ASYA FF: Prem Kahani Hai Mushkil (Updated Ch. 130 Page 90 Oct. 11) - Page 6

Na Hai Koi Hal, Dilon Ki Mushkil Ka

Chapter 13 

On the drive back toward Bhopal, even Najma noticed Tanu being moody. "Aap bhaijaan ko miss kar rahin hain na?" She asked sweetly. 

Dilshad noticed Tanu's fake smile. She looked over at Zoya's lowered lashes as she swiftly turned her face away. She noted her clenched hands and bowed head, and her heart ached for Zoya. She wanted to stroke her head and comfort her: everything's going to be OK. I'll take care of it, she wanted to say. 

She turned to look at Tanu and grimaced. Dilshad thought of how Tanu had refused to eat anything at breakfast opting only for dry toast and weak tea. In fact that had been her diet for some time now. 

"It couldn't be. Such signs so early? I have to move fast."

The trip home felt long, but was uneventful. Mostly everyone slept due to sheer exhaustion. 

Zoya had watched the video of Mr. Khan wanting her to stay back so many times, that her phone and iPad were draining rapidly. 

Stop it! Stop tormenting yourself. Just delete this. Cut the cord, will you? 

Her finger hovered to make a clean surgical cut. 

But she couldn't do it. May be she'd do it tomorrow. One more look. 

She sneaked peeks at the pictures Phuphi had taken in Sikandra. She loved this shot of him with his head thrown back laughing at Ayaan's discomfort. But she felt a pang when she saw the photos of Mr. Khan with Najma, Tanu and Ayaan at Chokhidani. 

She was an outsider. These four would be in many other photographs. Weddings ... family portraits ... babies ... 

Zoya nearly gagged with the pain that coursed through her. Her eyes stung. She would never be a part of the family that she'd irrevocably fallen in love with. 

"I better start thinking of flying back home. When we reach Bhopal I'll call a travel agent to get my tickets booked. I can tell Phuphi and Najma that I have to leave early because my visa is expiring. Thank god, I've already bought gifts for everyone from Chokhidani and Agra." 

She hadn't known what to get Mr. Khan though. She had traced her fingers over a miniature sculpture of the Taj, but then removed them quickly as if burned by the stone. 

Stupid idiot! Don't you dare! 

Zoya had finally decided on a simple photo frame. She'd have the picture of all four of them printed up in sepia and give him that. No, probably just leave it on his table. She may never be able to look at, or be near him. She'd made a big enough fool of herself already.

They reached home in the late afternoon, and everyone left to freshen up and rest. 

In the evening, Dilshad knocked on Tanu's door. After initial pleasantries, she told Tanu what Asad had told her in Jaipur. 

Tanu, shocked and shamed, hid her face in her hands and began to cry. "I'm sorry khaala, I know you must be upset. But Jammy is so kind and upright that he immediately proposed to me."

Dilshad said firmly, "Tanu, I've decided that in light of everything that's happened, we should go to my doctor and have you examined. If you aren't pregnant, then we need not go through with this wedding since neither of you are in love with each other. I just want what's best for my son. We'll go a week from now to fully confirm since it may still be too early."

Tanu was surprised at Khala's openness and smarts. Mentally she knew that this was the perfect opportunity to pass off her pregnancy as Asad's fault, but she didn't like the idea of going to Khala's doctor. And why wait for a week? The sooner they all got the good news, the better! 

"I understand Khala and I agree. But we can go to a doctor that I've been visiting already for when I sprained my ankle. In fact we can get an appointment tomorrow itself."

Dilshad hated Tanu's eagerness. It made her even more suspicious. 

"No, I've already fixed an appointment with my doctor. I'll just ask them to reschedule it for tomorrow."

Seeing that she had no way to wiggle out of an appointment with khala's doctor, Tanu agreed graciously. 

"I'll just have to put on a darned good show tomorrow," she thought to herself.

Dinner was a quiet affair. Najma was the only one who was talking about the trip: the shopping, food and the historic places. 

Asad looked at her indulgently. He'd rushed back home today from work.

Even Najma stopped mid-way, surprised that her Bhaijaan didn't tell her to eat quietly.

"Wasn't the Rajasthani food yummy, Zoya?"

Zoya nodded.

Asad sneaked a look at Zoya from under his lashes. She had stopped eating her food with as much relish as she used to. Sometimes, just the way she threw her head back, closed her eyes, and moaned softly when eating kachoris or pizza, or Ammi's phirni, was enough to make him hard. He forced himself to look at Tanu who looked immensely pleased with herself. 

His mood soured. 

Najma started chattering about the wedding functions, not noticing the change in Asad's expression. He looked up sharply at Zoya. Once again she was using her hair to hide her face. But he could see her hand gripping the fork by her plate. She was stabbing her thumb pad with its tines. He nearly shot out of his chair. Asad felt trapped. And helpless. 

Zoya, please!

Clearing his throat, he called out, "umm, Ms. Farooqui?" 

She raised startled eyes to search his face. 

"Could you please pass me the salt?"

"Sure," she whispered, almost harshly. 

Biting her lips, she did as he asked. She passed the salt shaker to Najma. He lowered his gaze apologetically, unable to bear the flash of pain and hope in her eyes. But at least she had unwrapped her fingers from the fork. He looked at Najma. She now talked of dieting so that she could fit into the new style lehengas. 

Tanu intervened, "Najma, I can help design a dress for you that hides some of your flab and makes you look slimmer." 

Najma's face fell. 

Asad frowned and looked away, not wanting to correct Tanu for being so insensitive to his baby sister. How could he have missed this? He wondered how he never had any such qualms about shouting at Zoya publicly, even though she'd never said anything so hurtful. In fact she had always rushed in to defend Najma or Ammi or take the blame on herself. 

He could kick himself for not noticing those things earlier.

"Zoya, will you help me with some fitness training so that I can lose weight more quickly?" 

Zoya nodded, not wanting to share as yet her plans for leaving. 

She reassured Najma, "yes, we can start tomorrow, but Tamtatar you don't need to lose weight. You are gorgeous the way you are. Girls would kill for those curves." 

Najma's smile sparkled, and Asad looked up at Zoya gratefully. 

But she was still talking animatedly to Najma, "we can do some stretches and then go for a walk or a run, but it's too hot outside. Yoga? Have you tried Zumba? It's such fun! You'll love it. Or, you know what? We can just put some music on and dance. That'll be more fun." 

Najma was completely diverted now. 

Dilshad looked at Zoya with new respect and her heart felt full as her resolve hardened. Please Allah, help me find a way to make this girl my bahu.

The urgency was real. 

Just before dinner Zoya had smiled too wide and thanked her for the trip. "I'll always cherish these moments with you all, Phuphi," she had said. 

And Dilshad knew. Zoya was bidding farewell.  

The next day, right after Mr. Khan left for work, loud music could be heard coming from the Khan Villa. 

"Badtameez Dil," "Dreamum Wakeupam," and "Balam Pichkari" kept being replayed while Zoya and Najma danced up a storm. 

Zoya felt light-hearted as she wiped her dripping face with a hand towel. 

Najma lay, nearly passed out but grinning, on the floor. "Oh Zoya, that was such fun. We have to do this everyday," she panted.

"You know what we should do next," said Zoya. "A quick shower and then manis and pedis for each other."

"Yay," squealed Najma. "I love you Zoya," she sighed with contentment. "I wish you could stay with us forever." 

She didn't see Zoya hide her face in her towel.

At the clinic, the doctor told Dilshad that the results showed that Tanu was indeed pregnant. Before Dilshad could ask more questions, Tanu complained of a headache and tiredness, and announced that she wanted to go home immediately. 

In her rush to put on a good show, she missed the look that passed between khaala and the doctor. 

Back in the car, while she faked exhaustion and dozed, Tanu congratulated herself in preventing Khala from asking questions about how far along she was. 

"Now she'll have to agree to the nikaah," she silently celebrated peering at Dilshad's somber face slyly. 

Song in Title:

Salaam-e-Ishaq (2007): "Ya Rabba"

Raah Pe Kante Bikhre Agar, Uspe Toh Phir Bhi Chalna Hi Hai

After a long bath, Najma felt too sleepy and tired for a mani-pedi session, so she promised to do so after a long nap. It was summer break after all, and it was meant to catch up on one's beauty sleep. 

This gave Zoya some time to call around for tickets to NY. Unfortunately, the earliest flight was 19 days from today. She finalized the tickets, making sure that they would not be couriered to this address. She assured them that she would come to pick them up personally. 

She re-watched the video of Mr. Khan saying "mat jao Zoya," and wept silently. Falling back on her bed and huggng her iPad to her chest, she thought of all those moments they had shared when it felt that he would nearly kiss her. 

How many times had she felt his arms around her and looked into his eyes darkening with some untold emotion? 

What if he had kissed her? 

She thought of how recently he was much gentler with her. More solicitous even. 

I don't want your pity! 

Why couldn't he love her as much as she loved him?

She wanted him so bad, it hurt.

How much had she negotiated with Allah? Every waking thought for months. It began with: please don't make me fall in love with him, during their spats and sparring, to: please make him fall in love with me! And now: please don't make him pity me.

