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Three showz mix one show...
"I did not marry you because I loved you. I married you because she loved you!"
Her own words rang back in her ears, gnarling, gnawing and wobbling all the strength within her. Her throat parched and she lazily tried to reach out for the glass of water.
She had thought that admitting would help her fight her demons but alas, she was proven wrong again. Just the way always, this time also, her preplanned conceded life also suffered from her wrong decision; her momentary wrath and lose of control.
"Why did you play with her life and mine? Why did you plot us into the massacre? Why, Khushi, why!"
Khushi shook her head, gulping down the water in one go, and then, besotted herself with the last of fulfillment left within her; the memories...
"I," he colorlessly mumbled, "Wouldn't have been standing here if not for her heinous and wrong ways."
Clasping his hand in her hold, she plastered a smile on her lips and responded; trying to sound truthful, "Don't hold on to the bitterness of the past, Asher. Things happen and so did it."
"It..." he poured himself another round of alcohol, remaining put with the dullness of the room, "...did not happen, Khirad. Instead, it was made to happen."
She closed her eyes tightly shut, unable to bear the torment he was giving himself.
The glass shattered into pieces within his tight grip as he venomously spit, his eyes dark and shadily gazing at nowhere, "I loved her always and she brought me nothing but shame; unending misery! How could she still find excuses to mask away her failure; her impulse? How could she still live with the consequences of her acts when others are suffering?"
"If she is, then, why can't you, Asher!" Khirad screamed, finally losing all her calm.
He stared back up, bewildered at her first outburst.
She, oblivious to the acknowledgement of his shock, banged her fist angrily on the desk and yelled out, "If she is living this peacefully, then, why you can't? Remember, Asher, she did the wrong. She made the mistake, not you! She deserves to be tormented, not you! Why can't you live your life, when she is?"
Khirad fumed in rage but in a moment, Asher was on his feet, clutching her shoulders, fumingly.
"Khirad! She may have made the mistake but I have to suffer! I can't live my life peacefully despite her being wrong because she is a part of me! She is her, Khirad, she is in me! She haunts me, she torments me, she angers me but she mellows me helpless!"
"Excuse me, Ma'am," the servant knocked on the door, making Khushi hand the bowl of curry to Khala for further preparations.
"Yes," she responded and looked ahead at him.
The servant, without any expression, informed, "Sir called and said that he wouldn't be home tonight. He is expected to dine with his clients and handle a late-night conference."
Her expression turned from confusion to the usualness and she nodded but her heart squirmed. He always did that.
Khushi adjusted her veil and smiled at Khala who placed a loving hand upon her suffering child; praying to her Allah that she finds happiness soon. Her name and her life were the commonest of opposites of each other but still she remained to stand uproot.
"Asher is again staying out tonight, huh?" Khala questioned, turning the knob off.
She did not let the smile drop and took in the aroma of the curry. Living with Khala had taught her that non-vegetarian cuisine could be delicious too.
"He has a late-night conference with his clients," she responded, dryly.
Khala poured herself a glass of water.
"How many late-night conferences is he supposed to attend? He comes home at night, barely two days a week and those two days are when you leave for your tours. How is your marriage going to work this way, Khushi jaan?"
She knew that she had to reply. This was Khala and she need not pretend.
Wondering into her own world, she answered, "That is purely his business, Khala. You know that we both don't interfere in each others' such matters. And concerning our relationship, you are not unaware of anything. Our marriage was never supposed to work. I planned it this way only; dead and buried under qualms."
"It is so late; almost past 10:30. Let me see," before Khala could pester more, the doorbell rang and Khushi hurried out to answer it, not wanting to bicker over the topic much farther.
He lay down, staring quietly at the ceiling above and played with a lock of hair on Khirad's face.
Khirad let thoughts prevail their perseverance inside her.
She had now known Asher Hussain for two years and knowing him had been the biggest lesson of life. She now knew why people made regrets. The example was set before her in the name of Asher. He regretted only one thing in life; his wife.
"Zoya..." he muttered out of nowhere, startling her, "...used to say that silence does not speak. She loved to chat. I," he smiled his genuine smile, "Used to laugh it off and shush her with the belief that silence does speak. Now..." she held his hand tightly under the blanket as his voice choked, "...when all I have is silence surrounding me, I feel that she was right. She was always right, wasn't she? Silence does not speak."
Silence prevailed as Khirad's heart knotted several ties but she knew that she was not supposed to respond. That was why he spent his time with her; she was his property because she wanted to. But she was not anticipated to respond to such painful beliefs that he shared.
At least he shared; Khirad mocked; otherwise his wife was not even existent to him. They fought, they yelled, they avoided but they did not share.
"Asher," this time, she startled him, "If you don't mind, then, may I ask you of what happened with Asad?"
His cell beeped, indicating a new message, and picking it up, he smiled at Khirad.
"We would meet tomorrow in the evening and there, we would resume this topic. Goodnight."
"Yes?" Khushi started the conversation with the man sitting in his early thirties before her.
