From eggs and toasts to a sweater...
She could feel her body against some soft, fluffy material. She traced her hands on the material, clutching at it, to feel the softness against her palms. It reminded her of home. Her home. Where they all lived together, where her friends came for slumber parties and they had pillow fights together. Where everytime her brother annoyed her, she would jump on his bed and sit on his hip bone, jumping up and down till he begged her to get off. She missed home.
Her eyes were closed, and she lacked the energy to open them. Or was it the fear of finding herself somewhere that wasn't home? She felt so much at home at this place. Though the smell of her mother's fresh egg and tost was missing. She still remembered how everytime she wokeup, a strong smell of eggs and toast greeted her and she always clicked her tongue thinking, 'Not again'. But only she knew how badly she wished she could get that breakfast now. The one her mother lovingly made for her every morning.
A lone tear made its way across her face, with her eyes still shut close. After a long time she felt at home. Her mind wasn't fully awake, but she knew she was not at those hideous, uncomfortable, ready-to-gobble-you-down cells anymore. She could feel the freshness in the air she breathed in. It was nothing like those stinky sweats of the other women she had to breath the same air with, or the smell of dirty socks, or even an unflushed loo nearby.
Her mind was still asleep for she would've remembered the last night's events. But she didn't. Her mind was free today. She felt herself drifting in the morning, a few year's ago.
'Zoya? Uthjao beta', an eighteen year old Zoya could hear the most friendliest voice she had ever come across, speaking.
'Bas ten minutes more, Ammi', she had replied, resting her arm across her mother's lap, her face burried in the folds of the quilt.
'Aray? Its already eight, wakeup!', her mother had said, a noticeable playfullness in her voice, tickling her sides, making her giggle in her semi-sleeping state.
At last Zoya had given up and had opened her eyes, snuggling closer to her mother's lap, her arms around her waist.
'Egg and toast again?', Zoya had asked.
'Yeap!', her mother her proudly replied, making her chuckle. 'So get up, chop chop!'
'Only on one condition', Zoya said, a grin on her face.
Zainab knew what the condition was. It had been like this since years. Still, she always chose to play along.
'And the condition is?', she asked.
Zoya steadied herself on her arms, so her face was at the same level as her mother's and turned her face to the side, pointing at her cheek, smiling.
And Zainab leaned in and dropped a loving, affectionate good morning kiss on her daughter's cheek, like every other morning.
Zoya finally opened her eyes, to find herself staring at the cieling. A well painted cieling, she noticed. It was not the cell. Definitely not the cell. She sat up with a jolt, hugging the quilt to her body, looking around the room, trying to find out where she was.
The fluffly white bedsheet, the bed side table with a lamp on it, and a jar of water. A cupboard on the left side, a huge cupboard just ike her father used to to have in his room. Everything about the room screamed 'luxury'. She looked out the window, and it was still dark outside.
It wasn't morning yet? She looked at the fine wooden clock that hung on the wall and it showed 3:00 a.m! 'Where was she? She stood up from the bed, abandoning the quilt and walked around the room, admiring the fine architecture when reality hit her.
The tearing of her kurta, the hands of a man grazing her back, the lips of the man on her collarbone. 'Take your clothes off', and then the lights around her fading out. She remembered it all now. She pulled at her hair in frustration, the air she had previousy marvelled now suffocating her. The walls around her closing in on her.
'No', came a small voice from her lips.
'No', it came again.
'NOOO!', and she screamed.
Gone? All gone? She was no more a virgin anymore? Her dignity was snatched away from her? She clutched her stomach when she felt like throwing up, crying hysterically. No, this couldn't happen. No. But it had to be. She fainted and the man who had paid for her, surely had vented out his frustrations. She had seen him crying, she knew he must have vented it all out on her body. She felt sick of herself. She wanted to rip off the skin from her body, the dirty skin that had been scarred. She felt impure.
**
Had he heard his boss right? He can't be serious, right? He must be sarcastic, Ayaan concluded.
'Sir? What do you mean?', Ayaan asked, afraid of being fired anytime now.
'Ayaan! I'm speaking simple English here!', Asad hissed. 'You're sharing your home with that girl!'
Ayaan's jaw fell open. He was serious! Yes the house he lived in was Asad's property he had let him use but that didn't mean he could do this? How was he suppose to take care of a girl? He hadn't been able to take care of his own sister. Thats why he was here in Bhopal. He had ran away from his responsibilities. And now another girl he knew nothing about was being given to her to take care of?
'Sir, I-I can't, i mean she, she-', Ayaan stuttered before being cut off by Asad.
'Double the pay means you get to take care of your sister's health more now. Double the pay means your mother can hire a caretaker for your sister and take care of her own health'.
Asad knew he had hitten the spot by the look of Ayaan's face. He felt bad for Ayaan, yes he did. But he was a man who just listened to his mind and not the heart. And his mind told him this was right, so it had to be right.
'Okay, sir', Ayaan replied, swallowing the lump in his throat.
'Great, now-', Asad had began when they heard it.
Ayaan and Asad both stood up, alarmed when they heard a scream coming in from the room where the girl was. Did something happen to her?
Asad flew open the door to the room, with Ayaan behind him to find Zoya on the floor, her legs spread wide, in a hysterical position, cluctching her stomach. Worry took over the men and they neared her, to see what was wrong.
