یار فریدا لکھ عیدان مل سن
جد مل سن وچھڑہے ماہی

Monday - 5:45pm

The atmosphere was warm but the coldness that he felt at the moment made his toes curl, the hair at the back of his neck standing up in protest. With long voluminous lashes fused with each other and casting a shadow over the dry cheeks, Ibrahim Yazdani had had his hand placed on his stomach as he resisted the urge to get himself a blanket, fearful that sleep won't bless him again if he dared to do so.

"Abi! Abi!" The serenity was broken by the familiar voice of his mother and Ibrahim groaned slightly before gathering the energy to open his eyes and respond, silencing her instantly and a moment later, she entered the living room following his voice.

"Why are you sleeping here?" She asked, worried as she saw her son sprawled on the couch and Ibrahim raked a tired hand through his jet black hair before sitting up.

"I just dozed off." He replied, sleepy eyes gazing at the worried face.

"You're on holidays, for heaven's sake. Why do you have to tire yourself like this?" His mother, Mahwash Yazdani, placed a worried hand on her son's shoulder and a small smile touched Ibrahim's lips.

"I'm not tired, Ammu. I'm sleep deprived." Ibrahim responded as he leaned forward and poured himself a glass of water from the water bottle placed on the central table.

"Why are you sleep deprived? What are holidays for if not sleeping?" Ammu shook her head and Ibrahim chuckled slightly as he gulped the warm water down his throat, the movement of his Adam's apple a magnificent sight for the artists lacking inspiration.

"Other mothers will beg to differ." He said as he wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, a lopsided grin settled on his face.

"You hardly get enough sleep, Abi." She effortlessly ignored his remark and said.

"Ammu, Safaa and I watched movies last night. We slept late and then early in the morning Abbu sent me to his office to recheck the order and pay a visit to the land side." The light brown, cognac colored eyed gazed at the woman who bore him in her hands and saw as she huffed out in annoyance.

"I'll talk to your father. Why does he not understand that you are on your holidays? You should rest." Ammu seemed annoyed and angry as she uttered and Ibrahim's hand caught hers before he squeezed it a little.

"Ammu, Ammu! It's fine. He had some other work in the morning so he asked me. Give your man a little break!" Ibrahim laughed slowly and his mother squinted her eyes at the end before laughing too.

"And besides, I'm the only one who knows business a bit. Mustafa and Safaa are hopeless cases. What else do you expect?" Ibrahim added, mentioning his brother - Mustafa, who was older than him by two springs and maternal cousin, Safaa.

"When is Mustafa coming, by the way? I didn't reach his phone." Ibrahim asked his mother as he picked up his phone from the side.

"Around half past six. Your Abbu has already gone to pick him up from the airport." His mother informed him before she got up from the couch.

"And where's Safaa? I haven't seen her since morning." Ibrahim inquired after his cousin as he raised his head and met the eyes of his mother.

Safaa, the daughter of his maternal uncle, who had lived with them since she was only 7, the reason being her the sudden death of her parents in a car accident, had always been extremely close to Ibrahim.

In contrast to Mustafa, Ibrahim was the only one who didn't very much approve of Safaa, 4 years younger than him, living with them in the same house when they were children. Being cousins and visiting each other's home on holidays is one thing and coming to live forever in your house is an entirely different subject.

The quarrels that they had when they were only children had a bloody history, ranging from a broken nose to humiliation in front of the entire school but their egoistic fights and a handful of blames ended one day altogether when Ibrahim once caught her crying in the middle of the night.

They had been best friends ever since.

"Safaa is in her room. She was asking about you too, she seemed bored." Ammu answered and Ibrahim scratched his dark stubble with the tips of his long, thick fingers before standing up gracefully.

"I'll go see her. Can you ask Chacha to make me tea?" Ibrahim followed his mother out of the room, walking towards the staircase as he scrolled through his phone for messages.

