OS: Tranche de Vie Series- Page 2

Tranche de Vie: Jungle Love

As we were getting ready for bed; I informed Seher know Ihad to go to Adamganj for couple of nights in a few days. There was a meetingwith some of the community leaders. They’ve also asked if you could join aswell; some of the women and young girls would like to speak with you. She washappy to join.

As we reached the city limit, I received a message. I toldSeher, I needed to take care of this urgently. “I can drop you at the haveli orthe market then send a car to pick you up,” I asked. She wanted to wanderaround the market and pick up some books.

We recently reconciled after almost 2 years apart. Her agerevelation and Nazima’s tricks; all misunderstandings are cleared up now, butthe trust is still a little shaky. We aren’t back to where we were before itall, yet! She is a little distant. She feels no one asked her opinion on whathappened to her; not Parvez, not me.

A few hours later, I sent Seher a location pin for pickupfrom the car service.

“Location received, see you soon!” she messaged.

Another message 10 minutes later, “where is this place? Weseem to be going away from civilization.”

“It’s an odd location. Driver is trusted. You are safe.” Iresponded back.

The car stopped on the side of the road, near a wooded area.I can imagine she was ready to defend herself and flee from any danger. Itapped her window and opened the door. The tight grip of whatever she washolding in her purse loosened. She took my offered hand and existed the vehicle.I thanked the driver and he drove off.

As the car disappeared from sight; she asked me, “Where isthis place? I don’t see any other cars or people, nothing but the jungle. Youknow there are easier ways to get rid of me?... Like getting engaged to someoneelse,” she closed with a jab.

It was deserved. She wasn’t thrilled to find out I woulddestroy my life to make her’s better. She understood why but didn’t agree withthe fake engagement drama so she could study further. Also not telling her thetruth about that night definitely didn’t help either. I didn’t need tobe a villain in her story for her to succeed, her words.

“Trust me?” I asked as I pointed to the opening in betweenthe trees. The look she gave me said she was still mad but followed, nonetheless.

After about 10 minutes, we entered a clearing; she instantlyrecognized it by the look on her face. It was the place where we spent thenight after escaping the tiger; the place where she had to burn her books. Thebooks I was surprised I had given her money for; it was hard to say no to herexcitement even with the confrontation the night before.

She looked around at the fully set up tent, the torcheslighting up surroundings, the fire pit surrounded by cozy seating.

She looked at me then again at her surroundings, “You didthis?” She asked surprised.

“You had some complaints about our stay here the last time;figured we should fix that,” I tried to lighten the mood.

“And the forest service just let you setup camp in themiddle of the jungle?,” she asked as a smile begun to form on her face.

“They said they owed us for helping them capture the tiger.They also said no to advertise the favor,” I told her as the tension slowlyeased.

“Thank you for coming and thank you for trusting me enoughto walk into the jungle,” I told her as I led her to one of the seats in frontof the fire.

I kneeled in front of her, taking her hands in mine, “I’msorry. I should have trusted you enough to tell you the truth instead ofcreating a rouse of the engagement. It was easier to do this; so you could pushme away, to break your trust in me.”

“Easier?” she asked, the hurt again visible in her eyes.

“You know what I mean. Easier for you to push me away, tohate me, to forget me so you wouldn’t hurt as much,” I tried to explain.

“Was it…EASIER?

For me?

For you?

I lowered my gaze, I had no answer.

“You matter too. You put yourself between me and heartachebecause I matter to you. Would you have gone through with it if Ammi hadn’toverheard your conversation with Nazima? And what about me? How am I supposedto feel that someone who matters to me put themselves in a position tohurt themselves for me?” she retorted.

“I knew that if you found out the truth, you wouldn’t leave.You would find a solution for the age then I couldn’t see you fulfilling yourdream. You would have been stuck in the four walls of the Niyazi Manzil. Youwouldn’t have been able to fly.” I told her

“Yeah! I would have. I could have stayed with Ammi till Iwas 18. There were options but you didn’t bother to ask me about any of it.Just made the decision and it was final. I had to live with theramifications,” she fired back.

“You were still young, Seher. I didn’t want you to bechained down because you had this notion of love in your mind. At that age,it’s puppy love but with marriage that would have been for a lifetime. I wantedto you to make a decision when you were older, when you could fully understandyour heart, your feelings,” I explained.

“And look where that landed us,” she fired back.

Flashback

The divorce had not happened because Seher walked out afterI confronted her about her age. After that she cut all contact with me andanyone in the Niyazi Manzil. Any effort to make contact went unanswered.

