"Phoopi, yeh aap, kya bol rahi hain," Zoya asked incredulous. She felt her lips curve up into a smile. And before she knew it she was in splits. Dilshad and Najma both looked at her, baffled and exchanged confused glances.
Zoya clutched her stomach, trying to keep her balance as she laughed hysterically. Mr. Khan? And leave them? Pulease! Her eyes watered as she watched the two women in front her stare at her with dumbfounded looks on their faces. That only made her laugh harder.
"Zoya? Tumhe itni hassi kyun aa rahi hain?" asked a worried Dilshad. Najma nodded in Zoya's direction, agreeing with her Ammi's concern.
"Phoopi," Zoya tried, "Mr. Khan, aur aapko akele chodna?" She laughed harder. "Yeh possible hi nahin hai! Yeh kaise behuda mazaak hai, Tamatar?" she tried again between guffaws. Dilshad and Najma looked at each and smiled sadly. It seemed Zoya hadn't realized, just how much their Akdu had changed.
Dilshad got up off the bed and moved towards Zoya. She put her hands on Zoya's shoulders and made her look at her. She cupped her face and waited for her to stop laughing. Zoya noticed the seriousness in Dilshad's eyes and her laughter slowly died down.
"Zoya, yeh kisi bhi tarah ka mazaak nahin hai. Asad wakai chala gaya hai. Aur hum dono wakai yahan kuch aur din rehne wale hain. Tumhare saath," Dilshad explained, her voice calm and very even. But her eyes betrayed her, moistening. Zoya stared at them both for a while, before realization dawned on her. Her eyes widened and she took a step back, out of Dilshad's reach.
"Lekin, Phoopi, aise, aise kaise ho sakhta hai. I mean, Mr. Khan aap dono ko, aise kyun chorenge...?" she asked, trailing off at the last word. They are his life. He couldn't leave them alone. Could he?
"Iss ki ek wajah hai, Zoya. Asad ne tumhare liye chithi chori thi. Tumne usse parah nahin?" Zoya shook her head, looking down. The letter! She looked at them both again, took a step backwards and turned on her heels, running to her room.
Flying up the stairs, she flew into her room and looked around with her eyes. Where did I leave it? Her head snapping in every direction, she frantically searched for it. The nighstand, the bed, the wardrobe, the dresser, the door... Wait! The dresser! Spotting the letter she grabbed it and plopped herself on the bed.
Hurriedly ripping open the envelop, she took out the letter it held, opening it up.
Zoya,
Mein aapse maafi mangna chaha tha hoon. Meine aapko bohot hi awkward position mein dala hai. Lekin kya karoon, aapko rulana meri purani adaat hai.
Dukh iss baat ka bhi hai, ki jis din meine aap par bharosa karna sikha tha, ussi din, aapke bardash karne ki had paar hui thi. Mein nahin kahoonga, ki aapko yeh maan lena chaiye, ki mujhe aap par pura bharosa hai. Mein sirf itna kahoonga, ki mein aapki soch ko samaj sakh tha hoon.
Lekin meri mohabbat rehi gi. Mein aapse saachi mohabbat karta hoon. Aur apni akhri saans tak karta rahoonga.
Mein jaanta hoon, aapne nikaah ke liye inkaar kyun kiya. Mein samaj sakh tha hoon. Aur mein zindagi bhar, uss din ka intezaar karoonga, jab aap mujhe nikaah ke liye haan karengi. Chahe woh din kabhi bhi, na aaye.
I love you, Zoya. Meine kabhi nahin socha tha, mein kisi bhi ladki se itni mohabbat karoonga. Lekin aisa hua hai. Aapse.
Mein wapas India jaa raha hoon. Lekin akela. Ammi aur Najma baad mein aaengi. Mein jaan tha hoon, aapke visa ke saath problem hai. Aur issi liye, mein chaha tha hoon, aap sab ek doosre ke saath jitna waqt ho sake, guzar le.
Humesha aapka,
Asad
Zoya read the letter several times. He left? Alone? He left Phoopi with me? And Najma? She paced around the room, burning holes into the floor. How could he leave them alone? In a strange city? Yes, Aapi and Jeeju were there, and yes they liked it here. But how could Akdu Ahmed Khan, to whom his Ammi and Tamatar are his life, leave them to come on their own?
Her head was spinning. Every time he said he loved her, she felt her stomach do and involuntary flip. Her heart skipped a beat. Why? Why did that fact that he loved her, that he was so deeply affected by her, make her so, happy?
