The question lingered in the air, echoing in the grand hall.
"Aap kya chati hai, Ms. Farooqui, ki yeh sagaai asli baan jaye?"
Zoya froze. She looked into his eyes, as he stared back at her. His eyes were questioning, pleading almost. She saw her own confusion and wonder mirrored in those chocolate orbs that ruled her dreams lately.
Did she want this to be real? Why was she so hell bent on making him admit to feelings he's never voiced, when she herself was unsure? And what were these feelings? Why did she feel elated, over the moon, and as if she was flying so high that she could touch the clouds when he proposed to her in the airport. When he looked at her, with tears in his blood shot eyes, as he held her hand firmly, claiming her as his for all to see.
"Aaj se yeh meri mangetar hai. Inne rokne ka mujhe pura hakh hai."
The wind blew the little streams of translucent fabric hung on the pillars that surrounded them. Green, pink, red, all flowing around them, to their own silent symphony.
Asad looked at her intently. What is she thinking? Why did I ask her that? No, I need to know. Zoya, do you want this to be real? Please just tell me once. Tumhare ek ishare se mein... But he couldn't complete the sentence, even as a thought. He would what? Come close to her, just to hurt her? To repeat history? The history that was in his blood? NO. He couldn't do that to her. She was too innocent, and she was too pure. He didn't deserve her. But she wouldn't understand that. And that's why he had to keep her at arm's length. But then why did the idea of her desperation to know his feelings cause his resolve to weaken?
"Bhaijaan..."
Both Asad and Zoya blinked, brought back to reality, as they heard Najma's voice.
"Bhaijaan, Ammi bol rahi hain ki humein chalna chaiye," continued a nervous Najma. She looked down, and fidgeted with her dupatta. Asad noticed her discomfort.
"Tamatar, sab theek hai? Tum itni ghabraiwi kyun lag rahi ho?" he asked earnestly, worry overtaking him.
"Bhaijaan, woh... A-Abbu..." managed Najma, as she noticed the color drain from her bhaijaan's face.
Asad fisted his hands, and looked down in disgust. Of course he would be here. His Ammi and him did have common relatives. He should've anticipated this possibility. He took a deep breath, and looked at Najma, who was still fidgeting. He smiled sadly.
Even though he hated his father, and his sister had stood by him, he knew a part of her always wanted to get to know him. He was her father after all. But she would never dare attempt anything to that respect, knowing full well that it would hurt her bhaijaan, whom she considered her abbu.
"Ammi se khena hum chalte hain. Mein gaari lekar tumhe bahaar milta hoon."
Najma nodded and scurried off to find Dilshad. Asad turned his gaze back at Zoya, who was looking back at him as well. They shared a knowing look. This would have to wait. And as far as Asad was concerned, Zoya would be waiting a long time, because he would never reveal his feelings to her, he promised himself. But Zoya had something else in mind. She was slowly understanding what it was she wanted him to understand. She had feelings for him. She had feelings for her Jahapana Six Packs. And she would make him admit his own. Be it a drama, or be it real, she would make him voice the truth that he'd been avoiding for so long.
* * * * * * * * * *
Zoya paced around in her room. Asad had gone straight to his room when they all reached home. Figures, she thought. What was going on with her? Why did she want him to realize what it meant to him? What did it mean to her? Why did she nag him like she was actually his fianc? And why did it bother her that he brushed it off as a drama?
She huffed in frustration, as she quickened her pace, burning tracks into the floor.
She remembered the conversation she'd had with Najma when she first came to this house. How she wished to be in love. How when she would finally fall in love, it would change everything. She would change herself, for him. She'd nag him, incessantly. She'd shy away from him, she'd complain when he didn't voice his compliments. As she recalled her words, she realized, that's exactly was she'd been doing, with him.
Yes, Zoya Farooqui had feelings for Asad Ahmed Khan. Zoya couldn't help but smile. Jahapana Six Packs... aur unki kaneez. She bit her lip, as she slowly realized what those feelings meant. Why everything was a little different when he was near her. Why his smoldering looks made her weak at the knees. Why his one touch sent her heart into an erratic rhythm. Why her dreams were ruled by his voice, his six packs, his heart and his eyes.
