FF - A Rude Awakening COMPLETE STORY PG 145 - Page 93

Originally posted by: Suvika.

Gosh 😲 sent a couple of them dear...my email id too..

Originally posted by: Suvika.

some people never learn yaara... jane do 😆

Originally posted by: raaz19

Just reread the whole ff...let's just say it was amazing the way the whole last chapter connected all the loops left open...

And hopefully the remaining loops and loose ends will be closed too in the upcoming final chapter and the epilogue. 😊

Can I just say I really enjoyed the way arzoo character has developed especially when it came to the face off between her and ka.. 😊 really liked the way that she said she would stay with her humsafar come what may... The bond between saaz has only got stronger through this scene.. Thank you for sharing this vision with us...

You are very welcome. I didn't know any other way for Sahir to get his reassurance. He sure is not going to go and ask her. Glad this scene worked out. And as for the character development of Arzoo.. I think ppl keep changing. Evolving. Circumstances and situations bring that change in a person's thinking and attitude. And Sahir's influence in her life has always been strong. Both of them changed and grew in this relationship. They became each other's strengths and helped the other to fight the weakness.

Also in this chapter I loved the way sahirs fear was addressed off being left alone again.. His fear of losing arzoo was far more stressful for him than wanting to complete the promise he has made to zeenat.. I love they way zaki made him reflect and finally express what he truely feels for arzoo...

Zaki does come in handy at times like this... doesn't he?? 😉😆

Finally he said I love you to her... This part waa magical and made all us girls go onto dream mode... The way he expressed it with full authority and right to arzoo was stunning... The paragraph of his damaged heart being only hers was a great way of showing there bond deepening... Finally the final part of painter sahir was sweet.. lady you have though all his passions through really well.. I loved the way you protriated his relationship with zeenat in the painting... truly you could feel how much he has lost through his struggle for her exceptance...

Thank you...🤗

The whole scene of his need for water and receiving sand is symbolic because being an outsider from the start he has always strive to make the people around him happy... It shows that his journey was never going to end or stop his turst...

Yes. He had hoped for something but got nothing.

The love he received from arzoo has been so unexpected in his life till now that he is unsure if what the expect further... Each day is a joy for him as per your last paragraph were you try to reignite his passion to paint.. can I ask will he paint something for her?

Of course he will. But not right now. Now... its Myra's turn to get her birthday gift. 😃

Also love the deep family connection you have created between him and arzoo family.. Thank you for giving him that as part of the healing process...

Can I ask what is in store for saaz next...will they move out from nayamat house? And what about zeenat?

Why would they?? It's his house. So why would he move out?? Chapter 15 is the last chapter so hopefully you will get all your answers in this. 😃

before I forget you have mentioned that you have written other ff before could you please PM me the link the girls would like to read...

Sure. Will do.

Thanks for the lovely update... looking forward to reading the end...

Sorry for long post..

Don't apologize please. Its great when readers take time to let me know the things they like / don't like / expect from the chapter. 😃

;) razia

Originally posted by: Lakshmivp

no words buddy... it's just beautiful...and passionate...!!! love it!!!

Assalm Walaikum. SaAz baazis.. yeh rahi iss dhun ka aakhri panna.

Final Chapter

Sahir pushed his chair and got up. And like soldiers snapping to attention, the members in the conference room stood up. "I repeat, don't filter anyone who doesn't clear our minimum score in the first round. Same goes to the next two rounds. Doesn't matter if at the end of the day we give the offer letter to only two people. Saiyyara hires only the best. No compromise."

"Yes sir," they chorused before gathering their belonging and leaving the room.

"Excuse me Sahir, if you are done strutting about your company, may I have a word with you?" He heard Anam's faintly condensing tone from the door.

Sahir waited until Anam closed the door and walked into the room before saying, "Last chance Anam. Insolence of that nature one more time and you will be fired."

