Kay dhoop chaaon ka aalam raha
Judai na thi.
کے دھوپ چھاؤں کا عالم رہا، جودائ نہ تھی

I entered the red-bricked palatial residence of my childhood house. The huge, ornate hallways that once echoed with my cheerful laughter were painfully silent today. A soft breeze meandered past, rustling the limp curtains hanging over the windows. The rich smell of earthy greens curled up my nose, familiar yet oddly uneasy. I kept walking, taking in the majestic views outside. Sunlight from the glass windows tinge everything with an enviable glow, the marbles glisten, the wood shines. I stilled by the window, appreciating the shaft of sunlight streaming in. And then I reached out, trying to catch the magical whorl of dust dancing in the light.

I knew I couldn't catch it, yet I knew I wanted to try.

My hand drifted towards the light, trying once again to catch the pixie dust steaming in through the window. My eyes sparkled, lightening up with determination. So what if I knew I couldn't trap air, I still wanted to try, there had to be a way. I frowned in disapproval, my eyes and brain still focussed upon the ray of light streaming in. For unending seconds, the hallway was silent as a tomb, granting me the luxury to think in silence.

There had to be a way.

In my silly new mission, I'd nearly forgotten why I'd come here, when the soft thud of footsteps bought me back to reality. I looked up and saw my mother hurriedly walking towards me. The greys of her eyes found mine and her lips curled into a sweet smile.

"You're here." Her arms wound themselves around my neck and she hugged me tightly. A smile squeezed itself on my face seeing my mother's excitement. She had never been very expressive of her emotions or affection, but deep down I knew she cared for all us. When she pulled back, I smiled at her. Despite her age, her face was still slender and sharply structured, no signs of age visible on the contours of her face. "I had been waiting for you all morning. I thought you'd be here earlier."

"Blame your son in law." I said with a shake of my head. My smile disappeared but a blush bloomed up my neck at the mention of him. "He sometimes behaves like a spoilt baby who needs constant attention." I said as we both began to walk towards the hall. My mother merely smiled, but her eyes shifted with satisfaction and something that almost felt like relief. Had she been worried for me? For us?

Despite the curiosity burning within me, I chose to remain quiet, silently walking besides her. The past few years had been rather tremulous, my relationship with my family had strained tremendously, the geographical distance between us only adding to the misery. My family probably saw me as the troublesome middle child whose blood roared with rebellion. But I couldn't help but notice how things had changed over the past few months. My parents had stood besides me like solid pillars of rock. In their silent apprehension, their concern and worry was unmissable. I knew they loved me, yet somewhere in our differences I had gravely misunderstood them.

My heart ached at the thought.

"You know, I'm very happy." I said when we finally settled in the lounge. Mother turned to me with a surprised expression, her eyebrows perched up high. "I know you and dad have been concerned, but you both have been hesitant to ask. But you can rest assured, I'm genuinely happy. While this isn't how I wanted things to pan out in the beginning, I'm glad where they've bought me today."

Mother heard every word carefully and slowly the lines on her forehead began to relax. "Does he treat you well? I know there has been a lot of tension between him and our family. Your father and I have been worried it might invariably effect you and your relationship. We don't want you to suffer." Her voice dripped with concern, her eyes stilling with an unnatural petulance.

The worry on her face concerned me. I glanced up, my gaze turning troubled at her grave expression. She was so worried for me. A sigh escaped my lips and I leaned forward taking her hand in mine. "He has his moments, especially when he is angry, but he has never hurt me or held me responsible for my family's behaviour." I smiled at her weakly, my eyes looking at her convincingly. "It can be hard, but I think I've learnt how to deal with him."

She gave me a half smile, her face still peppered with worry. "You both can never have a normal relationship. And it pains me." She looked towards the door, as if anticipating someone's arrival. "Layla has been very worried as well. She said she'd be here." She finished, her eyes still glued to the door expectantly.

I looked at her unimpressed, almost irritated. "Layla—" I started hesitantly, lost for words. Layla and I had finally started getting close, but ever since the wedding she had been unusually quiet. Mother always imputed her absence to social gatherings, but her vague excuses always bothered me. "She has been acting—" I paused, looking for the right word.

