AsYa FF: Only in the darkness can you see the stars THREAD #1 - Page 58

so what is going to happen next. ...

how asya going to face this. ...

update
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great update
love the time after the date
asad was so bother he couldnt go
to aadil too funny loved the way zoya
cares for aadil
omg zoya found her dad so nice
continue soon

Hi guys!

I am so happy you ain't gonna discontinue this FF !

looking forward for the update😊

A/N: Hi guys!

As promised, here is an update!

Thank you, again, to whoever is still sticking around to read the story! I will pop in once a while to update the stories!

So, we have the much awaited meeting of Zoya and Ghafoor!

Chapter 13: Daddy's Little Girl

"Yes, he does live here. And you are talking to him right now." He said and crossed his arms across his chest. "How can I help you kids?"

Asad was about to respond but Zoya, surprising both Asad and herself, spoke up before he could say anything.

"A little more than twenty three years ago you had a daughter with a woman named Zainub." Her eyes shone with determined strength and her voice resolute. "You named your daughter Zoya."

"Excuse me?" Ghafoor stood straight now, his eyes narrowing and alert.

"You've been writing to her and hoping to meet her for a while now, but Zainub has always denied you the chance." She continued in the same steady voice, hoping her steely resolve would not betray her.

Ghafoor shifted in a defensive stance and glared at the people at his door, "Look, this is a very sick joke, if you are playing one on me. I don't know who you think you are, but you need to get off my property before - "before he could finish, Zoya continued.

"My name is Zoya Farooqui, um, Zoya Siddiqui, I guess" She said, sounding more confident than she actually felt. Holding out her hand, Zoya looked Ghafoor straight in the eye. "It's nice to finally meet you."

At a loss for words, Ghafoor seemed doubtful of Zoya. He stared at her for a while, and then his face softened. He shook Zoya's hand and held it for a long time. Zoya wondered if it was her eyes that made him realize that she was telling the truth, or something else. She realized that they shared the exact eyes. Whatever it was, Ghafoor seemed too shocked to speak and so was Zoya. It wasn't until Asad put his hand on Zoya's lower back did she break out of her trance and let go of Ghafoor' hand.

"Can we come in? I think we need to have some conversations that would be better inside. "Asad said and chuckled slightly.

"Uh," Ghafoor muttered. He nodded his head and stepped aside, gesturing his hand to welcome them in. "Of course, of course. Please, come in."

He moved to the side and let them enter the threshold. Asad was about to step inside when he noticed that Zoya was still rooted to the spot. If Asad hadn't had his hand on Zoya, gently pushing her inside, Zoya would have stood on the veranda all day. As it was, she stepped through the doorway and immediately, Zoya was awestruck with how the house was nothing like what she had thought it would be, and yet it was everything she had in her mind.

The essence of the house was just like she had always dreamed her home to be like, with a small but elegant crystal chandelier hung in the foyer and a staircase being the first thing to see upon entering the house. The floor was a clean, white tile and the walls were cream.

Zoya's first thought was that the house was very bright. However, even though many aspects of the house told her that Ghafoor had tons of money, other things told her that he was a simple man. Zoya had grown up with people who believed in profligate assets. Her childhood home had always lacked the warmth in the decorum. It had screamed posturing.

The furniture in Ghafoor' home wasn't as pretentious like the furniture she grew up with. The paintings on the wall were all landscapes, and no abstract art with confusing lines and splatters of paint adorned the beige and homey walls of this house. The tables and the couches weren't black, but a rich brown that warmed the house. In fact, the entire place made her feel warm, and Zoya wondered what it would have been like to grow up in a house like this instead of the cold place she never really felt welcome in.

Ghafoor was leading them down a long hallway with pictures hanging on the wall. She saw photos of Ghafoor shaking hands with people who must have held importance. There were some pictures of his travels, but he was wearing professional clothes in all of those. Zoya then realized what the photos had in common - they were all business. Ghafoor had no photos of a family. He had some with friends, but Zoya guessed that they were also his colleagues. She couldn't imagine living a life that had business in the center and everything else revolving around it.

It was a lonely life, she thought. Zoya had spent most of her life alone, as well. Up until recently, Zoya and Ghafoor had something in common.

"Half an hour," Asad whispered in her ear, seeming to think that she needed to be reminded about his promise. Zoya nodded in agreement. She knew he would take her away if she got overwhelmed by what she was sure was going to be a very emotional and poignant exchange.

