Chapter no. 16: The Grief (I)

Qandeel entered her street, forlorn. She could still not believe what Rohail said over the phone, she was numb. Both Ilaaf and Rohail were either unashamedly lying or it was the worst nightmare she has ever had, Qandeel thought to herself.

Standing at the start of her street, she tried to feel the place. Everything appeared normal in the little poles of light surrounding the front doors of the homes in the pre-dawn light and she wanted to believe that everything was alright, that she would knock on the door and her Baba would emerge, smiling. He would cry out, “Qandeel you came.” would spread his arms, ready to hide her from whole world, from every nightmare. She would nestle in his arms and would cry; out of happiness and the sorrow which she endured alone, Qandeel had already played this scene in her mind a thousand times. She was too tired and exhausted to draw the line between reality and illusions. She didn’t know whom to trust. Her tears were unstoppable, making impossible for her to make sense of anything and she wanted to believe what she desired to see.  

She came forward on shaky legs.

“I am sure I am right. Ilaaf is a liar and he must have made Rohail lie too. Or else how can such a thing happen. How can Allah be that cruel to me? He is well aware that Baba is my only relation in this world so He can’t just take him from me like this. I know, Ilaaf’s lie will be caught and Baba is alright.” She was in denial. Something was pondering her heart with a fear of a little child. If there would present some sand in that street then probably she would have hid her head there like an ostrich until Baba would come and take her home.

She wanted to stop, to turn her back to all of this but her limbs were acting on their own, she didn’t know why. Her whole being was in search of only one answer.

“Where is Baba?”

She didn’t have the heart to know anything else for what she had already learned, the knowledge and consciousness accumulated in this lifetime would last long for her to woe over an eternity…

Nearing her house, she saw that the door was open and there were men, lots of them, standing outside it. Why Baba left the door open and why, she wondered, there are so many men present here at this hour. Did Baba decide to lead the prayers today? But how can that be?

She stopped in front of her door and searched for her Baba’s face among them. He wasn’t there. May be he was preparing for the prayer; she consoled herself.

“Qandeel is here.” She heard one of them saying. Every eye was now trained at her as if she was a beggar and nobody could decide what they should give her that would satisfy her.

With her eyes full of questions, she made her way through this sea of men. She came inside her house and that too was filled with people she had neither seen nor wished to see.

She passed the door but this single step took her outside the home rather than inside.

Her feet felt that of lead and eyes wished to see the sun for the last time which nurtured her light for years and taught her to pass it on to others always. She did not have the heart to engage with anybody until she saw her Baba.

Qandeel was taking everything in; the silence among the group of women was explosive. Downgrading sympathy, sadness mingled in hate, and the mocking sorrow eluded her. She pushed herself for one last chance of reaching to him, to hug him, to cry in his arms. She willed her fate to spare her for that last long.

Somebody’s voice fell on Qandeel’s ears, “May Allah never disgrace any father with such a daughter.”

“She ruined her father at his old age.”

“He loved her so much. He gave her so much freedom and she tarnished his name.”

“God forbid, which course, other than refuge in grave, is left for the one whose daughter remains outdoor for four days.” 

There was no need to see who fired these canons. Qandeel felt a hand over her arm; she looked up and saw Hamza Shahid. There were others also; Saqib, Kamran Ali, Sohail bhai, Sami, and Rohail. She wanted to grab Rohail by his collar and ask him where he hid Baba but this felt like too much effort when she was totally drained of strength.

“Qandeel, my child.” Hamza Shahid aptly borrowed Baba’s endearment.

She instantaneously shrugged his hand off her arm as if he was taking her away from Baba.

“Where’s Baba?” The wild pitch was unfamiliar even to her ears. Nobody replied to her query.

She looked at each of their faces then pushing Kamran Ali out of her way Qandeel headed for the main courtyard. It was filled with women and reading Qandeel’s visage clearly, they moved aside to make way for her.

She suddenly stopped in the middle of the courtyard.

The day of resurrection pauses everything. The breeze, the clouds, the sun and its light, the waving of leaves, the movement of trees, the sounds of animals, the sea, the beauty of the river, the falling water, the sliding plant, the eyes, the view, the senses, breathing and heartbeat, everything pauses. And so everything paused for her. Her entire universe shrunk to the single point.

“She proved to be unlucky for Yusuf regardless he always loved her.” A woman said.

“Indeed. She killed her mother when she came into this world and now she disgraced her father, which he couldn’t take and died.”

Qandeel ignored what she was hearing because what she was seeing was enough to take her sanity away.

Her last wish was granted but how incomplete it was; he didn’t smile nor hugged her. She imagined him looking at her the way he used to, nothing of that sort happened. Qandeel never wished for a partial meeting with her Baba.

Qandeel wanted to go forward and call out to him rather she took a step and fell down. Somebody took hold of her. She looked up at the face. Maryam. The look Qandeel gave her was that one of total helplessness and pity.

“I need to go to Baba.” Her voice came out of a raven and she had galloped back to the old times when she was a little girl and used to call her Baba whenever she fell down in the playground. And she wished that she would remained a child forever and never grew up so none of this would have happened with her nor she would lose Baba.

Maryam helped her to straighten up and walk.

Qandeel felt like she’s finally home when she saw him lying in his bedstead. She sat near him, staring at his serene face. Then she felt the urge to say something to him and let that urge drive her.

“Baba wake up. You were always punctual for fajr prayer so get up, it’s time.” She took his face in her hands and poured her heart out through her eyes and words. “You promised that you’d wait for me. Why don’t you look at me? I am the same, cool of your eyes. Please at least grace me with your smile.” Fear of unknown was gripping at her heart – fast. Her eyes were streaming, her mind stopped denying what her heart already accepted long ago. She was being sawed to pieces. “Wake up, just wake up for once then me too will sleep here in your arms. Open your eyes please, Baba, call my name, anything, just for once.”

In the beam light of that morning the breeze had suddenly whispered. Qandeel heard that whisper in her ears clearly.

“Sing me that song again, please. Let me laugh once more let me live Baba. Your Qandeel is desperately waiting for you.” She could feel her voice drowning in her pain.

“Qandeel, please control.” Maryam sat beside her, holding her by shoulders. She too was crying. How could Qandeel control herself? She was the poorest person in this world. Every relation, her only support was taken from her.

Qandeel looked at Baba again and her grief found the right words. She sang tunelessly.

Everybody gawked at her. She was crying and singing and nobody could make out her words but she didn’t care.

They always sang this song at 23^rd March and she realized – belatedly - that was 23^rd of March. In a while, sun will be up and everybody will congratulate each other the blessing day. There will be nobody to congratulate her or sing with her all those national songs. It stung hard. Her eyes welled up again. “Baba for God’s sake don’t leave me alone. I will not be able to live without you, please don’t leave me behind.” She was wailing but nothing could make the difference.

Hamza Yusuf came to sit beside her. He took her face in his hands and said, “Sweetheart, don’t cry. Your Baba always wanted to see you smiling and it will hurt him so much if he’d see you now, crying like this. You have always been brave, braver than us, you must make an effort now, for your Baba.”

“I am not brave. Not anymore. I have become an orphan. Why should I be brave now when the one who was my only support left me. Why should I live anymore?” She looked up to his face. His eyes were moist, then he pulled Qandeel towards him, and they both cried together for the man they both loved immensely.

Hamza Shahid kept on consoling her but she was unable to stop her tears. It was the only way to express her deep sorrow over her grave loss.