"Distant." Mother completed for me. The lines marring her forehead vanished and she relaxed in sofa, pushing back the thick obsidian tendril of hair from off her face. "I see you've noticed as well." She spoke warily.

"She is my sister. I can see when she is upset." A heaviness seemed to settle upon my shoulder, the burden of relationships suddenly weighing me down. "But I don't blame her."

"There is nothing to blame." Despite her calm exterior, fear bore deep in her face. The irises of her eyes darkened into a deep midnight black. "Zaroon has put your father and Layla in a very uncomfortable spot. Layla sees Aliyaar as an older brother, but with this brewing tension between him and Zaroon, she is being forced to pick sides. I have been so worried for her."

I remained silent, unable to answer. My eyes met my mother's, but there was absolute silence. She wasn't angry or upset, just concerned. A pained regret shot through my veins and I felt myself crumble under the guilt of not reaching out to Layla. If anyone, it was her who was suffering.

"Zaroon never liked Aliyaar, but we never thought he'd become so hostile towards him. Zaroon and Layla had been having disagreements for a while now, but for the past week, both of them haven't been on talking terms."

Shock froze my tongue and I stared at my mother in silence. "Why didn't you tell me?" I looked at her beseechingly, pain creeping across my face. "She has been suffering because of me."

"Why'd you blame yourself?" Mother's voice became stern, her eyes filled with warning. "Your grandfather chose Aliyaar for you. Zaroon must accept this, like we all have. Politics aside, he is the son-in law of this family and deserves to be treated with the utmost respect." She pointed out rightly. Dada Jaan had proposed this marriage. Not me. Not Aliyaar.

"But Layla is suffering. She doesn't deserve this."

"Life isn't fair, we don't always get what we deserve." She spoke, her voice raw as if in pain. "Your father always wanted to join politics, he was a born leader, yet he never got a chance. He has been having sleepless nights now. He has to choose between his nephew and son-in law."

"But Zaroon Bhai will also be his son-in law. Dad mustn't take sides. It's wrong." I shuddered at the thought, my mother's words echoing in my head. "As much as Aliyaar would appreciate his help—"

I paused when mom shook her head, her eyes burning with irritation and sublime anger. "It's been months since we found out about Zaroon and Layla and yet there has been no formal proposal or engagement. Ibrahim Bhai has been particularly quiet about it. Even Layla has been worried with Zaroon's lack of commitment."

"Perhaps they've been busy with the elections or —" I tried to reason.

"Or perhaps they just want to keep their options open." Mother chipped in with mounting irritation. "You are already married to Aliyaar. The situation is different. Abdullah and I both think, the future of our family would be better secured if Aliyaar becomes the Chief Minister."

"But Mom."

Mom shook her head, guile belying the innocence of her eyes, and said, "Zaroon has the entire party, one seat would not make a difference."

"But do you think Dada Jaan and Ibrahim Taya would allow for it. That seat has been the reason for contention." I stared at her, desperate to hear her thoughts.

Mom looked at me gravely, before pursing her lips thoughtfully. "I don't know. Aliyaar had made his demands very clear from the beginning. Perhaps if Abba sees him more than just a financier, maybe he'd be forced to reconsider." She inhaled slowly, her eyes settling upon the clock ticking softly. We both remained silent, both lost in a deep pool of thought. I took a deep breath of the crisp air, savouring the stillness of our surrounding, the sound of the crackling water from the fountain providing the only sound.

Mom was right, Dada Jaan had to see Aliyaar as more than just a money machine.

The door creaked open with a silent groan, revealing Layla and Dad, both of them immaculately dressed. Layla smiled when she saw us, "It seems like you've forgotten about us." She jabbed playfully, before giving me a hug. I hugged her back, and then turned to my father who was waiting patiently besides us.

"I've missed you all terribly," I said, pressing myself against my father's chest, who held me to him, his hand stroking my hair.

"Will Aliyaar Bhai be joining us for lunch?" Layla asked. Despite the smile on her face, I could see how dull and saddened her eyes were.

I shook my head, "I doubt. He is with Dada Jaan. I think he'll have lunch there, perhaps he can join us for tea or dinner." I forced a hard smile. We had little interaction because mom announced it was time for lunch and we headed towards the dining hall.

"I know what you're doing, Shanzae." Layla whispered besides me, her eyes fixed at the backs of our parents walking ahead of us.