His hair was perfectly gelled and he hung into a three-piece-suit, visiting the Hussain Mansion. She already calculated him to be one of Asher's officials.
"Arnav Singh Raizada," the man took out his hand from his pocket for a handshake.
Khushi nodded and placed her hand into his. It created a strange sense of homeliness and warmth within him while she politely resigned to her duties.
They both sat down after Khushi ordered two cups of coffee for both of them.
"So, what brings you here, Mr.Raizada?" she queried in her cheerful, professional tone.
He took a deep breath and reminded himself again of the professionalism that he and his ARD team conveyed, always.
"A bit of means..." his husky voice whispered and she stared, surprised.
Lopsided smile, he threw and added, "I was anticipating a meeting with the Hussains tonight for a business venture."
Her expression stiffened as she explained, passing him the cup of coffee, "Mr.Raizada, me and my husband prefer to handle our ventures individually. That is the sole reason why we are successful in our own fields. For that, we don't bring our official circulations inside the house."
The sternness in the lady's tone erected the business tycoon within him and he placed the cup back on the table, coldly intervening, "I wished to meet him personally for reasons, Mrs.Hussain."
She cringed and the mug stirred in her hold. He never failed to witness that.
"Please address me as Khushi. I like the sound of my first name."
"Why not your surname..." he whispered, igniting the deeps within her, "...Khushi?"
Inhaling a hefty amount of air, she firmly stated, "Because Mrs. Khushi Hussain sounds that I am creeping onto somebody for identity, which I am not. So, I prefer being called Khushi. Does that knock some sense?"
"You are a short-tempered lady, Khushi," he laughed, shaking his head.
She stood up, not knowing of why her temperament rose to such extent, and rudely snapped, "I would not fail to tell Asher of your visit, Mr.Raizada. I would definitely convey your regards to him. Thank you."
Arnav stood on his feet and said, some corner of his heart angry at the treatment, "It was lovely meeting you, Khushi..." he added after a small pause, "...I would be expecting you at the Royals tomorrow for lunch."
"Asher would look after it," she conveniently replied, looking the other way.
He shook his head and glanced at her face, a little longer than she needed and he wanted, "You did not hear properly, I suppose, Khushi. I said that I would be expecting you at the Royals tomorrow afternoon."
"Me?" she emphasized, surprised at his straight-forwardness.
He smiled again and waved away, saying, "Goodnight, Khushi."
Khala appeared and Khushi shot, airily, "Did I ever tell that I despise moody people and unnecessary smiles?"
Khala frowned and she barged back, muttering, "So, now I do!"
😉
"Asher..." Khirad whispered, staring outside the Heights apartment, "...can never be solved. He has closed the knits to all answers reaching him."
"Khushi Hussain," Arnav's lips curved once more as his car's engine roared and the car drove off.👍🏼
Destiny has two ways of crushing us; by refusing our wishes and by fulfilling them. Either ways, the destined people who made the mistakes reared upon endless journeys to find fulfillment and some unexplained answers.
😉😊🥺
"I did not marry you because I loved you. I married you because she loved you!"
Her own words rang back in her ears, gnarling, gnawing and wobbling all the strength within her. Her throat parched and she lazily tried to reach out for the glass of water.
She had thought that admitting would help her fight her demons but alas, she was proven wrong again. Just the way always, this time also, her preplanned conceded life also suffered from her wrong decision; her momentary wrath and lose of control.
"Why did you play with her life and mine? Why did you plot us into the massacre? Why, Khushi, why!"
Khushi shook her head, gulping down the water in one go, and then, besotted herself with the last of fulfillment left within her; the memories...
"I," he colorlessly mumbled, "Wouldn't have been standing here if not for her heinous and wrong ways."
Clasping his hand in her hold, she plastered a smile on her lips and responded; trying to sound truthful, "Don't hold on to the bitterness of the past, Asher. Things happen and so did it."
"It..." he poured himself another round of alcohol, remaining put with the dullness of the room, "...did not happen, Khirad. Instead, it was made to happen."
She closed her eyes tightly shut, unable to bear the torment he was giving himself.
The glass shattered into pieces within his tight grip as he venomously spit, his eyes dark and shadily gazing at nowhere, "I loved her always and she brought me nothing but shame; unending misery! How could she still find excuses to mask away her failure; her impulse? How could she still live with the consequences of her acts when others are suffering?"
"If she is, then, why can't you, Asher!" Khirad screamed, finally losing all her calm.
He stared back up, bewildered at her first outburst.
She, oblivious to the acknowledgement of his shock, banged her fist angrily on the desk and yelled out, "If she is living this peacefully, then, why you can't? Remember, Asher, she did the wrong. She made the mistake, not you! She deserves to be tormented, not you! Why can't you live your life, when she is?"
Khirad fumed in rage but in a moment, Asher was on his feet, clutching her shoulders, fumingly.
"Khirad! She may have made the mistake but I have to suffer! I can't live my life peacefully despite her being wrong because she is a part of me! She is her, Khirad, she is in me! She haunts me, she torments me, she angers me but she mellows me helpless!"