"And one more time you insult me like this and I'm going to quit," she stood in front of him defiantly. And waited. Well, she could wait till kingdom comes because Sahir could outwait her any time, any day. And that's what he did. He just leaned back in his chair and waited for her to get to the point. Gritting her teeth she said, "I have worked..no..slaved for Saiyyara all these years Sahir. I deserve to be the VP and you know it. On the basis of seniority it was me you were supposed to choose. Instead you chose Gautham. The guy who had entered not a year back. How could you do something like that Sahir? And Arzoo? The girl who had been nothing..I repeat..nothing went from being an intern to a junior designer and now she is what..design team in-charge?" She snorted. "Oh come on now, just because she is.."

"I advice you to think once more before you complete that sentence." He waited for two seconds before asking, "Do you want to complete that sentence?" Anam swallowed and shook her head. "Good." He got up and with his hands in his trouser pockets, strolled leisurely around the table. "Point one, Saiyyara is not a government institute. The only basis of promotion is merit and you know it. Everyone starts out as nothing. It's what we make of ourselves as we go by is what makes that nothing into something. Nepotism is only until you enter Saiyyara. Anything more than that, you have to work for it."

"Then I resign."

Sahir shrugged. "Have you got the offer from that company?" Shock flared in her eyes. "What? You really thought I wouldn't know? I told you before too, didn't I? Nothing escapes me. And if that new job will facilitate you going back to Shiraz.." he shrugged. "You could've just told me instead creating this scene."

Anam threw the file she had been holding on the table and flounced off. Just at the door she turned back to say, "I'm glad to be getting out of here."

"Trust me, so am I."

****

Myra waited until the initial hi and hellos and hugs were done. She gave an extra hug for her Arzoo appi for the long stylish scarf that would add a slight flare to most of her dresses before zooming on to Sahir. "Jeeju, where is my gift?"

"I thought you got it from your appi," his smiling reply hid his hesitation from everyone except his wife.

Myra pouted. "That's from her. I know you got something for me. I saw the gift wrap. Don't tease jeeju. Come on now."

Daadi grinningly added, "Arre Myra, teasing his saalis is every jeeja's right."

"Not on my birthday," she stomped her foot.

Sahir's smile widened. Picking up the gift wrapped painting, he stood up and extended it to Myra. "Happy birthday Myra. May Allah bless you with a long, healthy and happy life."

Myra's entire face lit up like a Christmas tree as she carefully took the gift, sat down on the floor to unwrap it. A two inch wide brown-gold frame adorned the painting. Of a cloudy sky. A long road with puddles of water on it and trees on either side. And three girls in the middle of the road with their faces tilted up to the sky, hands holding each other. Dancing in the rain. Myra was spellbound by the sheer liveliness leaping out of the picture. Arzoo and Zara leaned in to get a peep because Sahir had refused to show what he had painted.

"Wow jeeju! This is.." her fingers softly ran over the painting. "This is just so..I've never seen anything so.." She looked up at him. "Where did you get this from? Who painted it?"

Sahir looked at Arzoo. She looked back at him. Waiting for him to speak. "Painting is..my hobby you could say."

It was a toss-up who screeched louder. Myra or Zara. "Jeeju you did this? You paint?" "Jeejaji, this is just so awesome. You are a painter too. Ya Allah!" "Jeeju, I'm going show this to all my friends. And I love painting. Will you teach me jeeju?" "Jeejaji, you do just sceneries or portraits too? Will you do my portrait? It would just be awesome in my room. I know you're busy and all that of course but.."

Nausheen said loudly, "Chup! Chup! Bas! Girls, let him breathe."

Sahir looked at the three sisters. "During my last visit to Lucknow I was going in my car and it gave some trouble and stopped midway. It was raining." He saw the sisters exchange bewildered looks and continued, "Then I saw three girls on the road, enjoying the rain like there was no tomorrow. I couldn't see their faces but their joy could be heard in their laughter. They pushed my car and it started. Something about the three of you frequently reminds me of that day," he ended with a shrug.

A few moments of stunned silence and then screeching began again. This time Arzoo's voice added as she caught his hand. "Allah knows, that was you inside that car? That was your car?"

"Meaning?" Sahir frowned before it struck him. "That was you?" She nodded. He looked at the other two widely grinning faces. "The three of you?" They nodded before Myra hugged him.

"You couldn't have given me a better gift jeeju. I'll treasure it all my life."