Zoya Farooqui was in love.
* * * * * * * * * *
Asad say on his settee, his head in his hands, unable to comprehend what he should do. He'd always resolved to stay away from marriage. From falling in love with a girl. And now, he could tell he was heading in that very direction. His heart was beating a million miles a minute. He was torn. He knew he was starting to fall for her. He never knew what love was. He never knew what it felt like. But every time she would talk, every time she would sass him with "Oh really?", every time she would say her signature line "Allah miya," he felt himself smile. He was able to forget about all his problems. He looked forward to their bickering. It was the highlight of his day.
But he had already hurt her so much. Every time her eyes teared because of him, his heart's cracks grew a little. He felt horrible. But because he was challenged, as she called him, he couldn't bring himself to apologize the way she truly deserved.
He'd made up his mind. He would learn to live without her. He would learn to not care. He would keep his distance, and try his best to not yell at her.
No sooner had Asad made this decision, that someone started banging on his door.
* * * * * * * * * *
"Mr. Khan, darwaaza kholiye! Mr. Khan I know you're in there. Darwaaza kholiye nahin toh," she hesitated, racking her brain for an idea. Light bulb! "Nahin toh mein aapke sofe pe char jaungi."
No response.
"Mr. Khan agar aapne darwaaza nahin khola, toh mein, toh mein, New York chali jaungi!" yelled a frustrated Zoya.
The door swung open and Asad pulled her into his embrace, tightly. Zoya was taken aback by his sudden reaction. She thought he'd open the door, irritated, and reprimand her. She never expected him to do this. Her eyes wide, she looked left and right, she tried to take a peek at him, and slowly gave in. She could hear his heavy breathing, and instinctively wrapped her arms around his toned torso and rubbed his back soothingly.
Feeling her arms around him, Asad snapped back to reality, and started to pull away. He looked down, embarrassed at his impulsive behaviour. He was acting like, like her.
Immediately, Zoya felt a dull ache at his sudden withdrawal. But she ignored it. She had more important things to deal with at this moment. And his reaction merely confirmed what she suspected.
He too, felt something for her.
"Mr. Khan, aapne ab tak mere sawaal ka jawaab nahin diya hai," accused a determined Zoya.
Asad lifted his gaze a little, and looked at her. Seeing the determination in her eyes, his resolve weakened another inkling. But Asad stood firm.
"Jawaab to aapne bhi nahin diya, Ms. Farooqui," he retorted, childishly.
And that's when Zoya lost it.
"Aapko aapke sawal ka jawaab chaiye, Mr. Khan? Theek hai. Toh sunie. Mein, mein aapse sagaai karna chati hoon."
Asad's eyes shot up to look at her. He was stunned. Her words rung in his ears. She, she wanted it?
"Jee, Mr. Khan. Mein nahin maanti ki woh sab jo aapne airport pe kiya ek drama tha. Mein itni kush sirf iss liye nahin thi ki aapne mujhe roka," she saw his eyes widen even more as her words sunk in, "balki iss liye bhi, ki aapne humein aapna liya tha," she finished in a small voice.
Asad felt his heart leap out of his chest. What was she saying? No, no, no, this wasn't supposed to happen. He was supposed to drive her away. He was supposed to keep his distance. He fisted his hands, trying his hardest to control his emotions. He wanted to hug her, to tell her it was true. That it wasn't a drama. But as always, his mind won out in the battle with his heart. And he remained mum.
Zoya took a step toward him, but he mirrored her step, and took one backwards.
"Mr. Khan," Zoya managed. Her eyes had moistened, as she said what she felt aloud, for the first time. "Mein jaanti hoon, Mr. Khan. Aapke liye bhi, woh sab, sab sach tha. Boliye na, Mr. Khan. Woh sab sach tha, na? Aapne jhoot bola na? Jab aapne kaha ki woh sab ek drama tha?" Zoya's tears threatened to spill out, as she became bolder. "Boliye na, Mr. Khan. Please," she begged, as she took another step.
But Asad remained mum, and once again took another step back. Now they were just inside his room. He hated that she was crying. He wanted to wipe her tears. But his mind stopped him, his heart too weak.