"Excuse me, Ma'am," the servant knocked on the door, making Khushi hand the bowl of curry to Khala for further preparations.
"Yes," she responded and looked ahead at him.
The servant, without any expression, informed, "Sir called and said that he wouldn't be home tonight. He is expected to dine with his clients and handle a late-night conference."
Her expression turned from confusion to the usualness and she nodded but her heart squirmed. He always did that.
Khushi adjusted her veil and smiled at Khala who placed a loving hand upon her suffering child; praying to her Allah that she finds happiness soon. Her name and her life were the commonest of opposites of each other but still she remained to stand uproot.
"Asher is again staying out tonight, huh?" Khala questioned, turning the knob off.
She did not let the smile drop and took in the aroma of the curry. Living with Khala had taught her that non-vegetarian cuisine could be delicious too.
"He has a late-night conference with his clients," she responded, dryly.
Khala poured herself a glass of water.
"How many late-night conferences is he supposed to attend? He comes home at night, barely two days a week and those two days are when you leave for your tours. How is your marriage going to work this way, Khushi jaan?"
She knew that she had to reply. This was Khala and she need not pretend.
Wondering into her own world, she answered, "That is purely his business, Khala. You know that we both don't interfere in each others' such matters. And concerning our relationship, you are not unaware of anything. Our marriage was never supposed to work. I planned it this way only; dead and buried under qualms."
"It is so late; almost past 10:30. Let me see," before Khala could pester more, the doorbell rang and Khushi hurried out to answer it, not wanting to bicker over the topic much farther.
He lay down, staring quietly at the ceiling above and played with a lock of hair on Khirad's face.
Khirad let thoughts prevail their perseverance inside her.
She had now known Asher Hussain for two years and knowing him had been the biggest lesson of life. She now knew why people made regrets. The example was set before her in the name of Asher. He regretted only one thing in life; his wife.
"Zoya..." he muttered out of nowhere, startling her, "...used to say that silence does not speak. She loved to chat. I," he smiled his genuine smile, "Used to laugh it off and shush her with the belief that silence does speak. Now..." she held his hand tightly under the blanket as his voice choked, "...when all I have is silence surrounding me, I feel that she was right. She was always right, wasn't she? Silence does not speak."
Silence prevailed as Khirad's heart knotted several ties but she knew that she was not supposed to respond. That was why he spent his time with her; she was his property because she wanted to. But she was not anticipated to respond to such painful beliefs that he shared.
At least he shared; Khirad mocked; otherwise his wife was not even existent to him. They fought, they yelled, they avoided but they did not share.
"Asher," this time, she startled him, "If you don't mind, then, may I ask you of what happened with Asad?"
His cell beeped, indicating a new message, and picking it up, he smiled at Khirad.
"We would meet tomorrow in the evening and there, we would resume this topic. Goodnight."
"Yes?" Khushi started the conversation with the man sitting in his early thirties before her.
His hair was perfectly gelled and he hung into a three-piece-suit, visiting the Hussain Mansion. She already calculated him to be one of Asher's officials.
"Arnav Singh Raizada," the man took out his hand from his pocket for a handshake.
Khushi nodded and placed her hand into his. It created a strange sense of homeliness and warmth within him while she politely resigned to her duties.
They both sat down after Khushi ordered two cups of coffee for both of them.
"So, what brings you here, Mr.Raizada?" she queried in her cheerful, professional tone.
He took a deep breath and reminded himself again of the professionalism that he and his ARD team conveyed, always.
"A bit of means..." his husky voice whispered and she stared, surprised.
Lopsided smile, he threw and added, "I was anticipating a meeting with the Hussains tonight for a business venture."
Her expression stiffened as she explained, passing him the cup of coffee, "Mr.Raizada, me and my husband prefer to handle our ventures individually. That is the sole reason why we are successful in our own fields. For that, we don't bring our official circulations inside the house."
The sternness in the lady's tone erected the business tycoon within him and he placed the cup back on the table, coldly intervening, "I wished to meet him personally for reasons, Mrs.Hussain."
She cringed and the mug stirred in her hold. He never failed to witness that.
"Please address me as Khushi. I like the sound of my first name."
"Why not your surname..." he whispered, igniting the deeps within her, "...Khushi?"
Inhaling a hefty amount of air, she firmly stated, "Because Mrs. Khushi Hussain sounds that I am creeping onto somebody for identity, which I am not. So, I prefer being called Khushi. Does that knock some sense?"
"You are a short-tempered lady, Khushi," he laughed, shaking his head.
She stood up, not knowing of why her temperament rose to such extent, and rudely snapped, "I would not fail to tell Asher of your visit, Mr.Raizada. I would definitely convey your regards to him. Thank you."
Arnav stood on his feet and said, some corner of his heart angry at the treatment, "It was lovely meeting you, Khushi..." he added after a small pause, "...I would be expecting you at the Royals tomorrow for lunch."
"Asher would look after it," she conveniently replied, looking the other way.