Just please, make it stop hurting. 

She needed to get out of here. 

Out of sight, out of mind must have some truth to it after all. 

Zoya sighed. 

Just one day she had gone without seeing him. She'd hungered for a glimpse of him on their return. She dreaded the family meals the most. Tamatar would gush about wedding preparations, and her heart would plummet to her heels. Even at the dining table, she felt like a hanger-on. They were all family, and deserved to be at the table. Here she was, intruding on their intimacy. 

But she would be eternally grateful to Phuphi and Najma! Not once did they make her feel left out. 

Well rested after her nap, Najma filled the tub in Zoya's bathroom with hot water, and they sat at opposite ends soaking their feet. Music was playing on the iPad. Najma had rolled up her salwar but Zoya was wearing a pair of short shorts that Najma kept eyeing with envy. 

"You look so cute in those," she said for the tenth time. "I wish I could wear shorts but Bhaijaan would kill me." 

Zoya had her nail kit laid out on the edge and held Najma's foot in her towel-covered lap to start exfoliating the skin around the nails. 

"I know," said Zoya, "If he sees me now, I'll be dead meat. But we'll be done before he gets back." 

"Unless he decides to come home early from work." She had wondered about Bhaijaan coming home early yesterday.

Zoya nearly punctured Najma's toe with the nail file. Thank god Tamatar didn't notice her red face nor hear her thumping heart.

A teensy part of her wished that he could see her in shorts. She'd want to see him groan in desire and be unable to keep his hands and mouth off her. She imagined him trailing his fingers on her bare legs and thighs while she arched and wiggled with pleasure in his lap. 

She continued to dream with her eyes wide open, seeing the shorts discarded on the floor and her ankles over his shoulders as he"-     

Najma sighed loudly in pleasure at the foot rub, and Zoya's sex dream popped.

It was such fun to have Zoya around, Tamatar thought. She would miss her so much when she left. She wished that Bhaijaan was getting married to her instead. She would have been perfect for him, always standing up to him and not scared of him at all. Tanveer was kinda boring. But she seemed to be his type.

Now scrubbing Zoya's heel, Najma asked her if she remembered their conversation about ishq wala love from several months ago. 

"Remember Zoya, you said once you fell in love, aap unse ladengi, unse rooth jaya karengi, and you'll wait for him to manao you? Ammi and I love your fights with Bhaijaan, by the way! Do you still feel the same?" 

Zoya bent her head pretending to choose a nail color and let her hair fall as a curtain over her face, "I was just being silly then, Tamatar. Nahin, main unse nahin ladungi. But may be he'll fight with me, kyunki main itni paagal hoon. He may dislike my craziness, and find me irresponsible and childish. Yeh wala laga doon?" she asked holding up a bright pink nail color.

Najma sensed a deep ache in Zoya but couldn't exactly put her finger on it. The last time they'd talked about such things, Zoya had giddily chattered about true love as fun and playful nok-jhonk between soul mates. But now there was a too-serious tone and a streak of cynicism in her voice. 

Her new view of love seemed despondent and heartbreaking.

"When you marry, what kind of person would you want your husband to be?" 

"Main nikaah nahin karungi. I'm just not cut out for it." Zoya said with a dull finality.

"But Zoya, how can that be? Everyone gets married. Every girl dreams of a prince charming!"

"I know Tamatar, but to dream of prince charming, you must have some princess-like qualities, right? And that's not me. I don't want to think about getting married. I want to work, and do a lot of things like travel more. And may be no one would want to marry me. I am too independent and say and do stupid things. I am a misfit in America, and in India," she laughed bitterly to hide her pain.

"C'mon Zoya! You're not silly. You're such fun!" 

Najma couldn't understand why Zoya was talking like this. She cocked her head to one side and looked at Zoya quizzically. Something was wrong. Very wrong. 

And danged if she wouldn't try to find out what it was.

Dilshad had just finished talking to her doctor and went to Tanu's room. She knocked and then entered the room without waiting to be invited in. Tanu was on her bed going over some papers and looked up in alarm. 

"Khala? Ayeye, sab kucch theek toh hai na?"

"Tanu the doctor just called. She said that there may be some mis-reading of the tests. They want you to come back in again and do a whole blood panel and probably even an ultrasound. I hope everything is okay with the baby. Please be ready at 4 tomorrow." 

She didn't miss Tanu's expression of alarm as her eyes widened. 

That evening before dinner, Dilshad decided to talk to Asad. "I want you to sit and listen very carefully." He did as she asked and looked up at her in agitation. 

"Kya hua Ammi?"

"I took Tanu to the doctor today, and we found out that she's pregnant."

"WHAT?" Asad leaped up and started to pace the floor while running his hands through his hair.

"I kept hoping that it wouldn't be true. That somehow nothing happened that night," he muttered bleakly under his breath.

"Asad!" Dilshad commanded, "sit."

His eyes stormy and face twisted in agony, he sat and dropped his face in his hands. 

But he couldn't sit still for long. He began pacing back and forth again, and eventually walked to his bookcase slamming his fist into its side.

"Asad! Calm down. I have something important to tell you." 

But he couldn't bear to hear anything. All he could see what the end of his miserable life. 

Grabbing his car keys he banged out of his room and the house, as if chased by an army of demons.

Dilshad sighed, "Allah! Never listens, that one." She raised her eyes upward and prayed for his safety and happiness. 

I will make it right.

Dilshad walked into the living room, and bumped into Najma. "Najma, be careful."

"Sorry Ammi." 

Dilshad noticed that Najma too was preoccupied. What is going on in this house?

"Kya hua beta?" She asked guiding her daughter to the sofa.

"Woh, Ammi, I'm worried about Zoya."

"What happened to Zoya? Is she OK?"

"I don't know. There seems to be something too sad and quiet about her. Do you think she's missing her Abbu?"

"May be. But did something specific happen?"

"It's strange. Months ago we were discussing love, true love ... you know what I mean, right?"

Dilshad nodded patiently.

"When I asked her about it again today, she seemed really hard on herself. She said that she probably isn't worth being loved because she is stupid and a misfit. How ridiculous is that?"

She continued to muse out loud, "that's just not like her at all. I wonder what's going on."

Dilshad's heart wrenched. She knew exactly why Zoya would think something like that. Her idiot of a son had no sense at all. Knowing Zoya, she knew that that girl would have already booked her tickets to New York by now. 

She needed to fix this soon or something terrible would happen. Too many hearts would be broken.

Allah! Please guide me.

Song in Title:

Dor (2006): "Ye Hosla"

Shaam Chhupale Suraj Magar, Raat Ko Ek Din Dhalna Hi Hai

In the car, Asad slammed his already-bruised fist on the steering wheel. All he could see before him was a swirling and disintegrating collage of Zoya's face: smiling, angry, sad, happy, naughty, and angelic. A part of him had hoped that they could still be together by some quirk of fate, but now there was no hope. 

"You stupid, stupid jerk," he berated himself for the thousandth time. 

"What have you done?"

Finding himself close to the dargah he wrenched the car to a violent stop. He parked and walked the narrow lane toward the shrine, each step burdened by guilt and angry regret. 

He entered the shrine with his head covered and bowed. Sitting down he glanced at the floor sightlessly. 

Someone coughed, and he looked up. 

And he couldn't look away.

Her head was covered with a white dupatta this time and she was staring stonily at her clasped hands. Tears were flowing down her face just as they had that first time he saw her here. He didn't realize when his own eyes blurred. She hastily wiped her tears and got up to leave after offering a quick prayer.

He nearly got up to follow her, but what would he even say to her? Asad wasn't sure how much longer he stayed after that. It seemed as if every event and encounter was mocking him for thinking himself so principled and morally superior. 

He hung his head and hunched his shoulders.

As he was leaving the shrine, he felt a hand on his shoulder. Turning around, he stiffened. 

"Jee?" he said harshly and impatiently.

His father stepped out of the shadows and moved his hand away.  

"Ayaan told me that you were getting engaged?" 

Asad nodded assent.

"You look about as miserable as I feel," muttered Rashid.

Asad picked his head and stared at this man. 

"Why are you getting married if you don't love the girl?"

Asad reeled.

"How"-?"

"I saw the way you looked at Zoya right now. A blind man can see that you are hopelessly in love with her."

Asad's head swam. How did his father know Zoya? And how"-?

"You know Ms. Farooqui?"

"You mean Zoya? Yes, in fact I met here for the first time in December as she moped because someone had shouted at her for being irresponsible and careless."

Rashid looked at his son knowingly.

Asad ducked his head, remembering the incident well. It was one of the many times that he had humiliated her for not being conventional and conservative enough for a girl from a proper family with upright moral standing. He squeezed his eyes shut and forcibly expelled his breath.

"We are good friends now. But I haven't seen her recently nor talked to her. Obviously something is troubling her too. She looked heartbroken in there." 

Asad felt torn. He wanted to walk away and never look back. But he also wanted to linger. He wanted to hear more from his father about Zoya and what he meant about being similarly miserable. But he couldn't find the courage to ask him directly. 

Wait, did he just call him his father--?

