SECTION TWO OF PART 25 (contd from above)
WOMEN'S HOSTEL:
Akram followed her to the gates of the hostel but she slammed the iron gates on his face, "don't bother to follow me Akram. Agar mujhey phir nazar aaye na, tho police mein report kar doongi. Stalking a woman like that can get you arrested."
With a sullen face, he went back to his father's house. Ghafoor reassured them that within a few days, the college would kick her out as he had stopped the tuition payments.
Nikhat, a friendly classmate let Zoya stay in with her at the women's hostel.
"Zoya, you know I can get into trouble for letting you stay in my hostel room."
"Don't worry Nikhat. I will leave in a day or two." She was hopeful that once Asad was back in town, things would resolve quickly. Since their last chat on Skype, Zoya had tremendous faith in him. She was confident that he would be able to convince his ammi.
"Sure Zoya. Lekin aisa kya hua ki tumhein sab kuch chodna padha?"
With a calm expression, as if a big load had been lifted off her chest since she walked out on abbu, Zoya smiled, "it's a long story Nikhat. Bas yeh samjho meri mohabbat aur meri zimmedari ki wajah se mujhey yeh kadam lena padh raha hai."
"Wow! That sounds almost surreal."
"It's real and the only truth in my life right now."
"How will you support yourself? Tumhare abbu ne tho saare accounts freeze kar diye hain."
Zoya pondered a bit. Even if Asad were to come back in a few days and take her home with him, she couldn't be a burden on his family before their marriage.
"Good thought Nikhat." She got up and removed an envelope from her bag. It was the invitation letter from Bombay Art House- Asad's Eidi to her. Zoya admired his foresight and kissed the envelope. The most unromantic gift could turn out to be the most practical gift.
"Yeh kya hai?" Nikaht asked.
"I will find out tomorrow but can I borrow your phone for a few minutes? Mujhey kuch phone calls karne hain."
"Sure." Nikhat handed her phone and stepped out into the common room to give Zoya some privacy.
"Hi Tamatar?" Zoya was relieved that Najma had picked the phone.
"Zoya?" Najma whispered, "ek minute, let me go to my room."
"Kaisi ho? Phoophi kaisi hain? I am so sorry yeh sab aise achanak ho gaya. Trust me, I had no idea about their history. Maine jaan boojh kar apna naam nahin chupaya tha. Please forgive me Najma."
"I know-I know- Zoya. I know you would never do anything to hurt us but kya karoon, ammi is very adamant. Unhein jhooth se sakht nafrat hai. Unka kehna hai jo ek baar jhooth bol sakta hai, wo kabhie bhi jhooth bol sakta hai."
Zoya bit her lower lip and tried to control her tears, "it was unintentional Najma."
"Zoya, aap fikr na karo. Bhaijaan ke aate hi sab theek ho jaayega. Aap abhi kuch din apne abbu ke paas reh lo."
She nodded silently; Zoya didn't want Najma to know what had transpired between her and abbu, "Najma," she added softly, "kal phoophi ka Dr Ali ke saath appointment hai. It's at 10 in the morning. Would you be able to take her? I know tumhari class hai morning mein. If you want I can meet you there at the clinic."
"Nahin Zoya. Filhaal, ammi is in a very bad mood. She doesn't want to talk about anything. Kahin aapko dekh kar aur naaraz na ho jaayein. Unki tabiyat waise hi nazuk hai."
Zoya felt her heart squirm with pain; she had never imagined that her dearest phoophi would ever feel this way about her. Najma was right- she couldn't afford to weaken her recovery after the surgery, "you are right Najma. Please keep me posted. Oh, but my phone---"
"Kya hua aapke phone ko?"
"Kuch nahin. I will call you tomorrow. I might need a new phone."
"Theek hai Zoya. You take care. I love you."
"I love you too." Zoya sniffed and wiped her nose.
Next, she tried to call Anwar but he was not available. "Perhaps, I should stop taking jeeju's advice. If it were not for his advice, I wouldn't have created this mess for myself. This is my fight and I will deal with it my way. Mujhey ab aur kisi ki advice ki zaroorat nahin hai."
NEXT DAY: BOMBAY ART HOUSE
"Please come in, Ms. Zoya Farooqui?" A young man in his early 20s welcomed her with a big smile. In her defiance against abbu, she decided to stick with her mother's last name. Most of her paperwork in India was also under the same name.
"That's right. Aur aap, Mr. Ayaan Khan?"
"Jee! Please have a seat Ms. Farooqui."
"Thanks." She sat across from the large teak desk.
"So, I reviewed your portfolio. Looks like you are a stellar student at the JJ School of arts."
"Thanks."
