AsYa OS: Bol Na Halke Halke

"I believe in rules, Tanu," Asad explained. "Agar insaan koshish kare to koi bhi aadat chor sakh thi hai. Especially jo," he continued, looking down, "usse bohot pasand ho. Lekin woh jaanta ho ki woh uss ke liye sahi nahin hai.."

The words rung in Zoya's ears. Like the sound of an incessantly annoying alarm. It had only been a day or so since the bus accident and their blur of moments together before. And yet somehow, Zoya had managed to remember bits and pieces. She wasn't sure what had happened between them. All she knew was that when he had passed her amid the debris and chaos of the accident, something inside her broke. She had come to depend on him, yes. But this was different. And try as she might, Zoya just couldn't figure out why his words stung her heart like drops of acid.

Her every attempt to get his attention backfired, only to draw negative attention to herself in his eyes. She'd always loved a verbal sparring with him. But since they came back, his words didn't seem lighthearted and playful. They seemed sincere, and even hurtful at times.

And his words that day at the breakfast table echoed louder with his every taunt. About her shayari, about her habits, about everything that made her the bubbly girl she'd learned to be despite her grief in life.

Shaking her head, Zoya stood up from her bed.

"Stop it, Zoya. Tujhe kyun itna farak pad hai agar Mr. Khan teri taraf dekhe ya nahin? Uss Akdu Ahmed Khan ke dil mein mere liye sirf aur sirf nafrat aur annoyance hai. Woh openly mera khayal kyun rakhenge?" Her eyes watered at that last thought and she felt herself sink back onto the bed. But she ignored the feeling, sprang up yet again.

"I just need some fresh air," she decided, making her way to the garden and her favourite bench. The air was warm but pleasant, the scents of all the plants in their green backyard softly passing through her nose. The starry night made her happiest, since you couldn't really see starts in Manhattan. Not even in Central Park.

"Aap hi bataiye, Ammi," Zoya asked, looking up at the skies after settling herself onto the bench. "Mujhe Mr. Khan ki karvi baaton se itna dukh kyun hota hai..? Woh pehle bhi aisi baatein kar the the, lekin pata nahin kyun wahi baatein ab mazaak nahin, balki pehle se zyada judgemental lagh thi hai.."

"Ms. Farooqui.."

Zoya froze. Did he hear me? Allah miya why didn't you warn me he was nearby? What will he think? Slowly, she turned around and locked eyes with him. The intensity was palpable, his every emotion pouring out of his chocolate orbs. Time stood still, and for a minute Zoya forgot where she was. Droplets of rain poured around her, as he smiled at her, holding her hands, wrapping her in a pink and black sequinned saree. His smiled faded, replaced by an intensity and passion in his eyes, as they trailed her face and landed on her lips. Her eyes did the same, and their faces drew closer, their eyes never once moving from each other's lips.

"Aap mujhe itni achi kyun lagh thi hain?"

Blinking Zoya was brought back to reality by his voice once again.

"Ms. Farooqui, are you okay?" Asad asked again, softly. He noticed her eyes tear even more as his words sunk in, and before he could utter another word, she cast her eyes downward, nodded and scurried inside the house without sparing him a second glance.

Asad stood there, dumbfounded. What had just happened?

*****************

Zoya shut the door to her room, leaning against it. That vision she had had, was not a daydream. She was certain. It was real. She could remember the way his electrifying touch felt on her waist, on her hands, on her lips...

"Did we kiss..?" she wondered aloud, caressing her lips with her own familiar fingers. It wasn't the same. His touch made her heart beat erratically, and that was one feeling she could never forget, no matter how fuzzy her memories were. Somehow the idea they might have been intimate didn't horrify her like she thought it would. Instead, she found herself smiling ever so slightly.

But as soon as her smile came, a crashing realization made it disappear. He may be the reason behind her smile, but to him, she was just a musibat, and always would be. He had said it himself. No matter what little liking he may have for her, he would never let himself act on it. She was wrong for him, and always would be. A lone tear streamed down her olive skin, as Zoya Farooqui finally managed to put into words why Asad Ahmed Khan's indifference to her caused her such pain.

*****************

A teary eyed Zoya's face haunted Asad. He tried in vain to go back to his room and get some work done, but her broken demeanour flashed before his eyes with more intensity every time.

Why does she think I want to hurt her? He didn't understand why his words suddenly carried so much weight for her. Before the accident, she'd take any chance she could to get a rise out of him, and thoroughly enjoy bickering with him until one of them gave up. He'd noticed her attempts to be in the loop when he was spending time with Tanu, but as soon as it was just the two of them, she'd clam up. He hated it. And he hated to admit it, but he missed their bickering.