Daadi tried to bring some order into the chaos. "OK OK girls. Now get ready fast or you will miss the beginning of your picture."

Sahir honestly didn't remember the last time he had gone to a movie but courtesy of his biwi and his saalis he was going to one that day. Zara couldn't resist saying, "Jeejaji, I got the tickets for the movie but you have to buy us the popcorn. And buy extra tub for appi. She is very selfish when it comes to popcorn."

Arzoo grumbled. "I don't like action movies but these two didn't listen."

Daadi grinned and winked conspiratorially. "It was different before Arzoo. Now you have your hot boss turned shauhar with you. You can hold on to him whenever you get scared."

"Daadi!" Arzoo blushed furiously while Sahir tried to pretend he didn't hear anything and the girls howled in laughter.

****

Where are you? She came awake, screaming silently as she clawed her way through the shrouding darkness. Where was she? What happened? The small beeping sound that had been a constant presence whenever she had woke up was still present. What was it? She blinked and opened her eyes. Taking in the white ceiling, pale blue tiles on the walls, some kind of monitors.. Monitors! She was in a hospital. Memory slowly trickled in. The doctor, nurses, a lady..she frowned. Her aunt. Memory clicked. She had been the one constant presence whenever she had woken up. Talking to her. Praying for her. Soothing her.

"Zeenat? Meri bachchi? See, look at me? I'm your aunt," the same voice. Zeenat. Yes, she thought. My name is Zeenat.

Lips dry, she tried to move them for the first time. "What.." Was that her voice? Why did it sound so strange? She wondered.

Gentle hand soothed her forehead. "Don't worry. The doctor said you would be confused. You had been in a car accident seven years ago. You got hurt in the head and slipped into a coma. Then three weeks back you opened your eyes for the first time my bachchi. Now you're going to be fine. Absolutely fine in no time."

Accident? She didn't remember. Jerkily she lifted a trembling hand to her forehead but it uselessly fell to her side. "W-water," she licked her dry lips.

Kurti apa immediately reached for the glass with a bendable straw in it and guided it to Zeenat's lips. She sipped it greedily before falling back on the bed. "Hope you stay awake Zeenat beta. Sahir usually visits every alternate day. But you have been asleep every single time."

Zeenat blinked, still a little dazed, her mind resembling that of a cotton ball. "S-Sahir?"

"Yes beta, Sahir. Your shauhar." Another memory clicked. Sahir. Thick hair. Bandana over his forehead, paint smeared t-shirt, faded jeans..her husband..the loser. She frowned at that first thought. "Remember?" Kurti smiled, lost in memories. "Remember your wedding day? Oh what a beautiful nikah that was!" Zeenat blinked again as she tried to regroup. Memory filtered in.

"Zeenat, I know you think I'm not trying hard enough. But believe me, I am. These things just take some time. I know you want me to succeed. And I will. I will make you proud."

Kurti apa's voice broke her reverie. "You relax now and try to stay awake. I'll just go to the canteen and be back in ten minutes. OK?"

Zeenat tried to nod, lift her hand and succeeded in touching Kurti apa's wrist before falling uselessly to the side. She wet her dry lips and tried to speak again. "OK." Her voice was threadbare and rough but still..at least it was working.

She closed her eyes but didn't slide off to sleep. Instead she tried to concentrate. Tried to revive her memories. Bits and pieces started filtering in. The small town, hazy images of her parents, getting down from the train in Mumbai. Kurti apa had come to the station. And she had someone with her. Sahir. That was the first time she had seen him. The trickle of memories became a flow. Their nikah, his first, shy awkward touch, his proud smile as he showed her his first sketch in which he had used her as the muse. Model. She had been a model. The flow of memories became a flood. The way she had forced herself to endure his proximity, his frown of incomprehension quickly followed by hurt. Lights, cameras flashing, parties, voices calling out to her, men..touching her, pleasuring her.. She flinched and cringed at some of those images.

"Why do you even live in this area? In this house? You are a super model now," the hazy image of a man asking her.

Her tired sigh as she said, "My aunt lives here. She doesn't want to move. I don't want to hurt her so for now I have no choice."

