up his spine.
"Bhai, please. Don't put her through this. If you think Zeenat is your responsibility, fine. Then let..let Arzoo go. It will kill her. Bhai, she loves you."
"I don't love Zeenat." Sahir, at the end of his tether finally snapped at his brother. "Arzoo is the..Arzoo is my wife and my wife she stays. Stop lecturing me and go, see to that new client I sent the information about."
"Loving her doesn't give you the right to hurt her bhai. If she wants to leave, I will help her in any way I can. I said this the other day and I say it again. She is my friend. The one who believed me when none did. It's time I repaid that debt. Khuda hafiz."
In a rare display of violence, Sahir threw the phone to the ground.
****
Her arm twitched the way it had once before, the moment startling Kurti apa into jerking her hand away. She stopped talking and stared at the now motionless arm. Ever since since she got the news that her Zeenat was out of the coma and she spent most the day, every day with Zeenat. "Zeenat, meri bachchi, can you hear me?" she asked shakily, her eyes locked on her niece's face. "Did you move your arm?" Just then the doctor walked into the ICU. "Doctor saab, Zeenat moved her arm. Just now. She did. I saw it."
Dr Khurana leaned closer. "Zeenat, can you hear me?" Her arm twitched, the movement somehow too slow to be an involuntary spasm of cramped muscles. "Zeenat? Did you mean to jerk your arm? Can you do it again?" Kurti apa leaned closer, unable to contain her excitement.
Odd. Some of the words made sense. Others made no sense at all. Her arm? Yes. He wanted her to move her arm. She didn't know if she could. She didn't want to be in this place, where everything was so cold and dark and empty. Light beckoned her. Voices called out to her. She moved her arm.
****
Alvira glanced up as Sahir walked in, his fingers already pulling at his tie. One look at the storm brewing on his face, her smile of welcome faded.
"Arzoo!" he all but shouted his wife's name.
"Arzoo went to meet her ammi Sahir. She said she will be back in a couple of hours or so. You need something beta?"
He face was dark, his eyes wild, as he shook his head and walked off into his room, leaving Alvira concerned and worried. He had been that way for the past few days. No one, not even Arzoo could make him talk. Alvira sighed, wishing he would talk to someone. She had thought he had begun to share a lot of himself with Arzoo but..
Sahir swam, took a shower, tried to go through reports given by Linda. But nothing worked. All he could hear was Zaki's words. She won't stay with you if you bring Zeenat back home. She loves you. It will kill her. Loving you doesn't give you the right to hurt her. She won't stay with you. She won't stay with you. It will kill her. She won't stay with you. His fingers gripped his belt..but halted as another whispery soft voice reached him. Sahir..no. Enough. You've been hurt enough. Allah knows no more. Please, no more.
Arzoo skipped and bounded towards their room. Despite knowing the facts, Zeenat coming out of the coma and tense atmosphere at the house had been getting to her. And the last few days even Sahir had seemed to be on the edge. Tense. She had asked time and again but all she got in reply was silence. But she had felt his desperation whenever he took her into his arms. His lovemaking was as beautiful as ever but she felt a strange sense of anxiety in his touch now. Something was making him scared and she didn't know what it was. Tired and worried, she had gone to her maika. And time with her daadi, ammi and Myra had been just what she needed. But now she was back home. Her feet slowed as she smiled. How quickly this has become her home, she thought. Her home, her room, her Sahir. Her Shauhar.
"Ey bakri, what are you doing here?" Kurti apa's voice halted her.
"Nothing. I just came back from my ammi's house and I'm going to my room."
"Your room?" Kurti apa scoffed. "Yeah, yeah, enjoy your last days in that room. My Zeenat is responding more and more with each passing day. Soon she will come home and once she comes, the room and the man in the room will be hers. Understood?"
Arzoo looked at the woman with something close to pity. "I do realize that Zeenat is your niece and you love her a lot. I do not know if you had been aware of her relationship with Sahir before the accident or not." The faintly shocked expression followed by the flush that crept up Kurti apa's face gave her away. Sighing Arzoo continued, "It is time you accept the fact that whatever was between Sahir and Zeenat no longer exists. She destroyed it with her own hands."