“Sir, we have 15 minutes to take Yusuf Mairaj to masjid and perform the final rituals for the funeral.” Qandeel jerked her head up at the word of funeral and looked Kamran Ali. Whose funeral are they talking about! She asked herself. “He specifically willed being buried before sun starts to decline.” They were talking about taking Baba somewhere. She didn’t want him to go anywhere. She looked at Hamza Shahid that may be he would intervene but she was disappointed to hear his reply.

“Yes. We must not take anymore time.” He stood up and helped Qandeel to get up too. She looked between Kamran Ali and Hamza Shahid, her mind was spinning.

Hamza Shahid asked Maryam to hold Qandeel. She could feel more than a pair on her shoulders. They were taking Baba away from her. Forever. She will never be able to see him again. Agony. She freed herself and ran to Hamza Shahid. She knew she couldn’t halt so many men at a time so she sat on the floor and held Hamza Shahid by his legs and begged.

“Please don’t take away Baba just yet. For God’s sake let him stay with me.” She was crying, pleading all at the same time.

“Maryam, please hold Qandeel.” Maryam and two other women stepped out to hold her back from the procession. She wailed, tried to fight them off but they kept on going. She tried to struggle once more and succeeded. Qandeel freed from that prison of hands leaving behind her stole went to courtyard, bare feet bare head she was running behind the men when she slipped on the wet floor, her legs twisted at an odd angle and she fell down. Her knees were badly bruised and she was not able to get up now. Her helplessness made her weep once more.

“Do not take Baba away.” She said into the floor and bowed her down like in prostration. She wanted to become the part of that floor.

“Qandeel, don’t be foolish. Try to be reasonable. C’mon, get up. Let me see your wound.” Maryam came to help her.

“I don’t want to go anywhere. I want to die. I don’t want to live without Baba.” And started hitting her head on the floor. Someone rolled her on her back. She was too dizzy to see or hear. Her world was setting into darkness.

Qandeel was a 5-year-old girl. She was sitting in a swing and calling her Baba to help her get down.

“Baba please come here and help me get down.”

Yusuf Mairaj came out from kitchen, smiling. “How did you climb into it?” He inquired; lifting her off from it, kissing her cheek.  

“With the help of the stool.” She replied.

“And where is that stool now?” He teased her.

“Swing pushed it away.” She pouted.

“My little angel is so brave.” Yusuf Mairaj said, delighted.

“I am a brave daughter of a brave Baba.” Qandeel elaborated, too pleased with herself.

The scene changed. Sometimes she was hurt from the stairs; sometimes a quarrel took place with her playmates. And every time she had her Baba by her side. She was ecstatic.

She opened her eyes and saw Maryam instead of Baba.

“Bring Baba.” She moaned like a child, sobbing. Then darkness came over. This hide and seek went on; whenever she opened her eyes, somebody was always present by her side. Maryam, Hamza Shahid, Rohail took turns among them and she always begged for her Baba but nobody ever called him, suddenly everybody became heartless for her.

Qandeel felt someone pinching her arm when she fell into unconscious last time. In the thick haze of unconsciousness, she recognized the action to be of her school friend who irritated Qandeel to death all the time for her pinching habit. But the voice belonged to somebody else. She didn’t have strength to make an effort on confirming her perception so she let herself drift away. The scene changed again.

“Qandeel is having a CND attack.” A voice exclaimed in the background.

She wasn’t in school, rather at some river. It was turquoise in color. She was standing on the shore. The evening colors reflecting on it’s surface looked wonderful. There were plants filled with amethyst and orange flowers that were picturesque. The golden sand on the shore shimmered and reflected back the lights. Qandeel felt like she was in a paradise. 

The air was chilled. She was shivering despite of wearing a wool coot and boots. She leisurely walked along the shore. The pebbles on there were worth seeing. Qandeel started picking them up and filled her pockets with them. She spotted a house there while collecting the pebbles. It was so beautiful that the scene was incomplete without it. It was made with the unique mixture of stone and wood. There were stairs going into the house. There was a balcony facing up the river and then rooms behind it. Bougainville surrounded the roof and front of the house, it looked exquisite. At the center of the second floor, there was a clock. One of it’s needle seemed like that of pure gold and the other was shining like a diamond. The khaki clock enhanced the red color of the roof and chimney. Both floors had numerous windows decorated with wooden frames. The design engraved in the frames was so fine; it could be seen from the distance. The doorways were wide enough for the whole convoys to pass through them. The pillars seemed to be made of clay. The mountains behind the house indicated to the fact that she was outside the city at some unknown place.

 There were stairs which looked too natural to be made by man. These were total 14 and each unique in their own style. It was impossible to ascend them without stumbling over them. She studied them for a while then started climbing them carefully, enjoying each difficult step. When she came at the top, she looked around and wondered who possibly could live here and then she heard somebody calling her name. The voice came from the stairs. Standing at the eighth step was none other than Ilaaf. She was very exasperated. He arrived even at this place. She started coming downstairs angrily. He was looking at her. She gave him a spiteful look and continued going down. But then at the last step she felt something drawing her to halt. She looked back; Ilaaf was turned away from her. She felt like she wanted to go back to him but she had come too far to retreat so she turned away too. Then he started to call her name again. She wanted to plug her ears to ignore his voice.

“I am giving her a tranquilizer. She’ll be alright when she wakes up in the morning.”

She crossed the last step and ran in no particular direction, away from this man and his shadow. 

(Special thanks to Noor-e-Hira Shamim for translating this post)

Chapter no. 15: A Meeting, A Separation (IV)

There was nothing to make this constant darkness in his life go away but a sound like a whistle, which was pushing it quite amazingly. The sound was so near to him that he was compelled to get up and pay heed to it. He was sleeping like this after such a long time so he was very angry at the caller whoever that was.

He got up and checked the time. It was few minutes to 1 in the morning. He checked the caller, Rohail, he was quite surprise and then worry took over.

“What is wrong? Couldn’t you wait for morning? I was sleeping after such a long time.” He said in a sleepy voice.

“Only you and your father can sleep in these circumstances, Ilaaf.” Rohail’s cold tone and the taunt wiped the sleep off from his eyes.

“I don’t know about my father but I had been sleeping after so many days and you are very well aware of it.”

“I would have believed you if I hadn’t known you better. I cannot believe you tried to satisfy yourself in the name of your father and have kept Qandeel for four days.” Ilaaf felt like he was slapped squarely in the face. He was insulted. He was stunned for a moment and then said.

“I hadn’t ever thought that you too would think about me in that way.” He replied.

“And I also had never thought that you would take part in that saga with your father. I am aware of your helplessness in the case but your silence in Qandeel’s kidnap proves that you’re equally involved in it.”

“I cannot explain it to you nor do I want to. And it doesn’t even matter since the person who should believe me is not ready to listen to me then why should I bother with others!” He was hurt.

Rohail was silent at other end. May be he was trying to digest these revelations.

“Why didn’t you do something to free her?” He inquired after a very long pause.

“Baba Saayin’s threats have reduced me to nothing. I cannot dare endanger her life like this.”

“You need to take her to home right now. Under present circumstances, you must not worsen your already tarnished position.”

“That’s not possible. Baba Saayin have given ultimatum that Qandeel cannot be freed until case is decided and we’ll have to face extreme consequences if I try any such thing. In addition, this time these are not mere threats. He’s quite serious and dangerous.” He sighed and rested his head on sofa.

“You have to, no matter what or else you’ll never be able to face her.”

“As if I can at present.”

“But then there will not be a single chance. Qandeel will never forgive you if you don’t concede now.”

“Whatever has happened?” He inquired carelessly.