For the first time, Rashid felt hopeful about his son. He could see that Asad was not glaring at him hatefully, but was actually silently crying for help by letting the man he hated even this close to him for this long. 

He felt elated.

"Don't make the same mistake I made eighteen years ago," he said somberly.

Asad looked at him sharply.

His heart ached for his son. He knew too well the pangs of love and regret. To have true love and to turn your back on it. 

Was it a family curse? 

"Don't let the woman you love get away because of some misplaced sense of loyalty or duty. You will condemn yourself to a life sentence of silent suffering and hopeless yearning." 

Rashid's voice broke in anguish. 

"You will resent everyone around you and loathe yourself for the rest of your life. And one day, even your children will hate you for your cowardice." 

He dashed the moisture from his eyes and patting Asad on his back one last time, walked away into the night.

Asad stood rooted to the ground. 

He couldn't believe that the words he had just heard were nearly the same as the ones that he had been hurling at himself for the last few days. They were his father's words but his constant thoughts. In just a few days he had felt his spirit battered and soul bruised. And this man had lived like this for eighteen years?

His vision cleared as if a muddy veil had been lifted. 

All rancor dissipated. 

He felt a burning but fierce kinship with his father in that moment of absolute despair. He had missed his father's hand on his head all these long years.

Asad's throat wrenched out as if with a mind of its own, "Abbu!"

Rashid halted and stood as if carved in stone.  

His heart soared.

He turned and blindly groped for his estranged son who fell into his embrace and sobbed in his arms like a baby.

Neither knew how long they stood there. The street was emptier when they stood apart and looked into each other's streaming eyes. 

The father touched his son's face. His fingers traced his features like a blind man blessed with sight. Brokenly Rashid tried to tell his son to learn from his example. "Wrest the happiness you deserve from fate's cruel hands. It's your birthright. Do not let anyone tell you otherwise." 

Wiping his son's tears, Rashid smiled gratefully. His teeth gleamed in the night. "If I died today, I'd die a happy man because finally I was able to hold my son in my arms and hear him call me Abbu.' I am so sorry for not being a good Abbu to you and your sister. May Allah never forgive me."

"No, Abbu, don't say that. I too have been blind and rigid."

With his hand on his head, the father blessed his son with a life full of joy and happiness. 

"Yes, there will be some tough decisions ahead, but you will be stronger for it. Do not hurt yourself anymore. You deserve to love and be loved. You are a good man. Fight for your love. I didn't, and regret it every day of my life."

As Asad drove home that night, he felt as if a weight he'd carried around him most of his life had been lifted.

If only his Abbu's prayers and blessings could undo the fate he'd recklessly signed away.

Song in Title:

Dor (2006): "Ye Hosla"

Khwaab Mein Dekha Tha Ek Aanchal Maine Apne Haathon Mein 

Chapter 16 

"I think Tanu may be lying." 

Finally Dilshad had been able to corner her son, after his return, to tell him about her suspicions.

"What? How can you say that Ammi? Why would she do that? And now you say that the doctor has confirmed the ... the pregnancy too."

"I don't know, it's just a feeling that I have. All through the trip I kept noticing little things. Her diet and gestures ... the way she moved, all of it seemed too familiar. A body doesn't react so quickly after conception. It takes anywhere from 9-12 days for even doctors to be able to say if a woman is pregnant. And if we count from that night, it's been only 9 days."

"What are you saying Ammi? I don't understand. Even so, it ... it does fall within the 9-10 day range you mentioned." 

For a second, Asad couldn't believe that he was even having this conversation with his mother! What had happened in the last two weeks that his life was completely turned upside down? How could he be so embroiled in a situation so distasteful, when he had prided himself as a man of morals and strict principles?

"Asad, you are so nave! I am saying, I suspect that she's been pregnant for more than 9 days."

"What? Do you know what you are saying?"

He had begun to pace again. His hands were itching to do some major damage.

"Calm down! I know, even I couldn't believe it myself. But I have experience and my instincts are rarely wrong. And Dr. Sharma also said that given her body language she may be pregnant for more than 9 days. She can tell us for sure only after more tests."

Asad looked at her with a glimmer of hope shining in his eyes. He dared not hope, but could it be that he hadn't erred after all? He didn't even care about Tanveer's betrayal. Could he finally have a chance with Zoya?

"I have convinced her to go with me to the doctor again for a more extensive check-up tomorrow," she said, patting his hand.

"But Ammi, if you are right, then why will she go with you tomorrow? It's the easiest way to be caught lying. And if she doesn't agree, than how do we prove any of this?"

Dilshad frowned at his pessimism in exasperation. He was behaving as if he wanted Tanu to be pregnant with his child. So many questions of his mother who's trying her best to help him! 

And she was pretty sure he mustn't have asked HER a single one. 

Men were such duffers, even if this one was the apple of her eye!

"Yes, you are right," she continued patiently. Sometimes things needed to be spelled out and diagrammed for this son of hers.

"But she hasn't backed out as yet. So either she'll try to come up with an excuse or... Which is why I wanted to tell you in advance. She probably knows that till the birth we can't determine paternity. We have to keep an eye on her and I also want you to hire an investigator who can find out a little about her background and her life in Kanpur. I am not going to be taken for a fool. I will not let her ruin my children's happiness if she is lying about this." 

"I wonder why I can't remember anything from that night," he muttered to himself.

"What?" Dilshad almost shouted. "What did you just say?"

"I said that I can't recall anything from that night that---"

"Asad!" This time she did shout. 

"Tell me everything that happened that night, this instance. Do not hide anything, you understand?"

Embarrassed, he did. He told her about Tanu bringing him some milk, feeling dizzy, and then waking up to find"-     

In a flash Dilshad understood it all. She knew it would be futile to talk to Asad right now. 

She needed to think more about this.

Meanwhile Asad was paralyzed with doubt and hope. On the one hand, he didn't want to betray the trust of a close friend whom he may have hurt, but on the other, there were some things about her that had begun to nag him. It didn't add up. And the biggest red flag now seemed to be his complete lack of memory of what happened that night. Knowing himself, and thinking more calmly about the incident, he knew he wasn't capable of such an act.

His mind and heart warred.

Finally, he decided to trust his Ammi's instincts, and Abbu's blessings; he took a leap of faith.

He called Prasad to find the best investigator who could do a quick but extensive background check on someone whose details he was forwarding.

Asad exhaled as he hung up. 

Every muscle in his body was soaked in stress; every nerve sent up a silent prayer: He'd risk his life if it afforded him even the slimmest chance of a future with Zoya.

Before leaving his room Dilshad looked at him fondly and put her hand on his head. 

"Don't worry, we will fix this mess. But what did you say to Zoya?"

He looked at her in confusion. "I haven't told her any of this."

She resisted rolling her eyes and clutching her forehead in dismay. "No, I mean did you ever say anything to her about being unfit as a wife or bahu?"

His world reeled.

"Najma told me that they were chatting about love and marriage, and Zoya said that she won't get married because she wouldn't make a good wife or daughter-in-law."

Seeing his shattered expression she knew she was right. He had done the damage, he would have to fix that one on his own. 

That night she had another of her nightmares. And try as she might she couldn't repress crying out. She was so mortified when everyone came to check on her. Zoya dared not look at Mr. Khan. But from under her lashes she saw him frowning. Her heart stopped. Please Allah miyan, I hope I didn't call out ...

Asad frowned. She had had such nightmares before. She looked shaken up but always brushed off Ammi's concern. Regret hollowed him. He wished he could hold her. But no, he was probably a part of her nightmares now.

Song in Title:

Dil Chahta Hai (2001): "Tanhayee"

Koi Khalish Hai Hawaon Mein Bin Tere

Chapter 17

"WHAT?" Everyone rushed to the living room where Zoya was arguing loudly on the phone with her Aapi.

"Aapi, how could you do this to me after all that's happened?" She wailed. After a minute, she disconnected the phone and looked up with squinty eyes. 

"Ridiculous," she muttered mutinously. 

"What happened Zoya?" Asked Phuphi with trepidation. Her next question echoed Asad's biggest fear. "Did Zeenat insist that you return to New York immediately."

Zoya shook her head with resentment. "No phuphi, it's much, much worse."

Everyone waited with bated breath. Asad wanted to rage and pace. Please give me a chance to explain. Please don't go!

"This is so embarrassing," She said softly. "Aapi has put my name and profile on some matrimonial website, because she's decided that I must get married this year." 

Asad forgot to exhale. Najma guffawed and then squealed with delight. Dilshad looked at Asad whose head was bent. Tanu liked this bit of news a lot. Things may finally get easier, she thought. 

"Waise Zoya, by the way, how about you and Ayaan bhaijaan?" 

"WHAT?" bellowed Asad. 

Zoya glared at him angrily. Oh, so I'm not good enough for your brother either! It was a good thing that Phuphi and Tamatar were here, or she'd have bashed his skull in.

"Think about it Bhaijaan. Both of them are so similar and get along so well. They would make a perfect jodi. The most fun couple of Bhopal! Just imagine! Mona Darling Weds Raabert! And their kids would be born reciting shayari. How cute!" she clapped her hands merrily. 

