PART 31: Extra long part in 3 sections
JAAN NA CHAAHTI HAI AAP AMMI? Asad gnashed his teeth angrily, THIS ENEMY TRIED TO KILL YOUR SON! HE BLEW UP OUR SHIP! HE IS NONE OTHER THAN YOUR HUSBAND MR. RASHID AHMED KHAN! AND YOUR DARLING ZOYA IS HIS DAUGHTER IN LAW, WIFE OF HIS YOUNGER SON, AYAAN KHAN!
The floor just collapsed beneath Dilshaad's feet. "What? Yeh kaisi behki behki si baatein kar rahe ho Asad?"
"Bhaijaan?" Najma exchanged glances with her ammi. They were both convinced that their Asad was reeling under the pressure of tremendous trauma.
Asad winced and clenched his fists. He had committed a grave error by revealing classified information to his family. Till he could collect evidence, there was no proof of Rashid's role in the crime. His one statement could create ripples in their lives. His ammi and sister had already suffered enough. How he wished he could take back that statement.
"Asad!" Dilshaad shook his elbow, "yeh kya keh rahe ho tum? Main nahin jaanti wo ab kahan hain, kis ke saath hain, lekin itna yakeen karti hoon ki wo apne bachcho se beintehaan mohabbat karte hain aur kabhie aisa soch bhi nahi sakte."
"AMMI!"Asad's nostrils flared, "just forget what I said. I have no proof about the ship accident but yes, Zoya is married to his son."
"Bhaijaan, aisa kaise ho sakta hai? How would Zoya meet them? And even if she did, why would she marry-I mean marry our half- brother?" Najma couldn't believe she just said that. They had a half-brother? They didn't have a clue all these years?
Dilshaad and Najma were shellshocked.
Asad tried his best to calm them down but the damage had been done.
Asad received a text message. It was Ayaan. He asked Asad to pick Farhan from a different address. Asad stared at the address on his screen and wondered why Farhan was somewhere else and not home with his parents?
"I need to leave." He placed his phone in his pocket and headed towards the door.
"Asad! Abhi tho aaye ho. Kuch khaaya bhi nahin." Dilshaad trembled nervously, "yeh kya ho gaya hai tumhein?"
"I will see you in the evening." Asad left them confused and baffled by his behavior.
"Ammi, should we contact a doctor?" Najma was very worried about her brother.
"Yeh mera beta nahin hai. Ek baar yeh bhi nahin poocha ki ammi aapki tabiyat kaisi hai? Aapka cancer ab theek ho gaya kya?" Dilshaad collapsed on the chair, dazed by the recent turn of events. Yes, she was on cloud nine when she saw him alive but her heart cried when she saw his state. He was perhaps having delusions. His childhood fears of losing his father to someone else were resurfacing after these traumatic events. How she wished Zoya was still there. Her son had never expressed it but she was now convinced that not finding Zoya had added fuel to his fire.
"Ammi. Main Dr Trivedi ko phone karti hoon. I am sure he knows a good psychologist."
"Nahin Najma. Pehle Zoya ko dhoondho. I feel seeing her can help him more than any doctor can. Jo log apni feelings express nahin karte, unhein zyaada chot mehsoos hoti hai. I just hope she is still here. Ya Allah! Meri galti ko maaf kar dena." Dilshaad prayed, "aur mere bte ko wapas bheja hi hai tho usey uski khushiyaan bhi wapas lauta dena."
"Ok, let me google her. I am sure I can find her."
"Dr. Ali se bhi poonch sakti ho. I think she has been in touch with him throughout." Dilshaad recalled how Dr. Ali always asked for her duplicate reports. She was sure, he sent them to Zoya. After Asad and Najma, Zoya was the only other well-wisher in her life.
ZOYA'S HOME:
Asad, hesitant at first, rang the doorbell, "aakhir yahan kaun rehta hai? Maybe Ayaan lives here. Us din wo apne ammi abbu ke yahan le gaya hoga. Na jaane in logon ke kitne secrets hain?"
A maid answered the door, "jee, aap Farhan ke liye aaye hain sir?"
"Jee haan. Mera naam AK hai."
"Wo abhi oopar hain. Aap wait kariye."
"Jee." Asad stepped in, feeling awkward about his presence in their home-Ayaan and Zoya's home. How he wished he had never offered to pick madam' from the airport. "An illusion would have been better than this reality." He sighed and sat down with his elbows on his knees and eyes to the floor. There were magazines and random file folders scattered all over the living room. A shawl in the corner, sandals thrown on the carpet and an art portfolio on the coffee table lay around carelessly. He covered his face with his palms. Of course, the room had Zoya written all over it. Wonder if Ayaan was as messy as her? He felt a lump in his throat. Only if she didn't belong to someone else, he would have gladly picked all her things and arranged them neatly or placed them where they belonged.