“Yusuf Mairaj has been died.” Ilaaf felt like sky had fallen over him. “Even if you’re not directly responsible for his death, you’re included among those factors which led to this and we’ll not be able to help you in anyway if Qandeel decides to hold you responsible for it.” He felt like somebody had snatched the ground from under his feet and he was suddenly transported to vacuum. Rohail was dead right about Qandeel holding him responsible for everything including her father’s death but at this moment he wasn’t concerned about any such thing. Instead, he was grieving over a compassionate heart, which he had lost forever. His eyes filled up on their own.

“Ilaaf, are you there?” What could he have said. He wept silently but somehow the intense grief let loose and he cried without holding down any of it. Rohail got worried over this new situation.

“Take control of yourself, Ilaaf. Qandeel has got only you now and you’ll have to help her endure it. Please be with her, support her, no matter how she reacts.” He couldn’t comprehend how he was going to be her support when he himself was robbed of his only hope.

The momentum of the situation just hit him and he realized how much he counted on Yusuf Mairaj about his present dilemma. He was the only person who always told him that things would be right once again, that Qandeel will believe- he’s innocent- one day, and she loves him. He was the only and such a great man, who had always stood by him and soothed his heart of his grief and encouraged him.

He dried his eyes and tried to compose himself for the coming task. Rohail was continuously assuring him but he couldn’t make out his words as he was thinking about other hard facts, such as, his reaction to Yusuf Mairaj’s death. He wondered would he react the same way if he hears that his Baba or Dada Saayin died; and the answer was quite apparent. Blood relations are not all of it. There are some other lofty relations, which are unconditional and unequivocal. And same way if blood-relations are proposed with condition, if there’s selfishness behind motives then they become weak and insignificant. And Ilaaf was going through the same phase. Those whom he was part of were sacrificing him for their own interests and the irony was; he was mourning over a man, as if he was orphaned, whom he had met just thrice.

“Why is it happening to me, Rohail? Why me?” He was crushed.

“Why Qandeel, Ilaaf? Why she has to go through all of it? She has been snatched her only relation in this world just because of you, she is being made fun of publicly, being disgraced just because she spoke truth. Isn’t it quite too much of a punishment for her truth?” Rohail had made him realize her impediment. Rohail had gotten emotional too, so he continued bitterly, “And look at the irony; you who claims to love her or I for being her friend have left her alone in this mess. We are just watching her being disgraced.”

Ilaaf was agonized. He felt like his heart would burst out but nothing of the sort happened.

They were both silent for a time, then Rohail said, “Anyway, we must focus on present situation. If you want to give yourself a chance with Qandeel then you must take her to her home before dawn. Uncle Yusuf will be buried after Fajar prayer and you’d surely not want Qandeel to lose the chance of seeing her father for the last time.”

He felt he had taken a permanent role of an oppressor in Qandeel’s life. He disconnected the call and sat down, head in hands. He was thinking about how he would break this news for her and how she’d react. He was cursing his fate at large. He stood up anyhow and went to freshen up. While washing his face, he thought soon Qandeel would either be slapping this very face or spitting on it. Or worse, she’d lose her senses. He had witnessed how much she loved Yusuf Mairaj; he had been whole world for him since her childhood and he had the inkling of knowing what it feels like to lose all of your relations in just a blink of an eye. And would he be contented to just stand there and watch her suffer, part of her dying and he doing nothing?

There was none of the happiness, contentment, peace left in his life anyway.

He put on his sandals, took the keys for Qandeel’s room, braced himself for the upcoming tornado and came out of his room. Farmhouse was silent. Adnan had come back late in the evening and so he was sleeping, against his habit.

He had thought-out the plan in his head en-route Qandeel’s room. He had decided he would ignore Baba Saayin and Adnan until after he has taken Qandeel to her home. He had been compelled to pass another test amidst of so many and he didn’t want to fail this one at least, no matter what. Qandeel had lost her father because of him, now he didn’t want to add another cruelty over it by refusing her the last chance of seeing her father before his burial.

He unlocked the door quietly and closed it after him. He didn’t want anybody to wake up and find out and for that he had to be careful. He wasn’t even sure how she’d react, hence closed the door to avoid commotion.

The room was dimly lit. He opened more lights and came to Qandeel’s side. She was sleeping peacefully and he hated to interrupt her but he didn’t have any choice. He had to act fast.

He switched on the lamp on her side but she didn’t budge. He was unsure so he called her name. She moved a little but didn’t wake up. He had to shake her to wake her up.

She woke up with a start and her sleepy eyes widened when she saw Ilaaf.

Ilaaf stepped away a little.

“You, here, at this hour?” Surprise had made her incoherent. She got up and wore her dupatta.

“Yes, I came here to wake you up.” He didn’t know what else to offer.

“But why?” She was perplexed.

“I need you to come with me, quietly. I am taking you home before dawn.”  He said.

“But a little while ago you were listing off all the dangerous consequences that will follow if I leave here before the case is decided, so why the sudden change of mind?” She wasn’t content with his first answer.

“This is no time to argue. Do as I say and come with me. I cannot answer all of your questions as of yet.”

“But still, I will not come with you until you tell me the reason. I don’t trust you anymore.” For a moment he was angry at her stubbornness but then he caught control of himself and said.

“I will tell you on our way, right now my priority is to take you home safely and it’ll be very difficult for me if Adnan wakes up, so please try to understand.”

“OK, I am ready.”

Ilaaf cautioned her to come after him without making any noise. Qandeel put on her sandals and followed him. Lounge was empty and silent. Taking her along with him, he passed through the main entrance. Adnan’s Prado wasn’t in the porch which was a good sign for Ilaaf. He already had his key and pistol, for just in case, with him.

They came out of the main gate. Gatekeeper wasn’t at his place so they kept on going towards the car and then at that very moment the gatekeeper materialized out of nowhere.

Ilaaf came to attention at once, ready to act.

“Sahab, where are you going? And this girl…” Gatekeeper’s mind reeled for a second to see her outside and he took off his pistol from the holster.

Ilaaf moved her behind him in no time.

“It’s necessary that we leave now Basheer. Don’t stop us.” Ilaaf said to now-very-alerted-gatekeeper.  

“You can go wherever you want to but she will stay here. And Lala has ordered that if she tries to run away then I can shoot her.” Chills ran down Ilaaf’s spine on his words.

“Then, shoot. And shoot at me first so that you get the best from your Lala.” Ilaaf’s fury rendered gatekeeper confused. Ilaaf took his pistol out of his shirt and removing it’s safety catch aimed at Basheer.

“Your Lala will kill you if you even so much as lay a finger on me. Whereas I can shoot you and none will hold me for anything.” This was not Basheer was prepared for. He couldn’t decide whether he should act or not.

“Open the car and wait for me.” Ilaaf brought Qandeel from behind him and handed her car keys. 

Ilaaf kept his pistol pointed at Basheer until Qandeel was inside the car.

“Turn around and put your hands behind your back.” He ordered him.

When he didn’t act, Ilaaf snatched his pistol from him and forced him to face the wall. He hit him hard enough to make him unconscious, at the back of his head. Basheer fell to the ground with a small scream.

Ilaaf made sure he’ll not be up for few hours and then went to the car. He put the pistol on dashboard, took car keys from Qandeel and soon they were on the road. He deliberately avoided main road for the fear of being chased. In dark, their car moved on the by-road used for carts. Qandeel was silent. He couldn’t tell if she was frightened or anxious.

He was in great consternation because he couldn’t bring up the courage to tell Qandeel the reason for this escape. There was total silence in the car, which Qandeel broke as if on a cue.

“May I now know the reason for all this?” He turned towards her. There was innocence, contentment and may be happiness as well, of going home after such a long time but she didn’t know that the person, whom she thought would be anticipating her arrival, is no longer in this world.  