I looked at her with a confused expression, "What do you mean?"

"You're silently paving the way for Aliyaar Bhai to become the next Chief Minister. Your tactics might have been missed by Dada Jaan and Dad, but not me." She stopped and then looked towards me, her eyes edged with ice. "I love Aliyaar Bhai, but Zaroon is the rightful heir. The crown belongs to this house."

Thoroughly impressed, I turned to her. I always knew, behind the facade of a spoilt diva, Layla was a deeply perceptive person, sharp and intelligent. "Zaroon Bhai is the rightful heir. You're right."

"Then why are you doing this. You know it will only create unwanted tensions between the families." I could see our parents disappear behind the door, yet we stood there, staring at each other, looking for answers.

"Layla, Zaroon Bhai is the rightful heir to the party, not the ministry. This is a democracy, not a kingdom. The only reason, Aliyaar agreed to finance the election was to become the chief minister. It was our family that went back on their word."

"I know. I know." Layla cried out in anguish. The mask of compose began to crumble from her face and her forehead creased with frustration. "I know everything, but this constant tension between Bhai and Zaroon is just —" her head fell in defeat. "In the short span I've known Aliyaar Bhai, he has loved and spoilt me like his little sister. But this growing animosity between Zaroon and Bhai is just upsetting."

"I know you're upset, Layla. But have you thought of how difficult my position is? I've to choose between my husband and my family." My voice quivered with emotion as I looked at her, my stare painful and tired. "This is way harder than I thought. I am absolutely torn."

Layla reached out and held my hand. Her face softened with sympathy. "I didn't mean to put you in a hard spot, it's just the past few weeks have been emotionally draining. Zaroon has not been himself. I had never known him to be so rash and impulsive."

My full pain clenched my heart. My sister did not deserve this. "I think both Aliyaar and Zaroon Bhai deserve a chance."

"It's only fair." Layla nodded in agreement and then turned towards the dining hall. "They should both try and then Dada Jaan can decide who the best option is."

I sighed, taking in the aromatic fragrance of the saffron rice and meat curries lingering in the air. A smoky waft from the kebabs curled in my nostrils as we entered the room. Our parents were already seated, waiting for us to join them. "I'm sure he'll have the best interests of both the family and the party in mind." I whispered as I came to take my seat besides her.

§ § § § § § § §

The moon had settled under the benign gaze of the night sky. Tonight the sky was littered with stars, twinkling like diamonds sewn upon a lush dark piece of velvet. A breeze swept through my room, when I stepped inside wearing a maroon silk gown fastened over a negligee. My hair was still wet from the shower, carefully wrapped in a towel.

When I entered the room, my eyes landed upon my husband who sat on the bed with his laptop in his lap. He too had changed into a more comfortable choice for the night, a t-shirt and a pyjama, but his hair was still pristinely set. He passed me a soft smile when his eyes met mine, before quickly drifting back to the screen, his fingers typing hurriedly.

I walked to the mirror and wiped the few lone droplets of water off my bare face, and then turned to dry my hair, rubbing the wet strands with a towel with great deliberation. With agonising slowness I leaned forward, massaging dollop of cream onto my legs, the musky scent of roses and sandalwood infusing into the air. I would watch his reflection in the mirror, stealing wistful glances at me, trying hard to maintain his concentration. A smirk curled on the corner of my lips, enjoying the effect I had on him.

"The colour suits you." I heard him say, when the blaring sound of the hair dryer died down. I turned to him surprised, my face hidden by the cascading darkness of my hair. His eyes were still glued to the screen, his expression still and deep in thought, almost like he hadn't uttered the words.

I smiled and then sauntered towards him with deliberate slowness, like a tigress staking her prey, my gaze focussed on his unmoving form. If the twitch of the vein on his temple was any indication, I knew he had noticed me, yet he remained undistracted, his eyes glued to his laptop.

I settled besides him and then slowly leaned in to touch his face, my finger flirting with his cheekbone, then kissing down his chin, feeling his stubble scratch the pad of my finger. "Do you like it?" I asked, while my finger memorised every line and contour of his face. Despite the familiarity, the feeling still felt new, almost fresh and raw.

