Zindagi Ne Pehni Hai Muskaan, Karne Lagi Hai, Itna Karam Kyun Na Jaane
Chapter 70
"Phuphi? What's happened to Zoya bhabhi?" An anxious Humaira inquired of Dilshad the next morning.
Dilshad looked at her apprehensively. Her heart wrenched painfully as she remembered how, not so long ago, she had pledged with Badi bi that they wouldn't let the evils of the past haunt the kids' lives. The children had shown the grown ups the road to redemption and reconciliation. Why then, were they meant to bear fate's cruelest jabs? However, she also dreaded the truth coming out for Rashid's sake. It would crush him when he found out about the identity of the corpse found in the factory. But at the same time, she couldn't be grateful enough for Asad and Zoya's magnanimity. How could neither resent Rashid or Humaira? Her eyes teared.
By god's infinite grace, they had become each other's strength and inspiration. And couldn't we all learn from their example?
"Is everything OK?" Humaira continued worriedly.
With Phuphi taking so long to respond, Humaira's blood curdled even more. Oh god, don't let anything be wrong with Zoya bhabhi! What if it was all her fault? What if something had happened to Bhabhi when she was donating blood that day? An infected needle? What if it was the baby?
"Kyun beta? Why do you ask?" Dilshad hedged, as she handed her the plates and cutlery.
Humaira frowned in concentration, her hands gripping the silverware tightly. She was almost in tears.
"Something has happened. I just know it," she whispered bleakly, dying to know what was wrong, but terrified of hearing the answer.
She was helping set the table for breakfast. "Usually she's up and about by now. And then since yesterday she's been so down. I know she's been crying. She's OK na, Phuphi?"
"She must be missing Anwar," said Aapi, coming down the stairs.
"Yes. But I also know that it's something else. Please tell me. I can't bear to see her like this." By now tears had begun to fall from her frightened eyes.
Dilshad and Zeenat looked at one another. Then Dilshad cleared her throat as she made an instant decision. Humaira's tears confirmed her resolve. The grown ups had done the damage. It was time to let the children take over and blaze the path to healing. Zeenat didn't even know about this girl's relation to Zoya. But blood was talking and making its own way. She would let it.
Dilshad wiped Humaira's tears, and stroked her face gently, "umm ... beta ... actually she lost a very dear relative ... that's why."
Humaira gasped. "Who?" she whispered, aghast.
"Her mother's ..." Zeenat wiped her eyes, and taking the cue from Dilshad, whispered, " her sister."
Dilshad embraced Zeenat sideways. Asad came out from their room just then. Humaira leaped toward him.
"Bhaijaan, how's Zoya bhabhi doing now?" Her eyes were wide with worry. With a pang he realized that when she wrung her hands like that, she looked so much like Zoya.
He looked up from Humaira to his mother, thrown off-balance by her moist eyes and deep concern. Dilshad nodded reassuringly. Don't push her away, she telegraphed to him.
"Ah ... umm ... she's just a little tired."
"Is she up? I'll get her some coffee," Humaira offered, and dashed to the kitchen when he nodded yes.
"Can I get some herbal tea instead?" piped up Zoya, her voice buoyant and animated. Dilshad's heart sloshed with maternal pride.
Everyone turned to look at her in surprise. Fresh from a shower, Zoya glowed and beamed. Humaira couldn't help herself. She ran and hugged her with one arm.
"Are you OK Bhabhi?" She asked anxiously. "I'm so sorry about your aunt."
Zeenat nearly staggered, blinded by pain. Dilshad held and patted her arm. They looked in alarm at Zoya. Asad sprang behind her, ready to take her in his arms, if she flew apart.
Zoya's eyes teared and smile dipped, but she gratefully enveloped Humaira in a bear hug.
"I'm fine, thank you," she said softly.
Humaira led her to the couch. "You sit here and don't move. I'll get you tea and whatever else you need." She fussed.
And everyone let her. Trust them, Dilshad seemed to signal Zeenat.
"I can whip up an omelet for you if you want? With spinach and capsicum," Humaira continued.
Zoya paled and made a moue. "Not now. Just some plain toast, thanks."