She sighed, unable to understand how he was able to leave them. For her? So she could spend time with her? It made sense, since no one else knew her visa was in fact renewed. But the fact that he would leave them in her care, baffled her. He didn't trust her. She was a musibat. A musibat magnet for him. So then how? How was he able to leave them with her so easily?
She took the letter down with her and went to Dilshad's room again. Maybe Dilshad could demesne the riddle that was her frustratingly contradictory son.
**********
Down the elevator went a defeated and disillusioned Asad Ahmed Khan. The elevator brought a smile to his face. A small, faint smile, very typical of his style. Our first kiss. He reminisced about how he pecked her cheek for the first time. How he could swear there was a slight flicker of a spark in her eyes after his lips had brushed her cheek.
He was still certain she might feel for him, what he felt for her. But he'd been rough with her, misjudged and misunderstood her one too many times. He would do that no longer. If she loved him, he was sure she would make it known to him. But he held little, to no hope. It was bad, he knew. But trust, as Zoya said, is the foundation of a relationship. And if she thought he didn't trust her, theirs never had a shot in hell.
The only thing that truly pained him, was that she never got a chance to see, just how much he came to trust her. He could only hope she managed to make as many happy memories with his Ammi and Najma as possible in the next few days, to last her for a lifetime.
He had other ideas in mind as well, but he pushed the thought aside. The only thing he could focus on now, was the front door to the building of the place where she called home. He felt another painful stab, as it dawned on him, that his villa would no longer be a home. It would go back to being a house. No laughter, no smiles, no noise and no mess. The tornado that had been Zoya Farooqui, bringing color into their lives, would never be able to come back.
Asad walked slowly, and robotically, to the front of the building and looked back at the closing elevator doors. He closed his eyes, hoping, willing himself to conjure up an image of her, stopping him, telling him she loved him. But as soon as he opened his eyes, he saw the reality.
Zoya would not be stopping him. And he, he had a flight to catch.
**********
"Zoya?" came Anwar's voice from behind her. She stopped just outside of Dilshad's room and turned to see her Jeeju. She smiled weakly at him and looked down.
"Jee Jeeju?" she asked, her voice small and distracted. He noticed the paper in her hands and smiled. Walking up to her he took her free hand and guided her to the sectional in the living room. He sat her down and proceeded to take a seat in front of her, on the coffee table.
"Kya hua meri Zoya ko? Itni pareshaan kyun ho, hm?" he asked, as if he was talking to a little girl. And that's how Zoya looked. She looked like a lost little girl, who had no idea where to go, or what to do.
"Woh, Jeeju, k-kuch nahin," she said, looking everywhere but at his eyes. Her Jeeju always knew when she was lying. It was very hard for her to hide anything from him. Allah jaane how she was able to keep the visa truth from him. But this? She wasn't sure she could hide her disappointment about this from anyone.
"Zoya, batao. Kya baat hai?" he asked again. She shook her head quietly, and he sighed. Looks like I'll have to be blunt, Anwar thought, a little annoyed at his free spirited sister-in-law.
"Zoya, tumhe Asad ke jaane se, taqleef ho rahi hai. Hai na?" he asked her point blank. Zoya's eyes shot up, shock masking them completely. How did he know? Anwar smiled sympathetically at her and took one of her hands, taking the letter from her and putting on the table, next to him.
"Dekho Zoya, mein tumse pehle bhi keh chuka hoon. Lekin tum maane ko tayaar hi nahin thi." Zoya tilted her head, looking at him curiously. He chuckled. "Zoya, tum Asad se mohabbat karti ho."
Tum Asad se mohabbat karti ho...
You know that feeling when all the pieces of the puzzles suddenly fit? When everything you were once confused about becomes as clear as a glass of water? When you get that feeling in your gut, in the pit of your stomach that everything, every single thing in your life, makes sense?
That's what Zoya felt in that instant. It all added up. Why she cared about his opinion of her so much. Why his mere presence sent her heart in an erratic rhythm. Why his taunts affected her so much, and the slightest apology made her feel lighter instantly. She realized why her friends calling him her boyfriend made her stomach flutter with butterflies. Even her friends had seen it. And yet she was so blind. That was the reason all along. Why teasing him gave her so much pleasure. Why every time she would fall, she knew, some how, some way, he would always be there to catch her. Why his proposal made her elated, why his confession made her cry tears of joy.
Zoya Farooqui was in love.
Zoya smiled, as she felt tears stream down her face. She was in love. She loved him. That's why it hurt her to see him leave. That's why it hurt her to reject him. That's why it hurt her, that he didn't trust her. And just like that, her smile disappeared. She looked at her hands, and felt more tears well up in her eyes.