"We can sit in the living room," Ghafoor said as they approached a vast room with a fireplace, leather couches, and a very large flat screen TV. He then looked over his left shoulder unsurely. "Or we can go to the kitchen, it's up to you."

"The living room is fine," Zoya said.

"Right, okay," He said awkwardly. "I'll be right back."

Once Ghafoor was out of the room, Zoya turned to Asad. "This was a bad idea." She was tempted to bite her nails and bounce her legs, the nervous habits that she had tried very hard to let go off.

Asad pulled her close to him, "Are you serious? You can't think so! Zoya, the way he was looking at you when you told him who you were - it was special. He obviously wants to spend time with you." Asad said, incredulously.

"You got all that from the way he looked at me?" she raised her eyebrows at him.

"And then some," Asad shrugged. He was positive that he had seen a spark of hope and yearning in Ghafoor's eyes.

"That's such bull -" She cut off when Ghafoor came back into the room. He had with him a plate of food in his hand. When she saw what exactly was on the plate, she tilted her head curiously.

"Cookies?"

Ghafoor smiled sheepishly. "I should have asked if you were hungry, and even if you were I wasn't sure what you liked," He set the plate and brushed his hands off on his pants. Gesturing towards the cookies, he said, "You used to love chocolate chip when you were a baby, so I just guessed ..."

"I still do. Chocolate chip is my favorite," Zoya said, touched that he remembered such a detail about her. She smiled tentatively at him.

"Mine, too. Every day after work I would carry you around the house and we'd eat cookies, but then one day ..." Ghafoor sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. His eyes glazed over, and sadness permeated them.

"Should we sit?" Asad again was the one who prompted the two of them.

Zoya was about to sit on the far end of the couch when Asad pulled her closer to the middle. Ghafoor sat in a recliner that was not too far from her, but not too close either. She wished that Asad sat in between them, but instead he sat so she was in the middle. She was guessing he did this so that she would have to face the fact that she was about to talk to her biological father. It was interesting that Asad seemed to know Zoya would not have been so forthcoming and would partially block herself with his body, but it also frustrated her because that's what she wanted to do and now felt so exposed.

There was an awkward silence. Zoya wasn't the only one feeling it because she could see Ghafoor' eyes scanning the ceiling, almost like he was looking for inspiration of what to say. Even Asad could feel the tension, and he gently grazed her hand to show that she needed to relax. She would have preferred it if he just took hold of her hand all together, but she guessed that Asad didn't want to be too affectionate in front of her father.

"So you believe me?" Zoya blurted out, "That I am your daughter, that is."

Ghafoor looked at her straight in the eyes and whispered; "You look just like your mother, but your eyes..." he looked at her with such warmth.

Zoya nodded at him and fidgeted with the hem of her shirt. The room was again filled with silence.

"Well, I guess you could start with you deciding to come here?" Ghafoor asked, this time, him being the first one to break the silence.

Zoya had no idea how to begin her story so she said the first thing that came to her mind, "We went down to your old workplace, and the manager, Mr. Shekhar helped us." Zoya replied.

Ghafoor thought it was very strange of her to track him down, "Oh. But my address was written on my letters. Can you explain further? " he pressed further.

Zoya sighed and thought about it for a moment. Did she really want to explain it all without understanding how everything came to this point and without knowing her parent's story? It would have been confusing and, honestly, she was selfish and wanted her questions answered before his. Zoya felt she deserved it.

"How about we start from the beginning - what happened between you and Ammi?" she said instead of answering his question.

"She didn't tell you what happened?" he asked, confused. "What do you want to know?"

"Anything? Everything. I didn't even know you existed until this past August." Zoya dropped the big bombshell on him.

A small gasp escaped his lips. "Ya Allah ...Wha-? But? Then how ...?" Ghafoor's world reeled.

"I'll explain it all eventually. I just really need to understand what happened." Zoya looked at him, pleadingly.

Ghafoor swallowed, "Uh, okay. I guess I'll start from the, well, beginning. I met your mother when I was nineteen. I went to college with your mother here in Bhopal. We had met on our orientations and had some classes together. Over the years, we developed feelings for each other and we married the day after graduation. You were born about a year later -"

"I was born here?" Zoya interrupted him, her eyes wide.

"Not in this house, of course but if by here you mean Bhopal, then yes," His brow creased as he let her question sink in. "Where did you think you were born?"

How many more lies were out there? Thought Zoya and sighed. "I was raised to believe that I had been in New York my whole life."

"What?" it was Ghafoor's turn to be taken aback.