He had never pitied himself in life ever but he did now...Intensely. How was he going to ruin her happiness, to bring her to reality, he didn’t know. And just then, when he was contemplating of the ways, more undecided than ever, his cell phone rang relieving him of his dilemma.

It was Rohail and he was inquiring after Qandeel.

“She’s with me. I am taking her home.” He relied on short replies, still avoiding the main point.

“Have you told her the news?”

“No.”

“Then? You must tell her or the sudden shock will be dangerous for her.”

“You tell her yourself.” He said gravely.

“You will not tell her?”

“No.” The negation ringed clearly in his voice.

“OK. Let me talk to her.” Rohail braced himself.

Ilaaf looked at Qandeel who was trying to guess the caller and the subject and apparently failing to grasp the sense of the conversation. He handed her cell phone.

“Who is it?” She asked, who was in total suspense by now.

“It’s Rohail.” His manner still grave.

Qandeel put it to her ear.

Ilaaf’s concentration zeroed in to Qandeel’s reaction. He kept his gaze on the windscreen and even stopped breathing so that he would be able to hear even the quietest sound, sob, hitch of a breath, anything from her. Every muscle in his body strained and in state of waiting as if in survival instinct mode. That strain became to unbearable point and still no sound came.

He thought about slowing down the car in order to check but then a sound made him turn his head without thinking. Qandeel was silent, still and cell phone had slipped from her hand.

“Qandeel?” He slowed down the car and called her name.

He called her twice and when she didn’t respond, he shook her and she felt as if made of sand, boneless. Ilaaf brought the car to sudden halt and she falling face down hit her head on dashboard. If Ilaaf hadn’t caught her hold then she would have hit wind screen. He pulled the hand break of the car and tended to Qandeel. He straightened her. There was a thin line of blood trickling down the side of her face.

“Qandeel.” Pulling her closer to himself, he wiped the blood off her face. She was white like a sheet and was staring at Ilaaf without looking at him.

“Qandeel, please stay with me.” She didn’t respond. She was out of herself.

She was stone cold. He turned off the car air conditioning system, pushed her gently to the back of the seat and bandaged her bruise. Qandeel tried to drag air inside her but failed. When he sat back she leaned out of the seat, held the dashboard with both hands and her body jerked a few times.

Ilaaf was perplexed, he wasn’t sure what to do so he pulled her closer to him and hugged her fiercely. He rolled down the car windows so that fresh air would come inside. She was trying to breathe but couldn’t seem to take the air inside. He patted her cheek and her back to help her breathe but it didn’t work. She closed her eyes and slipped away.

He sat with her for some time then put her in her seat and pulled the seatbelt across her. He started the car and parked it on a dirt way, where it was out of the sight of passer-bys.

He switched off the engine and looked at her. She was sleeping. He checked her pulse which was normal. It eased his mind. He decided he’d not go further until Qandeel is not in better shape. Main City was at half hour’s drive now so he wasn’t in any hurry. He looked for his cell phone on the car’s floor which was lying near her feet. He came out of the car and left the car doors open, as a precaution so that fresh air would keep circulate. He went to an opening, near trees and chose a trunk from where he would be able to keep an eye on both his car and Qandeel. He called Rohail and told him about Qandeel’s condition and suggested him to inform Kamran Ali as well so that they would wait if they get late arriving at the place. Rohail was disturbed by this but they had to wait for Qandeel to get better.

He disconnected the call, leaned onto the tree and closed his eyes. But he was still in turmoil so started to pace up the area. When walking also didn’t soothe his nerves then he resorted to only course. He went to the car, she was still sleeping. He took out his cigarette packet, when he was coming out of the car his eyes fell on his pistol and he threw it on backseat.

He lit a cigarette after cigarette and still he wasn’t at ease. He had become so engrossed in thinking that he forgot about his car and Qandeel. She had woken up and without even knowing where she was, she had started walking in no particular direction.

Pacing up and down,he looked towards his car and he almost had a mini heart attack. Qandeel was not in the car as he had left her. He threw away his cig and frantically ran towards his car. She was not around it. He looked ahead in the road and there she was walking, oblivious of the world. He ran after her and caught her from behind. She was startled from this sudden commotion and began screaming for help.

“Leave me.” Before she could utter another word, he clapped his palm on her mouth and turned her to face him. Her eyes filled with hate the moment she saw him. She tried to squeeze from his hold but he didn’t let her. Instead he dragged her to the point where he had been smoking before. By the time they arrived at that place, she was crying profusely. He made her sit on a tree trunk and held her by her shoulders.

“Please Qandeel, hold onto yourself.” She looked at him. He saw anger, hate, disgust in her eyes for him.

She kept on looking at him for some time then hit him squarely on the chest with her palms. He rolled back and fell down and before he had the chance to get up she caught him by collar and said,

“I hate you! Do you hear me?? I hate you!”

Ilaaf was staring at her. He had assumed she is still not fully conscious; according to her previous record, she had to go in unconscious one more time. But she was already out of that state.

“I, Qandeel Yusuf, accept in full consciousness that I hate Ilaaf Lashari.” Ilaaf felt like he was in an inferno. “You murdered my father. What had we done to you to deserve this? Why did you do this to me?” She was crying her heart out and the words she spoke were so acerbic that he could feel his whole being poisoned by it.

“I am an orphan now, just because of you. You claimed that you love me. Do we treat the ones we love like this?” She was weeping and speaking at the same time.

He wanted to cry but held on. And then out of nowhere, he pulled her into a hug and even she didn’t stop him to do so.

“Call me whatever you want to, let it out of you but please stay put.” He patted her back and tried to ease her tension. She too left herself in his arms and cried more and said, “I will never forgive you. Never.”

“Fine, don’t forgive me. I don’t deserve that.” He wasn’t sure how he had the courage to say that.

Minutes passed while they stood like this- embracing each other-then she moved back and their eyes met.

In the dim light, he saw something in her eyes- other than hate or anger- he wasn’t sure what was it so he kept on looking into her eyes to decipher it. She looked away, as if  hiding her eyes. And then pushed him away rudely.

“I don’t need your condolences.” He kept looking her.“I want to go home. Would you drop me or I can go by myself.” Her tone distant.

“I will drop you.” By the time he stood up, she had gone to the car.

Car was filled with heavy silence which was punctuated by her sobs every now and then. It was killing him but he didn’t have any way to soothe her pain. They entered the Main City. It was almost 4 o’ clock in the morning.

As Qandeel’s home was getting nearer a new fear clawed at his heart; whether he’d be able to see her again or not.

He stopped the car outside her narrow street. He didn’t want to create anymore trouble for her anyway.

Qandeel dried her eyes and nose with her dupatta. Her face had swollen due to continuous crying.

Fajar prayer call could be heard in the distance.

“I don’t want to see your face ever again, Ilaaf Lashari and I pray to God that we are meeting for last time” It came very dry and rough.

He looked at her; her eyes wild like that of a wounded lioness.

“You will never find happiness.”

““I witness that there’s no god but God.””  The prayer call was nailing his coffin.

“You have destroyed me so you’ll never flourish.”

“I witness that Prophet Muhammad (pbuh) is His last prophet.”” His demise had started long ago.

Her breath hitched. Ilaaf felt like his heart was perforated.

She started crying once again. Ilaaf stared at her tears rolling down her eyes.

“I hate you. But no, you don’t even deserve my hatred. You are only worthy of contempt.”

““Allah is Greater, Allah is Greater.””

He had been kicked; not only by her but also by Allah.

She opened the car door and stepped outside.

Ilaaf looked at the place which she had left vacant. His whole world had been plunged into a total vacuity.

“My daughter has never learned to hate anybody, Ilaaf.” Yusuf Mairaj’s words echoed in his ears and his grief let lose. He rested his head on the steering and his eyes flooded.