"Aap, aap, theek keh rahe hain, Jeeju," she agreed, her voice watery. "Lekin, Mr. Khan, woh," her voice cracked and she looked up at her brother-in-law, "who mujh par, bharosa nahin karte hain," she said sadly, another tear streaming down her flushed cheek. Anwar wipped it away before cupping his sister-in-law's face gently.
"Zoya," he began, smiling at the silly girl in front of him. "Tum sach much pagal ho," he said, chuckling. She looked at him curiously and tilted her head, questioning him. He smiled at her. "Agar woh tum par bharosa nahin karta Zoya, agar usse tum par zara sa bhi yakeen nahin hota, toh kya woh apni sabse badi amanat tumhare haathon mein chor keh jaata?"
Zoya blinked, still unsure what he meant. Anwar sighed, and shook his head.
"Pagli, tum hi kehti ho, ki Dilshad bi aur Najma Asad ki jaan hain. Woh unko kabhi bhi apni nazar se hatne nahin deta." Zoya nodded in agreement, still confused. "Toh phir tum hi socho. Yeh jaante hue, ke tum India wapas nahin jaa sakti," Zoya looked down, feeling guilty, "usne apni amanat, tumhare haathon saup di."
...Ammi aur Najma baad mein aaengi...
...aur issi liye, mein chaha tha hoon, aap sab ek doosre ke saath jitna waqt ho sake, guzar le...
Zoya's eyes widened. He left them, in her care. He let them stay back, for her. He trusted me, with them. He trusts me, he really trusts me. She felt herself smile again and look at Anwar gratefully. But her smile soon turned into a frown and she felt her eyes well up with a new set of waterworks.
"Jeeju, yeh, yeh meine kya kiya," she cried, her head hung low. Anwar cupped her face again and wiped her tears with his thumbs.
"Zoya, abhi bhi kuch nahi bigra hai," he soothed, Zoya's hands flying to cover his on her face. "Aur waise bhi. Tum toh Zoya Farooqui ho. Aur Zoya Farooqui," he began, smiling at her.
"Koi bhi kaam kar sakti hai," Zoya finished for him, smiling through her tears again. "Thank you, Jeeju. Agar aap nahin hote, toh mein yeh baat kabhi bhi nahin samaj thi." Anwar smiled at her and kissed her on the forehead. But Zoya thought of something.
"Jeeju?" she asked.
"Bolo Zoya?" he replied, curious.
"Lekin, aapko kaise pata tha, ki Mr. Khan ne Phupi aur Najma ko yahan chor kar jaa rahe the?" she wondered. She hadn't told him. As far as she knew, he hadn't read the letter. So then...?
Anwar looked down, and smiled back at her.
Flashback
"Jeeju?" came Asad's stoic voice from behind Anwar.
"Asad? Bolo. Jya baat hai?" he asked, concerned. Asad seemed distraught, and even more, disheveled than that. He knew the reason why, but he still found it odd, that he was coming to him. What could it be about?
"Mein, mujhe, India wapas jaana hai. Kuch kaam ke liye. Lekin, mein jaanta hoon, Ms. Farooqui... I mean Zoya, wapas nahin aa sakti hai, toh..." he trailed off, shifting uncomfortably. The thought alone of Zoya not going back to India with him, cause his heart to constrict. "Mujhe laga, ke Ammi aur Najma, I mean, woh dono thode din aur reh sakh the hain, agar aapke liye zyaada taqlif na ho, toh."
Anwar looked at him, baffled, but recovered quickly. He truly loved Zoya. And trusted her enough to leave them with her. He put a hand on Asad's shoulder and smiled sadly at him. "Asad, Dilshad bi, Najma aur tum hamare ghar mein hamesha welcome ho. Always, lekin, tumne unne akhele kabhi choda nahin. Toh mein ek kaam kartha hoon. On the way back, I'll drop them to you. Takki tumhe tassali ho. How's that?" he suggested to Asad.
Asad smiled weakly at him and thanked him. Turning around to get his things, he felt Anwar stop him. "Asad," he heard him call.
"Jee?"
"Kya tumhe waqai jaana hai? I mean, kya tumhara jaana itna zaroori hai?" Anwar asked, earnestly. Asad hung his head low, and sighed, smiling sadly again.
"Jee, Jeeju. Iss waqt, mera India jaana hi theek rahega," he assured him. And with that, quietly made his way to Dilshad and Najma's room, to say his goodbyes.
Flashback ends
"Allah miya..." Zoya whispered. "Mr. Khan ne, mere kathir, I mean," she tried. This man would be the death of her. Not only did he trust her, but he also respected her. And she thought... She shook the thought, and looked back at her Jeeju, who was smiling sheepishly at her. If anyone should be sheepish, it should be her.