"Ayaan is getting engaged to Humaira," Asad declared, a bit too quietly, the veins in his forehead nearly popping. 

The vision of Zoya's children had him seeing red.

Dilshad saw him walk away to his room and heard the door close softly behind him.

Rolling her eyes and blinking to keep from crying, Zoya spoke to Najma. "Its not funny, Tamatar, Aapi's even sent me some promising' candidates that I'm supposed to check out and let her know." 

"I want to see, please," begged Najma bouncing on her toes. Zoya looked at her with a sinking heart and then shrugged. 

Eh, it could be fun to rip the clowns to shreds. She needed to feed her anger, or she'd burst into tears right here.

She brought out her iPad and soon both of them were bent over the prospective matches suggested by Aapi. 

"Ooh, look this one is a doctor in Delhi."

"Nah! He's already balding."

"Business in Lucknow?" 

"But he hasn't even graduated high school!" 

"Computer guy in Hyderabad?" 

"Too short."

Her email alert pinged. 

It was from Aapi. 

"Oh no! No! No! No!" Zoya screamed and leapt up on the sofa jumping in agitation. Her iPad and phone slid to the floor. Asad came rushing out of his room, even though he couldn't bear to see and hear more evidence of his world crashing around him. He still couldn't wipe out the image of a pregnant Zoya, or a Zoya holding a baby, from his mind. 

That baby was going to be his.

"Ms. Farooqui are you okay?" Even the sight of her hopping on his precious sofa couldn't override the concern in his voice.

"What happened Zoya?" asked Najma. This was such fun.

Zoya bent down to retrieve the iPad and fish out her phone which had gotten lost under the sofa. Her ass waved in the air, and Asad sucked in his breath. He hadn't seen a cuter butt, and if no one else were here, he's just lift her over his shoulder and carry her to his room to get started on making that baby.

"I will kill Aapi!" She muttered under her breath.

"Zoya! Aise nahin kehte hain beta." 

"But Phuphi you don't know what she's done." She gesticulated wildly, using air quotes, and nearly in tears.  

"She just emailed me that a good friend's son' is in Bhopal and will drop by' tomorrow and take me out for coffee.' "

Asad's heart stopped. 

Najma's glee knew no bounds. She clapped in delight. Laughing, she taunted Zoya, "how ironic. Just yesterday you said you won't get married! And today? Boom! You challenged the universe. Now within 24 hours, proposals, ladkas and rishtas. Soon shehnai. Ab to Zoya gayee kaam se." She danced around trying to evade Zoya's punches.

Zoya stomped her foot and then ran to her room. "This is so not happening! I hate this. I'm going to talk to Jeeju."

Najma chased after her. "But what does he do? Is he based in the US?" 

They could still hear Zoya ranting. "I'm not going out with some lame guy! I don't care even if he is from the Bay area, and works for Apple!"

"APPLE!!! Zoya you are sooo lucky. Free iPads and iPhones for life! Ask if he has a brother, OK?" 

Dilshad turned to Asad who was still reeling from all the bad news ... and what's with Tamatar going on about this loser's brother? 

"I'm not going to send her alone with some man we don't even know," Dilshad spoke gravely. "You and Tanu will join them, and make sure that everything is okay."

Oh god, what fresh hell is this? He was to be her chaperone now? Yes, he deserved to suffer for being a total ba*stard to her, but like this?

For the first time in her life, Zoya was not able to talk Aapi out of her decision, or get Jeeju to support her. 

She first had herself a good cry. 

Then stomping mad, she got ready for the date from hell. She had one mind to apply the smelliest oil in her hair, and braid it in sausage rolls, borrow a pair of granny glasses from somewhere, and wear her most faded shirt and ripped jeans. 

Aapi was crazy if she thought that she'd go get a mani and pedi for this. 

No way, Jose! 

But on finding out that Mr. Khan and Tanu were going too, she decided to take better care of her appearance, even applying make-up carefully to cover up the puffiness of her eyes. Her hands had almost reached out to wear the only salwar kameez she'd packed with her, but no. She wouldn't change who she was. 

Not even for him. 

That evening everyone, except Asad, waited in the living room. He was in his room, supposedly working on an important project. The doorbell rang. Slamming the laptop shut with unnecessary roughness, he decided to make an appearance after all. One look, and his heart went out to her. She was gripping her hands tight, and her kohl-lined eyes still betrayed some redness. 

A giggly Najma opened the door and said Hi to someone shyly. 

"Zoya?" 

"No, I'm her friend Najma. Please come in and meet everyone." 

"Asalamu Walekum. I'm Omar. Nice to meet you all." 

Everyone was checking him out. Head to toe. He stood, shoulders back, hands pushed into his pockets and head co*cked to the side.

Najma instantly approved of the tall, good looking and well-dressed cutie pie. She made eyes at Zoya behind Omar's back with exaggerated head nods while making the sign of A OK with her hand. 

Asad seethed with jealousy. He could have thrown something. 

Najma stepped forward and introduced Zoya. He shook her hand. "We've met," he said roguishly. 

Zoya tilted her head to one side haughtily. 

"We went to the same school till eighth grade."

Zoya still couldn't place him.

"Omi the Zamboni," he rolled his eyes and laughed huskily.

"Omi!" Zoya screamed and launched herself in his arms. He laughed and swung her around. They hugged for what seemed like an eternity to Asad. His hands were balled by his side, his face set in a murderous grimace. 

Get. 

Your. 

Hands. 

Off. 

Her. 

Now.

"Is it really you? Wow, look at you, you cleaned up good!" Zoya gushed.

"And you? Kim Possible? Not so bad either," he teased.

"But how come, here, after so long?" she asked when they disengaged. Asad had died a few deaths by now. 

"Cousin's wedding, and then Ammi called your Aapi, and the rest, as they say, is history! True story!" he answered sheepishly and winked at Najma.

Aw! he's so cute, thought Najma.

Zoya pulled him by his hand to seat him on the sofa, eager to find out more about Omar. She had a million questions. 

Dilshad interrupted. "Beta you'll get late. May be you should leave now. Earlier I had thought of sending Asad and Tanu with you, but since you know each other so well, may be that's not necessary."

"No Ammi, we don't mind. This way we'll get to know Ms. Farooqui's long-lost friend better." Asad ground out his words, while glaring at Zoya, car keys biting into his hand. 

Dilshad was surprised, but then, not really. She smiled to herself. Hmm, may be this is just the kick in his pants he needs.

Three hours later when they returned, Dilshad could tell by her son's thunderous expression that he'd had a very bad time. He slammed into his room and she heard a muffled growl as the door banged close.

Tanu looked pale, and Zoya, after so many days, looked exhilarated.

In his room, Asad paced and fumed. His jaw and head hurt from clenching his teeth so tight, for so long. If looks could kill, Omar would be dead and interred already. 

They had looked so cozy together laughing and chatting about everything American. Some nonsense about In n' Out Burger versus Five Guys. Ribbing each other about the pros and cons of California living and New York attitude. The high-fiving and fist bumps! 

Ya Allah! He could have gladly brained this guy. 

But he had loved hearing stories of how a tomboy Zoya had tackled schoolyard bullies to save dear little chubby Omi, and how she had even dangled from the meanest, baddest bully's hair, to get him to stop tormenting another lost soul. That bully had now grown up to be an NYPD cop, and still nursed a crush on the spitfire who had nearly scalped him in fifth grade. 

He had never seen Zoya laugh so much. How come she never laughed like that with him? No wait, she had laughed like that with him, but just once"-  

He was from America. She was from America. May be they would be good for each other?

NO! 

He knocked the books off the console table in fury and frustration. 

Back in her room, Zoya meanwhile was on the phone with Omar. She loved meeting him, but wanted to be very clear that she was not getting married any time soon. 

"Because you are in love with that hulking pit bull of yours?" He asked.

"Whoa! What pit bull, and how do you---?" 

"Oh, please! Any idiot can tell that the two of you have the hots for each other. Why you aren't together I don't know. And what's the deal with that girl with him?"

"She's his fiance and there's nothing between us, so just shut up!" 

"Nothing between you? Stop kidding yourself. He looked like he was imagining fifty different ways of killing me slowly with his bare hands," Omar chuckled, highly amused.

"But seriously, there's some deep stuff going on, and you better resolve it before you both make the biggest mistake of your life." 

"Shut up Omar, and mind your own beeswax! You show up not even for five hours and Bam! You're my relationship counselor?" She barked. 

"Whatever. His sister though is quite the charmer. Her I could be interested in."

"Watch it. Her brother will really kill you then. For how long are you in town?"

"Two more days, and then I have go to Mumbai. Bye Zoey, I'll tell khala that we just didn't click. But dude, don't mess this up. Put him in one of your famous headlocks and don't let him go till he squeaks."

Zoya laughed at that image while she hung up. Imagine her doing that to Jahanpanah! Jahanpanah six packs!

He would kill her. 

But may be she just needed to hang on for dear life, and he would eventually hug her tight and dip his head to kiss her senseless. She sighed with longing, and kicked the footstool violently.

Suddenly she heard a muffled crash, and ran out. Everything looked fine in the kitchen and the living room. Instinctively she knew that Mr. Khan had thrown a fit yet again. Grabbing the first aid box, she knocked softly on his door, and opened it before he could respond. 