“She has learned to hate, Yusuf Uncle.” He was talking to himself. “She hates Ilaaf Lashari. She only has hatred for me. And may be I deserve this.”

He revived the engine and tried to look through the fog plunging onto wind screen and seemed as had stuck to his life and his self.

(Special thanks to Noor-e-Hira Shamim for translating this post)

Chapter no. 15: A Meeting, A Separation (III)

It was an extremely busy road. There was a huge wholesale market on its one side and famous electronics’ bazaar on the other. More than half of the road was covered with parked cars and hawkers had held over footpaths so this place was certainly not for pedestrians. You couldn’t walk slow or you’d be rudely pushed from behind and if you happen to stumble then it was not possible to get up before being stepped over by few; it was not at all appropriate for strollers. However, Yusuf Mairaj was walking on this road for past half an hour.

He wasn’t here for any business, in fact he wasn’t even aware that he had arrived there. He took small steps as if he had all the time in this world; he didn’t have any business to attend to or any responsibility. As if, he was tired and now wanted to watch life passing by. In a way, it was true for him. For what or who had remained in his life? Indeed, nothing was left for him.

Shadows were almost disappearing. Everybody was in hurry to reach to his or her destination, even birds. Yet he was the only one who had nowhere to go, nobody to turn to. He only wanted to walk until the end of this world.

For the first time in his 68 years, he was asking himself a question, which he hadn’t even asked in his childhood. And he felt that despite of gaining such novel experiences in his whole life, this question had somehow remained unresolved; why this world is round? Why it is oval like egg, why not flat like bread?

If this question had occurred to him 24 hours ago, he would have dismissed it as inane. But not now. This question had become a question mark in itself of his entire life. And he couldn’t summon the enough courage to scribble anything at all after it.

What if this world was flat instead of a round. He would have stood at the edge of it, looking at himself and at that constellation which was ready to greet him with open arms. And at that moment, he would have looked at both and decided which one to choose. The World where Providence had given him ground under his feet and sky above his head and his own people have wrenched both from him. Or this vacuity where he couldn’t plant his feet properly yet there were lamps, lit for him to show him the way around. It would have been very difficult for him to choose between these, few days back. But now he was certain which direction he’d go.

He reminisced that Saima immensely loved this poem. She sung it whenever she saw a newborn, even when she had held Ilaaf when he was born. But she could never sing it to Qandeel and he could never—no matter how much Qandeel insisted—imitate Saima’s lilting voice.

There was no need to take a decision because everything had been decided. If he would now be offered the whole Universe even then he was sure to refuse it and choose the empty space where life was absent but the lamp of life was illuminating in form of Saima Yousuf.

At the rooftop, leaned to the wall, when she used to sing these verses, it seemed to him that the moon had borrowed his light from her eyes. And whenever he looked at her singing like this, his heart used to swell with joy- at the thought that this light was part of him. The light radiating from her smiling face was everything to him. 

He stumbled over something and controlled his balance with difficulty. He stopped for a while to steady his breath and looked around. He had come so far without even knowing it. People come back to senses when they stumble but in his case, he was thrown back into unconsciousness of this world from the clarity of his constellation. His world was now centered to Saima so what he was to do in this world. What was left for him here.

“Qandeel.” An ache settled in his chest.

She was the soul reason of his life but those cruel people had snatched her from him. He couldn’t even begin to explain those four days he had spent without Qandeel. The grief was unspeakable. Every effort had been in vain, his courage was dying away and now his limbs were also giving way to this grief. His feet had refused to go a single step further, his eyes were sightless and his ears had stopped working since last two hours.

He rested a while in a near by shop and asked for water. People present there advised him to stay longer but he refused. He signaled a rickshaw and asked him to take him to nearest park.

He had never before thought of life to be that hard as compared to last four days. The taunts, the way people flung insults at Qandeel, muddied her name, efforts of Qaiser Lashari for defaming her, dishonoring her, separation of Qandeel, worries for her safety, Saqib’s concerns and doubts and moreover the shameless attitude of Saleha apa and Sami, when they saw Ilaaf coming out of his house, was finally taking a toll over him. He realized for the first time that he made a mistake, expecting from them any good.

He paid the rickshaw driver and came into park. The evening was just starting.

Even the cool breeze didn’t help him to dissipate the tumult he was experiencing from last four days. Those daggers disguised as words were still tearing at his heart.

“You were so proud of her modesty, now what went wrong? Why didn’t you teach her instead of lecturing us over decency, Uncle? She had been deceiving me for not sure how long and I prized her as the most faithful woman in the world. Ilaaf is a mere reason to solve this mystery or I would have never known for how long and with how many she has been….” He shut his eyes tightly as if someone had drowned him in mud and he wanted to safe his eyes from it.

“She hasn’t been home since four days and you say Qaiser Lashari has kidnapped her! If it had been so, why didn’t you lodge complain against him. Why didn’t you go to media to blackmail Qaiser Lashari so that he would release her? But no you didn’t. Because you too are unaware of where she is. She got frightened from her false witness and now she feels the need to hide herself until this tandem dies down. Or may be she has run away with either Saqib or Ilaaf or don’t know with whom! You don’t know anything, you never did. Instead, you always acquiesced to her every wish whether legitimate or otherwise. You gave her liberty to act whichever way she would deem it necessary and that made her more obnoxious, headstrong and careless. And her doom was furthered by her university friends. She has lowered herself so much that I am now ashamed of even keeping with her any relationship. And to think that she was the centre of my dreams.” He wouldn’t have felt more pain if someone would have dragged him across the bed of razor blades.

“She always claimed that she doesn’t hold extravaganzas and luxuries to any worth so why is she now blackmailing Ilaaf for marriage like this? You were always teaching honesty and truth to others, why didn’t you feel the need to teach your own daughter these virtues as well. Why is she disgracing everyone-related to her- in whole world like this. And why this man had come here? Did he come here to present his condolences or to inform you that she is living with him these days?” He felt like he was made to sit on thorns, each and every one of it piercing into him, perforating his being.

He watched himself, bleeding away like this.

For last few days, he was trying to ignore these same implications made by almost everyone, for Qandeel. Trying and not succeeding in ignoring these atrocities wreaked with the help of words on his beloved daughter. And yet he was surprised at his demeanor when his own nephew and sister were slaying Qandeel’s character, why hadn’t he slapped Sami hard on the face for the words he used for Qandeel? Why hadn’t he admonished him, his sister for filling so much hatred in Sami for Qandeel. For strangers only need a small incentive to propagate against innocent people. But blood relations are different case. Qandeel had been born and grown up before Saleha apa and Sami and they had always praised her for her geniuses and now knowing her inside out they still have the gall to call her all those filthy things?

“There comes a point in some relationships where love disappears and pity takes it’s place. We cannot break-free nor face-away from them rather we go on fulfilling them, pitying over them. We simply are unable to hate them. And the emotion which we call hate is ignorance actually which makes room into us through pity.” Saima was absolutely right and I had never understood this point.

Whenever he witnessed Saima’s parents’ behavior with her, the hatred with which her mother faced her which made him wonder how come Saima gets through these self-crushing visits without even a single frown. He also inquired from her, doesn’t she ever feel any animosity towards her mother who is always insulting her, cursing her, and indignant with her, no matter what she did. And Saima always replied in those same words.  

Now he had understood all of these facets of life. He could tell about it’s every edge, each crevice.

Wind increased a notch, rustling the branches. Children were on swings; playing and having a time of their life, not a single worry on mind. He too wished to be a child once more. Away from every affair, to enjoy this moment here but that was not possible. His nervous system was preparing to go off forever. He felt pain in his left arm.