He looked at me, his face lightening up with amusement, "I love it." He rasped. His finger wrapped around the thick strand of hair falling on my face, before he carefully tucked it behind my ear. A soft blush crept up my face, my cheeks warming up with colour and I shyly looked away, my lips toying with a smile. "You have the most beautiful smile." His thumb languidly grazed the side of my face, drawing delicate patterns on my skin. I didn't have to look up to know his eyes were dancing with mirth at my reaction, but my smile widen and my face flooded with heat. "Look at me." He urged, his thumb pushing my chin up.

When I looked up, his dreamy eyes did nothing to assist with the utterly traitorous unspooling of heat in my body. "You're the reasons for all my smiles." I replied softly, chewing upon the corner of my lips.

He leaned in, his chin plopped up on his palm and asked, "Am I?" He said curiously, a callous hint of amusement darkening his eyes.

I almost laughed at this, "You don't have to gloat about it." I tried to act dismissive, but I could sense his mood shift, his shoulders relaxed and his eyes shone, so seemingly blithe.

"Oh, but I do."

"No, you don't." I shook my head and jabbed my finger into his chest, feebly trying to push his leaning form away from me. His eyes shifted to my finger and he laughed, lilting the room with his airy chime. My heart warmed at the sight in front of me. His smile was infectious. But I had little time to admire it, because his hand wrapped around my wrist, pulling me firmly into his chest. "Leave me—"

His finger shoved onto my lips, silencing me, all protests fading away into the darkness of the night. I stilled against him, my treacherous heart thudding like a drum, while we stared at each other in the drunken haze. I could feel his heart beat against me. "Do you really want me to leave you?" His face inched closer, his warm minty breath fanning my face. His eyes glittered as they sought for answers in the frightening wilderness of my eyes.

Gold against charcoal.
Ice against fire.

I peered at him through the curtain of my eyelashes, my body shivering at the feel of his hand pressed against the small of my back pulling me impossibly close to him. "No," I breathed out heavily, my breath coming in quick and shallow. "Never. Don't ever leave me." My voice quivered with emotion. I knew he had asked that question as a harmless joke, but something about its underlying implication had me jolting to my core. And it made me realise how even the thought of parting from him had suddenly become so dreadful.

"You're a wild, dangerous fire." His thumb grazed across my lips, slightly tugging them open. His eyes narrowed on them, his gaze fiery and unwavering.

"If I'm a wild and dangerous fire, then I can destroy you. Burn you to ashes." My eyes narrowed at him in a dry challenge. "You should keep your distance."

"No," he whispered lowly, a light shining in the amber of his eyes. "I'd rather have you destroy me, than keep my distance from you." His face pressed against mine and he breathed heavily, "Burn me, Shanzae."

His thumb ran along the underside of my jaw and I shivered. Whether it was from his touch or the raw vulnerability of his voice, I wasn't sure. I pulled back slightly, staring at him intently. Noticing my movement, he shifted slightly, yet his expressions were abrupt in their intensity. I could not tell what it was, but there was something hiding underneath that heated skin. My eyebrows furrowed together and I looked up, meeting his scorching gaze with my questioning one.

"What's wrong?"

He shook his head, a weak smile carving up his face. "Nothing. Just pressed with work." He leaned in and kissed my nose.

My gaze darted towards the laptop lying on his lap and I groaned irritatedly. "You've changed." I complained, reaching up to lay my head on his chest, my arms winding around his waist. I could feel his chest shake with laughter, but his arm wrapped around my shoulder. "You barely spend time with me. You're always working. I just want to throw this away." I mumbled eyeing the laptop.

It took a few moments for him to process my words, before he squeezed me closer to him. "I'm sorry. There have been a few pressing matters that have taken a lot of my time." His lips pressed on the top of my head. "Just give me five minutes. And then I'm yours."

I giggled moving away from him, "You're already mine." I ruffled his hair, before pushing myself off the bed. "I'm waiting for you at the terrace." I called out as I walked towards the terrace garden adjoining our room.

"Yes ma'am."

Stars blossomed upon the ebony night sky like clusters of diamonds, a heavy contrast to the dull and forlorn sky. The moon was wrapped in a fleece of misty billowing clouds, the scent of roses and night jasmines seeping into the nippy air of the night. A gust of wind caressed my skin and breathed in deeply enjoying the freshness of the night.