Kurti apa stiffened her spine. "I know my Sahir. If Zeenat asks forgiveness he will give it. He will accept her back into his life. He loved her a lot. You were not there. You didn't see how he had been with her. And she loved him too. She told me she did. She didn't want to marry anyone other than Sahir. She told me."
"Kurti apa, mistakes can be forgiven. Not crimes. And what she did comes under the category of crime. At least in my eyes. I don't know what she had felt but it was certainly not love. She broke his heart. She turned his love into hatred. But I won't let him live his life that way. I will fill it with so much love that there won't be room for hatred in his heart."
"What if Sahir himself tells you to get out of this house? Will you leave at least then?"
Arzoo shook her head. "He will never say that. And even if he does, I will not go. I will not leave him. Not now. Not ever." She walked away, leaving Kurti apa stunned and speechless. And barely entered their room before she was grabbed and shoved against the wall. She blinked, taken aback. "Sahir?"
He kicked the door shut with his booted foot before caging her between his arms. "Was that the truth?"
"Wh-what?"
"What you told Kurti apa just now..was that the truth?"
Eyes locked with his, she replied. "Yes."
He inched closer. "You won't leave me no matter what?"
Her soft palms cupped his cheeks. "I won't leave you no matter what."
"Even if I tell you to go?"
"Even if you tell me to go. I'll get some superglue and stick myself to you."
He swallowed. "And..and if I tell you that I was the one behind that factory incident in Lucknow?"
Shock flared her eyes, followed by a kind of resigned sadness. "Is that why you had the architect draw up those plans for a new factory?"
His head jerked back. "How do you know about those plans?"
"I had gone into your cabin to collect the Pune client file and saw them." She had been stunned when she had read through the notes. Then she had been ecstatic that he had thought of something like that. But a nagging part of her found the unusual act of philanthropy a little hard to relate to. Especially since that would mean deviating from his seven year old promise. Now it all made sense.
"I plan to build a similar factory in the same place," he said in a rough voice. "I'm..I'm sorry."
"You will need me to withdraw my case and that stay order if you want to do that." She paused before continuing. "I'll contact my friend and see that it gets done."
He looked like he wanted to grab her but held himself back. "I will try to hire everyone who lost their livelihood to the best of my ability."
"I know that." She pushed against him only to have him push her back against the wall once again. "What?"
"You didn't answer. Will you stay with me despite all this? Despite knowing the kind of person I am. What I am capable of doing?"
She cupped his cheeks and kissed him. Devoured his lips. Clung to him like a vine. And with her lips still on his, she said, "My love doesn't come with conditions Sahir. I loved you, love you, will always love you. Am I disappointed? Yes. Am I hurt? A little, yes. But nothing..nothing would change the fact that I love you."
A spasm twitched his tight facial muscles. He muttered something but the sound was so rough that she couldn't understand it; and then she was in his arms. His mouth bruising hers. All his uncertainty, all his pain, transformed into the kind of passion that singed her. She could feel the out of control, savage hunger in his lithe powerful body. Thrilled at it in a deeply primitive way. That the man who had turned self-control into a form of art was now wild in his need for her. There was no leisurely foreplay. No petting or stroking. Time for making love would come later. But now..now they mated. Primitive. Raw. Desperate. Like they were desperately trying to weld their bodies together. Make them into one. Forever. He groaned unintelligibly and slid his arms beneath her to lift her up even more, as if he could grind their bodies so tightly together that they would mesh, then convulsed in release. She held him tightly, her legs around his hips, her arms about his shoulders as he heaved into her, groaning and shivering.
Later, they lay together, motionless, the only movement that of their breathing, the only sound that of the gently rippling water from the pool. Arzoo felt dazed by what had just happened, her senses buffeted as if she had just weathered a storm. She was totally incapable of action. Then he braced his hands and lifted his weight off her, staring down at her with an expression so fierce that she blinked. And then he said.
"Arzoo Sahir Azim Chaudhary, I love you." Silent tears filled and rolled out of her eyes to disappear into her hair. With a rough groan, he leaned down to sip them away. "Why the tears?"