Zoya's eyes fell on the man standing a few feets away from him. The tall, dark man who was with her last night. The same man. The same man who had torn her kurti. The same man who had raped her. She saw him advancing towards her and she let out another blood-curdling scream.
Asad was shocked. Everyone in the building would hear her screaming, he had to make her stop. Why was she screaming? What happened?
'Listen, please stop-', he tried but was rewarded with another scream.
'GO AWAY! LEAVE ME ALONE!!', Zoya screamed, kicking her feet.
Asad looked at Ayaan helplessly but he saw the same shocked expression on his face.
Asad had to make her stop. He neared her, now scrunched up besides her, trying to talk to her.
'GO AWAY! YOU BLOODY RAPIST, GO AWAY!', Zoya screamed when she saw him crouch up near.
That was when it hit Asad. It hit him like lightening. Rapist. She had called him a rapist. His whole body stiffed, his features darkened once again, his jaws clenched. He looked at the girl's face, her tear stricken face, her kicking legs, her cluctching her stomach. He hadn't raped her. He was not a rapist!
He stood up, his body still stiff, looking over at the girl screaming. The screams didn't effect him anymore. He couldn't hear them. He could only listen to his fate mocking him. What a day the fate has chosen for all this. He threw one last look her way and exited the room, ignoring Ayaan who tried to stop him, ignored everything else.
Ayaan heard the door banging shut in the room next door. This was going to be a long night for all of them.
He looked over to the girl, still crying but had calmed down a bit not seeing Asad Ahmed Khan near. He neared her and crouched near her, testing if his presence too terrified him. But it didn't.
'Listen, everythings okay now', he said, his arm rubbing her back now, trying to calm her down.
She needed to relax. The doctor had said she was weak.
That was when her eyes fell on the man next to her. The man who had earlier tried to save her. The man who had held sympathy for her since the first time she had seen him. She didn't think twice before crashing against his body, and crying. He was the only sympathising person around her.
Saying Ayaan was shocked would be an understatement. He was not expecting this. He rubbed her back, unsure of what else to do.
'He raped me! He raped me!', she screamed into his chest.
Ayaan pushed her away a little to reply to her.
'No', he replied carefully. 'He didn't. He didn't do anything wrong, believe me!'
Zoya moved away from Ayaan, staring at his face, unbelievably. Was he joking? Was he too mocking her? Was she wrong judging him? Was he too like the other men?
'You're lying', was all she let out.
'No. Believe me, he didn't do anything wrong', Ayaan told her. 'Infact, Asad Ahmed Khan released you from that horrific place. You won't ever have to see that place again'.
Zoya stared at where Asad had stood earlier. Her face now much calmer, her crying subsided. Ayaan's words reverberated in her head. She was free? Free from that hell? Because of THAT man? So he hadn't raped her? She was still pure?
'Asad Ahmed Khan', a small voice escaped her lips, lingering there longer than it was supposed to, her eyes fixed at the door from where he had barged out.
**
Asad sat on his large king size bed, his elbows on his laps, his arms errect while his head rested in his palms. He glanced at the clock hanging. Amidst the whole thing, he had forgotten when the clock had chimed twelve.
Today was his mother's death anniversary. He let his tears fall today. Today he wouldn't stop them.
'GO AWAY! YOU BLOODY RAPIST, GO AWAY!', the scream of the girl replayed in his head.
He stood up with a jolt, walked over to his cupboard, tears cascading endlessly down his otherwise emotionless face, as he rummaged through the cupboard, throwing everything that came in his way, his whole body shaking with the intensity as the girl's words still replayed in his head.
Clothes, files, ties, towels, everything was thrown out of the cupboard in order to find something he was looking for. His hands finally touched the soft, woolen material, his whole body instantly calming a bit. He pulled at it, bringing it from beneath the piles of other clothes and looked it it.
The blue, woolen sweater. The vey sweater his mother had woven for him when he was five. He still had it because it was the only thing that could connect to his past. He had burnt everything else. Left behind the rest in his old house.
But he had brought this. He dropped on the floor, his back against the cupboard, the sweater in his hands. He rubbed the woolen material against his cheek, as he felt his mother's hands caressing his cheek. Fresn tears made their way down his face. He could feel his mother trying to console him.
He held the sweater in front of him and looked at it as if he saw his mother in it. But he did. He could see her light brown eyes, her black hair flying with the wind behind her, her sweet smile which had always made him wonder how could a woman always keep smiling?
'Ammi', he said, his voice cracking, as he traced his hand on the sweater. 'Ammi, I miss you. Waapis ajao, Ammi!'
He kissed the sweater, gently. Noone could say this was the same, ruthless, heartless, emotionless man.
'Ammi I'm not a rapist. I'm not a bad person. I didn't do anything! I need you here. Wapis ajao, Ammi', he cried into the sweater one again.
'AMMI!', he let out a terrifying scream into the sweater, unable to control his emotions anymore.
And frankly, not even wanting to.
A/N:
Listen guys, believe me Ayaan-Zoya will not happen in my FF. Just trust me. Whatever happens between Ayaan-Zoya, just trust me. Its about AsYa and it'l be about AsYa. Just trust me. There are somethings that i have to develop between Ayaan and Zoya but please, just trust me when i say its AsYa and only AsYa's story with Ayaan another important character.
Feedbacks, please! Like and comment! 🤗 collective pm's for part 4 and 5 will be sent since pm's for part 4 havent been sent.
Edited by -ElmoFuj- - 12 years ago
CID
Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi 2
124