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I have no rights/claims on QH. This is just a story inspired by an awesome show. Please comment - it's always nice to get some feedback from readers.
Rashid sat on the diwan in his study and stared at Dilshad's picture for a long time wondering as he always did, if there was any vestige of love left for him in her heart. He kept the picture hidden from everyone because hell would break loose otherwise.
1984...
2013...
His eyes glistened with unshed tears. She was still as beloved and beautiful to him now as she had been the moment he had set eyes on her, but it was too late. She would never understand him again. She would never forgive him, and he could not blame her for that.
His life was always unraveling in one way or another, he thought wearily. Every few days there was some drama, some calamity, some heartache. Today was no different.
It was at his worst moments that Rashid remembered Dilshad. It was those memories that helped him get through a crisis with some semblance of dignity and sanity.
Life had played a cruel hand and had won.
Rashid had not been fatalistic before but now he knew differently: fate had made him commit the worst mistake of his life, a mistake that had had irredeemable consequences, a mistake that had annihilated his peace, his happiness and everything that had mattered to him.
His only tie to his past now was his mother. Only she fully knew what he had gone through to make the hardest choice of his life. Only Ammi understood everything and was unwavering in her support.
Rashid took solace in the fact that his five children - all of them - were loving, kind and decent human beings. In spite of the mess that they had to endure through no fault of their own, it was wonderful to see how much Asad's three half-siblings adored their Bhaijaan. It pained him that Najma refused to speak to Nikhat and Noozhat, even though they all went to the same college. But at least Najma had some connection with Ayaan.
If only he could see Ayaan, Nikhat and Noozhat happily settled, away from the unwholesome, noxious environment they grew up in. It was all his fault. His folly. His weakness. His helplessness. He worried about them constantly.
After what happened earlier today, there was nothing left to say. He had already been separated from his two children with Dilshad. Now his other son Ayaan was thrown out, victimized again by an incorrigible sociopath's machinations, and a gullible, insecure, foolish mother.
He was sure this was another conspiracy of massive proportion, orchestrated expertly by Razia Siddiqui.
No matter how hard he tried, Rashid couldn't stop thinking about Asad and Najma. They hated him, but he could never stop loving them. The seventeen years of estrangement had been unbearable, but it nothing compared to the hatred he saw in Asad's eyes.
He derived much solace from his young friend, his soon to be daughter-in-law: Zoya.
Rashid thought of Zoya and smiled. There was something so pure and innocent about her. Seeing her today was a blessing. He was glad he could help her. At least there was one person he could affect positively.
Hearing Zoya's voice on the phone a few minutes ago gave him a little bit of relief from the pain he was feeling, and had been feeling for so long. He had been watching his unhappy son from the terrace when her call him. After the call ended, he gave Ayaan one last long glance and went inside to his study.
Rashid's head was pounding. Unable to control the maelstrom of memories and thoughts, he closed his eyes and thought back to that day thirty-two years ago, and all that had happened afterwards.
1981...
"Rashid, are you attending the fresher dance?" yelled Rahat across the hall. Rahat was Rashid's best friend and cousin. Rashid shrugged, feigning indifference, and pretended to read something on the notice board.
"There are going to be plenty of pretty girls!" Rashid couldn't help it anymore, and grinned back. Rahat would always be Rahat. Endearing, flirtatious, jocular and never, ever serious.
One of his dimpled smiles was enough to melt even the coldest of female hearts. For as long as Rashid could remember, Rahat had always had many girlfriends. Moreover, Rahat had his mother, his grandmother, and all his aunts (including Rashid's mother) wrapped around his finger. This ordinarily would have been annoying except for the fact that Rahat was the best human being Rashid had ever known. It was impossible to be angry at him for anything.
Rashid didn't really feel like going to the fresher dance, but didn't want Rahat to feel bad so he agreed. He didn't believe in sowing oats like Rahat. Rashid had seen the unfaltering love his parents shared and that is what he wanted for himself. He just hadn't met her yet.