Humaira skipped to the kitchen, while Zeenat came to feel Zoya's forehead and pulse. "Tum theek ho?"
Asad looked on indulgently. He had already done a similar panicky inspection earlier in their room.
"Haan Aapi. Hundred percent! I promise."
He grinned. He'd been rewarded with a much more amorous response. She had wrapped her arms around his neck and tilted her head back coquettishly, "I'm fine. But I'd be finer if ..."
"If?"
"Oh really? I've to spell it out for you now?"
"You'll rest today!"
"F-U"-"
"ZOYAA!" he hollered in alarm.
"What? I was going to say, F-U-N, fun! You have a one-track mind Jahanpanah!"
"R-E-S-T! Doctor's orders," Asad said in exasperation.
"What doctor?"
"Dr. Asad Ahmed Khan!" He teased, reminding her of their last evening in Agra.
"Asad!" she'd protested at his tormenting of her and wiggled against him.
"Are you sure?"
"Humph! Here I am offering myself to you on a platter, aur aap hain ki haan-na kar rahen hain. Forget about it!"
And she stood up in bed ready to leap off in a huff.
"Zoya! Always the drama queen! I'm just worried about you," he said gently, trying to pacify her as he pulled her back. Her head landed on her pillow and he stroked her jaw and lips with his thumb.
"I don't want you to fake being cheerful for all of us. Just rest and take it easy."
"I'm not faking, and I don't feel like taking it easy!" she'd exclaimed stubbornly, plump lips pouting.
"Zoya, please! It was a rough day for you yesterday. Why do you think I've taken the day off? You're not leaving this bed. You'll rest even if I have to stand guard over you."
"Asad, I promise I'm fine. And I'd rather have my body made love to, than have you stand guard over me. What a waste! You may as well go to work then!"
"Always arguing! Why do you never listen to me?" he'd growled.
"I'm sorry. I didn't realize I was such a pain." She slid back into bed and covered her face with the rajai.
And sniffed.
"Annhhh! I give up!" he'd roared and stomped off toward the bathroom. And then she sniffed some more.
His head fell back and he groaned. The woman had him completely wrapped around her little finger.
"Zoya, don't cry." He sat by the bed's side. "The whole point was to take care of you and keep you happy!"
He had sneaked into the rajai and tickled her till she giggled. The tickling and giggling had soon turned to kissing and sighing, and much more. The covers were kicked off and she emerged later, cheeks rosy and eyes radiant.
"If you had listened to me at the start, we wouldn't have wasted so much time," she had pouted after a vigorous, albeit muffled session of make-up s*ex.
"I'm always wrong, it looks like," he'd grumbled as he got out to go shower.
Zoya had clutched his hand. "No, Asad! Don't you see, I really am fine? Everything's fine. Because you made it right."
She patted the bed next to her, "hold me."
He sat back and leaned against the headboard. She snuggled into his lap. Asad had nuzzled her neck as she played with his fingers.
"You know what? I realized this yesterday. Yes, it was a rough day, probably one of the hardest days in my life, but you were there for me, you took care of me. Ammi, Aapi and Jeeju were with me, thanks to you."
Her eyes filled. "And finally Ammi has a resting place that I can visit and offer chaadars, flowers and prayers at." Zoya kissed his knuckles.
Asad crushed her in his arms and buried his face in the crook of her neck. "Oh god Zoya! I keep thinking of my terrible words to you about your Ammi! How can you ever forgive me?"
"Asad! Stop it, you stop it right now!" She kissed his temple and hugged him fiercely.
"That was a lifetime ago. Look at your actions now! Don't actions speak louder than words?" She sat back and kissed him hard to punish him for even thinking such thoughts.
"I have you! Jeeju understood this too. He said so to me at the airport. So please stop torturing yourself about what you may have said, hmm?" She held his face and gazed steadily at him.
"OK?"
"OK."
And she went back to talking about her recent epiphanies and his rightness, as though nothing had happened. Asad brushed her hair back and tucked it behind an ear. He loved how she rode the roller coaster of her life squealing with joy, and avidly anticipating every giddy turn, arms open wide, head thrown back. Sure, there were tears along the way. But in her book, they just made the dips and crests that much more fun!
