ZAHARA

My heart hammered against my ribs as I stood in front of Abba. Keeping my gaze lowered, I clutched the fabric of my dupatta to stop the tremors in my fingers. My mind raced with millions of thoughts, confusion clouding as I wondered why Abba was here, in my room.

It's been years. Years. He hadn't even looked at me with the eyes of a father, let alone approaching me for a conversation. It was as though he resented the fact that I was his own daughter. But I guess it was better that way. At least he was staying away from me.

The chain of my thoughts came to an end when I felt a hand pressing on the back of my head. And it made me flinch, not because it was sudden but because it was his hand. And for some unknown reason, I didn't like it.

His touch. I so much wanted to recoil, to move back but I was afraid as well. Afraid of being the one to witness his anger.....again. Taking in a deep breath, I tried to keep myself together. To keep my composure.

"Zahara."

His voice, commanding and strict as always, broke the heavy silence screening the room as my lips parted.

"Ji..." 

The familiar smell of tobacco hit my nostrils, making me suffocate as I stammered out, my voice barely audible to my own ears that I doubt if he even heard it.

"There is someone coming to meet you this Evening. Kaafi khaas shakhs hain vo. Ummeed karte hain tum humein ruswa nahi karogi." 
(He's a special person. I hope you won't disgrace us.)

He stated, hand falling back by his side and I let out a short, unnoticeable breath. Not looking up, I nodded my head once to let him know I heard his words. 

Last time I remembered, he'd slapped me for not giving a visible or audible response to his words.

Despite the dread weighing down on my heart and confusion battling with my mind, I didn't ask anything. Didn't dare to. They taught me that an ideal woman is the one who does and functions as per she's told. And I didn't want to mess things up or there will be consequences as they said and I'd seen.

"I've asked Phoolbano to give you a new pair of clothes and everything you'd need. Aur theek se tayyar hona."
(Do get ready well.)

Get ready well? Did he really say that? But wasn't I supposed to keep myself veiled in Naqab in front of strangers as he always said? Who must those guests be?

A FEW MOMENTS LATER

ZAHARA

My mind was still filled with the thoughts from earlier as I stared out at the sky blankly. The birds were chirping and chasing each other while I sat there with an uneasy heaviness pressing down on my heart. It'd be good if I were one of them. No care of the world. Nothing. Just me, freedom and the endless horizon.

The mere thought was enough for a smile to bloom on my lips but it never made to them when I felt a presence.

Before I could even turn my head to see who it was, the bags were shoved in my hands. Startled from the sudden movement, I looked up only for my eyes to meet with the sight of her. My Step Mother. But I never addressed her as one. She could never be my Amma. She had gone long ago.

"Zahara. Get ready quickly and come downstairs. Don't make your Abba and the guests wait otherwise you know..."

She trailed off, the weight of her unfinished words hovering over me as she turned to leave.

My throat worked with a hard swallow as I stood up slowly. Fidgeting with the bags she'd shoved in my hands earlier; I took a deep breath prior to opening my mouth.

"K-Kon aa raha hai........humse milne....?"
(Who is coming......to meet me..?)

I forced the words out of my throat, my voice barely audible against the hum of ceiling fan as I watched her halt just a step away from the doorway. 

She turned back, her lips pressing into a thin line as she just looked at me for a moment, looking lost in her own thoughts.

"Humse kyu puchh rahi ho tum? Tumhare Abba humein kuchh batate bhi hain? Subah se puchh-puchh kar thak gaye. Upar se humein hi suna diya unhone."
(Why are you asking me? Does your father even tell me anything? I've been asking him the same question ever since the morning but ended up getting yelled at.)

She let out a sigh, turning her eyes away from me before shaking her head slightly. "Anyways. Vo keh rahe hain to kuchh zaroori hi hoga. Tum ready ho jao isse pehle ki vo aa kar humein aur sunaye."
(If he's saying then there must be something important. Go and get ready before he yells at me even more.)

Her words did little to calm the storm swirling inside me but I chose not to say anything further, knowing even if she knew, she wouldn't tell me. He must have asked her not to.