I stood there for a while, before a pair of arms wrapped themselves around my torso, pulling me into a warm chest. I sighed into the familiarity, allowing myself to relax into him. A smile ghosted my lips.

"I missed you today." He nuzzled his nose into my neck, his arms tightening around me. Unwittingly, his lips brushed against base of my neck and I melted into his embrace, my hands holding onto his.

His touch was comforting. A blinding reminder of how much I craved it.

"I was only gone for half a day." I smiled through my words.

"Yeah. But I still missed you." He grumbled like a child who had lost his favourite toy. And then pressed his lips behind my earlobe, his lips lingering there for a while, before he spoke against my skin. "Sometimes I feel so selfish, but all I want to do is have you for myself." His palm slid down from my waist to the curve of my hips, his hold loosening.

I laughed and then turned around to face him, "My mother would not be very happy with this. She was already upset that I've barely visited them ever since we got married." I said after my laughter subsided, but a deep grin still plagued my face.

He pursed his lips and then nodded, "Yes. We should visit more often. She has every right to be upset with me." He paused for a while, his hands pushing the stray strands of hair from off my face, before he began again, "Why don't you invite your family over for dinner or something? Or we could spend Sunday there." His hands trailed down from my face to my shoulders and then settled behind the small of my back.

I stared up. "Really?" My eyes glittered with excitement. "I'll invite them over on Saturday. And maybe after visiting the orphanage on Sunday, we could stop by at my house as well. Mom and Dad would be so happy to have you over." I threw my arms around him in an unexpected hug.

He laughed at my excitement, fumbling back at my sudden action, before he quickly regained his composure and his arms lifted me off the floor.

"Even Layla was asking for you today." I said, when he lowered me back to the ground, my fingers still gripping onto his shoulders. "How was the meeting today?"

Aliyaar relaxed slightly, his lips twisting into a sardonic smile, "It was interesting." He spoke thoughtfully, yet the conflict in his eyes was unmissable. My eyebrows shot up at this words, "Zaroon was at his best behaviour." He chuckled. His voice was filled with sadistic sarcasm, but he quickly sobered up, and levelled his eyes to me, "But the most important thing is, Ibrahim uncle will not be contesting the election. The cases against him were already making it difficult, but now with his health your Grandfather decided it was best he stayed away."

I stared up at him, unable to believe the words, my eyes filled with unmitigated surprise. "And Ibrahim Taya agreed to it?" Perhaps the surprise on my face was rather evident because subtle amusement etched its way across his face.

"He wasn't present at the meeting, but from what I've heard he hasn't taken the news very well." The lines on his face fell into a shadow as he turned towards the light, taking my hand to walk besides him. "I'm assuming your father didn't know about this development, otherwise he would have told you."

"I am pretty sure he didn't know, but that's not important." I pulled my hand from his embrace and paced the length of the terrace, my mind immersed deep in thought. "That seat is vacant now. And you have a better chance. Did Dada Jaan make any official announcement?."

He shook his head and pushed back the lock of hair falling on his forehead, "He has been very tight lipped about it. But he did disclose the information to the top leadership. The news was expected, but the reactions have been mixed. Your uncle has some loyal supporters."

My hands dropped to my side and the lines on my brow deepened, "And what about a new candidate? Did Dada Jaan reveal anything about it?"

"Not yet. But he did mention he had a few names in mind."

"A few names?" My eyes squinted in distaste. But then it suddenly occurred to me and I turned to Aliyaar with an optimistic smile. "This is a perfect opportunity. The next political rally is barely ten days away. It is your time to shine. Show the world and him that you have what it takes."

There was silence, unfulfilling empty silence. A spark of something flashed on his face, maliciously lingering on the side of his lips. But like always his emotions were masked, giving very little of what was going on in his mind. I moved closer, hoping to convince him to open up. He breathed deeply, his eyes locked upon my face, reading every thought.

"Zaroon will be addressing the rally as well." Aliyaar stated blankly, his face was relaxed and his emotions were masked behind a facade of sheer indifference. "He will finally be introduced to the public." I stilled, hearing this new piece of information. "With your uncle finally out of the picture it was only a matter of time, Zaroon would be allowed to step forward."