He stood up. His gait stooped as if he has lost everything.

His mind was a whirl of disjointed sentences, faces. He didn’t have mind to join the dots. The dark was swallowing everything and he wanted to complete few responsibilities before being engulfed completely.

He didn’t try to remember how he reached his place, it was too much effort. And anyway, the void was getting bigger and bigger. He hadn’t felt the need to call anyone. He didn’t want to go to hospital because he had made his choice and he was just waiting for the time of it’s completion. He was aware his choice had been granted.

He saw Kazmi sahib and Shaheen near his gate when he entered his street. Shaheen must have come for Qandeel and after not finding her at home, was inquiring about her from Kazmi sahib, Yusuf Mairaj deduced. Shaheen was a eunuch who had great respect for Qandeel only, in whole ward. And why not, Qandeel was the only person who welcomed her with etiquettes and always provided for her needs.

He came towards them. They both greeted him and Kazmi sahib started, “She was asking after Qandeel. I had to tell her that she hasn’t been home for last four days nor do we know when she will return, if she decides to return that is.” He couldn’t help taunting him.

Yusuf Mairaj was hurt and Shaheen too minded it.

“Watch your tongue old man!” She admonished Kazmi sahib who thought better to walk away.

Yusuf Mairaj didn’t comment and pushed the door to enter (he had forgotten to lock it in first place.)

“Sahab ji tell me what is wrong with my angel Qandeel. Where is she? What was this jerk talking about? Please tell me, I am worried for her.” She was talking in his characteristic way and for the first time her strident cadence sounded to him like mother’s velvety voice.

He related to her the accident in fewer words. She sat on floor and cried her heart out over Qandeel’s tragedy cursing the culprits when he finished.

His gaze was intense. Who was she? A mere eunuch who is rejected by whole society. A gender who survives by praying for others to earn money. And curse those who don’t pay them was crying his heart out for Qandeel as if she was his blood-relation. In past four days, nobody, not even his own sister had believed him about Qandeel, let alone pray for her life and here Shaheen was the only one who had taken Yusuf Mairaj for his word, the only person who trusted Qandeel and her character and may be that is why her love for her was pouring out of her eyes like that.

Yusuf Mairaj brought some water for her and cooled her down. When she was ready to go, he offered him some money which she refused vehemently and said,

“I am not that low. I don’t come here for money. I take it from Qandeel because I cannot bring myself to refuse her. I am very much able to earn for myself. When Qandeel will return, I will, along with my cult, present myself at Shah Sahab’s mazar. This is my plea until she returns.” Shaheen left. A tear escaped out of the corner of his eye.

He sat absent mindedly for some time and then dialed Ilaaf’s number. A last chance to hear his beloved’ voice.

Ilaaf was surprised when he saw his number on mobile screen but of course he couldn’t know the reason. He handed his mobile to Qandeel.

“Baba, are you alright? Did you go to Usman Uncle for regular check-up?”

He hmm-ed and ahan-ed through the initial questions then came to real matter.

“Qandeel love, listen to me carefully.”

“Yes Baba, I am listening.”

“I will always be with you whether I am near you or far away. Even if we are separated, know that I will always be there, in your strength, your courage. Always remember that you will not lose. Not against any person, against your grief, your loneliness. Do not give in to people’s biases, their hatred, OK? Me and your mother will really be put off if you ever give up. And we’ll be extremely happy and content whenever you’ll face everything courageously. We’ll be proud of you regardless of your success or failure. You are Qandeel Yusuf, daughter of Yusuf Mairaj and Saima Yusuf. You are strong like your mother and a little naïve like your father so you have got to make both of us proud of you. You always have to smile and live for life, for the goal of your life and the reality of the dream for which your father spent his best years of life.”

“Baba, this can wait till I come back. The case will be decided in few days, I will be home, and we can discuss all of it then. Why are you bringing this up right now?”

“Don’t worry. I was sad without you so I just wanted to hear you.” He soothed her heart and then disconnected the call. This casual act felt like he had burned his last bridge towards life.

The pain in his left arm had spread to his chest and he was having difficulty in breathing. He came inside the room and took sometime to relief his breath. Sitting on bed, he looked around. The images and perfume of her time and presence spent here, rushed back to him. He looked at her dressing table where Saima used to stand and make over herself, her image always pulling him towards her. The wardrobe where her stuff remained at exactly the same way and still occupied more than half of it as if she still uses it. He looked around whole room where she used to pace up and down. Finally, at their bed where he’d still felt her presence even after her death. This room held so many memories which always helped him to move on in life even after Saima’s death. Those beautiful moments of love when she roamed and breathed inside these walls, her smiles, tears, everything was alive in this room--- and he himself—was so near to death now.

He had lost the track of time. The pain was vehemently rushing in his veins and he was covered in sweat. He tried to breathe properly but it seemed like it was stuck somewhere inside him, refusing to come out. His heart was hammering around in his chest and he felt it would pop out at any given time. He leaned on to the wall to support his shaking legs and tried to go into the courtyard. It took him ages to reach to the pillar and all of his strength went away in this simple exercise. He sat down; cell phone was still in his hand. He had to do one last thing before giving himself away. He called upon Allah with shaky voice and dialed Hamza Shahid’s number. The ringer went on relentlessly at other end. He was dismayed. The pain was paralyzing his mind and he didn’t have much time. And then Hamza Shahid received his call at last. He didn’t have much time so he started at once.

“You said once that you love Qandeel like your daughter so now I am leaving her to you as I take my leave. Love her like your own daughter and give her freedom to decide for her life. Let her go if she chooses to stay with Shama in Islamabad. Guard her unequivocally.” Speaking was proving to be too much an effort, his voice shook with the strain and sweat ran down from his face but he had yet to finish.“Guide her but always make sure to leave her choose on her own. Try to bring a patch up between her and Ilaaf, you know the reason why. Omar desired so. If it’s better for them then they will come together and if not then they will have whatever has been decreed for them. I just want you to be with her, and never let her feel alone.”And then he couldn’t go on. He tried to gulp in the air but it was as if lungs had refused to take in.

“Yusuf what is it with you? Are you alright ? Or did you have a heart attack. Don’t worry I am coming right away.” Hamza Shahid exclaimed into the cell phone but Yusuf Mairaj’s cell had slipped to the floor. He was going into unconscious. He closed his eyes and started reciting kalma. His heart thudded a little louder and he, not able to take up the blow, put his hands on the floor and tried to steady his breath and heart beat.

Suddenly, the otherwise warm March night began to cool down a little and there was a pleasant silence among his dying heartbeats. He contracted his nostrils in an attempt to take the air in and the unexpected perfume that entered in his senses surprised him. Sitting in a crawling position, he breathed again to recognize this perfume.

That delicate sensation as love. How could he forget that sensation which had adorned his very own existence all his life, and it continue to do so even when he’s dying. He looked up and now his senses were working perfectly.

She was standing two feet away, smiling at him. Even his breathing was normal now.

“Diya.” He had said this word after such a long time. And it wasn’t a surprise that it had come to him even in this condition. She was Saima for people, but Diya for him. A lamp which lit his life all this time.

She came nearer to him, and he was still, staring at her. She looked like a princess in that milk-white dress, those green bangles and gold studs. She was in this attire at last 14^th August they were together.

He kept on looking at her, speechless as she sat beside him. Her beautiful smile had even made him forget the pangs in his chest.  

“Yusuf, my Yusuf!” She said in exact same way like she used to and rested her head on his shoulder. And he was sure that he was not hallucinating. He could feel her head on his shoulder. She looked at him.

“Is it hurting very much?”