The boys got dressed and went to the fresher dance. Rashid and the girl saw each other at almost the exact moment. There was an ethereal quality to her beauty. She was dressed in a blue salwar suit. Her hair hung in an auburn cascade down her back. Rashid couldn't turn away. He knew it was rude to stare, but it was impossible not to - her full lips, dark eyes and glowing skin mesmerized him.
And then she smiled, and he knew his search was over. This was the woman he would spend the rest of his life with.
1984...
For the past three years, Dilshad and Rashid had become the closest of friends, inseparable, sharing their love of music, literature, art and theater. Although she knew they loved each other, he had never come out and said it explicitly. His eyes spoke the depth of his feelings though. Strangely, they had never allowed their relationship to move beyond holding hands - there was something so traditional and respectful about him - but he had held her during her father's funeral while she cried inconsolably, his presence and gentleness soothing the raging grief within. Dilshad's Abbu had died in a car accident three months before graduation, leaving Dilshad and her mother bereft and heartbroken.
It was her birthday today, the first birthday she was celebrating without her Abbu. It was also graduation. She remembered the fresher party three years ago, a wonderful night filled with music, dancing and delicious food. She had been so happy then. Tonight, she did not feel like celebrating - not her birthday nor her graduation. There was another party taking place on campus, but Dilshad decided she didn't want to go. Her wounds were still raw and it took every ounce of strength to put a smile on her face and deal with the world.
She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't hear her mother enter her room.
"What are you doing sitting her in the dark, beta" asked Ammi, gently stroking Dilshad's hair.
"Kuch Nahi, Ammi. Just thinking," replied Dilshad, not wanting her mother to see her sadness.
"You are thinking of your Abbu, na?"
"I miss him Ammi."
"I know meri Jaan. I miss him too. But the last thing he would want is for you to stop living and enjoying your life."
"Please Ammi. Don't ask me to go to the party."
"It is the last time you will see many of your classmates. Just go beta. You don't have to stay out long. You have been indoors far too much these past three months. Do it for me. Go!"
"Ji Ammi," said Dilshad, wondering how she got so lucky to have the most loving, wonderful mother in the world. She hoped one day she could be half as good a mother as her Ammi.
Although many of her friends wore short skirts and dresses, Dilshad always felt more comfortable in Indian clothes. Even if she wore trousers, she alwasy paired it with a Kurti. Today was no different. She decided to wear a salwar suit that her Abbu had gifted her exactly one year ago for her twentieth birthday.
She came out of her bedroom looking lovely and her mother smiled, put some kohl on her to ward off the evil eye and kissed her on the forehead.
"Wait a few minutes. Someone is coming to take you."
"But Ammi, I can go by myself. It isn't dark yet."
"No, wait karo."
A short time later, the doorbell rang. Dilshad looked at her Ammi, who smiled and nodded knowingly. Dilshad opened the door to find Rashid, Rahat and their entire family at the door.
Dilshad smiled uncertainly, not knowing what was happening.
"Happy Birthday!" the whole group shouted gleefully, as they all came in one by one.
The usually perceptive Dilshad had not noticed the her Ammi had set the table with her favorite foods. Now Rashid's big, boisterous, loving family was also bringing many delicious dishes.
Rahat had brought two guitars. He and Rashid played and sang. Rashid and Dilshad snuck shy glances at each other, as their mothers watched happily. They could see what these two children refused to admit publicly.
"Rashid, don't you want to go to the party?" Dilshad asked when she noticed it was 9 PM.
"It is tomorrow, Dilshad - it got postponed. I told your Ammi, and she helped us plan your surprise birthday party."
It was a bittersweet night - Dilshad missed her Abbu every minute but she was moved by the love and care she was given. Rashid's father, a good man but far more reserved than his extroverted, cheerful wife, had taken Dilshad outside on the balcony.
"Beta, I know I cannot take your Abbu's place, but please know that I regard you as my daughter and would be honored if you thought of me as one of your own."