He shook his head and glanced at her face, a little longer than she needed and he wanted, "You did not hear properly, I suppose, Khushi. I said that I would be expecting you at the Royals tomorrow afternoon."
"Me?" she emphasized, surprised at his straight-forwardness.
He smiled again and waved away, saying, "Goodnight, Khushi."
Khala appeared and Khushi shot, airily, "Did I ever tell that I despise moody people and unnecessary smiles?"
Khala frowned and she barged back, muttering, "So, now I do!"
😉
"Asher..." Khirad whispered, staring outside the Heights apartment, "...can never be solved. He has closed the knits to all answers reaching him."
"Khushi Hussain," Arnav's lips curved once more as his car's engine roared and the car drove off.👍🏼
Destiny has two ways of crushing us; by refusing our wishes and by fulfilling them. Either ways, the destined people who made the mistakes reared upon endless journeys to find fulfillment and some unexplained answers.
😉😊🥺Part 2 this Story...
"May I know who is expecting a meeting with Mr.Hussain?" the secretary politely questioned to the speaker on the other side.
There was a small pause after which the reply came, "Asad Ahmed Khan, CEO of Dilshaad Constructions."
The secretary's tone changed in a split second and she beckoned, "Mr.Khan? Sir was wishing to meet him for such a long time. It would be very well."
"Then, would today afternoon be fine with Mr.Hussain?" the other speaker questioned politely.
The response was affirmative as she checked the appointment tag and promptly shuffled other meetings; this was what Asher Hussain desperately wanted to come across.
As soon as she disconnected the call, her boss appeared, discussing a plan with his team. She walked over there and stated with a smile, "A very good morning, Sir. I have fantastic news."
He smiled, softly but confusedly, and queried with his hands dug deep into his pockets, "Am I a part of it?"
She blushed and responded, "Mr.Asad Ahmed Khan of Dilshaad Constructions has fixed a lunch meeting with you, Sir."
Asher's eyes sparkled and he burst into a smile, speaking, "This is a fabulous piece of news, Rayna. Awesome!"
He was so close; she could have saved him; but she did not...
All she did was stand there and watch him run into the fire; fire of lies, deceit and conspiracy. She was helpless then. She had been blackmailed but she had been selfish too. People played her; the world did; but she was never behind...
She played her own self; her soul; her best friend...
"Ma'am, Farida ma'am is on the line. She says that she rang your cell but you did not pick up."
Her trance broke off with her secretary's voice and she forced a weak smile on her lips, saying, "Transfer the line here, Zuni."
Zuni did exactly that.
"Ammi, how have you been? I was planning to call you tonight," she chirpily told her mother-in-law, gesturing her secretary to excuse the clients for a while.
She heard Farida laugh.
"Asalam-walekum, Khushi, first of all."
She flushed and said, "I forgot. Sorry; Namaste, Ammi. Asalam-walekum too."
"It's fine. I have been fine. My conference here has extended for fifteen days more and that leaves me with no choice but to cancel my visit to Bahamas. Will you please have a chat with Shagufta Bi and look after it?"
Khushi burst into a gentle smile as she said, "Of course, Ammi, but I would miss you."
"Look, dear, I had a talk with Asher this morning and fixed a lunch date for both of you. You must reach there on time."
The color on her cheeks faded off and her smile evaporated without much delay. She fumbled, "Ammi, I have an urgent meeting-"
Farida cut her off in between, "I wouldn't be hearing any excuses, Khushi. I can't bear my son and my daughter-in-law squeeze all the life out of their relationship. Why can't you both move ahead and become normal?"
"Ammi..." she helplessly whispered and then, "...I won't be late. Bye. Allah Hafiz. Namaste."
Placing the receiver back on the handset, Khushi breathed several times, controlling her tears and muttered, "One can move ahead in life but we can't move back."
He looked down from the unavoidable height of his floor and stared at the cars roaming about in the buzz of ensuring something for the future, running away from the present.
Height never appealed him; he didn't know why, but it never did. People used to run after success and the heights, to reach a magnificent level of perfection, but he was happy in the serenity of his place...
Life was worth a huge laugh; he shook his head, gaze still fixated downwards with hands warm within the pockets; those who wished to conquer were still running away. But those who wished to stay leveled, still, were thrown to handle away the success; the heave.
She was the reason of why he stood at such heights; such conquer; and she used to be the reason of why he wished to remain put; still...
Asad Ahmed Khan did not wish anymore. As he took a deep breath, for the sake of lives depending upon him, his mind drifted off to faraway memories; which were now a nightmare...
Eight years ago...
"Asad!" her voice rang, colliding with the burning fire, "Run away! Don't come here! The doors are transposed from within!" she cried out, choking away but yet firm, "Leave, Asad, leave! Go away!"
A twenty-two year old Asad helplessly banged the wall, in vain, with the only desire of being able to save his life's inspiration; his love; his Zoya.
And inside the burns, within the fire-caught dread, cried Zoya Farooqi, with the last wish of saving her friend's life; her Asad's life.