Eventually, Kausar Khalajaan had finally told her the truthon her 18th birthday. She told her the conversation she overheardwith Nazima. Also, how the engagement never happened and the confrontationbetween her and I about Seher. After seeing her child in pain, she had plannedto confront me on why I would destroy her daughter’s life. That’s when she heardthe conversation with Nazima. She asked me plainly what the real truth was; Itold her it was just about her age. If I had known about Seher’s real age, themarriage would have never happened. I asked her to promise me to never tellSeher so she could move on with her life and achieve their dream of herbecoming a doctor. But just like all the mothers in the world, she understoodme and my pain; asked me if this is how much I cared for her daughter? Theconversation ended and the question remained unanswered.

Over the two years, Khalajaan would send messages here andthere with updates on Seher’s schooling. On one such occasion, Seher caught Khalajaansending a video of her celebrating her college acceptance. She had accused hermother of with siding with the enemy and that’s when Khalajaan told her the wholetruth. After Kausar Khalajaan had asked her to decide what she really wanted;if she wanted me in her life or not; and if not then she needed to set me free.

The next person on the confrontation tour was Dada Huzur. Shefirst confronted him with lying to me about her age. She also told him that ifshe and I decided to reconcile; she would continue her education. She told himshe needed to know as Mufti he was okay having a daughter in law who waseducated. She wanted to know if she came back to Niyazi Manzil would it killher dreams? Dada Huzur agreed, stating he had not made a mistake in choosingher for me. You will walk in step with Mahid to make a brighter future for ourcommunity.

The last target on her confrontation tour was me. She hadfound me at the dargah and essentially dragged me to the roof, not that itwould have taken much effort. I was dumbfounded seeing her in person for thefirst time since our separation; save for the few photos or videos from Khala.

“Congratulations! You lied and broke your promise,” were herfirst words to me in almost 700 days.

“You go around fighting for the whole damn world, for what’sright. You couldn’t fight this? Couldn’t fight for me and my dreams againstyour family? Couldn’t challenge the old ways of thinking? Everything was a lie.Was any of it real?” she roared in anger.

“It’s not as simple as that and you know it” I said as Ifound my voice. “To make some real and lasting changes, I must lead by example.I can’t ask people to follow if I don’t follow the rules myself.”

“Yes! The great Mahid Niyazi and his azools. Damn whoevergets in the way. You cast me out of your life to make sure you made a goodMufti” she said as her voice rose with each word.

“It’s not as black and white or simple as that” I shot backmy anger rising.

“Isn’t EVERYTHING black or white AND right or wrong withyou? No grey. No room for interpretation of the situation,” she said.

“This had nothing to do with anything else but yourage.” She scoffed as I explained. I took a breath to calm my voice before Icontinued.

“I never wanted to get married, never wanted to trustanother woman after Ammi. I never agreed till we kept crossing paths. I marriedyou, Seher because I was falling for you. I could see a future with you. Youwere someone who understood me and my pain. Someone who didn’t judge me by myanger but understood the reason behind it. You have NO IDEA how hard it is topush someone away who became a part of my soul; meri jaan basti hai app mein,Seher,” I told her.

She stood there stunned then disappeared as quickly as shehad appeared. A week later she messaged me to meet. We talked more; she decidedshe wanted to reconcile so here we are now in the jungle.

End flashback

“I understand that you didn’t want me to regret my decisionbut that doesn’t make it hurt any less. Your principles and the way you wantfair treatment for all is one of the things I love about you. Even Ammi triedto make me understand after she told me; what you said and what you didn’tsay to her. She could see the pain in your eyes,” Seher said.

There was nothing more to say so we sat in silence with thecrackling of the fire and our tears.

We wanted to be together, needed to be together but we justcouldn’t figure out how to move on from the past.

As the fire slowly died, neither of us made the effort tokeep it going; the darkness was almost inviting.

Sometime later, Seher headed towards the tent. There was noindication on whether I should follow so I remained still. I could see hersilhouette from the lights in the tent. She sat with her head in her hands for sometime then began to pace the length of the tent. At the sound of a crash, Irushed into the tent. She had knocked over a small table and was now ready tohurl a chair. My arrival stopped her. I took the chair from hands and put itaside. The silence was palpable but there were no right words to say.

I moved to leave the tent when she laced her fingers with mine.We turned to face each other and our eyes locked. I stood still, leaving Seherto lead what came next. She closed the space between us; our foreheads touched.The silence remained. What our words could never say, our eyes could.

The atmosphere felt different, lighter, suddenly as if wefinally made peace with the past.

I opened my mouth to speak but she nodded no. I wiped theremnants of the tears from her face. I could see the smile return to her face.

