My AsYa picture stories (updated pg 6) - Page 5

My heart broke watching Mr. Khan hold Tanveer in such a heartfelt manner. After yesterday? We had danced together in the rain. He had looked into my eyes, and I saw his attraction. And his words? They came back to memory during the bus journey. He had admitted his attraction to me, although he instantly squashed it by calling me a misfit.

And after reaching the house, everyone started extolling Tanveer's virtues. Great paragon of virtue. I grumble in irritation, as the green eyed monster reared its head in me. I watched them talk very intimately at the breakfast table, feeding each other, coochi-cooing (OK, I'm exaggerating) and talking serious' poetry. And Mr. Khan brushes me aside like an annoying child.

Why am I looking for approval in Mr. Khan's eyes? Just because we had a moment in a intoxicated state? He had made it quite clear that he believes in rules, he can easily remove unsuitable things that are not good for him.

Mujhe kya farak padta what happens in his personal life?

I'm here to find my Abbu. Bas!

Mitwa... Ishq Pe Zor Nahi...

It was Holi morning. Although Najma wouldn't dare play pranks on me, I distinctly remember seeing Ms. Farooqui sneaking out of my room at midnight like a thief. And I wouldn't put it past her to pull pranks.

I went about my morning routine carefully, watching for anything out of place. And I spotted my face towel peppered with red colored powder. Hah! Gotcha! Avoiding it, I finished my morning duties and walked out of the bath, face covered in a clean cloth. I found Ms. Farooqui gleefully waiting for me armed with a phone camera aimed at my face.

The shock on her face when she found my face clean was hilarious. It took quite a bit to quell my mirth. She stuttered something about wanting to prank me but subsequently changing her mind.

Why are you taking my photo, Ms Farooqui?' I venture.

Photo essay!! I'm making a photo essay of eye catching sights of India. So, I thought I'd take your picture!' she replied cleverly, or so she thought.

But why are you taking MY picture? That too when I'm coming out of the washroom?' I press on.

Come on Mr. Khan... You're also an eye catching sight...' she blabbed without thinking.

I paused. I feel absurdly pleased by this small compliment from her. I schooled my face into careful blankness.

Zoya realized her faux pas and dug a deeper hole. No, Mr. Khan, don't misunderstand me! I'm not calling you eye candy!'

I quirk an eyebrow enquiringly, keeping my silence.

No, no! Aap hai eye candy, don't worry! Please don't misunderstand me!' Zoya said, flustered.

Ms Farooqui, WHAT are you doing here in my room?' I came back to the point.

Umm, camera! I'm testing my camera!' She proceeded to randomly snap pictures of various things, making her way to my washroom, obviously to see what went wrong with her foolproof' plan.

She found her red powder still in place, in a white towel by the sink. While she stared at it dumbfounded, I picked up a bucket of water and emptied it over her, drenching her with a shrieking gasp. Then I calmly walk up to her, grab a handful of red powder and smeared her cheeks.

Happy Holi Ms. Farooqui. Aur plan,iss se kehte hain ...'

She stared at me with large saucer-like eyes, stunned that I could be party to a prank like this.

I surprised myself too. But God, she was looking pretty, speechless and smeared with colour.

Mitwa... Ishq Pe Zor Nahi...

If you need anything, I'm here...'

Today was an extremely difficult day for Ms. Farooqui. She found out her Abbu had passed away 15 years ago. From me. When the photoframe shop owner came looking for her this morning and told me about this, I knew I must be the one to tell her. For my own sake, I needed to be with her and see her through it. I needed to give her my strength and my shoulder. I needed to be the one who held her as she cried bereft, I couldn't bear to be a bystander.

So I held her, as she railed at the unfairness of it all; her tears clawing at me as I bore it stoically, hoping my presence gave her some strength of spirit. I lead her to the grave, guiding her to clean and decorate the old forgotten grave with cloth, flowers and incense. She prayed with tears streaming from her face, reminding me of the first time I set my eyes upon her, in a bridal dress at a mazhar.

I drove her home. Her silence the opposite of the bubbling hope and eagerness she had arrived with. She pleaded a headache and excused herself to her room where she stayed for the rest of the evening. Later that night, I found her seated at the windows, facing the garden, watching the starlit sky. Her face was crumpled and sad, devoid of her usual impish smile.

I made her a cup of milk coffee and sat beside her, hoping to extend her the courtesy of consoling company that she had given me before. She is a really strong girl. She has reconciled in her mind that she was glad that this was the reason her father never came to look for her all those years ago. She forgave her father for the absconding and abandonment so easily, that I felt a little stung at her generosity.

Then she said she was going to leave for home. I felt myself going cold all over. My brain shouted No..!' but my lips were frozen and silent. My heart says, Stop her! Don't let her go!', but I find myself unable to say or do anything but stare at her.