Asad did not understand why she wanted him to not save her; had the full-of-life, cheerful Zoya died within the fear of not living? Has she given up?
No, she can't; he told himself; and banged harder with determination, scurrying blood to throb down his arms. Nothing mattered except the woman who desperately tried to make him run away; his Zoya.
"Zoya..." he whispered as the glass parted their hands, touching each other from a deeper root, "...don't give up. If you give up, then, I would too..."
Zoya swallowed hard trying to breathe, trying to live, and shaking her head, she mumbled softly, trying to reach out, "Please, Asad; never give up on life. I..." she eyed around with fright and then gazing passionately into his eyes, piercing his soul, continued, "...have one last wish to convey."
"Shut up!" he screamed, madly searching about for a way to get in, "Just shut up, okay!"
She shook her head, her eyes turning blank as emptiness fulfilled her, "Listen, Asad. This shall take place. Khushi shall not face humiliation."
"Humiliation?" he frowned, confused, trying to connect with her slender fingers.
Zoya nodded.
"Just listen to me. She shouldn't face any humiliation. Tell Asher..." her eyes blinked, "...that Zoya is complete with his one gaze. He has to save Khushi. He has to find a way. He has to. He has to..."
"Asad Sir?" the voice brought him back to the heights, where Zoya had fulfilled her emptiness with somebody else' love.
Now, he very well understood what she meant that night by humiliation.
"Yes, Tak," he turned around in a swift moment and looked up for a moment at his secretary.
"The meeting with Asher Hussain has been fixed for today lunch."
The information cringed some corner of his heart. Finally, they were going to stand before each other; this time, getting professional over professionalism.
And now he would meet Khushi, Khushi Hussain; to know why she threw away Zoya; her best friend, her shadow; into the fire of emptiness. Why she did that; he would question her now.
"Di, I would be seeing Jiju tomorrow during the meeting. From there, we would reach home together," he responded, at the same time listening to his teammate's presentational strategy.
His Di prodded from the other end, completely disapproving of his plan, "But I want you to come over today. My friend, Rimsha, and her sister Khirad are coming over today for lunch. Khirad is very beautiful-"
"Di! I am not getting along to date any girl," he emphasized every word of the sentence with all the patience left inside him.
His employ reacted as if he had turned tone-deaf and exited the cabin.
"She is beautiful," Anjali barrowed upon every word and he rolled his eyes.
Arnav clicked on another slide and responded, warily ignoring the statement, "I will be home tomorrow. Today, I have a meeting to attend with..." he cursed under his breath and carefully placed, "...a potential client."
"Khushi Hussain!" his sister shrieked out, taking him by surprise and embarrassment.
"What the-" he was cut off soon enough.
"Sorry," her cheeky voice mamothed, "Actually, my favorite designer Khushi Hussain was on the news channel along with her husband, Asher. They make such a dazzling couple but..." his sister paused and unknown why, he waited for her to complete, "...incompleteness surrounds them. They look like he and she. They don't look them."
"I have to leave now, Di," he checked the time and excluded the merest of proves from his mind.
Khushi Hussain; he would get to know her soon enough.
Months ago...
"I keep saying that the best food with you seems poisonous to me, Asher Hussain."
Her hissed tone did nothing to stop him from tasting the delicious Lasagna and he dug in further to feast upon the starter.
Khushi glared at him and then got back to her dinner, muttering, "Your brother-"
Blazing fire, he threw away the plate and shouted at the top of his voice, frightening the servants present there, "Don't bring Khizer Hussain into all this! He is not my brother! You get that, Khushi Kumari Gupta?"
However much he stuttered her senses, she stood up fiercely and with equal thunder, burst out, "He will always remain your brother, no matter what you say! The truth is that his shameless manipulation has got us here today! If he wouldn't have blackmailed and exploited my..." she breathed and continued without any air of his wounds being scratched, "...virtue, then, that massacre wouldn't have taken place in the first place. Zoya would have been Zoya Hussain and I would have been better off being Khushi Kumari Gupta, the best actress!"
Asher gritted his teeth and his veins throbbed hurt. He pushed his wife aside but she firmly stood up to his madness and kept shrieking, "Don't run away, you coward! I know that you somewhere knew what your brother was and to get even with me for our silly arguments every day, you pushed me ahead to meet him, didn't you?"
"Swear on your shadow, your best friend Zoya, Khushi that I did all that to get even with you. You know what you meant to me then..." his loud scream turned the feeblest of his pain as he tiredly exited the hall.
Not backing off and angered by his truthful confession of those youthful days, she retorted, "Zoya was such a fool to fall in love with a man like you; heartless, ruthless and emotionless! You ruined my career then because of your own selfishness to guard me from the glamorous world but you did not even glance once at my best friend whose day started and ended with your gaze, your smile, your words and you! Do you even know what it feels to love so passionately and not get loved back?"
"Ask your heart, Khushi," he turned back for a moment, his heart wrenched and his scars gnawed, "And you would know that I know it. I know what it feels to love so passionately..." his gaze directed into her hazel eyes, he continued, "...and get hated back in return. I live my everyday with those memories that we; you, me, Zoya and our friends; once cherished but now all those memories bring to me, is pain."