With dark blue jeans hanging low along the waistline and white, creased, button-up shirt with its sleeves rolled over to the elbows and upper two buttons open, Ibrahim Yazdani's rough attire added heat to a day as cold as that in September. His feet were caged in the slippers as he walked down the hallway, the jeans tightening around the thighs on every step he took.

"I'll make you tea myself." Mahwash Yazdani added and Ibrahim stopped short before he smiled and casually hugged his mother from the side.

"What would I do without you?" Ibrahim sighed as they both walked away from the room.

"You wouldn't even be here without me, child." Ammu simply said, smiling, and Ibrahim didn't resist the laughter that tore through him.

"Fair enough." He responded with a laugh as he removed his hand from her shoulders and ascended the stairs while she walked forward towards the kitchen.

"Safaa?" Ibrahim had knocked at the door twice when Safaa opened it from the inside and after glancing at him for no more than a second, turned around and walked towards the wardrobe again which was wide open.

Ibrahim slowly followed her inside, his eyes horrified as they took in the sight of her room which was every inch a mess. From the bed that was filled with clothes, bags, and wrappers to the dressing table that looked as if a storm had hit it, Safaa Yousufzai's room clearly showed an insight of the room of a madman.

"What the hell.." Ibrahim slowly said as he passed some of the shopping bags that were carelessly discarded on the floor.

Safaa, who had her head buried in the wardrobe didn't pay much attention to the other person in the room, continuing with the work of ridding her wardrobe of every last piece of her clothing.

"What are you doing?" Ibrahim asked, surprised and curious as he stood beside her and watched her empty her wardrobe.

"I'm cleaning." She said, matter-of-factly, and Ibrahim's eyes widened a little before they rolled heavenward.

"You call this cleaning?" Ibrahim asked, shocked as he eyed the messy room.

"Yes, I hadn't cleaned it in so many days. I was a bit free today so I decided to get done with it. My wardrobe was overflowing with clothes." Safaa answered and Ibrahim shook his head slowly.

Safaa, unlike everyone else in the family, always cleaned her own room. No servant was allowed to enter her room unless she was present there herself, an order more of a request that was given by Safaa herself.

"Today's Monday. How can anyone be free on a Monday?" Ibrahim asked as he leaned against the wardrobe and saw her clean in her own strange way.

"I returned early from the college. Abbu was out, you were sleeping, Ammu was busy in kitchen and I was bored. I had to do something." Safaa said with a smile as she finally succeeded in emptying the wardrobe.

"Mustafa is coming. From now on, I promise that you won't get bored. He'll keep you entertained." Ibrahim said, pointing at Mustafa's outgoing nature and Safaa quickly raised her hands in front of her defensively.

"May Allah protect everyone from that kind of entertainment. I'd rather be bored, please." Safaa said, her eyes wide and Ibrahim chuckled, a rich sound that vibrated through his chest.

"I'll not forget to tell him your remark." Ibrahim warned and Safaa only laughed.

"I'm sure he knows this already." She said and this time, Ibrahim laughed.

"Safaa?" Ibrahim uttered her name after a while.

"Yes?" She asked without turning her head in his direction, now placing the clothes back in the wardrobe but neatly.

"Any problem? Any tension?" Ibrahim asked his routine question and Safaa stilled for a while before she turned to him, smiling.

"No, Abi. Nothing." Safaa replied like always and Ibrahim slowly smiled.

"You know you can tell me anything, right?" He said again and Safaa nodded her head like she always had.

"I know." She said just as sudden voices started coming from downstairs and both of them smiled brightly before walking towards the door.

"Mustafa!" Ibrahim saw Ammu hugging her son as he himself slowly descended the stairs with Safaa behind him.

With a large, lopsided grin playing jovially on his face and eyes shining, Ibrahim walked towards them and met his brother.

"Thank God. You're back after 4 months." Ammu exclaimed as she wiped the corner of her eyes and Safaa, who was standing beside her, wrapped her arm around her shoulder.