I shook my head irritatedly, pressing my hand against my temples. "Ibrahim Taya was always so scared of losing his seat, that he made sure there was never a competition." I pursed my lips, feeling a bitter taste of disgust rise up my throat, my insides burning with irritation. "Heck! He didn't even let Zaroon Bhai come near it. Sad, how humans think they are invincible."

"Zaroon would have had to take over eventually. It was stupid of your uncle to not prepare him for it."

"Yes, but that works in your favour. Our favour." He nodded at me and then languidly walked towards the chair swing and settled in. He looked at me expectantly, silently asking me to sit. I slowly walked up to stand besides the swing. "You expect me to squeeze in this tiny space here?" I asked, pointing at the empty space besides him.

"There is plenty of space." He replied, before he grasped both my wrists into his hands and swiftly tugged me down into his lap. "See, plenty of space." He chuckled. For a while, I sat there frozen surprised at the sudden action. But when I didn't move, his hand brushed back my hair to the other side and his arms wrapped around me, his chin nestled upon my shoulder.

"And here I thought we were having a serious conversation." I rolled my eyes, biting my lip to stop them from spilling into a smile. However I soon relaxed into him, enjoying the warm brush of his breath on the sensitive skin of my neck.

I was lost to him, my capricious heart was only beating for him.

"We are having a serious conversation." He spoke with a pressing seriousness, but his fingers seemed to have rather sinful intentions, as they carefully began to untie the belt of my gown.

"Stop it." I slapped his hand, my eyes narrowing at him in warning. He chuckled and then moved his hands away from my waist to my shoulders, bringing me closer to him and pressing a lingering kiss on my cheek. "You're so annoying at times. We were having an important conversation and you're not even concerned." I twisted in his arms, trying to shrivel away from him.

I could feel his lips twist into a smile against my heated skin, before they slowly moved down the column of my neck. "We're still talking." I heard him say.

"We cant-" I mumbled incoherently when his lips moved to my shoulder, pushing the gown off my shoulder. "Not when you're doing this."

"Doing what?" He almost sounded innocent, but his lips continued to wreak havoc on my senses.

"Trust you to feign innocence." I sighed and turned my neck away to give him access. "Aliyaar." I asked after a while. "Can I ask you something?"

"Hmm?"

"Why are you still financing the election?" I could feel him freeze for an interminable beat, before he slowly pulled back. "My family did not honour their word, you don't have to keep your part of the promise either."

His face was still when he looked at me, his moonless eyes constricted momentarily, before he spoke with invariable intent. "You should know the reason why I'd think twice before hurting them." He said.

I turned to him with a sad smile formed on my lips, "This relationship was supposed to bring you security, yet it seems like its the very reason you're stuck in this predicament. I'm sorry—"

My words died on my lips, when his finger pressed onto my lips, "That's not true. This relationship has anchored me. It bought the stability and security I never knew I needed." He lifted my chin to make me look into those honeyed drizzled eyes. "My soul sees it's whole world in you." His hand raised my arm to him and he leaned in to press a kiss on the inside of my wrist. "My whole world."

"But—"

"But despite everything I still don't get a bad deal. Your grandfather has been extremely resourceful for our company. Even if I don't become the Chief Minister, I will still get a lot of political exposure." He assured, "And the next election I will be in a better position to contest without the support of your party."

"But if you become the Chief Minister this year, next time you'd have a better chance of becoming the Prime Minister." I concurred.

"How did you know I wanted to try for the Prime Minister next time?" He watched me carefully, the flash of surprise quickly hidden behind somber reflectiveness.

"I'm not stupid. Why else would you be so adamant on becoming the Chief Minister. And even if it's not next term, it might be the one after. Either way I know that's your ultimate goal." A soft breeze swept across the terrace, whipping through my long hair. Lonely strands of hair flew over my face obscuring my views and features.

"You reckon I can become the Prime Minister one day?" He stared at me as the gust of wind died down and his fingers ploughed through the length of my hair. His hand curled around the thickness of my hair gently tugging them. This wasn't the first time he had toyed with my hair, yet every time he played with it, the fluttering in my stomach would return with a vengeance.