Zoya could see the pain in Ghafoor' face then - it made her heart ache, too. They were both out of the loop for too long. He then stood and ran a hand through his neat hair.

"Y-you didn't' know you were born here? That you lived here?" he murmured, almost to himself, "And you didn't know that I existed? Ya Allah!" he looked like he was going to be sick.

Zoya and Asad looked at him with concern as he did not speak anything for some moments.

He looked at them and got up from his recliner, "I'll be right back. I just need some air. I just--please..." he left the room in haste. He whispered words like "my daughter, "lies" and "so long" as he left the room.

Zoya could hear the open and close of a door that was soon followed by a thud. She could only guess that he either punched or kicked the wall. Had she realized that this confrontation would be just as painful for him as it was for her, Zoya would have approached this so much differently. Maybe she wouldn't have come at all, and spared him of all the hurt he was going through now. Zoya had hated that moment when she had read the letter and then her mother's letter and had realized that she been lied to for so many years - she didn't want anyone to ever experience that feeling; to experience the betrayal of the people who are supposed to always love you. And yet, here she was, that was exactly what she did.

"Zoya," Asad said, laying a hand on her shoulder. "We don't have to stay. You've been here for half an hour - we can go now."

"I can't. Not now." She put her hand on top of his, "He had to find out eventually. I just hope that it didn't have to hurt so much. You were right, I need to do this."

"Are you sure?" he confirmed.

"Yes", she gave him a resolute nod, "No more secrets."

Asad smiled at her. He internally shook his head what the bizarre situation that was right now. If someone had told Asad a month ago that he would be holding a girl's hand and would be sitting in the living room of that said girl's biological father whom she had just met, while the said father was out, venting his anger at his estranged wife, who appeared to be an impulsive liar; Asad would have probably laughed at the face of the person telling him that.

But, it appears that strange things do happen. Was he is the Twilight Zone? Perhaps.

After waiting for a couple of more minutes, Zoya finally got up.

"I am going to look for him." She told him.

Asad got up as well. He nodded at her, somewhat reluctantly. He knew that Zoya wanted to be with her father; he could tell that she felt his pain; it was her pain as well. And he also knew that this was something that she needed to do on her own.

He leaned forward and pecked her forehead.

"Go, talk to him. I'll be right here, if you need me."

He smiled at her and Zoya smiled back to him, gratefully and moved out the living room, walking in the general direction of where her father had stormed off. Her father, it felt so surreal.

After bumping and walking into various rooms, she finally found her way towards the patio facing the backyard of the house and found Ghafoor Siddiqui standing there, hands splayed on the patio fence and staring ahead at the vast backyard.

Zoya reached over to where he was standing, and stood next to him.

"It looks so serene from here." Zoya commented as she looked over the yard. It really was calm and beautifully maintained.

"Appearances can be deceptive. I often find this lonely. There is nothing." He replied.

Zoya had an inkling that he was not talking about his immaculate backyard. She looked over to him and waited for him to continue; to say something, anything.

Finally, after a long pause, he sighed and said, "I am sorry for bolting out of that room. I was just taken by surprise. I never knew how much you were told about me. But over the years, I had hoped. I had hoped that you knew enough to come to me someday; that you knew enough to make you realize that you had a father somewhere out there who loves you. So much.

"And to find out that you were not even aware of my existence - that was a blow, Zoya." He looked at Zoya with misty eyes.

Zoya struggled with the lump in her throat. "I did not mean to hurt you or cause this reaction. I am sorry, I did not even know how to say or what to say to make this any easier."

Ghafoor shook his head, "You don't have to apologize. You did nothing wrong, meri bacchi. It's your mother who is at fault."

Zoya nodded at him but then frowned.

"Would you tell me about her? About the two of you, I mean. I want to know what happened. Why did she do things that she did? Why did she lie that way she did? Please?" her voice was only a whisper but it conveyed her desperation.

Ghafoor sighed and began, "As I told you, we met at college and were in love. Or I had thought that we were in love. We got married and had you. I was never happier than I was when I held you in my arms. You were the prettiest baby I had ever seen and also so calm. Just such a happy baby. We were happy, Zoya. For a while, we really were very happy and content with what we had in our lives. I had a wife whom I loved and a daughter that I cherished. We had a roof over our heads, food in our kitchen and the bills were being paid - I was content."

"I sense a "but" here." Zoya commented.