For the first time, she was glad she hadn't told anyone about the visa. If she had, and they had tried to convince her to go with Asad, she would've refused, and perhaps never been able to realize, her feelings for him, or that he did in fact, trust her.
"Jao, Zoya, apne pyaar ka izhaar karlo," Anwar encouraged, smiling broadly at her. She beamed back at him, wiping her remaining tears, and thanked him again. Getting up from the couch, she grabbed her Mr. Khan's letter and held it close to her chest, smiling bigger.
"Mein aa rahi hoon, Mr. Khan. Aapki Zoya aapko rok kar hi rahi gi."
**********
Asad hailed a cab from the front door of the Farooqui's building, stuffing his suitcase and himself into the first cab that stopped for him. He looked up at the building from the cab window, as the door closed and the car started to pull away.
Around the same time, the doors to the elevator spread open to reveal a frantic Zoya, running to the front of the building. She turned left and right, hoping he'd walked up the block to find a cab, but found nothing.
"Derek?" she called the bellman.
"Yes, ma'am? How may I help you?" he offered politely.
"Did you see a well built man, the one who is staying with us, walk out recently? Did he try to catch a cab?" she asked, her breathing ragged from the sprinting and panic.
"Yes, actually. He just got into a cab, I hailed it for him myself," Derek informed her, smiling. Zoya's eyes widened and she thanked Allah she'd grabbed her sling purse on the way out of the apartment.
"Taxi!" Zoya called out, after whistling with her fingers. Derek shook his head at Zoya, already accustomed to her antics. She waved at him, thanking him for the information and piled into the first cab that stopped on the curb.
She prayed to Allah that she was in time to stop him.
**********
At John F. Kennedy Airport, Asad paid the cab driver and, sighing dejectedly, made his way through the automatic doors. His suitcase on wheels, he held his passport in one hand, his hand bag and jacket on the other. Walking to the counter, he greeted the attendant, and handed him his passport, and his itinerary. Once he was checked in, he looked at his watch. Still two hours until he had to board his flight. Looking at the long line for security, he decided to join in, not wanting to risk it getting any longer.
**********
Zoya scrambled to find enough cash in her small swing-across purse and basically threw it at the driver, apologizing in the process. Once she was out of the cab, she looked around, before running in through the automatic doors. She turned her head, left and right, scanning every inch of the check-in booths, and the passengers, hoping, praying that one of them turned out to be Mr. Khan.
She ran up to each counter, asking about Asad Ahmed Khan, but got nothing. No one would give her any information. Finally she decided to take a different approach. She approached a male attendant and, in her slightly distraught state, started asking him about Mr. Khan. But differently.
"Excuse me? Sir? Have you seen my husband anywhere? I was supposed to meet him here at the airport, but I lost track of time, and he's taking a flight to India," she explained, her voice small. The attendant gave Zoya a once over, and nodded.
"I may have ma'am, what did he look like?" the attendant offered. Zoya smiled lightly.
"His name is Asad Ahmed Khan. He's a little taller than me and well built, and he was wearing a white sports jacket and black jeans. Have you seen him?" she asked again, explaining just how hot Mr. Khan looked. Hot? Allah miya, Zoya! Whats wrong with you! Now is not the time to think about Mr. Khan's six packs! She shook her head slightly and looked back at the confused attendant, smiling sheepishly.
He chuckled at her and shook his own head. "Ma'am I am not allowed to give out personal information, I apologize." Zoya's face fell visibly, and he instantly felt bad for her. "But I did just check in a gentleman with that description about ten minutes ago. I'm sure he's still in security," he explained, hoping it would help her.
She beamed at him, thanking him profusely and sprinted all the way to the back of the security line. She poked her head above the other passengers in line and tried to spot her Mr. Khan.
Allah miya, yeh Mr. Khan kahan hai! Roz he towers over me and now when I need to see him, he's hiding, she thought, panicking. She noticed a perfectly coiffed gentleman take his white jacket off, and she felt her heart soar.
Mr. Khan...
**********
Asad took off his sports jacket, and took out his laptop from his hand bag, placing them in individual bins on the conveyor belt. Taking off his watch, and shoes, he added them to the bin with his jacket, not caring about his OCD, yet again. He was so distracted by his thoughts of Zoya that he could swear he's heard her call his name.
He smiled ruefully. Wishful thinking, Asad miyan. Kash woh humein rok ne aati.