She smiled, grinned, and hiccupped a laugh as she tried to explain. "I never..I thought I didn't need to hear those words. I could feel your love so I didn't need them. But.."
"I love you. Every single piece of my shattered, scarred, tainted heart is yours. Has always been yours. And will always be yours."
Arzoo lifted her hand and touched his face, much as he had touched hers; her brown black eyes drifted over his features with aching tenderness, examining each line and plane as he closed his eyes to better absorb her touch and said, "I love you too."
****
"Arzoo beta, what are you thinking? Your tea is getting cold," Alvira asked, gently shaking Arzoo's arm.
Arzoo blinked and came back to the present. "Aunty, can I ask you something?"
"Yes beta?"
"Sahir..did he used to paint?"
Alvira smiled sadly in fond remembrance. "He loved painting. It had been his passion. The one thing that had the ability to make him forget everything and smile. I still remember, even in his college days, he used to collect his painting stuff and go off on his bike for hours on end. And came back home with a different painting every single time. Scenery, people.." she shook her head. "Why the sudden question Arzoo? Did he say something to you about it?"
Arzoo shook her head. "No aunty. But I was searching for that book case you told me about in the storeroom and I found.." she halted. "Aunty, why are they in the storeroom? Such beautiful things should be.."
"I was the one who put them there Arzoo. Sahir had been ready to burn them all but I stopped the servant and hid them there in hope that one day.."
Arzoo got up and walked away. Painter. He had been a painter. Zeenat had ridiculed him for being an artist. He told her that but she had assumed it was about the designs and sketches. He had killed the painter in him in order to turn himself into the ruthless businessman. Tears filled her eyes as she remembered one of the paintings. The sheer pain that one painting of his had conveyed. A desert. Scorching sun. dry, hot sand. And a man in tattered torn clothes on his knees. His palms forming a cup. A woman standing beside him with a pot in her hand. The pot tilted towards the man's cupped hands. Only instead of water, sand dripped from the pot. Ya Allah!
That night, she waited until after his swim and as has become their ritual, he sat on the footstool while she toweled his hair dry. "Next week is Myra's birthday," she said.
Sahir stopped tapping on his phone screen and smiled. "Really?"
"Hmmm..I'm going to give her a scarf that I'm designing. Something stylish but not flashy. She doesn't like flashy. What are you going to gift her?"
"Me?" He turned to face her. "Do we need to give separate gifts?"
"Yes. Because she has become her jeeju's chamchibaaz and expects something special from you."
His eyes conveyed his pleasure at that. And he thought. "Jewelry?" She shook her head. "Dress?" She shook her head again. "Then what? I have no experience in all this stuff. You suggest something. What does she like?"
Arzoo wet her lips and answered, "She likes paintings. She..she would love to have a painting made by you." His smile slipped and disappeared. He got up and began to dress, his movements a little jerky. She went to stand behind him. "I bought all the painting supplies."
"My paintings are nonsense. They are nothing." The face that was turned away from her was hard, eyes dark pools of pain.
Loving arms wrapped around his waist as his wife gave him a back hug. "They are you, Sahir. Your painting is a part of you. And any part of you..every single part of you is precious to me." She led him by the hand to their place.
He took in the canvas, the easel, palette, paints, knives, brushes.. she had thought of everything. "I.." words failed him. His fingers touched the canvas with reverence. A hesitant, yet lively smile full of anticipated joy transformed his face. "I don't even remember the last time I painted and you want me to paint something worthy of a birthday gift to Myra?"
She grinned at his attempt to lighten the atmosphere and went along with it. "Birthday is next week. You still have time. Allah knows you don't know the talent of my painterbaaz shauhar so don't underestimate him." She playfully ruffled his hair and extended a dark blue headband. "Now you get your stuff ready while I go and get my sketch pad. My Gabbar boss..I mean my boss gave me a deadline so I need to work too."
"Suno?"
She stopped and turned. "Ji?"
"I love you."
Kya khayal hain? Pasand aaya? Jawab ka intezaar rahenga. Allah hafiz.
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