Mustafa, who was commissioned in Army as a Major was previously posted in Siachen for 1 year. Almost a week earlier, they got the news of his posting to Gujranwala, a city almost 80km north to the provincial capital, Lahore.

On his way to his new home, Mustafa and Ibrahim, who resided in Islamabad, made a plan of a small holiday in Abbottabad with their family, a reunion after almost four months.

"Now please don't say much weak he has become." Safaa said as she met Mustafa and a rich laughter echoed around the house.

"I was just going to say that." Ammu smiled warmly at Safaa and she looked at Mustafa knowingly.

"Mahwash, ask the servants to bring tea. Mustafa must be tired." Morad Yazdani looked at his wife as he said who nodded her head quickly before walking towards the kitchen.

"Ammu, ask them to bring my special tea too." Ibrahim yelled loudly after his mother who had disappeared behind the kitchen door.

"Special tea?" Mustafa asked, amused expressions on his face as he sat beside his brother on the sofa.

"Yes, she said she'll make me tea herself." Ibrahim answered proudly and Mustafa squinted his eyes, amused anger now settled on his face.

"You've been here for three days and you're still getting the special treatment? Come on, that's not fair." Mustafa said and Ibrahim only smirked in response.

"He's her favourite child." Abbu said, laughing and a loud sound of protest quickly followed.

"I'm her favorite child!" Mustafa and Safaa quickly said at the same time and Ibrahim suppressed the rich laughter due to the presence of his father.

"Your mother has played very well." Their father said, smiling gracefully as Ammu entered the room, followed by a servant who carried a tray in his hands.

"Oh, she sure has." Mustafa said, grinning and Ammu slapped him on the shoulders before giving him his tea.

"What kind of a shameless man have I raised? Have you no sense left that you're talking about your mother?" Ammu said, trying and failing to look angry as she sat beside her husband.

She could not be angry at Mustafa now, even if she tried to. Her son had returned home after 4 months. She was the happiest woman on the planet today.

"Ammu, all three of your children are shameless. If you continue complaining about us with this speed, you'll surely tire yourself at the end. It's better not to complain." Mustafa, the most talkative of all three of them, suggested at the end and Ammu glared at him before laughing.

Mahwash Yazdani had missed her son's playful remarks.

"Safaa is not. She's my most decent child." Abbu said and all three of them; Ibrahim, Mustafa and even Safaa herself stared at their father in shock before a laughter erupted inside the room, which was quickly suppressed when a confused expression migrated on their father's face, his eyes squinting.

"Safaa? Decent? Abbu, I didn't know you had humor." Mustafa said, still laughing and a shy smile touched Safaa's face but she glared at Mustafa nonetheless.

"She's better than you two, that's for sure." Ammu said and Ibrahim shook his head while laughing.

"And stop teasing your sister." The older man warned and Ibrahim and Mustafa stifled their laughter with effort, in vain, however.

"Anyways, I'll go and change." Mustafa said, getting up from the sofa while taking his tea along with him.

"Yes, yes. You need your energy to crack those stupid jokes of yours." Ibrahim said as he tipped his head against the back of the sofa, sprawling his arm over the back as he crossed his legs at his ankle, the material of his shirt tightening around the chiseled chest in the process.

"Brother mine, when have I ever allowed you to make fun of my jokes?" Mustafa stopped behind Ibrahim, holding a cup of tea in one hand while the other was thrust in the pocket of his jeans.

"Brother mine, when have I ever needed permission?" Ibrahim fired back and a grin touched Mustafa's lips.

"Your humor is improving. Good, good." Mustafa patted Ibrahim's shoulder from behind as he appreciated.

"My humor has always been good. It's just that you can't acknowledge if someone else has humor too." Ibrahim said with a chuckle and Mustafa now slapped Ibrahim's head from behind, causing Ibrahim to move forward quickly with a rich, unashamed laughter.