"Woh, actually... Ms. Farooqui.. aap, aap galat samaj rahi hai," started Asad. "Meine aapse, kaha na," he continued, his frustration coming out. "Meine woh sab sirf Ammi ke kehne pe kiya," he tried, desperately wanting to end this conversation here and now.
"Jhoot!" she screamed!
Asad was startled by her tone. Zoya had had it. How much longer would he deny his feelings? And why? Why was he denying them, even after she told him, that she felt the same for him?
He stared at her, wide eyed, trying to figure out a way to get out of his current predicament. He closed his eyes, as he prepared to do what he hated most. Hurt her.
"Ms. Farooqui, agar aapke kaan theek se kaam nahin karte, to iss mein meri koi galati nahin hai. Meine aapse kaha tha ki woh sab nakli tha. And I'm sticking to it." he finished, his anger melting, as he noticed her tears spill out and stream down her cheeks.
"Aaj nahin, Mr. Khan," said Zoya, her voice watery. "Aaj aap mujhe confuse nahin karenge. Meine aapki aankhon mein dekha hai. Aapke aakhon mein dikhta hai, jo hamare liye aapke dil mein hai. Jo aapke aap aapni zubaan par nahin aane dete. Aur mein ab tak nahin samji kyun. Kiska dar hai aapko? Kis baat se dikhat hai? Mujhse? Kya mein itni buri hoon, Mr. Khan?" Zoya was softly sobbing at this point. Was she wrong? Did she see something that wasn't there in his eyes? No, she knew what she saw. She'd seem concern. She'd seen care. She'd even seen, dare she say it, love. What was he so afraid of? Why did he refuse to allow his heart rule his mind, just once in his life?
Asad balled his fists as he heard her sobs. There. He did it again. He hurt her. But still she didn't back down. Why was this girl so stubborn? He closed his eyes. His mind was losing. His heart was screaming at him again.
Tell her, tell her the truth. Tell her you want her. Tell her, that you love her. TELL HER!
Asad closed his eyes tighter, shaking his head, as if trying to get rid of an annoying ringing.
No! You'll hurt her! You already did! You have to stay away! For her sake! Don't tell her! Lie! Lie! LIE!, his mind screamed back.
His eyes moistened, as his confusion and frustration grew. His inner battle was now taking it's toll, and soon, only one of them would win out in the end. Either his heart, or his mind.
But her words stung his heart the most. She thought it was her. She thought he was taking pity on her. He wasn't! How he wanted to tell her, that it wasn't pity! It was the farthest thing!
Zoya noticed his hesitation. She noticed the play of emotions in his eyes before he shut them. She noticed the tear the rolled down his chiseled cheek. He was fighting them. He was fighting his feelings, and she had no idea why. Why did he feel hurting her was better?
"Mujhe koi idea nahin tha, ki Mr. Khan ke kharoos behaviour ke peeche, itna daard chipa hai."
Zoya blinked. He was doing it again. Of course! Mr. Khan apna daard chupane ki koshish kar rahe hain. Lekin... aise kaunsa daard hai? What is he trying to hide?
Zoya walked up to him. Having his eyes closed, he didn't notice when she was closer to him, until he felt her soft fingers on his face. His eyes opened slowly, and Zoya's heart broke, as she gazed into them. His eyes were blood shot, and full of confusion.
"Mr. Khan, mein aapko inn 6 meine mein jaan chuki hoon. Aur mein achi tara jaanti hoon, ki aap jaab bhi koi baat ka samla nahin karna chate hain, to aap usse gusse se chupa de the hai." Asad's eyes widened. How did she know him so well...
"Aapko kis baat ka daar hai, Mr. Khan? Kis baat ka dukh? Ki aap mujhe chot poncha henge? Ki aap mujhe rula denge? Aapne yeh kabhi socha hai, ki mujhe aason iss liye aate hain, kyunki aap mujhe aapne aapse door karna chate hain? Kabhi bhi yeh jaan ke ki koshish ki, ki akhir mein kya chati hoon?" she asked, her voice cracking. She was breaking through his armor. Little by little, she saw the confusion in his eyes give way to resolve, to understanding.