He nodded.

“Do not worry yourself now as I have come. It’ll pass. I have come now.” And she put her hand on his heart. The touch was so cool and refreshed his otherwise burning heart. He couldn’t tell if his heart had quietened or stopped altogether and neither cared.

“Why did you go?” He complained.

“I had to, Yusuf. But now I have come. The time of separation has ended and now we are together. Please, put aside all of your complaints.” 

He smiled.

“We’ll never be separated ever again.” He nodded. He noticed the heartache had vanished and there wasn’t a single drop of sweat on his body. It was cold all over.

“Shall we?” She inquired.

“Yes but what about our Qandeel?” He was suddenly very mindful of her.

“There are so many people to look after here, including Ilaaf. And we’ll also be near her.” He was relieved.

“Now shall we?” she asked again and he conceded.

She stood and held out her hand to him. He took it and walked away with her; light-hearted.

He walked on without the need of knowing where he was heading as he was contented that he was with his Saima.

There, in the courtyard, echoed a sound,

Yusuf Mairaj was leaned on to the pillar, unconscious when Hamza Shahid and Kamran Ali entered the place. They checked his nerve, breathing and muttered something under breath. They both took his lifeless body inside the room and began contacting people to inform them about his death.

(Special thanks to Noor-e-Hira Shamim for translating this post)

Chapter no. 15: A Meeting, A Separation (II)

That night also passed in tossing and turning. It seemed like insomnia was beginning to become a permanent part of his life. He was craving for sleep yet his mind was whirling with thoughts. Thoughts about Qandeel, about himself and about both of them together, their future which was very much endangered at the moment. Though he was aware that just thinking about something couldn’t present a solution but did he have any choice?

After breakfast he informed Adnan that he’d be visiting city, may be home too.

“It’s good that you brought it up. I was also thinking about it. I have to complete Agha Jan’s chores, let’s go together.” He offered.

“No, you must stay here. Qandeel will be alone and I don’t trust your men.” Adnan was taken aback by his tone.

“OK, then. I will go later in the evening.” He closed the matter.

Before leaving, he came in Qandeel’s room. She was sleeping peacefully even at this hour. May be she slept late at night, he thought to himself. He brought empty salad plate out and locked the door. He ordered Noori to serve Qandeel breakfast whenever she wakes up and ask her to change clothes.

“Bibi ji doesn’t listen to me, Sayin.” Noori lamented.

“Still, ask her for once.” He went out.

Ilaaf visited his home first. Fazal brightened up when he saw him.

He took important stuff from his room and said to Fazal, “I cannot stay here for long. I have come to finish some work then will return to farmhouse. We will talk later.”

“Sayin, jeweler called.” Ilaaf paused. He had totally forgotten that ring which he had ordered on accident day.

“What did he say?” He asked.

“He was inquiring if he could deliver the ring.”

“Call him and ask him to deliver it. Keep it with you. I will take it from you later.”

Fazal nodded and then continued, uncertain.

“Sayin, can I ask something?” Ilaaf became curious.

“Yes?”

“Sayin, is bibi alright?”

“Whom are you talking about?” He inquired seriously, having no idea what he had in mind.

“I am talking about Qandeel bibi.” He offered, afraid he would get angry.

“Yes she is fine. What made you ask after her?” He needed to know.

“Because I want her to reach her home safely and then you two should marry.” Ilaaf was surprised at how much he was privy of and found his innocence endearing. How easy he thought all this was.

“I know you since your childhood, Sayin. I always did your work myself. I love you more than I love abba or Sassi. I am witnessing it first time that you are doting on a woman like this, Sayin. I think you love her a lot, Sayin. Your eyes lit up when you see bibi’s pictures so I can imagine the satisfaction you might feel when you see her in real. I want you to be happy and so I pray Lord that everything gets settled so you can marry her.” Ilaaf nodded and went out.

What a twisted sense of humor this world had; a mere servant was aware what this girl meant to him but his own father was so indifferent to his feelings.

He bought few books and CDs for Qandeel and then headed towards her home. Last night Yusuf Mairaj had requested him to meet him. Though he was aware that he would not be able to meet his eye, yet he couldn’t reject his request. That is why he had stopped Adnan accompanying him. He didn’t want Adnan to know that he was in contact with Yusuf Mairaj. 

He parked his car outside the street and strolled to the house. It was an amazing feeling; he was familiar of this place as if he had been coming here all his life when in fact he hadn’t known this place before meeting Qandeel. Even the scorching sun seemed to be greeting him. And that familiarity continued when he knocked on this old wooden door.

Yusuf Mairaj opened the door. He smiled as if Qandeel herself had returned.

“I knew you would visit me.” He brought him inside.

He chose to sit in veranda. Even sweating felt good inside these walls.

Yusuf Mairaj kept on looking at him and that threw him off guard. He looked around to avoid his gaze.

When Yusuf Mairaj started speaking, a rush of envy flooded Ilaaf. He was envious of his life, Qandeel. If only for once fate could give me way, I would switch fathers with Qandeel and then see how she, who accuses me of being coward and weak, could prove herself to be brave, he thought to himself.

Sitting there, he regarded everybody, who had a father like Yusuf Mairaj, lucky. A respected, trustworthy, loving and compassionate person who was as forgiving and cool-headed for an enemy as for a friend. 

“Qandeel is cool of my eyes, Ilaaf. If I could, I would never even let air to touch her harshly. However, this is life and everybody has to face his or her own share of trials. That is why I always stood by her decisions, never argued about them to be emotional and certainly didn’t force my decisions over her. I may have to leave her eventually and it’s better for her to learn to take her own decisions, and it’s good for her that she gets to learn from her mistakes. She’ll gain experience from all of it, I am sure. And also, because I want her to learn to live alone. Her mother too had to face so much opposition in her life; she had to live alone for longer periods before she met me. Her life is a mirror image of her mother’s even her illness is inherited from Saima.” Ilaaf looked at him as he spoke, his each word wrapped in affection for her and her mother.

“And I am also aware of the ordeal you are going through. I know it will not be possible for you to help her in any way in future just like now so I don’t want you to put you in any test by forcing you into any pledge.”  The fact that he didn’t hold him responsible for the present circumstances was astounding for him. “I have only one request for you. An old ill man requests a man who regards him as his father and loves his daughter immensely.” His voice shook; Ilaaf strained his ears in consternation and looked at him closely.

“Always love Qandeel the same way. Always be there for her. Try to guard her life and honor. I am not sure why am I saying all of this to you but I feel like you are the only person in this world for this. Whether you give her your name or not, even if you are unable to stand with her, give her your love always. Whether I am alive or dead, the fact that there is one such person who loves Qandeel more than I do will be enough for me. I could die easily then, Ilaaf. Right now I feel like I am in purgatory. Thinking about her make me lose my mind.”   

Ilaaf held his hands impulsively and said subserviently, “Please don’t worry, I have been unable to get her out of that place yet she is dear to me more than my life. I will protect her no matter what. Although she’ll never want to marry me but I’ll do whatever I could.”

Yusuf Mairaj looked at him inquisitively. “Have you two talked about this matter?”

Ilaaf bowed his head.

“Tell me what did she say?” He lifted his face up.

“She has rejected me.” He was resigned.

“She must have said it under pressure. She can’t be saying it for real.” Yusuf Mairaj’s composure was overwhelming for Ilaaf.

“I think you have a misunderstanding, Uncle. She never liked me before and now after this accident she hates me. She’s so cold and distant towards me.” His sadness was oozed out into his words.

“That cannot be real, Ilaaf”

“It is true.”

“She loves you.”

Ilaaf laughed humorlessly.

“She hates me.”