"I'll deal with you later." Mustafa said before turning around and walking towards his room, leaving behind an ear-splitting grin on everyone's faces.

|¤¤¤|

11:39pm

The night had completely engulfed the city in its wings, the hooting of the owls outside an alibi. With soft wind blowing around and crescent moon glistening among the black clouds, Abbottabad at the present moment was a serene sight, a joy for the eyes, standing with pride and surrounded by mountains.

Yazdani Mansion, a house spread over an area of 35 acres and located in the outskirts of the city provided a strange combination as the darkness that enveloped it was challenged by light that illuminated a room at the 1st floor of the mansion.

Ibrahim Yazdani sat in his father's personal library above the ground floor, his feet placed on the table in front as he leaned against the couch, almost in a sleeping position. With laptop placed on the stomach and eyes scanning the spreadsheet and charts opened in front of him, he seemed busy.

"I think Ammu was right when she said that you take your holidays for granted." Mustafa's voice disrupted the chain of thoughts entangled in his mind and Ibrahim smiled before turning his head towards his elder brother.

Mustafa stood in the doorway holding two mugs in his hands, a genuine smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Walking silently inside, he occupied the single seater sofa placed beside the large couch and Ibrahim straightened slightly in his place, placing the laptop on the side.

"I'm not used to free time." Ibrahim simply stated before accepting the mug from Mustafa's hand.

"Coffee? I think you've forgotten I'm Team Tea." Ibrahim chuckled as he remarked, looking at the Regular Coffee that filled his mug to the brim.

"I do remember, but I was making coffee for myself. Making tea for you would have costed me extra time and energy, and I seriously don't have the latter." Mustafa said as he himself eased into the sofa, placing his feet on the table too.

"I can't believe I'm meeting you after four months." Ibrahim exclaimed after a while and Mustafa smiled in response.

"Yeah, four damn months." He pressed his lips together as he shook his head sadly.

"Ammu was ecstatic when she saw all of the family together." Mustafa said and Ibrahim smiled at the memory.

"Family reunion is one reason why I still believe in happiness." Ibrahim said, not thinking before saying and the smile from Mustafa's face diminished reflexively before sadness replaced it.

"Me too. It's such a relief after long, tiring days." Mustafa was quick to agree however.

"Why are you not sleeping, though? I thought you would be dead asleep by now." Ibrahim asked as he sipped his coffee and looked at his brother.

"Change of place. It'll take time for me to get used to this comfort after spending more than a year in Siachen." Mustafa laughed as he said and Ibrahim looked at him with sadness lacing the brown irises.

"Why did you have to choose such a hard profession?" He shook his head slightly as he looked at Mustafa who only laughed.

"Every profession is hard, Abi. I've seen you work 21 hours without a break, I've seen Safaa carry out 36 hours shifts. Every single profession is hard in its own way." Mustafa said and Ibrahim frowned slightly before nodding his head.

"You're right but I don't think I can survive in -10°C, without any sort of communication networks, and all those continuous threats." Ibrahim shivered at the thought and Mustafa let out a rich laughter as he looked at his brother.

"Yeah, you can't," Mustafa grinned, "But it all comes down to the fact that you can't be an army officer like me just like I can't be a Chartered Accountant like you. It's all about your passions and where your heart lies." Mustafa said and Ibrahim smiled as he sipped his coffee, the steam rising from the mug and his face heating up under the fog of undifferentiated patterns.

"You're right,you know. My teacher once told me that there's no accomplishment in becoming a third-class doctor or a passionless army man. It's better that you become a cobbler but then make sure to become such a cobbler that Imran Khan comes to you for his toe open Peshawari Chappal." Ibrahim said and Mustafa seemed impressed but ended up laughing nevertheless.

"Why, Ibrahim, you've become intelligent in these four months. What happened, you fell in love?" Mustafa mocked and Ibrahim glared at him before laughing along.