"Then accept this gift from me," keys dangled in front of her wide, delighted eyes. "A small gift for the pleasure you've given me. Beautiful models should have beautiful cars."

"Awww..thank you so much," the way she had launched herself into the man's arms..

"Oh, you are still awake! Ya Khuda, I hope Sahir comes soon!"

****

With her head resting comfortably on the pillow, Arzoo ran her fingers through his hair. "Sahir?"

Sahir, with his head pillowed on her tummy, thus forming a delightful T on their bed, continued to play with her fingers idly mumbled a distracted, "Hmmm?"

"I want to see Abu Dhabi. I mean not right now but..some time in future. And Nepal too. I want to see Nepal too. Will you take me?"

She had worn a sari for the first time, a peach with gold and black border. The peach blending beautifully with her fair, almost translucent skin. He turned on his stomach and tickled her bare tummy with his rough stubble, making her squirm and giggle. "This is the effect of Baby movie? I thought you didn't like action movies."

She pushed at him playfully. "Allah knows, I'm talking about sightseeing, not covert operations involving terrorists and ATS."

Sahir grinned and crawled up to rest his head on her chest. "Make a list of places you want to go. I'll take you. I promise."

"Allah knows, not all at one time. We'll plan one trip a year to one nice place."

"When I fell in love with you..I never thought.." He stopped as her grin slipped. "What happened?"

"Which one was a lie Sahir?"

He frowned. "I don't understand. What.."

"Before..I mean during..after my birthday..you said.." She sighed, rubbing her forehead. Allah knows, why she started this topic in the first place. How did it even matter! "You said you loved me. And then you said you couldn't love someone like me..that it was all a game. Which one was the truth at that time? I know your feelings now," she hastened to add. "But what about then? Had it really been a game?"

Sahir sat up and pulled her up until she too was sitting. He cupped her cheeks. "It had never been a game for me Arzoo. I felt a lot during that time. Anger because you weren't speaking the truth, jealous of my own brother because he was so sure that you loved him, desperate that his thinking was going to cause the deal to fall apart.."

"So you did feel something for me? Before?"

His grip on her cheeks tightened before sliding into her hair. "I've never NOT felt for you. Your tears got to me every single time. I saw your innocence and honesty..wanted to protect you in any way that I can..I respected you for the way you stood up to your ammi and sisters.." He swallowed and continued. "When I planned and celebrated your birthday..by then I knew I was in love with you."

"Then that night..all those things you said..was it because.."

"I couldn't do it any more Arzoo. It was no longer about Zaki or the deal. It was all about me. I wanted you. But I knew I couldn't have you. Couldn't make you mine with the issues the way they were..are. I knew the truth would come out in front of you. I wanted you to go away. Leave me. Hate me. Thought that hatred would give you strength to move on." Remembered pain darkened his eyes. "But later, after all that..I couldn't let you go. I couldn't. I..just..couldn't do that Arzoo." His fingers slid to her wrist, gliding over her bracelet. "This..this gave me hope. The fact that you didn't remove this..I hung on to that gesture and what it meant."

She pulled him into her arms and hugged him oh so tight. "I was so confused after that. I didn't know what to do. You said get out of my house and then it was like you were closing all the door and windows making sure I didn't leave." She pressed her lips to his neck, kissed his cheek and pulled away to look at his face. With a smile filled with reassurance, she tried to lighten the atmosphere. "Allah knows what Gabbar Chaudhary would have done if I had refused the marriage deal!"

But he didn't smile. A feral look crossed his face before he pushed her flat on her back and fell on her, catching both her wrists to pull up her arms over her head. "I don't know. Probably tied you up like this until you said qubool hain." His lips slid all over her face. "Arzoo..don't ever leave me. I don't..I won't survi.." She stopped his words with her lips. And deepened the kiss until it drove all dark thoughts away. Reassured and content, he settled back to his prior position. Topics drifted from work to families to their childhood. Some sweet, some bitter sweet. Time held no meaning as they got to know each other in a whole new way. Sahir didn't remember ever talking so much. Afternoon drifted to evening but neither felt like venturing out. Until Sahir got the call. "Hello?"

