•| feelings |•

•••
ek aakhri koshish ki jayegi aapko paane ki
ya toh zindagi sawar jayegi ya toh bikhar jayegi
•••

Fidah sat on the bolster ruffed ottoman, opposite to the old patriarch of the house. A chess board between them. A tense silence rang through them soon to be cut off by a whiny voice.

"Mama yaar, mein depression mein jaa raha hoon."
(I am going into depression)

Another loud voice rang back as Dada Jaan flinched in annoyance twitching his lips.
"Jahan bhi jaa rahe ho shaam tak waapas aa jaana aur thoda dhaniya laakar do."

(Wherever that you are going come back by evening and bring coriander also)

"I am going to win, beta. Despite all the nuisance that surrounds me, I am going to win." Dada Jaan grinned, his fingers moving the black bishop forward, killing Fidah's rook strategically.

She bit her lip nervously, she wasn't used to losing. Her father was a master at chess and had thought her well but the old man seemed to be beyond that. A prodigy in a sense. Years of experience spoke loud and even her mastery of every move failed. Her loss was looming evident but she was better than that. She was going to put on a brave face and fight till the end.

"The game hasn't ended yet." She made another futile move that only brought him closer to his victory. He had a perfect checkmate. Fidah only prayed a miracle transpired, she didn't make a pretty loser.

"Ahah. Let's end it then, shall we?" Just as he began to pick up his piece for checkmate, a loud shrill rang through the air before a ball came tumbling down on the chess-board, the pieces toppling over in all directions. A miracle had actually struck. Fidah's prayers answered at a lightening speed.

Dada Jaan gaped like a fish while Fidah broke down into fits of laughter. A grand finale indeed. Rushing over to the culprit, she picked up Izzah in her hands and kissed her pudgy cheeks.

"What a match no? Dada Jaan."

"Beda gark tum sab ka! La hawla wala kuwata. Din hi kharab hai aaj ka." He grunted, clutching his snow-white hair in his hands.

Fidah smiled wide, tickling Izzah's cheeks with the back of her fingers. Sometimes Allah answers our prayers in a matter of seconds no matter how mundane they are and it makes you believe everything would be alright after all.

"Salam, everyone!" A smooth feminine voice announced causing everyone present in the room to look at the source. A young olive skinned woman promenaded inside, her long brown hair reaching just below her waist, a gorgeous bright red lipstick painted on her full lips. Her striking greyish-turquoise eyes sparkling with excitement. A dark peacock green velvet kurta with a V-neck highlight her nearly perfect collar bones, paired with white straight pants.

"She's pretty, isn't she?" Yaseen voice echoed from beside her dragging Fidah out of the deadly trance.

"Very.." She swallowed the lump in her throat, she had a bad feeling about this already.

"Ohh welcome! We were waiting for you." Dada Jaan gave the alluring woman a smile as she walked towards him, putting her expensive handbag on the ottoman that Fidah was seated on.

"Haha well here I am, Dada Jaan!"

"Don't get deceived by her looks, Baji. Ye balaa ki khubsoorat zaroor hai, par shaitaan bhi tauba karle iske kaam dekh kar." Yaseen whispered again, his eyes scanning the woman's cheerful interaction with Dada Jaan with nothing but caution.

"Who is she?" Before Yaseen could answer her question, the vixen walked towards them. The huge oxidised jhumkas dangling from her ears chiming.

"Yaseen! How are you?"

"I was fine before I saw you, Naila. Not so much now." Yaseen answered candidly, as a sickening sweet smile took over his face. Fidah barely managed to pursue her lips from not gasping out loud.

She was Naila. The Naila that was supposed to marry her husband.

"Aah you are just as pestiferous as I remember you to be." Naila replied, mirroring the smile.

"Aah spare me the posh dictionary, you aren't the Queen of Nowhere. I can't make the head and tail of your attitude." Yaseen retorted, gazing down at him nails in boredom.

"And who might you be? Izzah right? Look how much you've grown." Naila ignored his reply and turned her head to the other side facing Fidah who had Izzah in her arms, the smile not wavering despite Yaseen's acidic response.

However, Izzah instantly started crying as soon as Naila forwarded her arms to grab her. Fidah bobbled her up and down trying to calm her down but to no avail.