"Don't make fun of my love virginity, Mustafa. I'm 28, I've never been in love and I'm proud of that." Ibrahim replied, feeling utterly pleased with himself as he straightened his shoulders and Mustafa could only grin in response.

"Brother mine, it's just a matter of few days now. Abbu told me that he has a mind to arrange your marriage in these coming days. Then I'll ask you about your love virginity." Mustafa mouthed the last word with sarcasm lacing it and Ibrahim's eyes narrowed dangerously before he shook his head to himself.

"Yeah, like he can marry me off without my consent. Besides, I'll run back to Islamabad if he even brings this topic up. I'm just not ready yet." Ibrahim shrugged his shoulders as he said, careless.

"Like you can. You know how emotional Ammu can be sometimes." Mustafa smiled and both of them smiled at some sweet memories that tickled the corner of their minds.

"But you also know how stubborn I can be. After all, I didn't give in to her emotional blackmail when she wanted me to become a doctor." Ibrahim laughed, a rich throaty sound that reverberated around the room.

"Anyways," Mustafa began again, "You'll get married one day and you'll fall in love. End of discussion."

"That's not going to happen. At least I don't think so." Even if Ibrahim was disturbed by the topic of his marriage, he didn't let it show and replied in the same tone as before.

"We'll see about that." Mustafa said as he raised his mug in the air towards Ibrahim before sipping.

"We'll see." Ibrahim's voice held surety.

|¤¤¤|

Tuesday - 2:21pm

The weather was shifting for the better, the long spell of rain which had continued for the past three days was coming to an end and Ibrahim Yazdani could finally see the sun, emerging from behind the clouds and painting an abstract art over the canvas of the sky, the orange, red and blue colors spreading along the horizon.

Exiting the house with car keys loosely hanging from his index finger and followed by Mustafa and Safaa, Ibrahim motioned the gatekeeper to open the gates of the house before he walked towards the driving seat of his father's car.

"When will your car come back?" Safaa asked as she sat behind on the passenger seat, Mustafa taking the front seat.

"In a day or two. The dent wasn't as bad as I thought." Ibrahim replied as he dipped his head and entered the key into the ignition and the engine roared to life a moment later.

"What happened to your car?" Mustafa asked as he tied his seat belt.

"Accident." Ibrahim looked at the rear view mirror as he exited the car from the garage, answering with little attention and turning on the music.

"What, how? Some lady got your attention and you couldn't focus on the road?" Mustafa turned towards his younger brother who had his eyes fixed on the road, but turned his head sideways to glare at him before chuckling slightly.

"Technically, no. But actually, yes. The accident was because of a woman, it's just that she wasn't the reason I was distracted." Ibrahim chuckled slightly, a sound that vibrated his chest and rang around the car.

"Yeah, the same woman you gave Mustafa's jacket too. He'll never forgive you for that." Safaa scoffed from behind and Ibrahim let out a rich laughter but Mustafa only stared in confusion and bewilderment at the two of them.

"You gave the woman a jacket you were wearing?" Mustafa couldn't believe his ears, clearly knowing how possessive Ibrahim always had been when it comes to his belongings, his clothes being on number two, second only to his glorious perfume and cologne collection and his royal Mercedes.

"Your jacket, Mustafa." Safaa again thought necessary to remind and Ibrahim only rolled his eyes at her.

"It doesn't matter if the jacket was mine or his. More pressing issue here is the fact that he gave his jacket to someone he didn't know." Mustafa sounded royally bewildered and Ibrahim frowned hard, his hands firmly placed on the steering wheel while the throbbing veins of his arms descended down towards the wrist in glorious lines.

"Man, come on. The woman needed it. It was raining heavily." Ibrahim responded in between the smiles, concentrating on the road that was buzzing with traffic at this time of the day.