"You know, I was listening to the recording again." Zoya thumbed his stubble. "Ammi was humming that song, Aane wala pal, jaane wala hai,' and it felt like a sign."
"I loved it when you sang that song that day. But it also broke my heart." Asad breathed in her ear.
"Shh," she put her finger on his lips to shush him, and smiled contentedly.
"I love that you'll be home with me today, but please stop worrying about me. I really am fine."
Asad recalled that yesterday Ammi had said the same thing as Jeeju. Zoya really was going to be OK.
"You're sure?"
When she nodded eagerly, he'd hugged her tight, "then let me spoil you today. At least listen to me on that."
"Allah miyan, what is wrong you Mr. Khan? What else have I been trying to tell you to do since this morning!"
Humaira brought him his coffee and Zoya's toast, and Asad snapped back to the present.
"Bhaijaan, Phuphi's asking if you'll take lunch from home today."
"I won't be going Ammi," said Asad, taking a sip of his coffee. "I've moved my meetings and site visits. Most of the other work I can take care of from home." he elaborated, as he settled down to read the newspaper.
"Great," said Dilshad. "In fact you should do that once every week."
"And here's your tea Bhabhi. What should we do today? Watch a movie? Bake a cake? With chocolate icing?"
"Yes!" squealed Zoya, and recited a sher that had made Mr. Khan roll his eyes a long time ago:
Baaton mein ho mithas, toh lagta hai banda nek,
Baaton mein ho mithas toh lagta hai banda nek,
Karvi baatein bhool jayen, have some chocolate cake!
Asad nearly choked on his coffee. He did remember that sher. And he also remembered what had happened after.
The last time his wife had attempted a cake with chocolate icing, she had misplaced the sauce, and he had ended up knuckle-deep in it. And been mad as hell about it too.
Zoya grinned smugly as he coughed. Oh really, Mr. Khan? So you do remember! May be she should make some extra chocolate sauce today? Just for some Jahanpanah loving. She nodded excitedly to Humaira as she took a sip of her tea.
Humaira was suggesting more activities, "would you like me to paint your toenails? Nail art?"
"Umm hmm ..." Zoya took another sip. "But make sure you leave the smallest ones unpainted."
"Why?"
"Because, I'm going to do them later," said Zoya with a sly look at her husband, an eyebrow arched. Asad blushed, face behind the paper. He had said that he'd spoil her after all. Just yesterday those toes had tortured him. Payback would be sweet. Just like that chocolate sauce.
He saw Aapi furtively wipe an eye. Setting the paper aside, he went up to her and put a comforting arm around her.
"Aapi?"
She looked up. "It'll be OK. After all, you've known her longer, and must have heard Zoya Farooqui kuchh bhi kar sakti hai,' at least a thousand times more than me!"
Zeenat smiled fully for the first time today. Asad squeezed her shoulder, "she's really going to be fine."
After lunch and wrapping up most of his work, Asad contacted Rakesh. Things had been a little too quiet on the Tanveer front. He didn't trust her. What if she was planning something major? After all she was still in town. He mentally scanned down his checklist:
They'd constantly been in touch with Najma and Omar.
Humaira was safe at home.
Ayaan under his watchful eye at work.
Everyone else fine at the other house.
So far there was nothing to worry about. But knowing her, he didn't want to sit back and wait for her next diabolical move. And it would come. Of that he was dead sure.
He'd been played a sucker once. Never again.
"What has she been up to? What information have you been able to squeeze out from those men who shot at Humaira?"
He was pleased to hear about the added details for the charge sheet being prepared on her.
"But she's not going out much," reported Rakesh. "Just to her doctor and then back to the Siddiqui house."
Asad listened, his mind restlessly anticipating all possibilities of attack from her.
"It may be because there are some issues with her health. We were able to peek into her medical records at the clinic. Besides some other recent injuries, the doctor has noted higher than normal levels of Plasma protein A in her bloodwork. Our research shows that this may complicate her pregnancy."