"Guess, Aaj kal ke bacche mulazimon se bohot attached ho gaye hai." Her smile finally wavered as she dropped her hands to the side.

"Bacchon ko pata hota hai kaun churailain hoti hai. They can see what we can't, you know?" Yaseen piqued again, grabbing Izzah from Fidah's arms and placing her over his shoulders. She had calmed down now and was fascinated pulling his hair.
(Kids know who are witches)

"Is this how you behave with your future sister-in-law? Should I tell your mom about it?" Naila's facade seemed to be cracking as she gritted at Yaseen.

Fidah's eyes fleeted across the both of them and their dubiously obvious not-so-passive-aggressive conversation. She honestly didn't understand their dynamics at all. She had never seen Yaseen be so aggressively offhanded with anyone. Not that she minded, Naila already irked her the wrong way, "future sister in law" she said. A bubbling anger and insecurity plagued her.

"You didn't know? Zarrar Lala has come out of the closet."

"He has what?!" The two women looked on at Zarrar in perplexing disbelief.

"Yeah, he is gay." Waving a dismissive hand in the air, he moved side ways walking away from the conversation with Izzah pulling his hair.

"What are you bluffing, Yaseen Hamidi??" Naila yelled out loud, her face turning crimson. "Do not walk away."

"I hope you have a pestiferous week, Naila Siddiqui." Yaseen smiled mockingly, " Fidah Baji, would you like to join me and Izzah on a quest to get dhaniya and walk into depression?"

"Why are you talking to the maid so informally?!" Fidah shrugged away her shock as she followed Yaseen out of the house leaving behind a yelping Naila.

Fidah was stuck at a crossroad in her life again, this time it didn't scare her as much as it confused her, the whole Naila fiasco. There was something about the Hamidi Villa and its people that reminded her of home. A familiarity of sorts, like she had been there before. Something told her that her Nikkah to Zarrar was just a way for Allah to bring her to this. It was more than just a coincidence. It was fate.

"I don't actually think Lala is actually gay, I just said that to rile her up." Yaseen initiated the conversation as they walked side by side through the streets of the secluded neighbourhood. Only a few houses occupied the posh society and most of them were unoccupied vacation homes.

"I don't think so either, Yaseen." Fidah smiled lightly, her cheeks red. "I am sorry but why is she.."

"So obnoxious? So pretty but with a head weight that is not worth the beauty? Behind Zarrar Lala?"

"Yeah, all of those things."

"She wasn't always like this. She was very nice, annoying but nice. Once she took up modelling jobs and started obsessing over Zarrar Lala to marry her, she became whatever she is now." Yaseen replied, kicking a small stone that was in the way away.

Fidah again didn't know what to make of this information. The answers that she wanted were all right around her but so far away, tangled up in a box of secrets.

"Lala will never marry her. I don't know why she is wasting her life over him."

"And why won't he marry her?" Before she could process the question left her mouth, but Yaseen seemed unfazed by it as if already expecting this.

"I have never seen him be interested in marriage and the concept of companionship. All our lives, he was the bada bhai. An entity that was always around but never quite there. He kept to himself and his studies, after that it was his business. He is Dada Jaan's prodigious grandson. He was always burdened down by responsibilities that shouldn't have been his." He continued in nonchalance, his hands propelling Izzah on his shoulders, who was also keenly listening to her Mamu speak.

"I know he is lonely. He doesn't say it but he is. Our parents have given up on him, his dysfunctional ways of living are beyond them. Mama wants to get him married to Naila more for her own twisted convenience and status. Lala deserves love, someone who understands his freakishness. Someone who gives him love unconditionally because he deserves it more than anyone I know."

Fidah's throat dried up, her heart burning with a strong intensity.
"Why do you think Naila can't give him that?"

"Baji, you just met her!" Yaseen halted, looking at her ludicrously, Izzah frowning on his head as well.
"Naila and Lala are the peas of the same pod. Two dysfunctional and highly toxic species which upon union will only shatter whatever illusion that is built of their existence."

"Aren't you being a little dramatic?" She bit her lip, trying to keep up with his explanation.