Yet again he'd hurt her. But he had no idea how. Nor did he know how to fix it.

*****************

Morning rolled around and everyone fell into their regular routine. Zoya ate her breakfast quietly, and once she was done, cleared her own plate, washed it, and set it to dry on the drying rack. Asad's jaw dropped, confused by her behaviour. But Zoya seemed unfazed by his gaping gaze on her.

"Phoopi, mein Badi Masjid ke aas paas jaa rahi hoon. Mujhe kuch kaam hai. Kuch khaas kaam ho, toh mujhe phone kar dena, okay?" Dilshad nodded in Zoya's direction, equally confused by her behaviour. Not only did she never clear her own dishes, but Zoya rarely was up early enough to have breakfast with all of them. She made a mental note to talk to her later that day.

"Theek hai, Zoya. Acha suno, since you're going out. Kya tum meri dawai la sakti ho? Pharmacy wahin par hai."

"Of course, Phoopi," Zoya chirped, almost as cheerfully as normal. But Asad could sense her sadness. He looked down, concerned about her attitude, and her well being. After the accident, and Mangalpur, he never felt at ease when she was out of his sight. But alas, he knew she'd decline his offer to accompany her.

One final glance at Asad, and Zoya walked out the front door.

****************

The whole cab ride to the Badi Masjid, Zoya listened to Bol Na Halke Halke on her iPad on a loop. She'd never tire of the song now. Every time she listened to it, a new memory from that night revealed itself to her. She'd smile, relishing their intimate moment, and then feel sad all over again, knowing it would never happen again.

The thought that he'd been forward with her too had struck her. But given his recent attitude towards her in front of Tanu, Zoya was sure whatever temporary lapse in judgement had allowed him to act that way, was now a distant memory. Much like the ones she was remembering.

Hours later, she still hadn't found any clue about her abbu. Zoya sighed, deciding it was time to go home. Stopping on the way at the pharmacy, Zoya made sure she got Dilshad some flowers, coffee for the house, and new notebook for Najma. Although she'd never openly admit it to herself, the coffee was really only for Asad.

Pushing the thought aside, she finally reached home.

***************

"Salaam Walekum, Phoopi!"

"Waalekum Salaam, beta," Dilshad smiled back at Zoya as she entered the house, her hands full of bags. Setting them down on the coffee table, she dug through one of them and pulled out Dilshad's prescriptions.

"Lije, Phoopi. Ab aapko mere saamne hi dawai khani paregi," she quipped, filling a glass with water. Dilshad smiled and shook her head at Zoya's antics. She quietly took her pills and the glass of water from Zoya, and swallowed them.

"Zoya?"

"Jee, Phoopi?"

"Yahan aao. Betho." She obliged, sitting next to Dilshad at the pristine dining table. "Sab theek toh hai na?" Dilshad asked finally, gauging Zoya's reaction. Taken aback by the question, Zoya looked down and fidgeted with her hands.

"Jee, Phoopi. Why would anything be wrong?" she replied cheerily, failing miserably to hide the apparently sadness in her kohl lined eyes. Dilshad sighed and put her hands over Zoya's.

"Beta, kya tumhare aur Asad ke bich kuch hua? Usne tumse kuch kaha kya?" Zoya's head shot up. "Tum batao, mein Asad ko sidha karoongi," she teased. But instead of cheering her up, Dilshad noticed tears form in Zoya's eyes.

"Rehne dije, Phoopi. Kuch nahin hua, I promise. Mr. Khan ne mujhse aisi koi baat nahin ki jiski wajese aapko un par chilana chaiye." Taking Dilshad's hands into her own, Zoya kissed them and they shared a look. "Mere aur Mr. Khan ke beech kuch nahin badla hai," she assured her, looking down at their hands to avoid Dilshad's eyes. "Aur nahin kabhi badal lega."

A wave of helplessness washed over Dilshad as she realized, as always, Zoya wouldn't let her problems be known. Giving up for the time being, she gave Zoya's hands a sympathetic squeeze and kissed her on the forehead.

"Koi bhi baat ho, toh mujhe bata dena, hmm?" she offered still, getting up from the table. Zoya nodded half-heartedly, watching as Dilshad retired into her room. Sighing, she did her best to swallow the lump forming in her throat and grabbed the rest of her bags from the living room. She didn't want to give Mr. Khan even the slightest chance to reprimand her for being messy. It wasn't because she was afraid of being yelled at, or because she wanted to show him she could be clean. She simply didn't feel like irking him. Not anymore.