It was deja vu all over again. 

He looked up at her, his eyes pleading. She examined his hands. It was the other one this time. 

"Allah miyan! Seriously Mr. Khan, why do you even keep breakable things in your room, if all you do is smash them to pieces in one of your temper tantrums?" 

She went to the restroom to wet the cotton ball and applied it to his cut while gently blowing on it. He watched her face as she dressed the cut. Her lips as she blew on his wound, were so kissable. One tug, and he could feast on them and never let her go. His other hand almost moved to tuck her hair behind her ear. Fisting it, he moved it behind his back.

He cleared his throat. "Thank you, Ms. Farooqui, you shouldn't have bothered. It's just a minor cut," he whispered harshly. "Please, just go back to your room."

"You're welcome Mr. Khan. Always such a gentleman," she scoffed, and turned to go, but was grabbed roughly from behind. He turned her to face him.

"Yes, I am a gentleman! If I hadn't been, I would have punched someone tonight." He shut his eyes in embarrassment. God, how dumb did that sound? 

Her eyes went wide as she stared at him. So Omar was right. 

She felt a bubble of hope bloom in her chest. Zoya brutally squashed it. 

"Oh really?" She decided to goad him. "Jealous Mr Khan?"

"Ms. Farooqui, don't be ridiculous, please go to bed," he ground out, pressing his uninjured hand to his forehead.

"Why don't you just admit it Mr. Khan?" She whispered, her voice dangerously close to breaking. "You want me, but think that I'm not good enough for you. Do you like me against your better judgement? If you think I am so irresponsible and insensitive then why do you even care?" 

He turned away from her, his shoulders heaving.

"Allah Miyan what's wrong with you Ms. Farooqui," she continued, her voice thick with tears, "of course Mr. Khan doesn't care for you!"

Tears spilled from her eyes. "I'm good enough to punch someone for, but not to spend the rest of your life with, isn't that right? I'm a misfit and not worthy to be your wife, or Phuphi's bahu or the mother of your kids!" She hurled the first aid box at his back and ran out sobbing.

"Zoya! Please don't---" He called out in a strangled voice to her retreating back. 

Hating himself and his helplessness Asad slammed his bandaged hand on the console. 

Song in Title:

I Hate Love Storys (2010): "Bin Tere"

Tumko Jo Pyaar Kiya, Maine To Sazaa Main Paayi, Tanhaai

Chapter 18 

Tanu was not a happy camper. She was bristling at Khala's suspicions and recent blocking of her maneuvers. She hadn't taken her tenacity and hyper motherly instincts into account. 

Then there was Asad's rude and aloof behavior during the entire trip. She had hoped that a guilt-ridden Jammy would be more attentive to her. But he just seemed resentful, and was behaving like a sulky child whose favorite toy had been taken away.

And now? That coffee date yesterday had been a total disaster. 

Here she had thought that Zoya would finally be out of her hair, but then Jammy had to go and act like a pissed off gorilla in heat. Each smile and laugh of Zoya's had made him clench and unclench his fists. He had nearly bitten off the waiter's head and almost crushed the wine glass in his bare hands. He sat, arms crossed stiffly across his chest, scowling at the other two, and didn't even say a word to her. Not a single word or glance!

She would have to make alternate plans. And soon. Khala may be simple and righteous but she was no fool.

Tanu decided to play her cards first by announcing the next morning that she would like to better get to know Jammy's other siblings. Could they all go for dinner so that she could also meet her two other future sisters-in-law? 

She hoped that by involving more of the family, Asad would lower his guard, and it would become harder for Khala to break off the engagement. The added bonus would be that Tanu would get a break from Khala's current hawk-like scrutiny. The woman was being a bit too observant for her own good.

Before Dilshad or Asad could shoot this idea down, Najma squealed with delight about how much fun it would be for all the siblings to get together. 

She looked approvingly at Tanu, "such a great idea! Why didn't I think of it?" she gushed.

"This way even Zoya can meet Nikhat and Nuzzhat and we can all get to know one another better. It was such fun with Ayaan Bhaijaan during the trip, right Zoya? Please can we go to the new Thai restaurant, please, please Bhaijaan?"

Asad nodded. A part of him felt elated at Najma's warmth and affection for Zoya. He noticed that Najma was happier at the prospect of Zoya meeting their sisters instead of Tanu. 

"It would be a good idea, but I don't know if their parents will let them meet us," he said stiffly. 

Although he had taken a step toward reconciling with his father, he still hesitated to go the complete distance. But this was all the encouragement that Najma needed. 

She reassured him, "don't worry Bhaijaan. I'll talk to Ayaan Bhaijaan and we'll come up with something." 

Asad shrugged and got ready to go to work, avoiding looking at Zoya. "Let me know, then I can make reservations."

He too wished that he were introducing Zoya formally to his sisters, not Tanveer. He desperately wanted Ammi's suspicions to be right. But so far, they hadn't been able to do much. They hadn't yet heard from the investigator. His life was hanging in the balance. And Asad knew he was running out of time. Her Aapi's rush to get Zoya married had shaken him to the core. Knowing Zoya, she would run away at the slightest whiff of an arranged nikaah. 

But even more than that, he could no longer bear to look at her red-rimmed eyes or her desperately knotted hands. The kohl in her eyes had begun to get darker and thicker. She wasn't fooling him. He knew that she was overdoing the make-up to hide the ravages of daily tears and smudges under her eyes. But it was the bruises he had begun to notice on her knuckles that completely undid him. When he'd first seen the small crescent welts on her hands he'd been puzzled. But then he'd seen her digging her nails in and realized what they meant. This morning those bruises seemed to be covered by bite marks, and he had nearly grabbed her hands in anguish; he longed to hold her to him. 

Please don't hurt yourself. I'm not worth it. But he also knew that she wasn't the kind to suffer in quiet. She was fiercely independent, a wave upon the sand that ceaselessly ebbed out of reach. 

A blink, and she'd be gone. It was his biggest fear these days.

Asad brooded as he slipped into his suit jacket.

"And Ammi," Najma continued. "When are you going to start making arrangements for the sagaai?" 

She didn't notice the sudden drop in the temperature in the room. Tanu could have hugged the little brat. 

Zoya didn't want to raise her eyes for fear that she would fall apart. She focused on holding her knife and fork over the plate as straight as possible as she blinked to stop the tears. Do NOT make a fool of yourself, she scolded herself.

As soon as the words exited Tamatar's mouth Asad had glanced up at Zoya and seen her eyelids redden and lips turn white. 

"Tamatar, why don't you call Ayaan right now. It'll be hard to get a hold of him later."

Before dashing off to contact Ayaan, Najma called out over her shoulder, "Zoya, may be you can invite Omar?" 

She didn't see the scowl settle on Asad's face. 

Great! Just bloody great.

"Okay. I'm meeting him for lunch at that new mall. I'll ask him if he can join us," said Zoya, her gaze still lowered. 

She didn't miss Mr. Khan slamming the door a bit more violently than usual on his way out. 

Good, she thought. Serves you right. 

But then she looked up and saw Tanu. 

She dug the fork end into her thumb. 

At Tanu's suggestion of a family get-together, Zoya had felt a tremor of hope shudder through her. At least she could lose her despair in a big group and she'd get more time with Omar before he left for Mumbai. And then Raabert would be there too. It would be fun to meet Mr. Khan's other sisters too. She had always wondered what it would be like to have so many siblings. It must be such fun she mused: secrets and clothes to share, fights and alliances, and lots of talking and giggling late into the night. 

Thinking of sleepovers and late nights, her mind automatically swerved to that fateful sleepover the first night in this house, when she had inadvertently mistaken his room and bed as hers. She had been fast asleep and then found herself flying through the air and landing hard on the floor thanks to his freakishly quick reflexes. 

She'd been sore for days afterwards.

And Mr. Khan hadn't stopped pulling the rug from under her since then, she thought with a pang. 

How many times had she imagined that scene being a lot different? He would have pinned her on her back with his rock hard body. Her eyes would have snapped open in alarm, and then drooped with desire as they continued to gaze into each other's eyes. He would have slowly and deliberately laced his fingers through hers over her head and kissed her neck, his lips slowly moving up her chin to her lips. 

He would have kneed her legs apart and settled between her thighs still kissing her senseless. The sounds of their sighs and moans would have filled the room as their bodies moved against each other more urgently. 

She nearly moaned out aloud.

Even dreaming of it right now in the middle of the living room, made her insides clench and tighten and desire nip her in the gut. 

"Stop it," she scolded herself, "he can go to hell for all I care," and she fled to the privacy of her room. 

But in her heart she knew that her cursing him out was just a pathetic ruse to block out the real pain: Tanveer would be a member of the family that Zoya had wanted to be a part of so badly. So many sisters, a brother, an Ammi like Dilshad, and an Abbu like Dost. All her life she had yearned for this. And the love of a man like Mr. Khan. 

It was time to lock herself in the bathroom and stuff her knuckles in her mouth again.