"Sahir beta?"

"Ji Kurti apa," he sat up, a sense of premonition tightening his face.

"Come to the hospital beta. As soon as you can. Zeenat is doing much, much better now. She is even talking. Not much but she spoke a few words. And she is awake too. Come soon, OK?"

"Ji," he cut the call but didn't move. Didn't rush to get ready. He seemed rooted to the spot. "Zeenat is awake. She is talking. Kurti apa wants me to come." He didn't realize when Arzoo had moved until she was laying down his steel grey suit along with blue shirt and matching tie beside him on the bed. He looked at her. "Will you..will you come with me?" He hastily added, "Not inside but.."

"I'll go get changed."

****

Zeenat heard the door swishing open but didn't open her eyes. Her aunt had gone out again so she presumed it was her returning until the voices suggested otherwise. A couple of nurses walked in. One of them started to change the IV fluids. "I know why you're here," she grinned at her colleague. "You want to get a glimpse of Mr Sahir Azim Chaudhary."

Her colleague giggled. "Of course and man! I swear I forget to breathe when I hear that deep baritone of his!"

"Oh and him being one of the richest guys this city has ever seen doesn't count for you, does it?"

"Well, of course it does. Did you see his latest BMW? But his eyes! Damn! He is one frosty guy! I swear he can freeze the anti-freeze with that one glance of his."

"Being frozen has never been so tempting." Both of giggled and their voices retreated as they routinely jotted down her vitals, changed the IV drip and left the room. But the door did not close. It was held partially open by someone. She could not see who. Could only hear voices.

"Mr Chadhary, just one second please?" The sound of footsteps seemed hurried. "I'm so sorry I couldn't meet you the last time you were here sir. I'm Chaturvedi, the trustee of this hospital."

"Hello." Zeenat frowned at that familiar yet strange voice.

"I just wanted to thank you for the huge donation to our ICU and CCU wards sir. Really, it was.."

"If the amount in some way helps the patients in receiving an even better care in your hospital, that's all the thanks I need." Zeenat couldn't connect with the sheer authority resonating in that voice.

"We will make sure of that sir and thank you so much once again. It's an honour to meet you indeed Mr Chaudhary." There was no mistaking the respect in that tone.

"Khuda hafiz."

A couple of moments of complete silence and then the door was pushed open. Zeenat turned her head and saw a man walking in. Her past and the present clashed. Her mind scrambled at the stark contrast. As it tried to match the image from the past with the one before her. The tailor made three piece suit instead of jeans and t-shirt. Hair as unruly as ever but brushed away from the face instead of the bandana. The confident stride, the ruthlessness stamped across the face. This was Sahir? Where was the tentativeness? The mildness? The softness?

"I won't forget this Zeenat. You have taught me what hatred is. I will never forget this lesson. Not in this lifetime."

He stood beside the bed looking at her. Just..looking at her. But that look unnerved her. Those eyes seemed to see and read everything, divulging nothing. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

She swallowed and wet her lips before trying to speak. "Better."

The nurse had applied some balm but it seemed to have worn off, leaving them once again dry. She wondered what he saw. She had a hazy recollection of how she had been all those years ago. Just that morning she had seen the mirror. It was a stranger's face. Limp unwashed hair, almost plastered to the skull, pale, gaunt face, protruding collar bones, a skeletal figure encased in a shapeless hospital gown. Was he seeing and noting the contrast? No. Why would he? Her aunt had told her that he had visited her frequently. This was how he had been seeing her all these years.

Sahir looked at the woman on the bed. How many days, weeks, months, years had he waited for this day to come. And now it was here and he..he didn't know what to feel. He tried to dredge up the hatred. The anger. The betrayal. The pain. But none came forth. He felt none of those things. "I came before too. You had been asleep," he said. She hadn't once blinked or shifted her eyes away from him. What was she seeing? Did she recognize him? "Do you know who I am?" he asked.

A dry smile formed on her lips. "Sahir." He nodded. "You look.." she cleared her throat before trying again. "You look different." He shrugged.