“My daughter does not know how to hate.”

“She has learned to hate after meeting me.”

“Qandeel only knows how to love.”

“But she has all the hate in this world for me.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“I have.”

“I don’t reckon.”

“I have accepted it.” He was defeated.

They remained silent for some time then Yusuf Mairaj said,

“We’ll discuss it some other day, now is no time for it. Time will decide and then we won’t have to defend our stances,” Ilaaf nodded in agreement.

“I am satisfied now that I have talked to you. I knew you’ll not disappoint me. I was sure that you’ll be the one for her and now I trust you. You will stand by her in trials because your love is unconditional. I am grateful to you.” Ilaaf wanted the earth to open up and swallow him right away, he was that embarrassed at his last words. He hadn’t even done anything for her and he was still so humble.

“Please, don’t be.” He kissed his hands and Yusuf Mairaj took his face in his hands.

“You are just like Omer. Each of your features resembles him.” That jolted Ilaaf.

“You know Omer Uncle?”

Yusuf Mairaj couldn’t answer him right away.

“How?” He inquired again.

“He was martyred, no? And everybody knows martyrs, Ilaaf. Everybody had cried the day he had died. Many had been present in his funeral. Very few people are as fortunate as he was. He certainly was a lucky person and you too are very lucky Ilaaf.”

“I wish it was true, uncle.” He snorted.

“Don’t lose hope, it’s wrong.” He patted his back affectionately.

He got up to leave.

“Qandeel will be home soon.” He tried, unsuccessfully, to soothe him.

“I know.” He smiled.

He turned to leave then paused.

“Is it Qandeel’s room? He pointed towards the room.

“Yes”

“Can I umm..have a look?” He inquired hesitatingly.

“Why not.”

He came inside her room and looked around. Yusuf Mairaj waited outside.

It was a small room. Yet it was more than a world for him. He looked at the bed; It’s here she reclines to read a book or simply lie down and dream. For a moment, he too wanted to lie down there and dream, but he couldn’t.

Then he looked at other things; writing table, rocking chair, bookshelf, computer, wardrobe and dressing table. Everything was sacred for him. He stayed for a while there and then decided its rude to stay longer here so came out.

They came to the door.

“We’ll meet again.”

“Sure.” Yusuf Mairaj smiled. There was something in his smile which he couldn’t pinpoint. “Khuda hafiz.”

He almost ran into a guy who was about to knock at the door.

That guy stopped when he saw Ilaaf and looked at him closely. The woman behind him made a face when she saw Yusuf Mairaj and Ilaaf together.

“Oh, Sami. Come inside.” Yusuf Mairaj welcomed him. “And Saleha apa is also with you, good.” They went inside.

Ilaaf regarded Sami. So he’s Qandeel’s fiancé. What was so special about him, why, in the world, he had to have the honor of being that lucky person, and also without asking for it? He asked himself.

 Sadness surrounded him when he was heading back to the farmhouse.

Adnan was waiting for him impatiently.

“Where have you been man! I have had to be back by night.”

“You can go now. I am here with Qandeel.”

“I am taking Rishi and few other men with me. You will have Noori and Khursheed here. Khursheed will guard the jungle and surroundings; you will have to take care of Qandeel.” Ilaaf nodded.

Adnan took car keys from him and paused again.

“You understand that you’ll have to watch out for her as well, don’t you? Because if she escapes before verdict is announced then I nor you or nobody else in this case will be able to stop Qaiser Uncle killing her.” 

Adnan was dreading that Ilaaf would try to take her home behind him and so he thought it necessary to remind him of the stakes.

“I am aware of that.” He responded dryly and went inside.

There was silence when they all left.

Ilaaf tended to his work and came to Qandeel’s room. He stopped in his tracks when he entered. She was standing in front of dressing table, combing her hair.

He was riveted. She wasn’t aware of his presence. She had taken a shower and changed dress. In white shalwar and light blue shirt, her back to him, her efforts, apparently failing to straighten them made him weak in the knees.

He knocked instead of entering without informing.

She turned back and hurried across the room to her dupatta. She had to leave her hair as they were.

“I brought these for you; CDs and books. It will help you to pass your time here.”

Uninterested, she sat on the bed. Ilaaf began to shelf the books.

“Where is Noori?” She asked.

“May be in the kitchen.” He said.

“What about Adnan?”

“He has gone to city with his men.” He answered her unthinkingly and got back to shelving the books.

There was silence then. Ilaaf looked at where Qandeel was sitting and she wasn’t there. He looked around. She was not in the room.

Alarm bells rang in his head and he recalled her questions. It took him a moment and he was out of the room, took two stairs at a time and rushed towards the main gate. He was furious with himself why he had left her room’s door open. By the time he came out, she had crossed main gate, which was open. She was unfamiliar with the pathways and he was afraid Khursheed would act without orders.

“Qandeel, stop!” He had shouted at her but she ran faster when she heard him behind her. Ilaaf took alternate route, crossed a pathway and caught her in time.

“Stop!!” He held her by her forearm.

“Leave me, for God’s sake leave me and let me go.” She tried to slip from his hold.

“Don’t be foolish!” He held her fast. She continued to struggle in his arms and her hair—wet from the recent wash-- caressed his face. He closed his eyes and went still. Nevertheless, damage was done. His cheek was wet and he breathed her scent from the earlier contact. 

He opened his eyes. He could touch her hair, he was that close. He was intoxicated; he wanted to be closer still. He wanted to lose himself in those thick tresses, to slumber in there forever. But then she elbowed him harshly and he came back to his senses.

He was, for the very first time, suddenly very angry with her.

He pulled her to face him and slapped her hard across the face.

Stunned, her hand automatically went to where he had hit. Her eyes were wide as if she couldn’t believe that Ilaaf could do such a thing to her.

“You hit me?” She asked, shocked.

“Yes. And I will repeat it if you insist on being foolhardy.” He still was very angry with her.

“You cannot stop me. I will go.” She spat the words out at him.

“Let’s see how you will leave this place.” He hissed and then held her wrist briskly.

“Come inside at once.” He dragged her the whole way to her room and she came behind him, like a bird stuck in a rack.

Ilaaf was a man, and strong at that. She didn’t stand a chance with him. And anyway, he

hadn’t let her have her way this time.

    

Ilaaf had decided that if she would still try to make a run then he would carry her to her room. But she remained silent all the way, dumbfounded.  

He pushed her to the sofa in her room.

“Do not try to escape ever again, Qandeel or I’ll forget I love you. You are forcing me to be rough with you. Whatever I am doing is for your own good.” He pursed his lips. Qandeel didn’t respond. She was still in shock by his reaction.

He went to the door then paused and returned.

“And tie your hair or I will do it myself. I don’t want to see them lose until you are here or else I’d cut them.”

He had no way to fathom the reason behind his bitterness. His nerves were wrought.   

Her eyes were wide in astonishment.

Ilaaf came outside and locked the door.

Some moments make you weak; such had passed over Ilaaf.

He couldn’t shake this feeling off of him even when he was in his room.

The more he thought the less fathomable the things appeared. He shuddered at the thought what would have happened if he had been just a little late in checking his emotions, when he was that close to her. And what if he would have done something—He couldn’t dare think ahead.

She was sacred for him. He worshipped her. How could he think of lowering himself to such level! True that he wanted to make her his but through rightful means, through her willful submission, not by force.

Moreover, this incident had jolted him. He realized that he was a mere human and he could stumble however much he try to be careful and so he decided to not to test his guts until her stay. It is most painful thing to ruin your life with your own hands. An unlucky person would like things this way, however, Ilaaf was not of that kind.

(Special thanks to Noor-e-Hira Shamim for translating this post)