"Lekin aapko mujh se kya kaam hai? Abhi tho aap graduate bhi nahin huyi hain."
"Yeh letter," she pulled the invitation out, "I just wanted to show you this special invitation I received from your gallery."
"Oh I see!" Ayaan took the letter from her, "yeh tho special invitations the. Waise that exhibition is over but we only send it out to selected people."
"That means there must be something special about me, right?"
"Well," Ayaan chuckled, "perhaps."
"Then why do I need a degree to prove my talent? If I am good enough to receive this invitation, then I can prove myself worthy of getting employment at your art house. I am willing to do any kind of job. Art is my passion and I would be honored to work at such a prestigious gallery."
Ayaan laughed, "you know how to sell yourself. That must be your American background, right?"
Zoya smiled back, "filhaal tho main India mein hi rehna chaahti hoon tho background aur foreground poori tarah Hindustani hai."
"Got it!" Ayaan chuckled, "you seem very motivated. Waise how did you get this invitation? Kis ne diya aapko?"
"Mere achche dost hain."
"Kya naam hai unka?"
"Mr. Asad Ahmed Khan."
Ayaan's ears perked up at the mention of that name, "kya kaha? Asad Ahmed Khan? Is he a Naval officer?"
Her face lit up, "aap jaante hain unhein?"
"N-nahin," Ayaan shuffled in his seat, "j-jaanta tho nahin hoon lekin naam jaana pehchaana hai. One minute---" he stood up, "excuse me, I will be right back."
Zoya have him a quizzical look and nodded gently.
BASEMENT OFFICE AT BOMBAY ART HOUSE:
"Abbu, Asad bhaijaan's friend is here." Ayaan interrupted Rashid as he pored over his spreadsheet attentively, "she wants a job."
"Asad's friend?" With half a smile, Rashid glanced upwards and pushed the spreadsheet away, "really? Kahan?"
"She is in the main office upstairs."
Asad's name was music to Rashid's ears. Even though it had been 17 long years, his longing for his first family had not diminished. Only Allah knew how much he still loved them. Dilshaad, his college sweetheart, his first and only love despised him after what happened 17 years ago. Asad, his pride, his firstborn had always been the ideal son- the son every man dreamt of having. If only he had not lied to Dilshaad, if only he had listened to her warnings, if only he had refused to work under Ghafoor Ahmed Siddiqui, if only he had not been greedy, if only there was no woman called Razia in this world...his world would have been so different.
"SHE IS IN THE MAIN OFFICE UPSTAIRS." Ayaan repeated when he realized his father was lost in his thoughts.
Rashid shook off his thoughts, "I-Ismein poonchne ki kya baat hai? Aaj pehli baar koi Asad ke jaan pehchaan ka yahan aaya hai. There couldn't be anything better than that. Of course hire her."
"She has no experience."
"Koi baat nahin Ayaan. Tumney bhi aise hi yahan kaam shuru kiya tha."
"Aap milenge unsey?"
"No, that's alright. Waqt aane par mil loonga. Make sure she doesn't find anything about us."
"Jee abbu." Ayaan turned to leave but paused at the door, "abbu, can I ask you something?"
Lost in his thoughts, Rashid glanced up, "Oh-y-yeah-h-haan pooncho."
"Aap abhi bhi Asad bhaijaan ko miss karte hain na abbu?"
Rashid smiled, his eyes moist, "it's hard to forget your first born. Tum bhi ab baap ban ne waale ho samajh jaaoge."
"Jee."
"Wo chaahe mujh se nafrat kare, main usey hamesha chaahta rahoonga. I don't even know if he is aware I am here in Mumbai, alive. Police records mein tho meri kab ki car accident mein maut ho chuki hai."
"Aap milte kyun nahin hain unse?"
Rashid shook his head, "nahin Ayaan. I don't want them to get into trouble. There are so many legal cases against me. Kahin kisi ne dekh liya tho bahut problem ho sakti hai."
"Chup chup ke tho aap bhaijaan ko dekhte hain lekin."
Rashid slapped Ayaan's back, "yeah, so you found out about his graduation video? I really wanted to see him graduate from the India Naval Academy. I am glad I was able to get that video."
"Kisi din main dekh sakta hoon? I really don't even know how he looks. Kaisa bhai hoon main?"
"Sure! Lekin Asad ko nahin pata ki uska ek chota bhai hai. Jab waqt aayega, sab pata chal jaayega."
BUZZ! BUZZ
It was Rashid's underground phone.
"Ek minute Ayaan. Haan Razia! Bolo. Kaam ho gaya? Fantastic! Maal pahunch gaya na? Wonderful. Allah ka lakh lakh shukr hai!"