"I am not! I hope you don't witness the catastrophe. Astagfirullah, I hope none of us do." He hissed as Izzah pulled his hair a little too strongly.

Fidah secretly hoped he was right. She didn't want to see the union at all. Her heart wouldn't survive at the end of that she knew.

——

As the evening drew near, Fidah walked through the corridors of the Villa, her body dragging her to the courtyard where she usually spent her time. The wedding festivities were in full swing, today was the mehendi and the house was decorated no more than a bride. She hadn't gotten her mehendi done when Dina had asked her to, one: she hated the smell. It always gave her a headache. two: guests were starting to question her presence in the house. Her being Ibrahim Bhai's relative somehow didn't seem to convince them. They were constantly gossiping and whispering snide remarks. So, she decided to get away and take a breather.

Once a thought had crossed her mind, she wanted to run far-far away. Never look back, start a new life. Her life wasn't tied down to a lot of people, not a lot of people cared if she lived or died. Even if they did it was fleeting. Grief was fleeting. Her grief of losing her father she realised was more a fear of being abandoned with no relations in the world. She loved her father, but he was just as fleeting as the grief she felt now.

It was weird, how her Baba loved her mother more than anything in the world and she had tried loving her father just the same. But it wasn't strong enough to hold him back to her. Her father was more of a guardian who visited every now and then. Reassuring her that she belonged.

Her feelings for Zarrar were starting to manifest into something a kin to what she believed her Baba felt for her mother and that only added to her worries.

"Careful, Naila!" Zarrar's voice caused her to look up to the balcony.

She blended within the shadows, her eyes straining towards the two figures on the balcony.
"Meri mehendi acchi nahi lagi tumhe?"
(You didn't like my mehendi?)

What were they doing all alone on the balcony like that? So close to each other that they could probably hear each other's breathing. Its spiked a rough jealousy within her veins. She had convinced herself to not doubt Zarrar but why was it proving to be so difficult?

"Mujhe kyu acchi lagegi tumhari mehendi? The smell gives me headaches. You know that already." Her husband, moved away from Naila's hands. His face scrunching up in disgust.
(Why would i like your mehendi?)

Fidah smiled bittersweetly. They were alike in so many ways, yet so different.

"Ek baat batao, tum kya waqai mein gay ho?" Came Naila's question, laced with apprehension and Fidah was consumed with a desire to smack her head against a wall.
(Tell me something? Are you really gay?)

"Kya bakwaas kar rahi ho? Saste nashe to nahi karke aayi ho?" Zarrar's tone rose offensively.
(What nonsense are you spewing? Have you done cheap drugs?)

"Then why don't you want to marry me, Zarrar Hamidi?!" She matched his tone, her frustration quite evident in her figure.

"You know why, Naila! I have explained it to you a million times already. Why do you purposely want to ruin your life?"

"Marrying you will fix it! I just know. We make a good pair. Your family loves me Zarrar. It will be the easy way out for the both of us."

Fidah's eyes stung as she saw Zarrar clutching Naila's shoulders and his voice dropping a few decibals, inaudible to whatever he was saying to her.

She turned her head away from them. Her fists tightening around the thin shawl she wore. She couldn't bear it, not anymore. Her trust was wavering and she realised she wasn't strong enough. Like she had predicted coming here was a mistake.

Depending on Zarrar Hamidi was a mistake, hiding their marriage was a mistake, seeing her husband consoling his potential spouse was a mistake. She felt cheap for the first time in her life. It felt suffocating to be this dirty secret that Zarrar hid from his family. She was an imposter, living amongst them, sharing meals and pretending to belong. Even though she had willingly agreed to everything, she realised it was ruining her.

She realised she had started thinking of Zarrar so often, that every corner of her heart echoed with his name. Her mind a vortex of his thoughts, she was afraid he had consumed her heart and mind. He had become her heart and mind.

She was jealous, insecure, anxious and perhaps already in love with the man who she was married to.

Maybe it was time to let go of everything. Or maybe it was time to tell him all that she felt for him.

—-

hii baby girlsss!
how did you like the chapter? it was short but I'll make up for it in the next one!
thoughts on naila and the whole fiasco?
do comment and likee!

love you!
byeee
~flawfully