She grabbed my collar to pull me close; she cups my face inher hands. Ever so slowly the spacebetween us grew smaller. Our lips met gently at first before the kiss becamemore passionate.

The Adamganj jungle would always be special.

Our first kiss during this trip trip and the first time withour “honeymoon” trip, zingagi khubshoorat hai.

We were always our happiest in the jungle of Adamaganj.

Beautiful beautiful beautiful😍😍😍😍😍 can't say how beautiful it is maher and their soul connection their care their immense love for each other ❤❤❤❤our og maher hiw beautiful they were

Thank you so much keeping them alive ❤❤❤😍😍🥰🥰🥰

Originally posted by: rachufan

Beautiful beautiful beautiful😍😍😍😍😍 can't say how beautiful it is maher and their soul connection their care their immense love for each other ❤❤❤❤our og maher hiw beautiful they were

Thank you so much keeping them alive ❤❤❤😍😍🥰🥰🥰

Awww! Thank you so much. I'm glad there a few people still reading and enjoying the OG Maher.

Author's Note: Adamganj was one of my favorite tracks on the show. I love the versions of them we got to see there. Currently this is the last story in this series. I have at least 2 more ideas but let's see if I find the time and the inspiration. This snippet is how I imagine the future MaHer. I personally think it's not my best work but I thoroughly enjoyed writing this one. I hope you all enjoy it AND if it is my last MaHer writing; it's their happily ever after.

Tranche de Vie: Anniversary

Seher had all of her clothes spread out on the bed. Myraised eyebrow didn’t prompt a response but a question in return.

“Can you help me get the suitcase?” she asked as shecontinued to pull out more clothes.

I moved to help with the suitcase when she asked anotherquestion, “Can I take your car to Adamganj for a few days? Remember the girls we met the last time wewere there? One of them is getting married in a few weeks and has invited us toattend her wedding. You have your conference, plus our anniversary falls thatweek but I feel like at least I should go for a couple of days.”

I had flashbacks of our first time in Adamganj; the jungle,the marigold field.

“Mahid! Can I take the car?”, she asked again bringing meout of my thoughts. I nodded in theaffirmative and she began with the barrage of new questions.

“What should I wear for the nikaah? The green or the pink?Which bangles? What about this necklace?” she prattled on.

Seher’s POV

My suitcase was already in the car, I was looking for Mahidto say goodbye before leaving for the wedding. I couldn’t find him anywhere;his luggage was also gone. Did he leave without saying goodbye?

I messaged him, “I am leaving for Adamganj. Will call when I reach the haveli. Let meknow when you reach as well. Wanted to say goodbye but looks like you mighthave left already. Have a safe trip and a great conference. Love you!

I waited for a response, but none came. Something has feltoff between us recently. Are we too busy to find time for each other? I brushedthe thought aside as I opened the car door. I hop in and to my utter shock;guess who is sitting in the passenger side seat? He just smiled smugly at myshocked open mouth; and said, “we are going to be late,” tapping his watch.

Did I miss something? My brain couldn’t comprehend what washappening.

“Am I dropping you off at the airport?” I asked confused.

“Let’s get on the road so we can avoid traffic,” he said.

For 30 minutes there was silence and I was clearly annoyed.

“Are you going to explain? What about your conference?” Iexploded.

“There is no conference, there never was. I was going to askyou to join me at the conference and surprise you with a little holiday for ouranniversary. Obviously, that wasn’t going to work with you going to Adamganj,”he explained.

“I wish you would have told me. I would have cancelled,” Ireplied stunned by the answer.

“It would defeat the purpose of a surprise if I told you,wouldn’t it?” he chuckled as he spoke. “Are you going to drive or are we goingto spend the next four days by the side of the road?”

As I pulled up to the Adamganj haveli; I realized I hadasked the caretaker to clean the haveli and stock the fridge then take time offfor the duration of my stay. I didn’t need people around since I was mostlyusing the house to sleep.

“I asked the staff to get the house ready and be availableif needed. I wasn’t planning on keeping them around while I was here,” I toldhim as we existed.

His “hmm” was the only response as he moved to get theluggage.

We unpacked and settled in after lunch before heading to themehndi function. Everyone was surprised to see Mahid but so happy he was ableto attend. All the women applied mehndi, myself included; there was music anddancing. Mehndi ceremonies are always the most joyous of any wedding events; yetmy mind kept drifting back to my mehndi. The flashes of the event and theprivate conversation between Mahid and I kept replaying in my mind. He seemedto be in a similar predicament as our eyes found each other’s throughout thenight. We drove home in relative silence other than my random babbling aboutthe food and décor.