Song in Title:

Dil Chahta Hai (2001): "Tanhayee"

Nange Pairon Pe Angaro Chalti Rahi, Haaye Chalti Rahi 

Chapter 19 

Ayaan had loved the idea just as much as Najma.

By noon he'd concocted a foolproof plan to get clearance from the elders in the family. 

He first told Dadi about Bhaijaan's upcoming engagement and convinced her to help him with his plans. While saddened by not being able to share in her first grandchild's big moment and joy, she was pleased that at least the children kept in touch, and were eager to get together and share in each other's joys. 

The older generation could learn a thing or two from them. 

She was already planning which earrings of hers she would give as a saugat to her oldest grand daughter-in-law.

Dadi next talked to Shireen to facilitate the meeting between the siblings. "Now that Nikhat and Imran are engaged, it would be a good idea for Imran to get to know his sister- and brother-in-law better. Why not send the children out for dinner so that they can all get to know one another."

Shireen though it was a great idea. 

Dadi delegated her to approach Siddiqui Saheb with this suggestion. 

After much fuss and coaxing from Raziya, who never passed up an opportunity to push Humaira and Ayaan together, it was decided that Ayaan and Imran would take the three girls out for dinner and that they would all return home by 10 o'clock sharp. Details of the venue were demanded with repeated reprimands for the children to carry their phones and leave the restaurant's number at home. 

Ayaan mentally rolled his eyes but he was thrilled that he would get to spend more time with Bhai and Najma and especially Mona darling. His sisters and Humaira were already jealous of his Ajmer-Jaipur-Agra trip and had noticed a new spring in his step lately. He strummed his guitar more, and was trying to learn some old songs.

Imran was told the real reason for the outing, and was asked to cross his heart and swear that he would never let anyone know about who they were really meeting at the restaurant. Ayaan had decided that if anyone did find out about this clandestine meeting, he would pass it off as them just happening to run into his brother and family at the restaurant. 

He rubbed his hands in glee. He was awesome. Ayaan raised his collar and brushed the tip of his nose with a definite flair and flourish.

He called Asad at work to give him the all-clear.

"Ho gaya! But we have to be back home by 10. Can you believe that? I'll be able to squeeze another half hour or so," he promised smugly. He knew he could charm his way out of anything.

"But Bhai, what a genius idea! Zaroor Mona Darling ka hi hoga haina? Just like the road trip was her idea too. Bahut maza aya tha. We should definitely do something like this again. By the way, Dadi wants us to bring a gift from her to your fiance, so remind me when we get there. I might forget." He returned with full gusto to the previous subject. 

"Kya Bhaijaan, kahan chhupa ke rakha tha aapne Mona ko? For so long I had been asking you to introduce me to your guest. And you kept putting me off by calling her your musibat and what not." 

He nattered on, not paying any attention to the bristling silence at the other end.

"If I had met her even sooner---" 

"Ayaan!" Hollered a seething Asad.

"Bakwas ki baatein mat karo! I have a lot of work to do before we meet. As it is, because of our dinner plans I'll have to leave work early. I'm hanging up now."

"Par Bhai---"

Asad pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes and sighed hopelessly. It hadn't escaped his notice how both Najma and Ayaan loved Zoya. His stupid misconception that she wouldn't be suitable for his family had become a recurring taunt that played in his head on an endless loop.

To endure another get-together from hell. 

More torture to see her laugh and chat with someone who was just as fun-loving as herself. Najma's words about how she and Ayaan would make a perfect couple were still giving him ulcers. Could Ayaan really be romantically interested in Zoya? Why was she even in love with Akdu Ahmed Khan who had only grief to offer? 

But Ayaan? How could he want to punch his own brother? 

Incredibly foolish! 

He called up Prasad and gruffly told him to expedite the investigation. "I don't care how much extra he charges. Send someone to Kanpur. Just do it, dammit! I want results." 

He called Dilshad next. "Ammi, we are meeting everybody for dinner tonight. Humein ghar aate aate 10:30 ya 10:45 ho jayega. Can you do something while we are gone?"

"Haan Asad, bolo."

"Ammi, I know this is going to sound terrible, but while we are gone, can you check through Tanu's things carefully for any clue that we may be able to use to discredit her claims?" 

"Accha hua tumne keh diya. I was thinking of doing the same." 

"Take pictures of anything suspicious Ammi. And call Prasad if you need anything. I want to end this soon."

Hanging up Asad buried his face in his hands. This was becoming unbearable. He was this close to marching up to Tanu and calling the whole thing off. But what if the child was his---

Would he really be able to walk away from his own child?

Asad pushed his chair back violently; it slammed against the wall and a framed picture came crashing down.

"Sir?" Prasad came rushing in. "Are you all right? Is everything OK?"

Asad glared at him.

He had made the reservations for 7 o'clock so that they would have enough time to talk and enjoy a leisurely meal. Ammi would have enough time to do a thorough look around. 

He sighed heavily. The same thoughts circled like buzzards in his head. Omi, the bloody Zamboni would be there. Check.

Sit through the Mona Darling and Raabert banter. Check.

And to add insult to injury, Tanu would be introduced as his fiance, and Zoya as their guest, while he stewed in jealous and silent misery. Check.

Damn!

Not that he would ever know, but for Zoya this would be much harder. He could enjoy the luxury of scowling and brooding in silence, and no one would think twice about his behavior. But Zoya was known by Omar, Najma and Raabert to be the life of the party. Her silence would be a dead giveaway. 

After her crying jag, she decided to do some yoga and a lot of deep-breathing meditation to calm and center herself. 

She would need all her strength reserves today, and if it didn't kill her, she'd be even stronger tomorrow--gee thanks, Nietzsche miyan.

Song in Title:

Aaja Nachle (2007): "O Re Piya"

Ek Din Kabhi Jo, Khud Ko Taraashe, Meri Nazar Se Tu Zara

Chapter 20

At 6:30, everyone gathered in the living room to leave for the restaurant. Najma was admiring Tanu and complimented her on her exquisitely embroidered anarkali.

"Ooh what a great bag, Tanveer. Is it new?" 

Tanu was thrilled with all the attention, and hoped that Asad would notice too. She was perfumed and coiffed to the nines. Good, that Ms. New York was in her usual jeans. 

No competition tonight.

When Asad came out of his room, Najma eagerly pointed out how nice Tanveer looked. He complimented her politely and greeted Omar stiffly. 

How or when it was decided that Zoya would ride with Omar on his bike, and Najma and Tanveer would come with Asad he never knew. 

Zombie had a bike? Where---! And Zoya ride with him! What the hell? What was wrong with riding with all of them in the car? And why was Omar even being invited to this shindig? 

He was shell-shocked at the speed with which Najma had taken over the planning of the whole evening.

Dilshad hid her smile. Love and heartache had made her son putty in his baby sister's hands. Najma yammered on about how much fun it would be and how lucky Zoya was. How she wished she could go on a bike ride too.

Could she may be, get a ride on the way back?

Tanu spoke up on a still-dazed Asad's behalf and firmly told Najma, no. 

Najma pouted, but was soon diverted by Omar asking her about her plans for the summer. He promised her a bike ride around the neighborhood later if her mom and brother permitted. 

Tanu sought Asad's approval in handling a childish Najma, but he was preoccupied. 

As usual.

But thank god! At least she wouldn't have to sit through any more of his rear-view mirror gazing.

Asad meanwhile turned to glower at Zoya and his breath caught. 

She wore her signature jeans which she'd topped with an elegant white kurti with zari work on the collar and cuffs. He had thought that she looked good in red and pink. She was ethereal tonight in white with minimal make-up and accessories. 

Her bitter words and sobs from last night still slashed his soul. 

He hadn't slept a wink. 

He had yearned to go to her room and gather her in his arms to tell her that she was the most perfect and precious thing in this whole world, and that he was unworthy of her. 

Zoya too stole a glance at Jahanpanah under her lashes. Her heart stopped seeing him in a grey suit with a white shirt and no tie. While he looked good in anything, even a towel (she mentally slapped herself), seeing him in a suit always made her knees go weak and heart race. He looked good enough to eat. 

She shook her head and finger-combed her hair to hide her blush. God, she better stop fantasizing about him. One of her worst fears was that one night she'd cry out his name in her sleep, and everyone would hear her. 

"Zoya, I love your heels!" Exclaimed Najma suddenly, just as they were leaving. Everyone's eyes traveled to her feet. Impishly, Zoya stuck out her foot and lifted the pant leg, exposing a slender ankle wrapped in the thinnest silver anklet. She wore strappy silver slingbacks studded with crystals that perfectly set off her toenails painted a hot pink.

Asad couldn't take his eyes off those toes. They looked adorable enough to suck. If he ever did manage to get her in his bed, he'd beg her to only wear those heels, nothing else. He would hold her by her ankles, bite and lick them while gazing intently into her eyes, and pound into her till kingdom come.

Swearing under his breath Asad stalked off to his room, trying, but failing miserably, to control his breathing. He took deep breaths thinking that he'd explain his abrupt departure by saying that he'd forgotten his keys. When he stepped out, the living room was empty. 

Good. Bullet dodged.