I turned around to face him and then raised my hand to cup his face. "I reckon?" I asked lowly, while my thumb grazed the shadows of his jaw.  "I believe you'll become the Prime Minister one day. It's only a matter of when." I leaned in and pressed my lips on his cheek, lingering there for a few moments.

"Your trust in me is encouraging."

"I talked to my dad today." I said. "He wants to support you Aliyaar. And I'm certain with dad's political acumen we can surely do this."

The edge of his eyes tightened minutely and for an instant he stared at me with subtle suspicion. "Why would be support me over Zaroon?"

I shrugged. "Siasat sirf mulk Mein nahi hoti, gharon mein, khandanon mein bhi hoti hai."  I replied without hesitation, my back steeled with the advent of the bitter truth.
[Politics isn't restricted to countries, every family, every house has their own politics.]

"If we have his support things will become very easy. He can help mobilise the support of several party members."

"Yes. But given the current political climate you cant just rely on party support. Your family is from the South and you have a very strong following there. Even if we win every seat from that region we can only get about 60-65 seats." I exchanged a thoughtful look with him and he grimaced in response, the understanding of my words registering with him. "We have to make sure all Independent candidates side with you as well."

"Shehryar is working with them. Hopefully we'll be able to get their allegiance. Dad has also met with a few of them in the past week." His tone turned serious, almost like he was discussing a business deal with me. "I'm meeting with the feudal lords of the area next week. If we have their support it would be a big help."

My forehead creased in deep thought and my fingers wove together into tight web. "Those men have been loyal to my grandfather for years. You'd need to give them a very strong incentive to switch. You can't buy them, you have to convince them." As I spoke, the vicious gust of wind began to tousle the strands of my hair and they fell on my face like an unwanted distraction. 

Steady amusement settled upon his face while he carefully watched me push back the irritating wisps of hair uncoiling on my face.  "You're right. But I don't know what I can do to convince them. I'm still looking at my options." His words still tinged with doubtfulness.

"It is imperative you get their support." I announced over the wind, "The people living under these lords, don't only support them, they worship them. They only vote for the person their chaudhry tells them to." I sighed at the crippling powerlessness of these people.

"The real power in the rural areas lie with them, but they'd be difficult to persuade."

"Everyone has a weakness. Find that weakness and exploit it. And if they don't have a weakness, then drown them in sea of favours. Itna ehsan karein ke woh phir apke samne apna sar na utha sakein."  My voice rung into the wallowing darkness of the night, conniving and  calculative. For a moment, even I was surprised at the astonishing emptiness of my tone.

[bestow so many favours on them that they are unable to lift their head.]

A bitter laugh rose up my chest as the realisation began to dawn upon me. Politics was like a fine glass of wine, its drunken high of power was intoxicating, yet the more you drank, the more you'd exsanguinate yourself. In the end, it would leave you with a body without a soul. And slowly I too, was falling prey to the anarchy and chaos of the world I was born in, the world I despised.

"What's wrong?" Aliyaar's voice bought me back from my darkening thoughts. I shook my head, pushing back the macabre thoughts behind me. "It wont be easy." He said referring to the feudal lords.

I nodded, still deep in thought. There had to be a way. Just then my eyes caught the sight of a small plastic bag and I reached out to hold it. I stared it at carefully as an idea struck my mind. I took the bag and jerked it with a force. The bag puffed up, trapping the air inside it. I quickly snapped the end together causing the bag to swell up like a balloon. "I trapped the air, Aliyaar." I spoke excitedly, holding the bag in from of him.

His brows rose a fraction, his face drawn together with an incredulous expression. "What do you mean?"

"This morning when I was at my father's house, I was wondering if there was a way to trap air. I thought about it all afternoon but couldn't thing of anything. But right now I just trapped air, inside this bag." I held the bag in front of him. "Nothing is impossible. It might be hard, but its not impossible. You can do this. You will do this." I smiled at him encouragingly.

He smiled and then leaned in to place a quick kiss on my lips, before he corrected me, "We can do this. We will do this!"

Sorry about the delay you all & thank you for sending all the good wishes and messages my way. The concern meant the world.

I'm not too happy with this update but I hope you all like it. Let me know your thoughts.

Do check out the trailer of the book below and follow me on Instagram for more behind the scenes and extra content on the book.
@sssaltynothings

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Until next time, keep me in your prayers.