I kicked off my shoes at the door then walked to the kitchento make some tea. Mahid went towards the bedroom. After some time, he found mesipping tea on the porch staring at the night sky. He immediately took off hisshawl and wrapped it around me.

“You are freezing,” he said.

Mahid Niyazi, forever my protector, I thought to myself witha wry smile.

“Come inside and warm up or you’ll catch a cold,” headmonished.

I instead sat down on the first step and continued gazing atthe dark night sky.

“Seher! Are you listening?” he asked exasperated then satdown next to me.

“I’ve been thinking about our mehndi and nikaah tonight. Somuch grandeur and opulence and so many lies. Dada Huzur’s, Abbu’s… mine’s. Howmany lies did I tell you then?” I look at the mehndi on my hand then at Mahid.

“I hurt you, didn’t?” I never wanted to, but I was selfish,so I lied, I ran and hurt someone I never wanted to hurt in the process. Do youknow I saw you on our nikaah day when I was running? I saw you genuinely smilelike I hadn’t before. You looked so happy and I destroyed that in an instance.Sometimes I wonder if I was genuine about my vows. They were before Allah so Ilike to think I was genuine or was it just another lie I told myself?”

He took a hold my hands, “Look at me please” his voicepleaded.

I could see the fear in his eyes.

“Why are you bringing all this up again? We’ve talked aboutit already. I understand why you lied and why you ran away. Your Ammi’s lifewas in danger, and you did the only thing you could to save hers. I’ve forgivenyou and forgotten about it. “

He paused before continuing, “Are you unhappy… with me? Withthis marriage?”

“NO!” I shot back before he could go any further. “Justwatching the couple tonight bought everything up. I don’t know if it’s thestress of medical school plus you’ve been busy. I feel like we are just comingand going from each other’s lives lately. I just feel so disconnected from you,from everything.”

“Come here” as he pulled me in for a Mahid wala hug,reserved just for me.

I could never not feel safe, protected and loved in thesearms.

The next day as we are getting ready for the nikaah, henotices me struggling with the clasp of my necklace. He puts his hands overmine to guide them to the clasp. I slip my hands out his; he leans close, hisface nearly next to mine to close the clasp. Our eyes meet in the dresser’smirror, and I can see his smirk. I can feel his lips on my neck as he kisses myit; I lean my head back against his to give him more access. “We are going tobe late,” I barely mutter out. He continued his assault; I pull away and turnto face him; grab his collar and pull him a hair’s breadth away from my face. Iput my lips on his before he can react; I break the kiss and walk away saying,“we are going to be late.”

The nikah ceremony was lovely. The bride and her friends hadmade me an honorary member of their girl gang. During the rukhsati, I couldn’tspot Mahid in the crowd. The tears flowed freely from my eyes; happy for thenew couple starting a new life. But the tears also burned as I remembered my rukhsatior lack thereof. I quickly put the thought aside, no need to dwell on the pastthat gave me my current beautiful present and future. The crowd had begun todisperse after the farewell. I tried to find Mahid in the thinning crowd but noluck. He might be waiting in the car. I pulled out my phone to call him; justthen I received a message from him.

“Waiting for you inside the main nikah room.”

As I approached the door, I saw him walking towards me. Thereis hardly anyone in the room except two sets of couples and the Kazi who hadofficiated the wedding earlier. As he guided me toward the center of the room,I asked, “Are we bearing witness?” in a hushed voice.

He said nothing and we kept moving. Something was off; Icould feel it in my bones; he has picked up way too many of my khurafatihabits. I’m glaring at him to explain as we keep walking.

He just leans in and whispers, “we are getting marriedagain! Well renewing our vows technically right now.”

I look at him completely dumbfounded but before I could sayanything; the two women are escorting me to the female section. One put whiteroses in my hair while the other guided me to sit. I look up and see Mahid issitting on the other side of the veiled divider, now wearing a sehra.

And just like 5 years ago, he asks if I am okay with aslight raise of his chin and his eyes. I nodded yes but wondered what the Kazithinks of this.

It all feels surreal, like an out of body experience. I tooka deep breath. Either this is insane or the sweetest thing in the world. BeforeI could come to a conclusion, the Kazi saab had started the nikah.

“With the witnesses present, the nikah has been set betweenSeher Parvez Baig and Mahid Adnan Niyazi with 21 lakh mahr.

Seher, Daughter of Parvez Baig – Do you accept thismarriage?

Seher – Qubool Hai! Qubool Hai! Qubool Hai!

Mahid – Son of the deceased Adnan Niyazi, do you accept thismarriage with Seher, daughter of Parvez Baig with 21 lakh mahr?

