Sahir Arzoo FF | Love, law, inter alia | Chapter 20: Pg 91 [COMPLETE] - Page 19

Originally posted by: raaz19

Think about what? 😆

BTW, I hope the update is coming tomorrow 😕

Originally posted by: madhu31

Hehe.. sooner than you think! I am on the finishing touches as we speak 😛

Thanks for the enthusiasm, Madhu and Razia! 😳

Chapter 9

Of amicable settlements and blossoming friendships

Sahir Azeem Chaudhary was not new to finding himself at the receiving end of female attention. He had been made to understand that he was widely regarded as something of a catch, in the legal circle and beyond - being, as he was, a young and successful barrister with bright prospects and a spotless reputation. Some had even intimated to him that he was good to look at, which, understandably, he took with a pinch of salt, because the eyes of his beholders could very well be seeing him through lenses of profitability and convenience. He could understand the appeal that he held, because logic would dictate that he was a safe bet when it came to embarking upon sustainable relationships.

But they did not know him. Nobody really did. Zeenat Hosseini, who was gushing over him across the dinner table, and, in view of his decided aloofness, had taken to dropping very obvious hints of her intentions, knew even less. And a part of him felt that she did not even want or need to know anything beyond the fact that the boxes in her checklist had been ticked off satisfactorily.

"Sahir," Zeenat pouted, "you haven't answered my question. I can't believe a man like you is not in a relationship."

Her words were deliberate and slow, and then she laughed, as though she had been speaking in jest. Her laughter was just as contrived and rehearsed as the rest of her. It was perfectly musical and caused her long hair to dance in measured artistry across her face. She was very pretty of course, in the way that some models were, with symmetrical, polished, elegant features, and soulless eyes. She was a nice and agreeable person, no doubt, and highly accomplished too, especially for her age - in every possible way, a most suitable prospective partner who should have been having men throw themselves at her feet. He felt sorry for her that she should be pursuing him thus, to no avail, but that was, in all honesty, all that he could bring himself to feel.

And it was perhaps rightly so, because the Sahir that she and others considered to be a suitable match, was only who he projected himself to be on the surface. She would have had nothing of the other Sahir, the nightmare-ridden man who ran away from emotions and any other comparable sign of weakness that could cause him pain. He had grown up taunted and bullied by his peers and family members alike, watching his parents fight through a crack in the door, then trying to muffle the sounds with a tear-soaked pillow, then pleading before his mother to take him along with her, and having to stay back in that wretched home to endure the renewed taunts of his father and his so-called new mother. And as much as he tried to fashion himself a new personality that was as distinct as possible from that scarred child, it was still a part of him, beneath all that renown and swagger. Zeenat and the others saw his drive for professional achievements as a sign of strength and stability, but could not perceive the frustrating hollowness of it all.

"I am in a relationship with my work, I guess," he replied dismissively.

"Some of the best lawyers are married, you know. It's not exactly impossible," she said, flashing a smile that did not quite reach her eyes.

"I don't see myself getting married," he said, honestly. His parents should not have gotten married, and they certainly should not have had children to whom they would hand down that legacy of anguish, distrust and hatred.

"Oh come on, Sahir," she rolled her eyes in a theatrical manner that may have seemed attractive to some, "you can't be serious! You are just being choosy. Tell me, do you have a type?"

"A type?"

"A type of person that you are likely to fall for," she explained, as one would to a child.

He forced himself to smile politely, even as he began to feel increasingly irritated by her pushiness and artificiality. This was all Arzoo's fault. If only she had come to the dinner as well, it may have been a less painful experience. He had a niggling suspicion that this may well have been a deliberate ploy of hers to irritate him. It would not be the first time. He could just picture her laughing to herself in her room as she imagined his discomfort. She knew, after all, how awkward he generally was around people anyway, and having to fend off someone with a potentially romantic interest in him was an even more arduous task. Something told him that she would have foreseen this. And that 'something' was quite possibly that impish glint in her eyes when she had said that she would not be able to join them for dinner. He should have known. Typical Arzoo!

"Who are you thinking about?" Zeenat interjected.

"Arzoo," he blurted out without thinking.

Zeenat's face fell, "Arzoo? The intern, you mean?"

He could tell from the look on her face, that she had misunderstood his answer.

"No," he said hurriedly, "Not in that way. I was just wondering if she is okay, because she was unwell yesterday. We are just colleagues, and... friends, kind of... I don't know. I mean, it's not what you are thinking. Not that I don't like her. I do, but it's just, not in that way."

"Oh, I see," she replied, unconvinced, and after a few moments of icy silence, she proceeded to change the subject to a judgment on that had been handed down by the Supreme Court on the previous day.

To be honest, he was not quite convinced by his own explanation himself. If anything, Arzoo was the closest anyone could get to the kind of companion he had once craved for, during the time when he had not yet persuaded himself that there was nothing lonely about solitude. She could read his silences, and he felt that he could read hers too. For some reason, they just connected in a way that defied all rational explanation. Oh, Arzoo was quite possibly his "type," but of course, he was most certainly not the type to chain himself down in the suffocating shackles of relationships, nor was he the kind who would be able to be a good partner to somebody, for he was far too broken to bring the required reassuring stability to somebody else's life.