"Uncle, you and Aunty have been so kind to us. I already think of you as my own family," said Dilshad not seeing the twinkle in Rashid's father's eyes.
"I am glad, beta. Chalo, let us go back inside."
"It is time to cut the cake!" said Rahat.
They brought out a gorgeous cake, made lovingly by Rashid's talented mother.
Dilshad blew out the candles and made a wish: "Ya Allah, may you shine your grace and light on all those I love and bless them all with health and happiness," she prayed and looked around at all the joyful faces surrounding her.
"We have another cake," said Rashid's mother after Dilshad had made the first cut.
"Another cake Aunty?" Dilshad smiled.
"Strange," she thought. "Perhaps it is for graduation?"
Rahat came out with another cake.
He placed the cake on the table and Dilshad gasped. On the cake, written in bold lettering, were the words:
MARRY ME
She looked up at the delighted faces of her Ammi (who was clearly in on the plan) and Rashid's family. With tears in her eyes, she looked at Rashid. He took her hand.
"I have wanted to ask you from the moment we met, but I did not know what you would say, and I was afraid it would spoil our friendship. But it is true - in front of the family, I want to tell you that I love you and will always love you. Please make me the happiest man by saying yes."
"Yes," Dilshad whispered, as the rest of the room erupted in cheers and laughter. "Yes, I love you too."
It was the most romantic proposal she had ever imagined.
The elders set the date for the nikah before the end of the month.
"I told Rashid if he did not propose to you tonight, I would!" teased Rahat. "And I know you would have said yes to me!"
Dilshad laughed while Rashid started chasing Rahat around the room.
Later that night, after a long and happy chat with her Ammi, Dilshad lay in her bed and thanked her Abbu for everything he had done for her.
She was marrying the man of her dreams. It was going to be a wonderful life.
1985...
After sixteen excruciating hours of labor, he was finally here on this hot August day. Her golu molu gabdu gabdu baby. Dilshad fell in love with him the moment she saw him. He weighed a solid four and half kilograms, and had a thick mane of dark hair and piercing black eyes. Even moments after his birth she knew he would be gorgeous.
Rashid had wanted to be with her during the delivery but had fainted, big, brave fellow that he was. She laughed at the thought now though at the time she had wanted to kill him! Dilshad's mother-in-law and mother had stayed with her and had gotten her through the ordeal.
Rashid came in with balloons. He sat down next to his wife and held her hand.
"Thank you for giving me the most wonderful gift," he said, his voice cracked with emotion. "This is the second best day of my life."
"The second?" asked an exhausted and now annoyed Dilshad. "What do you mean? Your first best day better be something extraordinary!"
"Getting married to you was the best day of my life. This is a very close second" said Rashid, mollifying Dilshad. He kissed her forehead.
"He looks quite strong-willed, na? He's going to be a handful" said Dilshad.
"He looks strong. Like a king. Like a lion," laughed Rashid.
And suddenly they had a perfect name for their perfect boy: Asad.
1991...
The little boy eagerly looked for his hero from the stage. He could not bear to be separated from his idol. When he saw his Abbu, the child smiled broadly. His two missing front teeth did not prevent Asad from showing his enchanting dimples. Rashid laughed and gave Asad the thumbs up sign.
Asad - soon to be six years old - put his lion mask back on and began roaring and reciting his lines. The audience clapped enthusiastically and little Asad got a standing ovation.
"You were the best lion in the world, son!" said Rashid, after the show, as the boy hurled himself in his father's arms.
"And where is my hug?" teased Dilshad, pretending to be angry. Asad giggled and hugged his ammi.
"I think this calls for a celebration - let us get ice cream," said Rashid, lifting an ecstatic Asad on his shoulders.
They finished their ice creams and as they walked away from the small ice cream parlor, Rashid's eyes locked with a woman. She was standing in the corner, shivering and crying. Rashid nudged Dilshad, who looked at the woman with a puzzled expression.