Without a word further, she turned to leave while muttering under her breath. "Pata nahi meri bachiyan kaisi hai wahan. Ek baar call tak nahi aaya kisi ka. Humari to jaan nikli ja rahi hai fikr se."
(Don't know how my daughters are there. None of them bothered to call me even once. I'm dying with worry, god!)

I just stood there silently, listening to her distant voice as her footsteps faded into silence, leaving me once again in my own thoughts.

She was worried for Ifra and Aafra because they'd gotten married just a couple of weeks ago only and right after the wedding, bhai had to leave for some urgent work. 

Naa jaane kyu par bhai se baat karne ka dil kar raha hai. Khala se kahein kya?'
(I don't know why but I feel like talking to bhai once. Shall I ask my aunt?)

Without another thought, I rushed towards the door before calling her who was about to go downstairs.

"Khala, rukiye."
(Aunt, listen to me please.)

She stopped, frowning as she turned to look at me, because I called her 'Khala/Maasi'. Phoolbano, she's my mother's younger sister. 

She took a step forward, her expression hardening slightly as she hissed. "Humein kitni baar kehna padega tumse, Zahara, ki humein 'Khala' keh kar mat bulaya karo. Tum samajhti k-kyun nahi?"
(How many times do I have to tell you, Zahara not to call me Aunt? Why d-don't you understand?)

Her voice broke slightly at the end as if that single word from me had managed to claw at the wound that hadn't yet healed, neither inside her nor me but I didn't say anything.

Kyunki kuchh zakham aise hote hain jo aasani se nahi bhara karte aur kuchh hum bharne dena nahi chahte.
Is vajah se nahi ki humein dard sehna pasand hai, magar isiliye kyunki us dard ka ehsaas hi ek aakhiri yaad hoti hai unki jinhe hum kho to chuke hain, par khona chahte bhi nahi hain.

(Because some wounds just refuse to heal easily and some are those we don't wish to heal.
Not because we relish in the pain they cause, but because the sting of that pain is the only memory of the ones we had lost but don't want to lose either.)

With me, it's the latter. I didn't wish to forget nor want her to do so, even if all it bring is just pain—bittersweet and unbearable. 

Pushing back the ache gripping at my heart, I deliberately ignored her words and asked.
"Humein.... bhai se baat karni hai. Aapke mobile se call kar sakte hain?"
(I.... really want to talk to brother for a moment. Can I please use your mobile?)

For a second, it looked like she might refuse but then let out a sigh and forwarded the phone to me, though she didn't look at me, conveying that she was still upset with me.

Of course, I used to be her favourite niece before she------

"Zahara? Humne kaha na tayyar hone ke liye? Aur Phool, tum yahan kya kar rahi ho? Didn't I ask you to prepare something for the guests?"
(I told you to get ready, didn't I? And Phool, the hell are you doing here?)

My and Khala's body went rigid simultaneously at his voice but I managed to return the phone to her discreetly, knowing she'd be in a great trouble if he saw her giving it to me.

I didn't dare to turn around while she stepped past me towards him, stammering. "V-Vo hum..... haan, everything is ready. Actually, I'd taken her with me to the kitchen to offer a hand. She will be ready in a minute. A-Aap niche jaiye na. Yahan tak aane ki takleef kyun uthayi? Kuchh chahiye aapko?"
(O-Oh I... yes/ Y-You wait downstairs please. Why did you bother to come all the way up? Do you want anything?)

She managed to divert his attention while I, taking my chance, slipped into my room, and shut the door behind but his voice managed to reach my ears.

"Kamre me aao."
(Come to our room.)

I didn't hear Khala's voice further, just the sound of their footsteps fading while I let out a sigh, pressing my back against the door.

Maybe it's some distant relatives coming to meet us. Yeah, it can be.

I tried to reason myself, but the prickling sensation at the back of my mind refused to give up, as though my intuitions were trying to tell me something I couldn't yet understand.

Covering my face with my hands, I released a deep sigh prior to going in the washroom to change.

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