Just as she was heading to her room, she heard the click of a familiar room door open, and closed her eyes.

"Ms. Farooqui," came the deep voice she was desperately trying to avoid. Zoya turned around and looked down at her feet, avoiding any and all form of eye contact with him.

"Jee, Mr. Khan," she replied, dryly. Asad blinked at her tone.

"Are you okay?" he asked yet again, his tone softer.

"Yes, Mr. Khan. Mein bilkul theek hoon." Out of the corner of her eye she noticed the glass Dilshad had had her pills with was still on the dinning table. Setting the bags down onto the table, she grabbed it, rinsed it out and set it to dry on the rack, once again ignoring Asad's look of shock. Grabbing her bags, she nodded in his direction, and went into her room without uttering another word.

Asad was once again baffled by her behaviour. He knew he'd been harsh, and although the idea of her cleaning up after herself thrilled him, it was the way she was doing it that made him feel uneasy. So robotically, as if it was habit, as if she was performing a mindless, yet meaningless task. It wasn't her. She always put her all into anything she did. Happily narrating her ideas, and how she thought to bring them about. Something was wrong.

Interrupting his thoughts, Zoya came out of her room again, and handed him a disposable paper cup with a slip cover and lid.

"Coffee. Sambhal ke pijega. Bohot garam hai," she warned him. A small tingle of happiness in the pit of his stomach made him momentarily forget her odd behaviour as it dawned on him that she had bought him coffee, without him asking for it. Yet immediately after, he felt sad, as he watched her retreat just as quickly as she'd come out, back into her room.

He couldn't take it. He always managed to keep his distance from her, because she was still happy and immersed in other things. But this wasn't like her. And her silence was driving him crazy.

"Ms. Farooqui, darwaza kholiye."

Zoya sighed, jumping off her bed and reluctantly opened the door.

"Jee?" she asked quietly, looking down. Asad felt a stab of guilt yet again.

"You've been acting very oddly. Are you sure, ki aap theek hain?"

"Oh really?" He had to stop himself from smiling. He'd missed hearing her sass him. "Ab meine kya kiya Mr. Khan?" The question took him by surprise.

"Nahin, woh actually, mera woh matlab-" he started, but Zoya didn't let him finish.

"Meine koi bhi mess nahi chodi. Aap dekhenge toh mera kamra bhi ek dum saaf hai. Agar mujhse koi aur bhi galati hogai toh please. Mujhe bata dije. Meni uss ke liye bhi maafi maang leti hoon." Asad stared at her blankly, drinking in her speech. She thought he was there to reprimand her? But he had just asked if she was okay.

"Nahin, aapne kuch nahin kiya.." he began hesitantly, but again Zoya interrupted him.

"Exactly! Meine kuch bhi galat nahin kiya! Mujhse jo bhi galatiya hoti hain woh jaan buch kar nahin hoti hain. Meri niyat buri nahin hai. Magar phir bhi aap koi bhi moka nahin jaane dete hain mujhe daantne ke liye. Kyun Mr. Khan? Akhir aapko mujhse takleef kiya hai?" Tears were streaming down Zoya's face now, as she challenged him with her eyes.

Asad staggered back a step, unsure what to say. Her tears made his heart ache, but his mind stopped him from wiping them; from soothing her pain.

"Mein aapko itni galat laghti hoon, Mr. Khan?" Zoya whispered. "Jabse Tanveer aayi hai, mujhe mein kamian dhoondne ke alwa aapko kuch aur nazar nahin aata hai. Aur mein jaanti hoon, meri galatiyan bohot hain. Lekin lately, aapki baatein..." She trailed off, the lump in her throat not letting her speak clearly anymore.

Asad's hands balled into fists, resisting the urge to pull her into him and sooth her. He did like that Tanveer was so responsible and careful. But he didn't mean to make Zoya feel small. Had he really done that? Was he really that much meaner to her now?

"Rehne dije, Mr. Khan. Aapko mujhse koi rishta rakhne ki koi zaroorat nahin hai. Mein aapko force nahin karoongi." Asad's eyes went wide. What does she mean by that!?

"Aapka kya matlab hai, Zoya?" he asked quietly. Zoya stared at him as if took her heart and tore it in two.

"Yahi, ki aap apne rules bana lije. Aap mein itni fursat hai. Ki aapko jo bhi cheez khush kar sakh thi hai, aap usse door bhag the hain. Magar mein aisi nahin hoon, Mr. Khan."

"I believe in rules.." His own proclamation run in his ears and realized she could tell he was trying to keep his distance. How did she know that..