Yet he could not deny that she was a breath of fresh air in his stifling life, she was sunshine, she was happiness and hope, so much so, that the very idea that they were perhaps friends brought solace to him. He could not deny that he had grown so fond of her that her absence rendered him uneasy and restless. Just as it did then, as he sat across the table from Zeenat, sombrely discussing the judgment, his thoughts jumping back to Arzoo ever so often.

Once the dinner was over, and he had brought himself to part with Zeenat as politely as he could, given that they were after both in the same field, and also because he would not have wanted her to feel pained on his account, his steps led him to Arzoo's room, before his brain could butt in with some sensible remark. It was surprising, evidently, that someone as stubbornly reticent as him should have grown so naturally comfortable around her in so little time, but he did not give it much thought. It was exhausting to think through everything and he was glad for the break.

"Sahir Sir," Arzoo welcomed him happily, "how was dinner?"

He was right about her having sent him with Zeenat on purpose. Her eyes were definitely sparkling with mischief.

"You tried to set me up with her?" he exclaimed, in mock outrage.

She could barely contain the twitching corners of her lips, as she feigned innocence, "Don't tell me she tried to hit on you!"

"I will kill you," he grumbled, as he compulsively straightened out the folds in her quilt.

"She is a lovely person though," Arzoo replied, unfazed, with a hint of a giggle in her voice.

"Seriously, can you imagine me in a relationship? Buying flowers and teddy bears and singing around trees?"

"Oh my God, that's what I thought!" she laughed.

"You actually pictured me like that? What is wrong with you woman?"

"There were heart-shaped balloons too... oh, and colourful frilly shirts," she elaborated, her eyes misting up with another impending fit of laughter.

"You wait until I start my match-making business and set you up with someone," he quipped, without thinking.

He knew instantly that he should not have said that. A vacant expression came over her face as the light in her eyes retreated to that painfully haunted space to which she allowed nobody access. And then, before his very eyes, within seconds her expression had morphed into a forced air of neutrality.

"Don't even dare," she replied, "you do know I have the Bar Exam to take in order to qualify as a barrister. I cannot allow anything to distract me from my studies."

Although she had feigned an unfelt smile, she had been unable to disguise that catch in her throat, but he pretended not to notice the change in her composure as he said, "You will definitely pass your exams, you should not be worried about that at all."

"You really think so?" she gasped, her eyes poring into his, with an air of yearning that caused his own heart to ache with anguish.

"I don't lie, and I would never lie to you, Arzoo" he stated, matter-of-factly. "Come with me. I want to show you something."

He brought her into his hotel room, and placing his own lawyer's gown around her shoulders, he walked her to the full-length mirror, and stood behind her.

"Advocate Arzoo Nawsheen Khan, all you need in order to succeed, is to picture yourself as having already succeeded. Imagine yourself having cruised through those exams, and standing with your head held high, as you take the oath of office and pledge to uphold the dignity of the profession. There is nothing standing in the way of you and your dreams. You are almost there. You have tremendous potential and I believe in you."

Tears welled in her eyes as she looked at herself, and then up at him. His hands were still lightly placed on her shoulders and he slowly spun her around and flicked away with his thumb the tears that had rolled down her cheeks.

She closed her eyes as she said, in a strangled whisper, "I want to, but I find it difficult to study, to focus. There is so much on my mind. I feel like I'm drowning and there is no escape."

He felt his breaths being ripped away from his lungs as he saw the misery and despair etched on her face.

"There is an escape, Arzoo," he said softly, cupping his palms around her face tenderly, "I am there, and if you feel like sharing, you can -"

"I can't," she sobbed, and he felt his heart weighed down by the pain in her voice.

"It does not have to be today," he said gently, as he withdrew his hands away from her face and stepped back, suddenly conscious of their proximity, "Whenever you feel ready, just remember that I... I am... I am your friend and I will always be there for you."

The words poured out from his mouth before he could run them through his mind, and temper them into a less cheesy form, perhaps, but he was glad for it. His unspoken longing for them to be friends, for them to be something other than colleagues, had weighed down upon him for a long time. As the words left him, he felt overcome by a sudden wave of buoyancy.

She smiled a watery smile as she sniffled and wiped away the rest of her tears, "Thank you, Sir."

"You can call me Sahir. We are friends now, aren't we?" he said, returning the smile.

"Sahir," she echoed, and gazing deep into his eyes, as she continued, "I am glad we are friends. You are a good person."

"No, you are the nice one, spreading happiness all around you, always stepping in to help others," he said earnestly, "Honestly. You have no idea how special you are!"

She lowered her eyes, visibly embarrassed, and said, awkwardly, "Thanks. So... um - what did you eat?"

"Thai," he replied, somewhat relieved at the change of subject, "And you? You have eaten, right?"

"Yes, of course. I had naan and chicken jalfrezi."

And for some time, they continued to speak about meaningless nothings, as if it were just another random day and they were aimlessly whiling away the time. But he knew that she knew too that their relationship had deepened, that they had grown closer to each other as though it were only natural. And he knew that he did not have to constantly think everything through before telling her how he felt - it was a most liberating feeling.

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Ps. My apologies in advance - next update will be a bit delayed.

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Chapter 10: Page 34

Originally posted by: ikhlass

Youpiii !!!!!!J'ai pas encore lu mais je vais le faire de ce pas... Je reviens