Mahid – Qubool Hai! Qubool Hai! I accept this marriage.Qubool Hai!

“The marriage is official. May Allah bless this marriage andthis couple”, the Kazi concluded.

The Kazi blessed us and the witnesses congratulated usbefore leaving. For the entirety of the ceremony our eyes were locked with eachother.

Before we walked out, I took his hand in mine, looked intohis eyes as tears brimmed in mine, “Thank you!” was all I could say.

There were no words adequate enough, to explain the depth ofmy feelings. We don’t have secrets; hehas known the truths about that night for some time; yet he did this, so Ididn’t have any guilt. His kind of love is rare, and I am so glad it’s mine. Hewould move heavens to see me happy.

We celebrated with pizza and ice cream on our way home.

Mahid’s POV

We arrive back to the haveli and I ask Seher to wait in thecar.

“Who asks their new bride to wait in the car?” I heard hermuttering with a smile that could light up the night sky.

I unlock the house and go back to get my “new bride.” At thedoor I offer her a piece of chocolate to officially welcome her home.

“I know the first time it wasn’t a real welcome; it'sprobably not proper or per rituals but I never want you to feel like NiyaziManzil or this haveli isn’t your home.”

“Thank you!” she said as she walked in. “Going to thekitchen to get some water, want anything?” she asked as she disappeared.

I deposit Seher’s earrings on the dressing table from mypocket. The heavier they are the quicker they end up on the dashboard. Shewalks in, water bottle under her arm, dupatta trailing behind her and fussingwith taking off her necklace; her plait undone hair flying; looking every bitthe Husna-e-Malika of my heart that she is.

“Mahid! Stop staring and help,” she ordered.

I have every right to stare especially after this evening,”I quip as I move to help her.

“Dori too. I think it’s knotted,” she says.

“Anything else?” I asked cheekily.

In true Seher style, she whips around, grabs me by thecollar, “may be” she said with a raised eyebrow.

I pulled her back as she tried to escape to the bathroom. Wespent that night showing each other just how deeply we cared. Early nextmorning, I noticed she was sitting up in bed. She had gotten into a weird sleeppattern, getting up early and staying up late to study. She must have noticedmy movement.

“Go back to sleep, it’s way too early.” She said as shestroked my hair.

A few hours later, I could smell tea as I entered the diningarea, her books spread all over the table. I kissed her on the head, “Goodmorning and Happy 5th Anniversary!” I wished as I sat down in frontof her.

She leaned in and gave me a peck on the lips, “Happy 5thAnniversary, Mahid!” she beamed. “Tea?” she asked as she packed away her books.

“What do you want as your gift?” I asked and her eyes litup.

She straightened up and extended her hand, “I want a promiseor.. three.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, 5 years and anytime I ask her orshe asks me; it’s always a promise; no material things. I nodded for her tocontinue.

“Can we stay here a few more days? I know we said we wouldgo back tomorrow but a few more days would be nice.” I put my hand on top ofhers to confirm.

“Next” I said.

“Can we celebrate our anniversaries her every year? I knowit wasn’t supposed to, but this place has become special to me.”

I put my hand on hersagain and ask her, “what’s the last one?”

She puts her on hand on mine, “Always be happy, carefree andjoyous as you are when we are here. I love the cheeky, naughty and fun side ofyou that gets buried in the stress of life in Lucknow. I don’t want you to losethat version of yourself.”

I put my other hand on hers, “I will try my best on the lastone, hopefully some of that version you can see behind our closed door.” Iwinked.

We both burst out laughing.

“Ohh! One more thing. Thank you for taking such good care ofmy sapno ki potli.” She said her smile reaching her eyes. My puzzled look madeher elaborate. “When we got married 5 years ago, when I had initially decidedthis was my new life now before Ammi came and all of that… I gave “bag” holdingmy dreams to you. I was hoping you would keep them safe and make them cometrue. You have helped me achieve a lot of the dreams in that bag so thank you!”

“It was all your hard work and dedication; I just stood upfor what was right. And thank you for showing me what was right,” I told her.

The remaining of our stay was spent the exact same way;enjoying our life together. The mornings were spent outside with a hot cup oftea in the cold winter morning.

The time in between was spent taking walks, watching movies,flying kites; making meals together.

The nights were reserved solely for romance.

For two people who are as different as day and night,distance was natural; but I thank Allah every day for putting her in my path.She is my calm in the storm; the light in and of my life; the woman for whom myheart learned to beat again.

Befizul hai yeh raabta

Hum the zameen who aasman

Faasley to laazmi the

Itne juda hoke bhi kaise hone lage hum ek jahaan

From Never to Five Years to FOREVER!