That was the moment Asad knew he couldn't live without her. He couldn't do it anymore. He had no more strength to push her away. Not anymore. Not after tonight.
He looked into her eyes, his mind and heart finally made up as one. He gently wiped her tears, and took her hands in his.
"Zoya..."
She smiled through her tears, as she noticed his increasing. How she loved hearing him say her name. The way the Z rolled off of his tongue made her knees go weak, and her mind a mess. She felt unique. She felt as if he had a right on her, when he said her name. A right, no one ever did.
Asad wrapped his arms around her, and held her tightly, once again.
"Mujhe... mujhe iss baat ka dar hai, ki kahin mein aapko, wahi dukh na de behtoon, yo Mr. Rashid-" but he couldn't finish as Zoya had broken the hug and put her palm on his lips.
"Aap apne abbu nahin hai, Mr. Khan," insisted Zoya. "Aap yeh baat kab samaj jaenge? Agar aap wahi galati karne jaate, to kya aap mujhe New York nahin jaane dete? Kya aap mujhe Mangalpur mein bacha dete? Agar aap apne abbu hote, to kya aaj aap apne aapse larte the hote? Meri jasbhaaton ko lekar itna pareshan hote?" She looked deep into his eyes, watching as he let her words sink in. Yes, she thought. I will do it. I will make him see. I'll make him see what a wonderful man he truly is.
"Agar aap apne abbu hote, to kya aap apni Ammi aur Najma ka ifaazat kar pate? Agar aap apne abbu hote," Zoya continued, feeling her voice crack, and muddled from her tears and the lump in her throat,"toh kya aap apne bhai ka saath chor dete?"
Asad closed his eyes. He was the man of the house. He was an older brother. He may have lost his father, he may have been afraid to repeat his mistakes, but Zoya was right. He wasn't his father. He didn't run away from his responsibilities. He didn't let Zoya die. He cringed at the memory. He didn't abandon his brother. She was right. Zoya was so right. He wasn't his father. And the only reason he'd hurt Zoya, was because he was pushing her away.
What a fool I've been! Maybe, maybe I can make her happy. Maybe I can change my fate and prove I'm not his son.
More tears streamed down his face, as his heart finally, finally allowed him to express what he'd been suppressing in it for months. Those words, that almost tumbled out of his mouth when he thought he'd lost her at the airport. Those words, that he wanted to say to her when she asked him what the engagement meant to him.
"I- I love you, Zoya. Mein tumse mohabbat karta hoon. Tumne sahi kaha. Woh sagaai, woh sab, sab sach tha. Koi drama nahin tha. Mein tumhare bina, jee nahin sakhta. Please, please mujhe chorkar maat jana. Kabhi nahin. Kabhi bhi nahin," he finished, holding her hands in his, as he poured his heart out to her.
Zoya felt her heart soar. She did it. She was able to make him admit his feelings. And the best part, was that her happiness had nothing to do with winning. Her smile's only reason, were his words. She smiled even bigger, and her tears streamed down her cheeks, increasing by the second. But she didn't mind them. For they were tears of joy.
"Mein vaada karti hoon, Mr. Khan," she brought their entwined hands to his heart, and placed her hand on his cheek, wiping away his tears. "Mein aapka saath kabhi nahin chorungi. Aapne mujhe ek parivaar diya hai. Ek Ammi, ek behen, aur..." She looked down, shy all of a sudden. "Aur mohabbat. I love you, too, Asad..."
Asad felt his heart beat a thousand times per second. She loves me... woh, woh mujhese mohabbat karti hai. Ya Allah, aapka lakh lakh shukar hai, ki aapne Zoya jaisi roshni meri zindagi mei bheja. He wiped her tears with his free hand, and cupped her face. He took her in for an embrace, her head resting on his chest, one of his arms around her waist, and the other on her head, protectively.
He thanked Allah over and over again. Asad Ahmed Khan had finally allowed himself to feel. He had finally allowed himself to be happy. He had finally allowed himself to think with his heart.
A/N:
I really dunno know what I just wrote 😆 Chappals tomatoes all welcome. But if you want to throw shoes, then please, only Manolo Blahnik 😆
Comment and likes GREATLY appreciated
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