Kurti apa came into the room. She smiled as she placed an affectionate hand on Zeenat's forehead. "Why wouldn't he look different meri bachchi? He is not the Sahir you knew before. He is now one of the richest guys in this country. You should see your new house now. Niyamat house. You will love it. Get well soon so that you can come there soon."

Other than glancing at Kurti apa once Sahir's face remained impassive. Zeenat tried to smile again. "So you did it, huh? Congratulations Sahir. You've..you won."

The last of his shackles holding him to his past broke, fell and disappeared. "The doctor is talking about a step down from the ICU. A special care room will be arranged and you will be shifted there in a couple of days."

"You don't hate me." She ignored her aunt's protest.

He sighed. "I don't hate you."

"Why?"

"No time I guess."

"You are not the same guy." She felt her eyes closing but forced them to open. "Can..can I meet her?"

Kurti apa huffed. "What nonsense are you talking Zeenat? Meet who?"

Drowsiness was winning over her but she held on. "The one who has made him forget hatred. Who taught him love. Sahir..can I meet her?" Sahir nodded and went outside. A few moments later he was back. But not alone. A girl in white and green kurta pyjama stood beside him now. Silence reigned. Forcing the drooping eyes open once again, she said, "I'm so very sorry Sahir. Sorry for everything. I know I don't deserve your forgiveness.."

"I forgive you. Don't think about it any more. Take rest."

She smiled, surrending to the fatigue dragging her down. "I'm..happy..for you." Her eyes closed and her breathing became deep and even.

****

Sahir almost fell on bed and closed his eyes. The feeling of relief was making him almost dizzy. He felt like a feather, floating away in a gentle, cool breeze. He could think now. He could plan. His future. With his Arzoo. As if conjured from his thoughts, he felt her presence beside him on the bed. "You OK?" she asked.

He nodded but didn't open his eyes. "I didn't lie, you know. I told her I didn't hate her, that I forgive her. And I do."

Arzoo smiled slightly. "I know what you mean. I felt a lot of things about her before today. But today..when I saw her..all I felt was..pity. I couldn't dredge up anything else."

His hand searched and found hers. He brought her palm to his lips and kissed it. "Shukriya."

"What for?"

"For loving me. For accepting me as I am. For being my better half in every way.." he frowned as his phone buzzed in his pocket. With a faintly irritable sigh, he answered it. "Yes?" Shock flared in his eyes. He opened his mouth and closed it without a sound emerging from it. Arzoo shook his arm, her own gaze now worried. "But..I just.." he waited for the other person to speak and squeezed his eyes shut. "I'm..I'm coming."

"Sahir..Sahir what happened?" Arzoo shook his arm again. "Sahir, answer me. Who was it? Who called you?"

Sahir swallowed before trying to speak. "Hospital. Zeenat..Zeenat developed some unexpected complications. A brain haemorrhage due to some blood vessel block." He looked at his wife. "She is no more."

****

"How is bhai holding up?" Zaki continued to pace.

Arzoo tucked the phone between her shoulder and ear as she layed out Sahir's kurta pyjama on the bed. "He is OK Zaki. Still hasn't got back from the cemetery."

"OK. You guys take care. Let me know if..if you need anything."

"Will do. You too take care. Bye." She turned to find Sahir standing at the door of their room. "Everything over?" He nodded before going to sit on the poolchair. Arzoo went and sat beside him, took his hand in hers and entwined their fingers. "You OK?"

A single tear rolled down his cheek. For a life lost. A life wasted. Her fingers gently wiped it away before resting her head on his shoulder. Both remained silent. Lost in their own thoughts. And then they heard. A flutter of wings. Asharfi landed on Sahir's shoulder, moving closer, nudging his cheek, demanding to be petted.

Chukar mere mann ko kiya tu ne kya ishara..badla yeh mausam lage pyara jag sara..

He picked up the once-talking, now-singing parrot, petting it gently with his fingers. With his other arm, he drew Arzoo closer to him. And like the first ray of light after a long, dark night, Sahir smiled.

Padne keliye dilse shukriya dosto.. Ummeed hain aapko pasand aaya ho..jawab ka intezaar rahege. Epilogue on Saturday. Allah hafiz.