Striding toward the main door he heard a door open and shut. He turned around to see Zoya rushing out at full speed. She was carelessly stuffing her phone in her bag, and as usual wasn't looking where she was going. 

He grabbed her wrist to break her momentum and she crashed into his chest. 

"Ms. Farooqui---!" 

She struggled to break his hold on her wrist. 

Something snapped in him. 

He couldn't let go. 

"Mr. Khan," she ground out through gritted teeth. "Please let me go."

"So that you can go ride with your precious Omi the Bimboni?" He sneered, not realizing that he was slowly stroking the inside of her wrist with his thumb. 

Oh god, she bit back a moan. Did he even know what he was doing to her? 

"It's Omar, and aapko iss se kya? Are you jealous, Mr. Khan?" She lashed out at him trying to free her hand. 

His grip tightened. Again he was unaware of the bruises he'd leave on her. Yes, goddammit, he was jealous!

Damn, he smelled good. C'mon Zoya Farooqui, get angry or you'll melt into a messy puddle right here. 

"What is it that you want? Why are you doing this? You're engaged remember? Phir mujh par kaisa haq?" she taunted, her voice rising. 

Zoya continued to struggle and he continued to thwart her attempts at digging her nails into his fingers to make him release her. This time she'd leave a mark on him too. Her fury could not be dammed any more. It was real now. She wanted to stomp all over him.

"What is this, Mr. Khan?" She stopped struggling and moved her face closer to his. Asad's eyes widened and he held his breath. "Some kind of an admission that you have a thing for me? Will you kiss me now?" 

His body leaped in response and desire made him taut.

"You think you can officially get married to Tanveer, and keep me on the side for booty calls? Will you become your father's son after all?"

"ZOYAAA!" He thundered and flung her wrist away nearly making her spin and lose her balance. 

"Chillayiye mat mujhh par! I am badtameez in your eyes, so different from you and your precious tehzeeb or lihaz, right? That is why you say hurtful things, but then you give me these mixed messages. Make up your damn mind!" She dashed the gathering moisture from her eyes.

Asad almost smiled. He loved this sight of her: chin lifted proudly in battle and fire raging in her eyes. She didn't even realize how sexy she looked. And now that she'd mentioned it, he just wanted to grab and shut her up by covering those lips with his. His eyes fixed on her lips and his head bent an inch as if drawn by a magnet. One touch, a bite, and he'd thrust his tongue in when she parted her lips and have her brand him forever.

His half-grin infuriated her even more. 

Oh really Jahanpanah? This is funny to you?

"Why does my friendship with Omar bother you, Mr. Khan? Doesn't it prove your view of me as a jeans-wearing sl*ut?"

"No! Zoya, please don't---!" His sexual haze dissolved to be replaced with anguish; he tried to hold her by her forearms to stall her self-flagellation. He didn't mind the sting of her words against him but he hated that she was cutting herself to the quick.

Her eyes blazed black. Zoya violently jerked his hands off and held up a hand to shut him up.

"Meri baat abhi khatm nahin hui hai!"

She was beginning to run out of steam, and given another second, she would start weeping.

But she would have the final word even if it killed her.  

"You know aapki problem kya hai? You don't think that what we could have had is worth fighting for. You don't have the guts to fight for a love that Allah gives only once in a lifetime. You use your seventeenth-century Jahanpanah-mode ideas as an excuse to hide behind because you're scared of being happy; because you feel that you deserve to be miserable."

"Ms. Farooqui," he growled softly. Asad crossed his arms across his chest and looked at her patiently. "Are you done?" 

"Don't! Just bloody don't, OK? I'm a strong girl and will get over even this, because you," and she stabbed his chest over his folded arms with her finger repeatedly, "are not worth it!" 

She ran out of the front door.

Oh lord help him, she was gorgeous! 

Only she could speak to him like that and diagnose everything that was wrong with him in a second.

"Tabhi aap itne badtameez hain!" In a flash he remembered their first meeting and the first of many fights. 

"Disappointed?" 

"Sorry?"

"Aapne poori koshish ki mujhe marne ki, lekin main tab bhi bach gayee." 

Asad smiled wryly. 

Oh no, Ms. Zoya Farooqui. Ab aap mujhse nahin bachengi. You can't wear your f*uck me heels and walk away from me this time. I won't let you!

Song in Title:

Ye Jawaani Hai Diwani (2013): "Subhanallah"  

Ab Jo Ghalat Tha, Wo Bhi Sahi Hai, Behosh Bhi Hoon, Pee Bhi Nahin Hai 

Chapter 21

At the restaurant everyone was introduced to one another. 

Ayaan hugged Najma and then bent to give Zoya a quick side hug, while loudly greeting her: "Mona Darling! I missed you!" 

She laughed up at him, and tried to disengage herself by playfully elbowing him. 

"Hi Raabert! I didn't miss you at all!"

Nuzzhat and Nikhat couldn't believe their eyes. Who was this girl in western clothing that Asad Bhaijaan had brought, and who Ayaan Bhaijaan was so friendly with? 

They sneaked a peek at Asad and saw him frowning. They sensed some undercurrents there, but dismissed it thinking that Bhaijaan didn't approve of girls wearing jeans. 

But who was she?

Little did they know why their Bhaijaan was looking so grim. On reaching the hotel entrance he had seen them come in on that wretched bike. 

He felt punched in the gut. 

Zoya was in the front actually riding the bike! Omar had his arms around her, his hands on the handle bar too. Their bodies touched shoulder to thigh. They both laughed as she shook off the helmet. In blind fury, Asad had marched up to rage and rail at them, just barely having recovered from the near-heart attack. 

"Ms. Farooqui! How can you be so reckless?" 

He savagely turned on Omar, "How could you let her ride? What if she'd had an accident?" 

Omar had held up his hands defensively, "hey buddy, you try saying no to her!"

At those words Asad had looked guiltily at Zoya's crestfallen face. 

He knew exactly what she was thinking. 

"He already did."

His impotent fingers curled around his car keys punishingly.

When he looked back at her a few minutes later he saw her head bent, hair curtaining her face, and shoulders stooped. Omar had his arm protectively around her and was leaning toward her as if trying to comfort her. She had been momentarily happy, and he had stomped all over that too like a rampaging elephant in musth! He should be hanging his head in shame, he chided himself. 

C'mon Zoya, stay mad at me, he silently urged her. Please!

Meanwhile, Humaira's heart sank as she laid eyes on the kind of girl she knew Ayaan always liked. She noticed with dismay how his gaze lingered on her, and how he eagerly jumped to sit next to her at the table. 

In all of this, no one noticed the pall that had fallen on Tanu's face at the sight of Imran. He too had paled when being introduced to Asad's future fiance.

Soon everyone was seated at the large round table set away from the main dining room providing more privacy for bigger parties. Nuzzhat wanted to know everything about America, and both Zoya and Omar filled her in. Whenever Zoya flagged, Omar picked up the conversation thread. They painted such a fun picture, that she wanted to go right away. Ayaan self-importantly promised her that he would take her there one day. 

Omar was pissed at Asad and glared at him for the stunt he had just pulled in the parking lot. Zo had only just begun to smile after leaving home. He knew something had happened before they left. He had a good mind to rake him over hot coals for being a complete jerk to Zoya. 

But when he looked at Asad again, he noticed pain etched across his face. 

He shook his head in disbelief. 

What was wrong with these two? What was the hold up? 

May be, he needed to push Zo's Mr. Khan over the edge. 

May be just a tad.

He looked up and noticed Ayaan looking at him funny. 

He chuckled to himself. Whoda thunk it? Zo sure had made many conquests here. 

He covered Zoya's hand with his, and deliberately leaned in intimately. From the corner of his eye he noticed Asad nearly shoot out of his chair. 

Good. Eat your heart out buddy. 

Or man the hell up.

Nuzzhat just had to know how Ayaan knew Zoya so well, so he and Najma (who, by now, was an expert on the topic as well), regaled everyone with the story of their conspiracy against Bhaijaan. They competed with each other on reporting how Bhaijaan would get so annoyed, and call her a musibat and gairzimmedaar because she would always argue with him and challenge his decisions.

Zoya's heart constricted at those words and broke into a million pieces as she ducked her head and tried to bite her lips to keep them from quivering. Shit. C'mon Zo, don't you dare crack up here. But she couldn't help replay Mr. Khan's words, his anger, his loathing for someone like her.

"Mujhe uss din ka intezaar hai ki kab aap meri zindagi se ruksat hongi," he'd said in Mangalpur. 

He was right, wasn't he? She was a musibat. 

She wanted to run out and keep running. Only gripping the table's edge and letting its sharp side dig into her palms was keeping her here. Once again she'd made a royal fool of herself in front of him at home. Why couldn't she just shut her stupid mouth? Each time she opened it, she blurted out her heart.

Asad was sitting directly opposite her. His heart slammed against his chest as he felt helpless seeing the spark in her eyes dim. 

Again.

For a second, her alarmed gaze had skittered to him, and her widening eyes had pooled with anguish. She was biting her lips now. They'd be swollen soon. He groaned. He wanted to rub his thumb over them and cradle her head in his arms. 

Asad saw Omar's hand tighten on hers and Zoya turn to him gratefully. 