Asad sucked in his breath. He felt terrible. Although Tanveer had been a thorn in their flesh and had endangered many loved one's lives, he didn't wish the baby any ill. In fact, he had been a lot more merciful to her precisely because she was pregnant. After her vengeful attack on Zoya, he had come very close to having her hauled away for permanent jail time where she'd rot away for the rest of her life. That she'd been let off with just a slap on her wrist, was due to his steely self-restraint. And Zoya's unparalleled spirit. Only her pregnancy had saved her.
He prayed.
Tanveer was reeling. The doctor had called her to come in for more tests. Dr. Jain had seemed somber when she'd gone for her check-up earlier in the week. Something was wrong. She was sure of it. The doctor had already scolded her for her carelessness in not attending to the head injury. She had shown concussion-like symptoms over the past few days: nausea, headaches, blurred vision, fuzzy mental faculties. It could be bad for the baby, she had reprimanded.
"Do you know that recent studies show that victims of head trauma have higher chances of Alzheimer's later in life? Tanveer, you have to be more careful about your health," she had said.
"I'm ordering some tests to check your Amyloid levels. High levels will mean bad news."
Tanveer came out of the bathroom wiping her face in a towel. Hatred for Razia bloomed up in her. If anything happened to the baby, that woman would be responsible, and she would kill her with her bare hands.
She flung the towel away and tried the numbers of those hired men again.
And again.
She paced up and down. She had instructed them to deliberately miss that time. Now, if anything happened to her baby, she would make sure that the daughter paid for her mother's sins. As gruesomely as possible.
Tanu tossed the phone away in frustration. Damn idiots! Where were they? Had the police really nabbed them? She better find new lackeys, and soon. But it was getting harder day by day. Her back and feet hurt. And now these concussion-induced signs made her want to stay in bed all day long.
The house was feeling oppressive too. Her self-righteous prig of father had supposedly returned early from his out-of-town trip. But she was reluctant to talk to him about all that had transpired in his absence. It would mean bringing up the attack on Humaira. The old man obviously didn't know anything. Razia bi had hidden that detail from her husband. And here the old man was eagerly planning family outings for some sisterly bonding! Hah! She just needed to find out where her precious little sister was holed up. She knew that Humaira was not with Rashid and family despite what Mr. Siddiqui thought. She had called under the pretense of being a college friend. Then where was she? Back with that Aunt in Indore? Everyone was being too tight-lipped about sister dear.
Never mind!
She'd gnaw it out somehow. She always did land on her feet.
Nikhat and Nuzzhat were here too. They were all caught up with the honeymooners. The reception at the houseboat had been fuzzy. Or so Najma claimed!
Omar had been AWOL. "He's in the loo," gasped Najma.
Yeah right!
The cake was half demolished. Pizzas delivered and devoured. Ayaan had put in a surprise appearance. He strutted in, flirted outrageously with Humaira, pulled Nuzzhat's hair, was swatted by Zoya and begged Nikhat for a champi. He had left very reluctantly, only when bhaijaan had crossed his arms and glared at him.
"But bhai, why can't I work from home like you?"
"Sure! Go work from your home."
The girls had guffawed, and Ayaan had gone red in the face. But Zoya had felt bad for him and Humaira.
Mr. Khan!" she'd chided her husband. Don't make him look bad in front of Humaira, she begged silently. Please! But Akdu Ahmed Khan didn't budge. Ayaan was seen off at the door by the all the women.
Asad had rolled his eyes.
That's exactly why Ayaan would never grow up, he muttered. Even in the office, he was managing to charm his way out of hard work. Too much giggling and nonsense shaayari bounced off the walls. Now homemade food was being shipped in by the truckloads. The whole place reeked after lunch.
Nails were painted and re-painted, nail art practiced. Najma's supplies had been raided to add more flair. Zoya was even dispatched to beguile Mr. Khan out of his collection of fine-tipped sharpies and whitening pens. Dilshad and Zeenat too had succumbed to forced manis and pedis.
Next up, it was rounds of Antakshari and Charades. Dilshad and Aapi had been dragged in to participate in this too. It was as if the melancholy from yesterday had to be laughed and sung out of the house.