"Mein," Zoya continued, "khush hona chati hoon. Aur jo bhi cheez," she paused. Her gaze met his dead on, "ya jo bhi insaan, mujhe khushi deta hai, mein usse apne aap se door nahin karoongi." Once again, Asad's eyes widened in shock. "Lekin agar wahi cheez, khud mujhse door hona chat hai, to theek hai," Zoya declared. "Mein bhi wahi karoongi."

Before she burst into a second round of tears, Zoya reached for the door to shut it.

But it wouldn't move.

"Kya mein aapko kush karta hoon?"

Zoya's eyes burned. Did he just say that? Zoya's gaze shifted back up to to meet his. It was her turn to be shocked.

"Jawab dije, Ms. Farooqui. Kya mein aapko, sach mein, itni khushi deta hoon?" Her eyes widened, as she digested his question. He never spoke of emotions, and avoided those conversations at all costs. And yet now, somehow, he was directly asking her if he made her happy? Asad took another step closer to her, and wiped her tears, Zoya's hands now falling slowly to her sides, all her intents on closing her bedroom door now gone.

His fingers against her soft cheeks gave her butterflies in her stomach, her mind a mess. Her skin tingled, as if his touch lingered, even after his fingers moved from under eyes, to cupping her face affectionately.

"Boliye, Ms. Farooqui," he whispered, now only a few inches between them. Zoya swallowed, once again drowning in his expressive eyes that now begged her for answers. "Kya aapko, mujhse itni khushi mil thi hai..?" Asad's voice trailed off, as his eyes trailed down from her frightened and shocked eyes, to her pink plum lips. Zoya's eyes followed, her gaze dropping to his lips, and there they stood in silence, merely an inch apart.

"Mein aap ke liye ek musibat hoon, Mr. Khan," Zoya let out suddenly, withdrawing from their perfect moment. But Asad wouldn't let her. Wrapping his arm around her waist, he pulled her flush to his chest, eliciting a soft gasp.

"Mere sawal ka jawab dije, Ms. Farooqui," he insisted again. "Please," he whispered. Zoya looked up into his eyes again, and felt herself melt. Her eyes filled with unshed tears once again, she closed her eyes, a tear streaming down her cheek.

"Mere khush hone ya na hone se, aapko kya farak parega, Mr. Khan?" Zoya countered, once again avoiding his question.

"Kyun ki aapki audasi mujhse dekhi nahi jaati hai.."

Zoya's eyes shot up in utter surprise. His eyes seemed to be leaping out at her, more than usual.

"Phir aap mujh par itna chilate kyun hai," she continued in a small voice, wondering when he'd suddenly clam up again, and go back to his angry young man demeanour.

"You make my blood boil," he started. Zoya's eyes saddened. "Aapne meri perfect, aur simple zindagi mein, rang bhardiya hai." As he said these last words, he noticed Zoya's eyes well up, but her gaze soften. "Aapke aane se pehle, men bhp gaya tha, ki khushi kya ho thi hai, hassi kya ho thi. Meri andheri mein roshni bankar aati hain aap," he stopped, noticing a slight shock in her eyes.

"Aap, aapko yaad hai, hain na, Mr. Khan," she whispered. It was more of a statement than a question. Asad's lips curved up ever so slightly and Zoya got her answer. His hand touched her face again, and Zoya's breathing hitched slightly as he traced her lips once again, just as he had that same night.

"Lekin, aap, mein aapke liye," Zoya stuttered, unable to form a coherent sentence. Asad smiled broadly now, enjoying his effect on her. He didn't want to keep his distance anymore. He couldn't. It was hurting her, more than it was hurting him. He leaned in closer, their lips merely a hair apart.

"Aapke dimple ne, mere dil ka katal bohot din pehle kar chukka tha," he whispered before claiming her lips. Zoya gasped, closing her eyes, giving into his soft lips against hers. He nibbled at her lips softly, before deepening the kiss. Zoya's fingers knotted into his ebony hair, pulling him closer, as she felt Asad's arms pull her waist closer against him.

They pulled apart after a minute of ecstacy, and joined foreheads, their breathing heavy.

"Bas ek vaada kije." Asad was the first to break the silence. Zoya nodded, looking up him questioningly.

"Agli baar, pakode lene se pehle, naam theek se pard lije ga," he teased, smiling as Zoya's eyes went wide and her cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

"Agar meine woh pakodein nahin liye the, toh mujhe kaise pata hota, ki aap itne romantic ho sakh the hain?" Zoya smirked at him, and Asad chuckled.

"Patience, Ms. Farooqui. Ab tak, aapne kuch nahin dekha hai," he assured her, sealing her lips before she could sass him again.

Hope you liked it! 😳