"Yes," he nodded, "There always is a "but", isn't there? So yeah, but your mother was not happy, not for long. I used to work at a construction factory at that time, the same one that you got my address from. The pay was not that great but it paid the bills and it was enough for a little family. You mother, however, wanted other things in her life; great and extravagant things. She started picking up fights with me over petty things and often made it crystal clear about how unhappy she was with the life she led.

"I really should have seen it coming, but I did not. And then she presented me with divorce papers. I felt liked someone had pulled the rug from underneath my feet. She took me to court because I did not want to give up on us. I realized it too late that she had given up. She demanded your full custody, pleading that I was not competent enough to take care of you."

"Yo-you didn-n't fight fo-for me?" Zoya's voice stuttered.

"I did. I fought for your, for our family - to the very end," he replied. "The judge decided that a child needs a mother the most, and he said that if the mother of the child thought that the child would be best taken care of if she were with her mother then that was the right thing." he let out a bitter laugh, "Someone had paid him off." He shook his head and continued.

"I found that out later, but by then I could do nothing. She was gone and so were you. I came home to a silent house. There were no sounds of your clumsily feet scampering to greet me, no babbling, no shrieks of delight. It was all gone."

Zoya's tears were flowing down without any signs of every stopping. Ghafoor continued.

"She left me a letter; telling me how she had fallen in love with someone else; someone who had the means to take care of both of you and would give you all that you deserved. And all these years, I believed that she must have felt that he was a better father for you than me."

Zoya scoffed, "Take care? Yeah right! He took such great care of me. " sarcasm dripped from her every word.

Ghafoor looked at her in horror, "Please tell me what I am thinking is wrong."

Zoya closed her eyes. It was her turn to let out some secrets.

"I was raised to believe that I was born in New York and lived there all my life. Ammi told me that our first house had caught fire and with it, all pictures from my early years were lost. I never doubted her; I had no reasons for doubting her. But Aashif Farooqui? He was not a better father. He was not even a good father - he was awful."

Zoya took a deep breath; this was the hard part. "He had a temper, a nasty on and was very easily irked. And I happened to set him off all too often. He did not want me and I had gathered that even when I was still very young. He wanted me gone; he made that very clear. And as the years passed, I was only too willing to oblige to his desire. I do not remember anytime when he did not push me, shoved me or hurled bad words at me. All my life, I believed that I had done something so terrible that my own father hated me. I left that house the moment I turned eighteen."

Ghafoor was clutching the fence too tight, "I am going to kill him."

Zoya continued, "I found out about you by accident. I had gone to the house to grab some things when my eyes caught my name on a letter. A letter from you on my birthday. And then I could not just sit there. So I came here, to look for you."

They looked at each other and the pain was reflected in their eyes. Both of them had yearned for each other for the past twenty-two years. She was about to say something more, when he pulled her into his embrace.

As she wrapped her arms around him, one tear escaped her eye, then two tears did and then it gave way to a trail of tears and sobs.

She had never been embraced by a parent with such protectiveness. Her arms went around him and they stood there trying to ease some of the pain of the past.

"You must think this is weird," Ghafoor murmured, "hugging a man you just met."

"Not weird" she replied, "it feels right; feels like home."

***

They sat there on the patio talking about their lives. He told Zoya how he had worked hard to prove that he was good man; how he had climbed up the ladder of a reputed firm. However, he was always hollow and empty from the inside. The light of his life had been snuffed out when Zainub took her away.

Zoya told him about Zainub's letter, about the few happy memories that she had from her childhood. She told him about her school and college and about Anwar and Zeenat and how they were her family. And then she mentioned the Khan family and how much love they had showered upon her.

"Khan you say? And that boy in there? How does he fit in?" he asked her, gruffly.

"Asad. He is their son. W-we kinda like each other." Zoya had no idea why she was suddenly scared and shy.

Ghafoor stood up, "Well then, I think I need to have a chat with him."

When Zoya groaned, he continued, "Now, Zoya, I have been left out of your entire life and I missed out on all the important milestones of your life. I can at least talk to your boyfriend."

"We haven't really defined it yet" she mumbled. "Please don't embarrass me?" she added in a small voice.

Ghafoor threw his head back and laughed, "Now, what kind of a father would I be if I did not do that? Putting the fear of God in your daughter's boyfriends comes with dad's job description."

You're the end of the rainbow, my pot of gold,
You're daddy's little girl to have and to hold.

- Daddy's Little Girl by Michael Buble

A/N:

That was the meeting! Let me know if it was anything like you expected!

Thoughts on Zainub?

Cheers,

Simi

res

OMG that was seriously amazing !