"MR. KHAN-MR. KHAN-MR. KHAN!" Farhan's voice floated from upstairs.
These days, Farhan was the only one who brought a cheer to his face. Asad glanced towards the stairs and saw Farhan flapping his arms. With half a smile curved on his lips, he stood up and gestured Farhan to come down.
Farhan shook his head and stretched his arms. "MR. KHAN-MR. KHAN-MR. KHAN!"
Asad looked around, hesitant to take the stairs to their private living quarters but Farhan was insistent. Why he addressed him as Mr. Khan,' was still a mystery for Asad. This kid was unusual and because of his communication issues, not always easy to understand.
He ascended a few stairs and then gestured again but Farhan was adamant, "apni ammi ki tarah ziddi hai." Asad mumbled to himself.
As soon as he reached the second level, Farhan grabbed his hand and dragged him over.
"Arre Farhan. Kahan le jaa rahe ho mujhey? Your ammi-abbu won't like that." Asad was embarrassed to step any further.
"Ammi-Ammi-Ammi." Farhan echoed and pulled Asad along.
Asad rolled his eyes and relented. They stopped outside a room; the door was ajar. He heard Zoya's voice from the room. She was talking to someone.
"Nahin Farhan," Asad shushed the kid, "let's go downstairs. Yeh tumhari ammi ka kamra hai."
"Mr. Khan-ammi-Mr. Khan-ammi," Farhan insisted and threw the door open.
For a few seconds, Asad stood frozen as if he had just landed on a large glacier. Any step forward or backward would turn it into an avalanche. The room was obviously Zoya's. It was messy, cluttered and disorganized but the chaos didn't bother him a bit. He couldn't take his eyes off the wall facing the door. That was him-Asad- at the Gateway of India, blown up in a life-sized picture. Farhan held his finger and pulled him in.
Asad's gaze scanned the whole room. Every wall and corner of the room had one theme- Asad Ahmed Khan. His jaw dropped to his knees; his eyes wide, astounded by the sight in front of his eyes. He recognized the pictures from their Mumbai darshan trip and some from the cruise. Even though he had been away for five long years, she had all along lived' with him in this room.
He recalled their conversation from five years ago:
"Mujhey tho Shahjahan pasand hai." She sighed.
"Typical woman! He was a sissy. Just because he made the Taj Mahal, people call him great."
"Of course he was great! Aaj kal ke zamaane mein koi kisi ke pyaar mein itna badha kaam kar sakta hai?"
"I would say he was incredibly foolish. What a waste of resources."
"What a way to become famous all over the world!" She exclaimed, "he is my dream man. Koi insaan apni biwi se itna pyaar kar sakta hai? Uski yaad mein Taj Mahal khada kar diya. Wow!"
"Nonsense! Why do women always expect a man to do something like that?"
"Mr. Khan, in that case, I will re write history." She retorted, "jab bhi mujhey kisi se itna pyaar ho jaayega, main us insaan ke liye Taj Mahal se bhi zyaada memorable cheez banaungi. You know a masterpiece that the world would admire and say- wow aashiqa ho tho Ms. Zoya Farooqui jaisi ho."
Asad was spellbound by the Taj Mahal'- her masterpiece hidden from the rest of the world that conveyed the same emotion as Shah Jahan probably felt for his begum, Mumtaz Mahal.
"Why Zoya Why? I don't deserve this." He thought to himself.
A canvas lay flat on the floor with the easel knocked down. He couldn't see the front of the canvas but was curious why it had been knocked down so mercilessly.
Zoya stood with her back to them. She was engrossed in a conversation with someone. She was still dressed in the wrinkled saree from last night. Obviously, she had not slept or rested after the rainy night.
"Humeira! Sweetheart, don't you worry jaan. Yeh tumhari badhi behen kis din kaam aayegi?"
Asad was confused, "badhi behen?"
"I know Humeira, Farhan mujhey ammi kehta hai, lekin ek baar tum ghar aa jaaogi, he will run into his real ammi's arms. Trust me. Bachche sab jaante hain.------even autistic kids------waise bhi Hindi mein suna hai na, khaala ko maasi kehte hain-----matlab maa jaisi----to main sirf ammi jaisi hoon-----ammi nahin------alright, now don't panic-----we all can't wait to see you tomorrow."
Asad couldn't believe what he had just heard, "khaala? Maasi? Real ammi? Ammi jaisi?"
If he had any further doubts, they were cleared by Zoya's closing statement on the phone.
"Humeira, tum jaanti ho na Ayaan tumse kitni mohabbat karte hain? He has missed you a lot in these two years. Each time he is with Farhan, he thinks about you. Iss liye mere paas hi zyaada rehta hai Farhan. Now when his parents are together, Farhaan tum dono ko chhod kar kahin nahin jaayega---- Achcha ab main chalti hoon---- I haven't even showered since last night's rain-----Farhan ko bhi apni therapy ke liye jaana hai----Bye jaan!"