**********
"Mr. Khan! Mr. Khan! Mr. Khan, please! Mein yahan hoon, Mr. Khan!" Zoya bellowed at the top of her lungs. A security officer came to her and grabbed her by the arm. She tried to free herself of his grasp, but his grip was firm, like Asad's and he dragged away, towards the airport exit.
"Listen miss, this is an airport, you cannot yell at the top of your lungs like this, understood?" he said, patronizing her. Zoya looked at him incredulously, before bursting into tears.
"You inconsiderate Neanderthal! That was my fiance! I had to stop him! And now because of you, he's gone!" she cried, sinking to the floor. The guard looked around and realized she was creating yet another scene. But her tears melted him, and he instantly felt like a doorknob.
"Miss, I, I'm so very sorry. Would you like to go back, and see if he's still there?" he offered, trying to help. Zoya shook her head, and cried harder.
"He was, he, was in the front of the line. He, he'll be long gone now," she hiccuped. All color drained from the man's face and he tried to help her to her feet. Too distraught and defeated to fight him, she let him help her, and stood up, her hands on her face.
She turned around and walked out of the automatic doors, defeated, hopeless and most of all, remorseful. He left, he left her alone. How could he? Did he not hear her? Was she not loud enough? Or maybe, maybe he didn't want to hear her? Her mind was a mess, running thoughts from blame to self-pity. She took out her cellphone and frantically looked through her contacts list.
She tried Asad's number several times, muttering incoherently in frustration every time it went straight to voicemail. "Ugh! Mr. Khan! Phone uthaiye!" she ordered, as if he could hear her. Getting no response there, again, she started to panic. If he left like that, he'll think she doesn't love him, that he was right to leave. No, no, no!
Zoya looked through her contacts again, and dialed a new number.
"Hello?"
"Neeru?" she cried, a new set of waterworks surfacing as she heard her best friend's voice.
"Zoya? Kya hua? Zoya are you okay? Look don't think, just come over okay? Come now," Neeru ordered, worry masking her voice. What happened? she wondered to herself. Zoya nodded and cut the call, hailing yet another cab. She wiped her tears, not wanting the driver to see her cry, and remained quiet the rest of the way to Neeru's.
**********
Asad looked at his phone, and decided to leave it off. He didn't feel like checking emails, or getting calls from his employees. The only person's voice his ears yearned for, would not call him, he was sure. So why torture himself more?
He sat down in the lounge for VIPs, placing his belongings on the seat next to him. Sighing heavily, he took out his laptop, with the pretext of getting some work done. But his recent screen saver, of Zoya, made that impossible. The picture, was one he'd found on Najma's phone after Holi. She looked ethereal, despite the color and the wet hair. Her doe eyes sparkled with the same spark he'd seen in the elevator. It was a picture of both of them. And even though he'd denied it to no end, back then, it was crystal clear in that picture, that he was totally and irrevocably enthralled by her.
Asad caressed the picture on his screen, the side displaying Zoya's red cheek right after he'd put color on it, and smiled sadly. He was saying goodbye to his angel. He'd never thought an angel could change him in such a chaotic way, but change him she had. And for that he would forever be grateful, and love her.
**********
"He what!?"
Zoya nodded, as Neeru yelled at her in shock. She quickly regretted her tone, seeing Zoya distraught. She sat back down onto the couch and placed her hand on her friend's.
"You were right Neeru, I, I love him," she cried. "Mein usse mohabbat karti hoon. Mein kya, kya karoon," Zoya sobbed, looking down, the tears falling from her chin.
"Zoya, tum to Zoya Farooqui ho. Tum itni asaani se haar mano gi?" Zoya looked up at her curiously. "Woh tumhare liye aaya tha. New York tak. Sab kuch chor chaan ke. Ab tum hi socho. Agar Zoya Farooqui kisi ko rokna chaati hai, toh woh yeh kaam kaise karegi?" Neeru asked her. Zoya was still mystified, though she was smiling.
"Arre Zoya! Apne dimaag ka istemaal karo! Ayi baat samaj mein, ab?" Neeru exclaimed, a tad frustrated but amused at her best friend. She was clearly in love. All her smarts had momentarily gone out the window. Zoya's eyes widened considerably and she smiled, nodding at Neeru.
A/N:
Do leave some love š³ That is if you haven't deserted this FF cause of my unexpected sabbatical yet again
OH! And next update will be on the weekend, God willing š This FF will be soon coming to a close, and therefore, I will try to have it done before my classes start again on the 6th.
Thank you all for being so patient with me! I know I tend to disappear š
š¤
Mannat Har Khushi Paane Ki
Arjun
Cricket
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