He couldn't take his eyes off their clasped hands. It burned a hole in his hollow chest. He should be holding her hand! He would lift it to his lips and kiss it. He's go down on his knees and slip a ring on her finger promising to do right by her forever. 

Asad squeezed his eyes shut and sighed. 

He could only flex his arm and clench his fist in frustration. She shouldn't have to sit through a recounting of how, for months, he had viewed her so negatively and been so vocally critical of her. It was wrong. If she only knew what he thought and felt about her now. 

But how could she? The only side of his he had ever shown her was that of a prickly and judgmental ass.

He quickly distracted Ayaan by mentioning Mukka Ahmed Khan, and whether he wanted an action replay of the Operation Pyaasi Atma climax. 

Everyone laughed.  

Ayaan held his ears. 

Omar wanted to know what Pyaasi Atma was all about so Najma filled him in shyly. He looked at Zoya in amazement, and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. 

"Seriously? The more things change the more they remain the same, right Zo?" 

She laughed up at him. 

Thank god, Omar was here. 

With his other hand he covered hers and squeezed it comfortingly. He let his hand linger on hers.

Across the table, a water goblet tipped over.

The drinks and appetizers soon arrived, and the dinner order was being placed. Zoya overheard Asad's order and panicked. 

He probably had no idea about Thai food. 

She cleared her throat and looked at the server. "Doesn't that have peanuts?" 

Asad caught on, and quickly told the server about his allergy. The waiter assured him that he would tell the chef and that they would take the utmost care with his order.

Asad stewed. He was such a fool. How could he have forgotten something so important? She had remembered even though he had bitten her head off and made her cry the last time when he thought she had deliberately fed him peanuts to keep him from testifying against his father. 

What was she made of? He'd just yelled at her and here she was already looking out for him. How was he ever going to be able to make up for everything he had done to hurt her?

Tanu felt like choking Zoya. Why couldn't she have thought of that? She felt like kicking herself. One more reason for him to behave like a lovesick puppy now, she fumed. 

She needed to salvage the situation quickly. 

Placing her hand possessively on his arm, she exclaimed, "thank goodness for Zoya! Jammy, you have to be more careful about your health. Zoya won't always be here to remind you each time. She'll be leaving pretty soon. Though she must have remembered how it was her food that led to your last allergy attack. That was the most severe attack you've had, right?" 

He hated Tanu right then, and moved his arm out of her grasping claws. 

Asad looked at Zoya and saw her hide behind the leather-bound menu card.

He felt anger bubble up inside him.

"No, it wasn't Ms. Farooqui's fault then, because she didn't know about my allergies. In fact, her quick thinking saved my life that day. And apparently today too. I should have remembered, it was really careless of me." 

Omar raised his eyebrows and silently approved. 

Now that's what I'm talking about, Mr. Khan!

Tanu fumed. This was not going well at all. First, to have to sit at the same table as Imran, and now Jammy becoming Zoya's gushing cheerleader. 

Still, all was not lost. 

She began to imperially question Nikhat and Nuzzhat about what they were doing in college. 

Nikhat replied in hushed tones.

The men talked stiltedly about sports and politics. 

Zoya couldn't believe her ears. Jahanpanah had actually stood up for her in front of everyone! She wanted to do her happy dance. She looked up to see him watching her anxiously, and beamed her full dimpled smile at him. 

His ears reddened.

Looking away, she noticed that Humaira seemed lost and heartsick. She asked Ayaan to switch places with her so that she could be next to Humaira. 

After settling down, she asked her how she'd done in the fashion show. 

"How do you know?" asked Humaira in bewilderment.

"I was there. Don't you remember how nervous you were?"

"You were the one in the burqa who gave me the confidence to go up on stage!" exclaimed an excited and grateful Humaira. 

Zoya blushed. "I didn't do anything. It was all you. You looked beautiful by the way. And the idiot who didn't see that isn't worthy of you," she said making a face at Ayaan who was talking to Omar. 

Omar saw her looking his way and winked at her impishly. She narrowed her eyes at him playfully. She looked across at Mr. Khan and saw that he was openly staring at her. Not with anger or guilt or even jealousy, but something else entirely in his eyes. 

She dragged her eyes away.

Humaira went on sadly, "I don't know what I was thinking. That's not me at all. I prefer to dress more simply. But Ayaan seems to like girls who dress smartly like you."

Zoya sensed a kindred spirit and her heart went out to this young girl smarting from being neglected by the one she obviously loved. Here was someone feeling exactly the same as her: inadequate and lacking, and unable to be the kind of girl that the men they had fallen in love with, liked. 

Damn those Khan brothers!

She held Humaira's hand under the table and when she looked up, she said softly, "isn't it funny? The person I ... I like, doesn't really like that I dress this way. Nor does he approve of what I do or think, for that matter. But I've only just begun to stop feeling sorry for myself." 

She squeezed Humaira's hand, "and you know what helps? Getting mad!"

They both smiled at one another with watery eyes. Zoya picked up her Diet Coke and saluted her sister in arms with it. 

Humaira laughed and picked up her Orange juice and did the same. 

They clinked their glasses and took a sip to toast their strength. 

Zoya began to ask her about her classes. Nuzzhat joined in too, and somehow she and Humaira were talking of the episode in college when Zoya had entangled with some eve teasers who were bothering Najma.

They didn't realize that the conversation around them had come to a stand still. 

Humaira was on a roll and spoke with admiration, "but you were so brave that day! We heard how you saved Najma from those goons and how the principal mistakenly had you arrested. In fact we organized a rally the next day to protest against it and demand those boys' suspension." 

She didn't realize that everyone was staring at them.

"That was you?" exclaimed Ayaan gleefully. "Mona Darling that was so awesome! You are such a Jhansi ki Rani."

"Jail!" croaked Omar in splits. "Too much! Apun ki Buffy the Vampire Slayer! How many did you send to the hospital?" 

He dodged the napkin she lobbed at him, nearly wheezing with laughter now. "But that was badass! You're awesome, you know that? I love you!"

There, that should light a fire under the jackass' butt.

Zoya guiltily looked up at Mr. Khan. What the hell was Omar up to? And oh my god, Mr. Khan would go apesh*it over this jail story! 

She and Najma had decided not to tell him of Najma's involvement in that incident when he had bailed her out of jail with barely repressed anger. She saw him grip the knife on the table and noticed that his knuckes were white. Her heart plummeted. Was he thinking the same things he'd said to her that day? Because if he said another angry word to her she would probably burst into a million tears right here and make a complete ass of herself. He stared at the plate in front of him, not meeting her glance or looking at Najma. Both she and Najma were terrified that Asad would explode in anger at hearing this recap. 

But he remained silent.

Nuzzhat and Ayaan gushed on about how the whole college had admired the courage of a girl who had dared to stop those hooligans, when they were the ones who should have been jailed.

Everyone wanted to know what had happened afterwards. 

Zoya and Najma looked at each other in alarm remembering Mr. Khan's volatile temper and harsh words. 

Najma tried to make light of the whole thing by comically telling them that Bhaijaan was really mad and how she and Ammi were terrified, she rolled her eyes and clutched her heart dramatically, but how even then, Zoya wouldn't back down as she had demanded that he apologize to her for being rude. 

Everyone raised their eyebrows admiringly at Zoya's spunk. One did not go up against Asad Ahmed Khan and live to tell about it.

Omar did an exaggerated slow clap, "good girl!" He even got up and stood behind her chair to hug her tightly. He looked at Asad, issuing him a direct challenge by kissing the top of her head. 

If this doesn't do it, then that tight-assed moron doesn't deserve her.

Najma went on to tell them, rubbing her hands with glee, how Zoya got her revenge. When Bhaijaan refused to apologize, Zoya tampered with his phone and added a voice password so that each time he took a call, he had to say, "I am sorry Zoya," to unlock his phone.

Everyone roared with laughter. 

Omar slapped his palm on the table with glee. "That's my girl!"  

Zoya breathed a sigh a of relief and smiled slightly, even laughing when Ayaan turned toward her and bowed waving both his hands in front of him in her honor.

Asad felt his world tilt. She had not just saved Najma from gundas that day, but also silently borne his apoplectic lashing out against her without uttering a single word to implicate his sister? 

It was something he would have done for Ayaan or his sisters. 

He stole a look at her and nearly wept to see her laughing with Omar, Ayaan and Humaira. That was the day that he had nearly blurted out, "main aap jaisi ladki se nafrat karta hoon." 

He had been so furious at her, that he had yelled at her about her being a negative influence on Najma. He had raged against her lack of a decent upbringing and how her parents must have been too busy to teach her any manners or, raise her right. 

He deserved to say "I'm sorry Zoya," a million times, to her face, for the rest of his life. 

Asad noticed that she had left the table to go to the restroom. Excusing himself to make an urgent phone call, he decided to follow her. He didn't care how it looked, or whether anyone would wonder at their absence. 

He had to talk to her. 

He would break Omi's bony touchy-feely ass later. 

Asad missed Omar's smirk behind his back. 

Atta boy!

Song in Title:

Son of Sardar (2012): "Yeh Jo Halki Halki Khumariyaan"