Khushi looked away, clenching her fists tightly, but he went on, tiredly staring into her tearful eyes, "Pain; when I see Zoya within you and the misery that she may have felt of not being loved by me. Pain; when you cry over our irrevocable mistakes. These things hurt and torment my dreams, Khushi. I am still trying to find Asad with hope that he may understand me like he always did..."
"Khushi..."
Abruptly aware of her surroundings at Royals, Khushi turned her eyes to find the man with that husky voice.
Arnav smiled his infectious smile at her and whispered as she looked ahead at him, rewinding the conversation they had last night, "You are exactly on time. I just reached; come on."
Khushi reasoned, very patiently looking around to find Asher, "You have misunderstood, Mr.Raizada. I am here to have lunch with..." her eyes found their object of imprisonment entering the space, and she looked into Arnav's eyes, completing, "...my husband."
He turned away to spot her gaze and in no time, a very slow smirk crept on, "Your husband, his secretary and his team are here to have lunch with you..." this time he purposely added, very softly, "...Mrs.Hussain."
Besotted beyond explanation, Khushi kept staring with her lips pursed in confusion, without firing back.
Understanding her reverie, Arnav sighed and blinked, saying, "Look, he is here for a lunch meeting."
"And how are you aware of that?" she finally snapped, irked by his overtly informative attitude.
The boyish grin, solemnly visible on the businessman's face, came up as he humored, "You see, I keep an eye on the Richie riches all round the globe."
Seeing the blank expression on her face, he exasperatedly added, "I am the owner of a chain of industries, Khushi. Am I not supposed to know that how we hold meetings?"
"Sir, Asad Sir's secretary just called."
He nodded and gestured to continue, descending the small staircase round the Royals.
"They have changed the location of the meeting. They want to meet at The Palace now."
This time, it did not anger him.
"Okay, then," was all he stated, turning on his heels to meet Asad Ahmed Khan after years; eight long years.
"Ask the lady of what she would like to have," Arnav ordered the waiter who politely obeyed.
The forced lunch was finally taken over. Now, she did not have to bear him for another long hour. And she was not responsible for its cancellation. Ammi could happily tell off Asher for his wrong behavior.
"Ma'am?" the waiter queried.
Khushi, startled, looked upwards and quietly placed a small order. As one problem had been resolved, she was stuck having lunch with another; Arnav Singh Raizada.
"Look, Mister," she primed as the waiter left, "Let's get this over with. What do you want?"
Arnav, for the first time captivated by the disinterest of this woman, responded with all honesty, "I want you to work for ARD, as our collaboration partner."
No matter how much suffering you went through, you never wanted to let go of those memories. Sharing tales of those we've lost is how we keep from really losing them. The memories; those tales; of the people they had lost weren't letting go. Perhaps they would never know that they were still stuck into those sufferings...😊👏
"May I know who is expecting a meeting with Mr.Hussain?" the secretary politely questioned to the speaker on the other side.
There was a small pause after which the reply came, "Asad Ahmed Khan, CEO of Dilshaad Constructions."
The secretary's tone changed in a split second and she beckoned, "Mr.Khan? Sir was wishing to meet him for such a long time. It would be very well."
"Then, would today afternoon be fine with Mr.Hussain?" the other speaker questioned politely.
The response was affirmative as she checked the appointment tag and promptly shuffled other meetings; this was what Asher Hussain desperately wanted to come across.
As soon as she disconnected the call, her boss appeared, discussing a plan with his team. She walked over there and stated with a smile, "A very good morning, Sir. I have fantastic news."
He smiled, softly but confusedly, and queried with his hands dug deep into his pockets, "Am I a part of it?"
She blushed and responded, "Mr.Asad Ahmed Khan of Dilshaad Constructions has fixed a lunch meeting with you, Sir."
Asher's eyes sparkled and he burst into a smile, speaking, "This is a fabulous piece of news, Rayna. Awesome!"
He was so close; she could have saved him; but she did not...
All she did was stand there and watch him run into the fire; fire of lies, deceit and conspiracy. She was helpless then. She had been blackmailed but she had been selfish too. People played her; the world did; but she was never behind...
She played her own self; her soul; her best friend...
"Ma'am, Farida ma'am is on the line. She says that she rang your cell but you did not pick up."
Her trance broke off with her secretary's voice and she forced a weak smile on her lips, saying, "Transfer the line here, Zuni."
Zuni did exactly that.
"Ammi, how have you been? I was planning to call you tonight," she chirpily told her mother-in-law, gesturing her secretary to excuse the clients for a while.
She heard Farida laugh.
"Asalam-walekum, Khushi, first of all."
She flushed and said, "I forgot. Sorry; Namaste, Ammi. Asalam-walekum too."
"It's fine. I have been fine. My conference here has extended for fifteen days more and that leaves me with no choice but to cancel my visit to Bahamas. Will you please have a chat with Shagufta Bi and look after it?"