"Oh! So, we are safe?" Ayaan asked once Rashid hung up.
"Yeah!" Rashid nodded, "good work Ayaan. I am glad you were able to get that message intercepted. Our ship landed safely in Dubai."
"What about their ship?"
Rashid shrugged his shoulder, "I just care about our stuff. Dushman se mujhey koi vaasta nahin hai."
"Achcha abbu. I will give her the employment papers. Kya offer doon?"
"Let's start her at Rs 10,000.00 per month and re evaluate in a month."
"Theek hai abbu."
MAIN OFFICE AT BOMBAY ART HOUSE
'Congratulations Ms. Farooqui." Ayaan walked into the door and shook her hand, "welcome aboard! You have a job with us."
"Thanks a ton Mr. Khan." She found it odd to address someone else by that name.
"Call me Ayaan." He smiled. Zoya was relieved as Asad was and would always be the Mr. Khan in her life.
"Thanks Ayaan." She smiled back.
"Aaiye, let me show you the gallery. You will start off as a guide. I want you to familiarize yourself with the various rooms and artists we have on display."
"Ek problem aa gayi hai Ayaan."
"Problem?" He frowned, "job shuru hone se pehle hi?"
"I just found out that I am no longer a student at the college."
"Arre aise kaise?"
Zoya sighed," I have had a fall out with my abbu. That's why I need the job and now that I can't go to college, can I work full time?"
Ayaan pondered and then nodded, "theek hai, lekin salary utni hi milegi."
'Kitni?"
"10, 000 a month."
Her eyes lit up. Ayaan gave her an incredulous look, "this is in rupees, not dollars."
"Oh," she shut her eyes, "of course." The color faded from her cheeks, " Lekin 10 000 rupees tho mera phone bill aata hai. That's only $200 dollars, right? How can I survive on that?"
Ayaan just shrugged his shoulders, "I am sorry, this is the best I can offer. Aap ke paas koi degree bhi nahin hai abhi. Take it or leave it."
Real life was not going to be a bed of roses, she realized. Zoya had no choice, "okay, I accept the offer but if I perform well, can I get a raise?"
"Absolutely!" Ayaan smiled and led the way to the gallery.
WESTERN NAVAL COMMAND, MUMBAI: OFFICE OF THE VICE ADMIRAL
"This is unacceptable commander! How can our ship just disappear?"
"There was a major storm- worse than we expected."
"Our ships can withstand most storms these days. Is there any indication of any foul play?"
"We are still investigating."
'Any survivors?"
"We have sent a search and rescue operation."
"Commander, please make this a priority. This could be a major embarrassment for the Navy."
"Yes sir!"
NEXT MORNING:
"Nikhat, I am moving to the working women's hostel."
"I don't understand Zoya. Why you going to work? What about college?"
"College can wait." Zoya packed her bag and thanked Nikhat for her hospitality.
"I am sure one day you will be a successful artist then all this won't matter," Nikhat hugged Zoya and wished her luck, "please call me anytime."
"Of course I will. Meri jab pehli art exhibition hogi na, pehla invitation tumhein hi bhejoongi." Zoya kissed Nikhat's cheek and walked out of the hostel. Nikhat gave her a thumbs-up sign and waved back. "Allah kare tum apni mohabbat aur zimmedari dono mein kaamyaab ho."
Zoya blew her a flying kiss and rolled her bag out of the college premises. She stared at the building from where Asad had rescued her on Eid.
"Itne kam waqt mein is college ke saath itni yaadein judh gayi hain." She had never felt that nostalgic even when she had graduated from her high school in New York. Any place or memory associated with Asad had created a special place in her heart.
"Mr. Khan, aap bhi kamaal ke insaan hain," she spoke to herself while waiting for the next bus at the bus stop, "mere dil aur zindagi par is tarah kabzaa kar liya hai aapne ki aur kisi insaan ya yaadon ke liye wahan jagah hi nahin bachi hai. Ab bas aap jaldi ghar aa jaaiye. I miss you a lot."
BUZZ! BUZZ!
Her phone had been buzzing for a while in her purse. She chastised herself for ignoring the buzz.
"Hello!" Flustered she answered the call.
"ZOYA! ZOYA! BHAIJAAN! ZOYA! PLEASE JALDI AAO!"
"Najma?" Zoya's heart raced after she heard Najma's voice. There was panic, tears and urgency in that voice.
"Phoophi theek hain?" Zoya expressed her first fear.
"Please come quickly Zoya. Please---bhaijaan-please---please."
"Hello! Hello! Najma!"
The phone had disconnected.
….to be contd….
Iss Pyaar Ko Kya Naam Doon