Each word she had uttered on the phone sounded like music to his ears. Each life sized photograph of him on the wall dwarfed him in real life. Was there a life-sized hole in the floor where he could bury himself? Where he wouldn't have to face her? Where he could hide his judgment about her forever? Now he understood why Farhan addressed him as Mr Khan and why Farhan dragged him to this room. "A boy who can't communicate to the world tried to tell me the truth and I just presumed the worst. Kaash maine Farhan ki baat par gaur kiya hota."
AMMI!" Farhan ran into Zoya's arms as she turned around. "Mr. Khan!" He screamed. Zoya picked him up, her eyes away from Asad, "Farhan, can you please stop this Mr. Khan-Mr. Khan! Maine kaha hai na, Mr. Khan will never come back. He has gone forever!"
Ashamed of himself and his actions, Asad shut his eyes to hide his tears.
"MR. KHAN!" Farhan yelled again. This time Zoya glanced at the door and saw him standing there with his eyes shut.
"AAP? AAP YAHAN KAISE AAYE?" She yelled and placed Farhan on the floor. With her face flushed, she clenched her teeth angrily.
Finally, he mustered the courage to face her wrath. He opened his eyes and asked, "that's what I want to know. Main," he glanced all around the room, "main yahan kaise aaya?"
"This is a private room Mr. AK. Aapko yahan aane ki permission nahin hai. Yahan sirf Farhan aur main aa sakte hain."
"AK ko nahin hai permission, lekin kya aapke Mr. Khan ko bhi nahin hai?" He took a few steps forward towards her.
"Mr. Khan lost that privilege last night." She retreated a couple of steps.
"Lekin aapke privileged room ki saari deewaron ne tho sirf Mr. Khan ko hi privileges de rakhi hain. I don't think your Mr. Khan deserves all these privileges."
"AK. Please leave. I am in no mood to talk to you." She turned her back to him.
He came forward and stood inches away from her, "kyun Zoya?" His voice quivered, " Aakhir kyun karti hain in Mr. Khan se itna pyaar? Aakhir unhone aapko siva dard ke aur diya hi kya hai? Why don't you forget him? Why don't you move on in life?"
"AUR AAP SE UMEED HI KYA KAR SAKTI HOON MAIN?" She turned around, "Aap ko tho sirf bhoolna aata hai, haina? Move on karna aata hai! Ajnabi bankar kisi ka dil thodna aata hai, haina?"
"I-I-am sorry Zoya." He averted his eyes from her piercing gaze, "I-I-thought- you-"
"You thought what? Kahiye Mr. Khan!" She glared.
"I thought you were married and Farhan was""
"My child?"
He hung his head, guilty and ashamed.
"Yes, Farhan is my child- he is my kid-tho kya hua main uski asli ammi nahin hoon? I have raised him just like my own. Lekin yeh baat kal raat aap mujhsey poonch nahin sakte the? Ek baar poonchna tho door, you just assumed the worst about me right?" She had a sour smile on het face, "after all a runaway spoilt NRI brat from New York would fit that bill for you, haina Mr. Khan? Ek nahin tho doosra Khan hi sahi. It's always been about my last name- Farooqui, Siddiqui and now Mrs. Ayaan Khan!" She taunted him, "why is it never about Zoya?"
He shut his eyes and pursed his lips, "yes, I should have asked. I am a fool. I was being judgmental about you as usual."
Zoya's throat was on fire; she could barely speak. All the pent up emotions from last night came back with a vengeance. "You have always been judgmental about me- kabhie mera khaandaan, kabhie mera mulk, kabhie mera naam, kabhie mera rehen sehan- you have always had an issue with me but you know what really hurt me the most last night? Not your judgment but your attitude. Kya aapko ek baar bhi-ek baar bhi mujhey dekh kar khushi nahin huyi Mr. Khan? Kya aapko ek baar bhi aisa nahin laga ki mere saamne jo ladki khadi hai usey main apni baahon mein bhar loon? Kya aapko ek baar bhi aisa mehsoos nahin hua ki in paanch saalon mein kya beeti hogi is ladki par?"
Her words sliced into his heart like a dagger. Feeling too overwhelmed to speak and too ashamed to defend himself, he just picked Farhan from the floor and walked out of the room. He glided down the stairs as fast as he could. Farhan enjoyed the bumpy ride in his arms and squealed with joy.
A stunned Zoya was left staring into space.
"I hate you Mr. Khan! I hate you!" She slammed the doors of the studio and walked back to her bedroom.
...see next section below
Kabhi Neem Neem Kabhi Shahad Shahad
Ufff Yeh Love Hai Mushkil
Asian Shows
Cricket
Anupamaa