"You not only gave the woman your jacket, you let her get away after damaging your car. Oh my, how things are changing." Mustafa seemed physically bewildered with eyes wide and mouth open.

"And you never give anything to anyone, even if they are on their death bed." Safaa remarked sarcastically from behind, earning a laugh from Mustafa but Ibrahim looked at her from the rear view mirror, glaring at her with an amused expression on her face.

"That's so not true. I gave Mustafa my cologne one." Ibrahim said emphatically as he neared the restaurant they were heading to.

"You took it back the next damn day!" Mustafa all but shouted and Ibrahim again laughed, Safaa just at his heels.

"Ahh, finally. The restaurant is here. I'm starving." Safaa said as she quickly exited the car and walked towards the entrance, the boys suppressing their smiles and looking at each other knowingly.

"Don't judge, okay? I didn't have my breakfast and today was hectic." Safaa said as she placed her order, ignoring the stares the two brothers were giving her.

"We're totally judging." Mustafa said and dipped his head to read the menu when Safaa turned to glare at him, grinning.

"Why was your day hectic?" Ibrahim asked after everyone had ordered and laced his long fingers with each other, placing his hands on the table and looked at Safaa directly.

"There are few weeks left before the modules." Safaa exhaled, tired and Ibrahim smiled sympathetically.

Safaa, after completing her MBBS, had decided to not practice in a hospital as a normal doctor but to pursue a career as a lecturer and teach in a Medical College, a combination of her two passions; medical and teaching.

"Ibrahim, can I ask you something?" Mustafa began and Ibrahim knew already what question was coming his way.

"It's not like my no will stop you from asking but our conversation about that woman is over." Ibrahim said as he looked at Mustafa who was sitting beside Safaa, opposite him.

"Not that woman, man. The jacket. I'm still not over it." Mustafa said and Ibrahim groaned as he threw his head back.

"You guys have punctured my repute." Ibrahim exclaimed, shaking his head and widened his eyes in disbelief.

"Each word of it is true, though." Mustafa shook his head as he said and Ibrahim glared at him, frowning.

"None of it is, I'm a very generous person. It's just that you guys deserve not a penny of mine." Ibrahim reiterated and a laughter filled their table before Mustafa slapped Ibrahim's hand.

"Why is the food not coming?" Safaa ranted out of nowhere and everyone now turned towards her.

"You've gained so much weight since the last time I saw you. Watch what you eat, girl." Mustafa said humorously and Safaa's eyes narrowed for a second before she shrugged her shoulders.

"I had a tough day, I deserve this." She said and both of them smiled.

Safaa, unlike most of the girls Ibrahim had ever known, wasn't much conscious about her weight. She was healthy, a thing she didn't achieve out of workouts but mere busy schedule. Although both of them had teased Safaa about her weight on numerous occasions, they were only met with deaf ears as she had never paid any attention to their remarks.

"Thank God they brought the food before I passed out." Safaa said as she saw waiter approaching them with a tray of food in his hands but Safaa's wide smile turned into a scowl when he turned and placed the tray on the table occupied by some two women.

"These waiters can give or take our happiness in mere seconds. Allah will ask them!" Safaa exclaimed loudly but was quickly hushed by Ibrahim who glared at her.

"Abi, I think you should be nominated by Guinness World Record for giving the most number of glares in one day. I'm sure you'll win." Safaa said, making Mustafa laugh but Ibrahim who began to glare at Safaa but dropped his eyes after a second, shaking his head in amusement.

"Relax, our food is here." Mustafa said just as a waiter approached their table and started placing the food on it.

Ibrahim, who had laughingly turned his head to look at the women Safaa was talking about now straightened it back and focused on the food in his plate, not succeeding at catching a glimpse of them because of the waiter who had appeared between them.

Ibrahim Yazdani didn't know what he had missed.

|¤¤¤|

Hello, lovelies.

The male lead has been introduced, what do you think of him?
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Till next time,
Salam!