The girls raucously bellowed when Aapi struggled with enacting a movie that was making her blush with embarrassment.
Zeenat frowned and scowled at the girls. "Tum ladkiyaan bahut badtameez ho!" she scolded.
"Bhabhi, you show her how to do it," crowed Nuzzhat, and Zoya turned a dull shade of pomegranate red.
But never one to bow out of a challenge, she dragged Nuzzhat by her hand and made her stand in the center of the room. Then Zoya amorously wrapped a leg around her and embraced her, pressing her body against hers.
"Khajuraho," someone yelled. Nuzzhat was apopletic with laughter.
"There's no such movie," giggled Humaira.
Zoya had continued to wiggle and tighten her leg around a now mortified Nuzzhat. Zoya waggled her brows and shook her head side to side like a demented Bharatnatyam dancer.
"Kamasutra!" everyone yelled. And they all broke into peals of bawdy laughter. Nuzzhat was on floor, snorting and wheezing.
And just like that, everyone began teasing Nikhat about Omar's cousin. He was as serious as Omar was incorrigible. What a perfect jodi!
"Aankhon hi aankhon mein baatein hongi," Zoya teased.
"Aankhon hi aankhon mein ishara ho gaya, baithe, baithe jeene ka sahara ho gaya," sang Dilshad.
"Chup-chup khade ho, zaroor koi baat hai," rapped Aapi.
"Pehli mulakaat hai ji pehli mulakaat hai," they sang together.
The girls were mesmerized. They had never heard these songs. But Dilshad and Zeenat's oldies dance to them looked so charming and cute!
"Another sister lost to the US? Not fair!" groused Nuzzhat later.
"Stop it you all," blushed Nikhat.
"Just think, they'll find you a pardesi boy too," Humaira teased Nuzzhat.
"And then you can act out Kamasutra, Amreekan version!" Zoya laughed till she was breathless as Nuzzhat pelted her with cushions.
"I'm not getting married outside of India. No way! The guy had better be in Bhopal."
"I'll ask Raabert to ask around in Mr. Khan's office, OK?" ribbed Zoya.
"Then Chhoti Ammi can double the steel lunch boxes!"
The hoots just never ended.
"I'll make tea," Dilshad rose a little later.
"No, Badi Ammi, I'll do it," Nikhat tugged her down and went off to the kitchen.
Zoya suddenly broke into a face-splitting yawn.
Aapi patted her knee, "you look exhausted. Go get some rest."
Humaira jumped up, "yeah, Zoya bhabhi. Please get some rest."
"You need rest too, Humaira. Did you have this morning's medicine?"
"Yes I did and I'm fine. You go."
Asad was at his laptop in the room. All afternoon long, he had heard the chatting, laughing and singing, and his heart had warmed. There was even a loud roar. Kamasutra? Had he heard right? What the hell was happening in there? There was a time when he would have found all of this absolutely unacceptable. Which is why Najma never had her friends over. But now, it meant that all was right with the world.
He looked up too see her pale face. Asad shot up to get to Zoya's side to feel her forehead and pulse.
"I told you not to overdo it! Why did you have to be so manic? You never listen. Look how pale and worn out you look," he hovered and scolded.
She didn't have the energy to argue with him. She was feeling too tired.
"Go change and get into bed," he ordered. "I'm not listening to another word. If you're good, I'll even take you out tonight."
For once she didn't put up a fight and obeyed him quietly. He drew the curtains and picked up his laptop to go to the living room.
"Asad?" Her voice sounded soft, beaten.
"What?" He rushed over.
"Stay with me. And you don't need to draw the curtains. Just sit by me and work on the bed."
Her energy seemed to be draining by the minute. He frowned. As he stretched out on the bed, legs crossed at the ankle, and leaned back against the headboard, she scooched over to rest her head by his thigh.
"Paint my nails later?"
"Umm hmm," he couldn't resist stroking her cheek.
Within minutes she was fast asleep.
______________________________________________
Song in Title:
Agneepath (2012): "O Saiyaan"
comment:
p_commentcount