"We should go talk to her, Rashid."
"I don't know. Perhaps we shouldn't interfere."
"But she seems to be in trouble. What if that was me? How would you feel if I was left all by myself?"
"Fine - but just be careful. You never know what you're getting into."
"Jaan, you are getting cynical in your old age!"
"Oh, so now I'm old, hmmm?"
"Yes," teased Dilshad. My darling husband, you are a seventy-two year old man in a twenty-seven year old body!"
"Very funny! Ghar chalo - I'll show you just how funny I think you are!" whispered Rashid.
Rashid put Asad down. He took his son by one hand and his wife by the other and walked towards the woman.
As he came closer, he noticed that the woman was pretty. She had long curly hair and big eyes. She didn't take his breath away like Dilshad did, but he felt a spark of shame for even noticing another woman's appearance and that too in front of his wife.
"Excuse me, Miss. May we help you? Are you in trouble?" asked Dilshad, her voice full of compassion.
The young woman cried harder.
Dilshad tried again. "Can you tell us your name? I am Dilshad. This is my husband Rashid, and this little one is our son Asad."
The young woman smiled vaguely and spoke.
"Shireen. My name is Shireen."
2013...
Rashid was brought out of his reverie by the sound of crashing glass and screams coming from the bedroom down the hall, the room he shared with his second wife Shireen. He sighed, and went to see what was happening. He didn't hurry as he was in no mood to deal with Shireen right now.
He stood at the threshold of the bedroom door silently taking in the scene before him.
Shireen, still dressed in the bright red salwar suit she was wearing from earlier today, was sobbing uncontrollably. She was knocking down pictures, throwing clothes out of the closet and hurling small decorative items across the room.
He was about to shout "what are you doing?" when he heard a small sob coming from a few feet away. It was his youngest daughter Noozhat.
He saw the tears streaming down her face as she tried desperately to muffle her weeping. Her hand was clamped over her mouth, her long curly hair forming a curtain around her face that was partially turned away from Rashid. She hadn't seen her father but was watching and hearing her mother falling to pieces.
Her nearly seventeen years had been fraught with tension, anxiety and pain far deeper than anyone could have imagined. Noozhat hid her feelings behind her mischief and smile.
It had been a traumatic morning for Noozhat. No, it had been a traumatic week actually. Today was just the culmination of everything that had been going wrong. She had watched in pain as her sister bore the abuse that was being hurled at her. Nikhat baaji's tolerance was beyond belief. Then ammi had kicked out her beloved elder brother this morning and had lashed out at her dadi and abbu.
Where would Ayaan bhaijaan go? What would he do? Her sister's marriage was called off. Her father had been insulted horribly - first by that Shaitan ka Khaala Moti Dayan Haseena, and then by that creep - yes, Noozhat thought angrily and bitterly, he was spineless and heartless and a creep - Imran. She now wondered what Nikhat Baaji saw in Imran. He was nothing but his evil mother's puppet.
As the thoughts and worries pelted her exhausted brain, Noozhat began to shake and cry harder.
Rashid took her by surprise when he hugged her tightly.
"Let it out beta. Tumhara Abbu tumhare paas he. Sab theek ho jayega, Noozhat."
Father and daughter stood there until Noozhat's sobs subsided and she began to calm down. Rashid cupped her sweet face in his hands, and kissed her forehead.
"Jao beta. Ab araam karlo. I will come and check in on you later, hmmm?"
"Ji Abbu," Rashid watched, heartbroken, as his daughter walked away.
He was so engrossed in thinking about Noozhat that he almost forgot about Shireen. That is, until he heard another crash from the bedroom.
He lost all patience and stormed into the room; he grabbed his overwrought wife by the arms, shook her hard and shouted "BAS SHIREEN!"
Shireen was so exhausted from her outburst that she felt like a rag doll when Rashid grabbed her arms. Tears continued to stream down Shireen's face and for a moment Rashid felt pity.
TO BE CONTINUED...
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