Khushi burst into a gentle smile as she said, "Of course, Ammi, but I would miss you."
"Look, dear, I had a talk with Asher this morning and fixed a lunch date for both of you. You must reach there on time."
The color on her cheeks faded off and her smile evaporated without much delay. She fumbled, "Ammi, I have an urgent meeting-"
Farida cut her off in between, "I wouldn't be hearing any excuses, Khushi. I can't bear my son and my daughter-in-law squeeze all the life out of their relationship. Why can't you both move ahead and become normal?"
"Ammi..." she helplessly whispered and then, "...I won't be late. Bye. Allah Hafiz. Namaste."
Placing the receiver back on the handset, Khushi breathed several times, controlling her tears and muttered, "One can move ahead in life but we can't move back."
He looked down from the unavoidable height of his floor and stared at the cars roaming about in the buzz of ensuring something for the future, running away from the present.
Height never appealed him; he didn't know why, but it never did. People used to run after success and the heights, to reach a magnificent level of perfection, but he was happy in the serenity of his place...
Life was worth a huge laugh; he shook his head, gaze still fixated downwards with hands warm within the pockets; those who wished to conquer were still running away. But those who wished to stay leveled, still, were thrown to handle away the success; the heave.
She was the reason of why he stood at such heights; such conquer; and she used to be the reason of why he wished to remain put; still...
Asad Ahmed Khan did not wish anymore. As he took a deep breath, for the sake of lives depending upon him, his mind drifted off to faraway memories; which were now a nightmare...
Eight years ago...
"Asad!" her voice rang, colliding with the burning fire, "Run away! Don't come here! The doors are transposed from within!" she cried out, choking away but yet firm, "Leave, Asad, leave! Go away!"
A twenty-two year old Asad helplessly banged the wall, in vain, with the only desire of being able to save his life's inspiration; his love; his Zoya.
And inside the burns, within the fire-caught dread, cried Zoya Farooqi, with the last wish of saving her friend's life; her Asad's life.
Asad did not understand why she wanted him to not save her; had the full-of-life, cheerful Zoya died within the fear of not living? Has she given up?
No, she can't; he told himself; and banged harder with determination, scurrying blood to throb down his arms. Nothing mattered except the woman who desperately tried to make him run away; his Zoya.
"Zoya..." he whispered as the glass parted their hands, touching each other from a deeper root, "...don't give up. If you give up, then, I would too..."
Zoya swallowed hard trying to breathe, trying to live, and shaking her head, she mumbled softly, trying to reach out, "Please, Asad; never give up on life. I..." she eyed around with fright and then gazing passionately into his eyes, piercing his soul, continued, "...have one last wish to convey."
"Shut up!" he screamed, madly searching about for a way to get in, "Just shut up, okay!"
She shook her head, her eyes turning blank as emptiness fulfilled her, "Listen, Asad. This shall take place. Khushi shall not face humiliation."
"Humiliation?" he frowned, confused, trying to connect with her slender fingers.
Zoya nodded.
"Just listen to me. She shouldn't face any humiliation. Tell Asher..." her eyes blinked, "...that Zoya is complete with his one gaze. He has to save Khushi. He has to find a way. He has to. He has to..."
"Asad Sir?" the voice brought him back to the heights, where Zoya had fulfilled her emptiness with somebody else' love.
Now, he very well understood what she meant that night by humiliation.
"Yes, Tak," he turned around in a swift moment and looked up for a moment at his secretary.
"The meeting with Asher Hussain has been fixed for today lunch."
The information cringed some corner of his heart. Finally, they were going to stand before each other; this time, getting professional over professionalism.
And now he would meet Khushi, Khushi Hussain; to know why she threw away Zoya; her best friend, her shadow; into the fire of emptiness. Why she did that; he would question her now.
"Di, I would be seeing Jiju tomorrow during the meeting. From there, we would reach home together," he responded, at the same time listening to his teammate's presentational strategy.
His Di prodded from the other end, completely disapproving of his plan, "But I want you to come over today. My friend, Rimsha, and her sister Khirad are coming over today for lunch. Khirad is very beautiful-"
"Di! I am not getting along to date any girl," he emphasized every word of the sentence with all the patience left inside him.
His employ reacted as if he had turned tone-deaf and exited the cabin.
"She is beautiful," Anjali barrowed upon every word and he rolled his eyes.
Arnav clicked on another slide and responded, warily ignoring the statement, "I will be home tomorrow. Today, I have a meeting to attend with..." he cursed under his breath and carefully placed, "...a potential client."
"Khushi Hussain!" his sister shrieked out, taking him by surprise and embarrassment.
"What the-" he was cut off soon enough.
"Sorry," her cheeky voice mamothed, "Actually, my favorite designer Khushi Hussain was on the news channel along with her husband, Asher. They make such a dazzling couple but..." his sister paused and unknown why, he waited for her to complete, "...incompleteness surrounds them. They look like he and she. They don't look them."
"I have to leave now, Di," he checked the time and excluded the merest of proves from his mind.
