AsYa FF ~ Mere Jazbaat ~ T#1 ~ Link to T#2 Page 1! - Page 22

Zoya's eyes flew open. Mr. Khan? Mujhe Mr. Khan ki awas kyun sunhai deh rahi hai?

She looked around and yet again it dawned on her, that she was in a strange place. Reality set in. She'd been dreaming. No. More like reminiscing, the day of the bus accident. When all she could hear as she walked away, dejected and broken, was his voice, calling out her name, in agony.

A lone tear made it's way from her eye to her cheek, as she chided herself for letting him intrude her unconscious thoughts again.

"Ms. Zoya?"

Zoya's ears perked up. She wiped the tear away and turned to see Mr. Bhatawdhekar behind her.

"Are you ready" asked Mr. Bhatawdekhar. He'd seen her a few minutes ago, but didn't want to wake her up. On second thought, he wasn't sure what he saw. She was peacefully sleeping one second, and the next moment she was turning her head from side to side, as if having a nightmare. Thankfully she'd awakened before he'd done anything. But seeing her this perturbed and restless made him uneasy. Was this victory really worth this girl's current agony? She's leaving willingly, but it doesn't seem like she actually WANTS to leave.

His thoughts were interrupted by Zoya's voice. "Mr. Dhurandar," she began, not wanting to butcher his name first thing in the morning, "aap agay. Acha hai. Chale?"

"Uh, haan, chaliye," he answered, distracted. Something happened, I'm sure. They looked so in love. The way he described their first meeting. My eyes never lie. But then... why? Is this victory worth this girl's agony? She may say she wants to leave, but her eyes say otherwise. They seem tell the world that she has no choice.

Zoya followed Mr. Bhatawdekar to his car. It was a typical Indian police car, all white with a red siren on the hood. The color of the car made Zoya mentally cringe, as she saw flashes of her dream from the night before. It was just a dream, she quietly reassured herself. But of course, the truth was that only the setting was a dream. The words in it were painfully real.

She slowly made her way to the car, while the driver took her suitcase from her and put it in the trunk. Zoya slid into the backseat, as Mr. Bhatawdekhar came in from the opposite side. He might still come, her heart naively hoped. No, her brain retaliated, he won't. He doesn't care, and I can't keep hoping he will. He's emotionally challenged. And always will be.

Another tear threatened to fall from her eyes, but she closed and rubbed them, feigning an itch, just in time.

Mr. Bhatawdekhar was watching her intently, and had seen her eyes get moist. I need to do something. She still has to leave, but... maybe... He smiled to himself.

The car's engine started and it speedily drew Zoya closer to her fate: Leaving the Khan family behind.

* * * * * * *

Asad was typing furiously on his laptop, trying to focus on his work. But who was he kidding? The only thing on his mind was Zoya, and her last words. He rolled his eyes in frustration and rubbed his forehead, his signature move. When he looked at the screen again, he blinked hard. All his angry typing was one thing: Zoya. In his blind rage he had typed her name multiple times, dozens of times.

He shut the laptop, chiding himself. He lay his head against the pillows of the lounger, closing his eyes. He saw rain. Rain drops falling incessantly all around him. All around them. All around her. He saw her angelic face come near his, he saw himself caressing her chin, her lips, and looking deep into each others' eyes.

Asad's eyes snapped open. Why can't I stop thinking about her? Yes, there's an attraction there, but that's all it was! Physical! Again his heart cried. It was more than that, and you know it.

Maybe it was more than that, thought Asad. But then, why did she not leave me a note, or anything? If I meant something to her... Listening to his heart one more time, he decided to try looking in the living room again. He propped his room door open just a bit, checking to see if his ammi or Tamatar were anywhere in sight. Relieved at seeing an empty room, he opened the door further, and took a few steps into the heart of the house.

His eyes scanned the kitchen, then the area in front of his room, his door (in case she taped something to it, she's quite capable) and the living room. His eyes did a double take as he noticed something on the coffee table. A CD.

He walked over to the table, and picked up the pink CD cover. It smelled of her. He read her handwriting. For Asad Ahmed Khan. He felt another thorn, as the words were lacking any emotion. But maybe, it's like the videos Najma gave her when she was leaving, a few days ago.

Curiosity getting the best of him, he took the CD to his room and slipped it into the reader on his laptop.

Zoya's face came onto the screen. "Hi Mr. Khan!" she said vivaciously. Her bubbly demeanor gave his heart more pain... this can't be the same Zoya from last night. That Zoya was cold, disconnected and serious. This Zoya, this bubbly, silly and bright person was the Zoya he lo- liked to see. Despite this mental comparison, he kept watching silently.