Why does the thought of her leaving upset me so? What is this strange new need in me to have her with me? I don't know how to name this feeling, but i know I have to stop her from leaving us.

Mitwa... Ishq pe Zor Nahin...

Do you really want to leave Ms. Farooqui...?'

I must go Mr. Khan,'

There is a lot of difference between wanting to go and having to go, Ms Farooqui'

I don't have a reason to stay back anymore...'

If I ask you to stay back, will that be enough of a reason...?'

If I ask you to stay, will you stay back Ms. Farooqui?'

Why do you want to stop me from leaving Mr. Khan?'

I don't know the reason. All I know is I can't bear to see you go away...'

Rukhjao... Zoya...'

How I wished this was what I had actually said to her as she packed to leave. Instead of the stuttering fool who stood there asking her if she had confirmed her flight tickets and if she had finished packing.

Mitwa... Ishq pe Zor Nahin

Remembering AsYa: First Engagement

Dear God. What came over me today? Zoya had this hair-brained plan to let me see Ayaan's engagement, which went horribly wrong. Humeira ended up in hospital, and I pushed Zoya out straight into Mr. Bhatawdekhar's hands to be deported back to the US.

Then Ammi showed me that it was Ayaan that Zoya was helping, albeit disastrously. I felt horrible at my behaviour and also needed her to be back again. So I drove like a madman through traffic, dove past security officials at the airport and dashed about desperately looking for Zoya.

Suddenly there she was, standing in line dejectedly. I yelled her name, and our eyes met. There was no mistaking the joy in her face. There was scuffling as we both fought off people to get to each other.

Suddenly, a ring fell out of my pocket, gleaming in the fluorescent light. I break free from the policemen, ran up to her, dropped on my knee and slipped it onto her ring finger. She looked at me, stunned , disbelieving. Suddenly, there was thunderous applause everywhere, goodhearted cheer for a romantic gesture, and we were off the hook.

It was only back in my room, much later that I had time to myself to think. I had just gotten myself engaged to Ms. Farooqui , for all to see.

Mitwa... Ishq Pe Zor Nahin...

She had bugged me all day about it. What does this ring mean to you, Mr. Khan?', she kept asking, over and over. I had evaded an answer, so she resorted to pulling pranks on me to get me to reveal my feelings.

If she's ziddi, I'm definitely a bigger one! I'll be damned if I tell her of what is churning inside of me. Of which I'm not yet sure. I feel something, for her, but I don't know what to call it. Yet. I need time, to think, to decide, make sense of it.

But Ammi had dropped a gauntlet today, at Mohsin's wedding. Upon being challenged by Mr. Rashid's wife, Ammi swore she would get me married in 10 days! Suddenly, there wasn't any time to think. There was a ticking time bomb behind my head, its ticking sound driving me anxious. Ammi cornered me about my feelings for Zoya and I just couldn't voice it, more so when Zoya appeared at the door. I need time!

Then Tanveer interfered. Gosh, she's becoming very annoying these days, putting her foot in unwelcome places! She alluded that my prevarication was a sign of dissent. That my engagement to Zoya was involuntary, just a ploy to help Zoya out of trouble, and I should be let off the hook. It was just too much for me to handle so I left.

Much later, I chanced upon Zoya, standing alone by the large windows facing the garden. She turned to me resignedly and apologized for pranking me all evening about the engagement. Being sorry for trying to make me express feelings for her that I didn't have. I swallowed convulsively and remained silent.

'I'll return your ring. You'll need it for your real fiance...'

Suddenly I didn't want to see the ring off her finger. I didn't want it back. The vehemence with which she tried to yank it off belied the hurt she bore. I stop her by grabbing her hands.

Let it be, Zoya'.

Mitwa... Ishq Pe Zor Nahin...

AsYa 2nd engagement

How dare she think I don't dare do what I say?! No way I'm going to marry her... Whatever Ammi says... If only Ammi doesn't keep fainting when I try to reason with her about this ridiculous marriage she is proposing...

I'll do what I want...'

When I decide something, I'll never back off from it,

I'll convince Ammi that I can't marry you. I know she wants me to marry you, but she also taught me never to lie, and I can't lie to her by having a fake wedding...'

I'll convince her, that I won't be marrying you...'

I'll be firm and I'll tell her right away...' I said convincingly. Whether I was convincing myself or Zoya I wasn't sure, but it felt like the correct thing to do. And I always did the correct thing.

And yet, here I am spellbound, the next evening, holding this beautiful woman's hand in mine, her eyes luminous in the candlelight. She looked into my eyes and told me that this didn't feel fake. No, Zoya, this doesn't feel fake,my heart answered. I took her hand, trembling, soft but willing, in mine. It felt like a natural fit, a key fitting into a lock. My heart feels in peace, my cynical brain has taken a leave of absence.

And it felt right, to place my ring on her finger, in my home, with my family bearing witness.