Khushi Hussain; he would get to know her soon enough.
Months ago...
"I keep saying that the best food with you seems poisonous to me, Asher Hussain."
Her hissed tone did nothing to stop him from tasting the delicious Lasagna and he dug in further to feast upon the starter.
Khushi glared at him and then got back to her dinner, muttering, "Your brother-"
Blazing fire, he threw away the plate and shouted at the top of his voice, frightening the servants present there, "Don't bring Khizer Hussain into all this! He is not my brother! You get that, Khushi Kumari Gupta?"
However much he stuttered her senses, she stood up fiercely and with equal thunder, burst out, "He will always remain your brother, no matter what you say! The truth is that his shameless manipulation has got us here today! If he wouldn't have blackmailed and exploited my..." she breathed and continued without any air of his wounds being scratched, "...virtue, then, that massacre wouldn't have taken place in the first place. Zoya would have been Zoya Hussain and I would have been better off being Khushi Kumari Gupta, the best actress!"
Asher gritted his teeth and his veins throbbed hurt. He pushed his wife aside but she firmly stood up to his madness and kept shrieking, "Don't run away, you coward! I know that you somewhere knew what your brother was and to get even with me for our silly arguments every day, you pushed me ahead to meet him, didn't you?"
"Swear on your shadow, your best friend Zoya, Khushi that I did all that to get even with you. You know what you meant to me then..." his loud scream turned the feeblest of his pain as he tiredly exited the hall.
Not backing off and angered by his truthful confession of those youthful days, she retorted, "Zoya was such a fool to fall in love with a man like you; heartless, ruthless and emotionless! You ruined my career then because of your own selfishness to guard me from the glamorous world but you did not even glance once at my best friend whose day started and ended with your gaze, your smile, your words and you! Do you even know what it feels to love so passionately and not get loved back?"
"Ask your heart, Khushi," he turned back for a moment, his heart wrenched and his scars gnawed, "And you would know that I know it. I know what it feels to love so passionately..." his gaze directed into her hazel eyes, he continued, "...and get hated back in return. I live my everyday with those memories that we; you, me, Zoya and our friends; once cherished but now all those memories bring to me, is pain."
Khushi looked away, clenching her fists tightly, but he went on, tiredly staring into her tearful eyes, "Pain; when I see Zoya within you and the misery that she may have felt of not being loved by me. Pain; when you cry over our irrevocable mistakes. These things hurt and torment my dreams, Khushi. I am still trying to find Asad with hope that he may understand me like he always did..."
"Khushi..."
Abruptly aware of her surroundings at Royals, Khushi turned her eyes to find the man with that husky voice.
Arnav smiled his infectious smile at her and whispered as she looked ahead at him, rewinding the conversation they had last night, "You are exactly on time. I just reached; come on."
Khushi reasoned, very patiently looking around to find Asher, "You have misunderstood, Mr.Raizada. I am here to have lunch with..." her eyes found their object of imprisonment entering the space, and she looked into Arnav's eyes, completing, "...my husband."
He turned away to spot her gaze and in no time, a very slow smirk crept on, "Your husband, his secretary and his team are here to have lunch with you..." this time he purposely added, very softly, "...Mrs.Hussain."
Besotted beyond explanation, Khushi kept staring with her lips pursed in confusion, without firing back.
Understanding her reverie, Arnav sighed and blinked, saying, "Look, he is here for a lunch meeting."
"And how are you aware of that?" she finally snapped, irked by his overtly informative attitude.
The boyish grin, solemnly visible on the businessman's face, came up as he humored, "You see, I keep an eye on the Richie riches all round the globe."
Seeing the blank expression on her face, he exasperatedly added, "I am the owner of a chain of industries, Khushi. Am I not supposed to know that how we hold meetings?"
"Sir, Asad Sir's secretary just called."
He nodded and gestured to continue, descending the small staircase round the Royals.
"They have changed the location of the meeting. They want to meet at The Palace now."
This time, it did not anger him.
"Okay, then," was all he stated, turning on his heels to meet Asad Ahmed Khan after years; eight long years.
"Ask the lady of what she would like to have," Arnav ordered the waiter who politely obeyed.
The forced lunch was finally taken over. Now, she did not have to bear him for another long hour. And she was not responsible for its cancellation. Ammi could happily tell off Asher for his wrong behavior.
"Ma'am?" the waiter queried.
Khushi, startled, looked upwards and quietly placed a small order. As one problem had been resolved, she was stuck having lunch with another; Arnav Singh Raizada.
"Look, Mister," she primed as the waiter left, "Let's get this over with. What do you want?"
Arnav, for the first time captivated by the disinterest of this woman, responded with all honesty, "I want you to work for ARD, as our collaboration partner."
No matter how much suffering you went through, you never wanted to let go of those memories. Sharing tales of those we've lost is how we keep from really losing them. The memories; those tales; of the people they had lost weren't letting go. Perhaps they would never know that they were still stuck into those sufferings...😊👏
Itti Si Khushi Sab TV