"Mr. Khan I know ki aapko jo mein batane wali hoon, aapko thoda sa uncomforable feel karaiga. Aur aap mujhse naraaz bhi honge. Lekin mein aapko yu tarapte we nahin dekh sakhti. Meine Ayaan ke sagaai mein cameras lagain hain. Taki aap uski sagaai dekh sake. This way you don't have to come here, but you can still see your brother get engaged." She smiled, and after about 5 seconds, the screen turned black and switched to the scene of the Siddiqui's mansion, on the day of Ayaan's sagaai.

Asad was watching the sagaai, lost in his brother's grateful eyes upon seeing him through Zoya's iPad. Seeing Ayaan, he remembered. He paused the video and took out his cellphone. He dialed Ayaan's number.

"Hello?"

"Salaam walikum." Asad greeted him.

"Walikum salaam, bhaijaan," responded Ayaan.

"Humeira kaisi hai?"

"She's out of danger. Kal raath hi doctors ne zher nikal diya. Bhai, Zoya kaisi hain?" asked Ayaan, worry in his voice.

Tumme uski itni chinta kyun hai? Uniki wajeh se yeh sab hua hai," retorted Asad.

"Bhaijaan, aapne sagaai ki puri video dekhi nahi?" Ayaan was confused. Did his bhaijaan not see how Zoya was humiliated? How she quietly took insult after insult despite being publicly humiliated. All she cared about was defending Dilshad ammi.

"Nahin. Jab se Razia Ammi ko... mujhse aur nahin dekha gaya. To meine video off kiys tha. Tum aise kyun pooch rahe ho?" Asad didn't understand why Ayaan was defending Zoya. Humeira was in the hospital because of her!

"Bhai mein aapko bata nahin sakta. Aap filhal pura video dekh lije, aur aap khudi samaj jaenge. Allah Hafiz." Ayaan hung up.

Maybe... she's innocent? Immediately his brain chimed in. But if she hadn't gone there none of this would've happened. His fists started to form again. But for the sake of his brother he un-paused the video, and tried to figure out what exactly his brother was referring to. After the ring ceremony, the insults began again. And just as he was about to shut the laptop, he heard a loud resonating crackle.

He looked up to see a shocked Zoya, with her hand on her left cheek. Why is she holding her cheek like that, thought Asad. He quickly rewound the video by 30 seconds, to see if he could figure out what he missed.

"Please, mera yakeen kije. Humeira meri beheen jaisi hai! Mein aisi harkhat kabhi nahi kar-," Zoya started, but was cut off by Razia's hand flying across her face.

Once again Asad heard that loud crackle. The sound, and the sight in front of him, made him go numb. His teeth started grinding, his fists turning into balls, and his eyes blazing with anger, once again. The same kind of anger he'd felt when he'd heard Razia insult his mother. Only this time, the injured party was Zoya. His Zoya. How did I not notice the redness on her cheek earlier... how did I not see this... she... and she said nothing.. she never even complained... What... Ya Allah, WHAT HAVE I DONE.

He stood up and paced his room back and forth, for the umpteenth time. She tried to tell me last night... but I was so angry at her I only registered the part about her taking away my pareshanis. But.. she's gone.. I'm too late. Tears started forming in his eyes, as this sudden reality dawned on him. Just like always, I judged first and asked questions later. No... There has to be a way... that I can stop her...

He grabbed his jacket and bolted out his bedroom door. Dilshad and Najma had come down to get some tea to calm their nerves, when they saw Asad sprinting from his room. "Asad!" shouted Dilshad.

"Ammi mein is wakt baat nahi kar sakhta. Mujhe usse dundna hai," explained a desperate Asad.

"Kise?" Dilshad was confused for a moment. And then it hit her. "Zoya... tum Zoya ko dundne jaa rahe ho?" She couldn't contain her happiness that her son had come to his senses. "Par, tum usse dundho ghe kahan?" Dilshad was worried Zoya might already have left Bhopal.

"Woh mein nahin jaanta, Ammi, lekin mein Zoya ko zarur wapas lahoon ga." And with that he went to his car and drove off to bring her back home.

While in his car, he tried her cellphone, but got no response. He started to panic. Kahin woh plane mein to nahin? What if she's already flying? He decided to push the thought out of his mind. If that was the case, he'd confirm it at the airport. And he'd follow her wherever she was going.