یک هـمدم باوفا ندیدم جز درد
My constant companion is only pain

Tuesday, 9:29am

It was her Dadu who had fallen, and it was Hemayal who thought that she would never be able to stand up on her feet again.

It was her Dadu whose heart had stopped beating, and it was Hemayal who thought that there is a gaping hole in her chest where her heart used to be.

And it was her Dadu who had died, and it was Hemayal who thought that life has abandoned her in the most brutal of ways.

It had been three hours - three hours and twenty seven minutes - since her Dadu had left this world, and with each second passed, she felt that her own death was nearing. Every breath seemed more difficult than the previous, each beat more broken than the last. The pain she had been enduring since last night seemed nothing in comparison to the misery she was going through right now - this was the real pain, this was the real heartbreak.

This is what death must feel like; this is how it must hurt when soul abandons the body.

All the pains she had encountered in her life, of different depths and kinds, had not managed to break her. Yes, they snatched the ground from under her feet; yes, they made her fall on her knees and yes, they did snatch the living breath out of her but they never, not even once, stole her desire to live. They never took away her hope for a bright future, her desire to lead a contented life, her dream to live peacefully.

But this one, this absolute heartbreak, this disastrous misery, it made her wish to never breathe again. It made her wish things she knew would hurt her Dadu if he was alive - a desire for the end, a craving for the death. But that was where all the problems lied - if he was alive. It was this if and absolutely nothing mattered to her anymore, no reality, no sanity.

"Hami!" A voice rang close to her, knocking at the already rusted door of her mind and Hemayal fluttered her eyes open, her irises red that held centuries of pain behind them.

The ashen face of Mehmal spun before her eyes for a second before she dropped the lids again, the wet lashes fusing to form a mess, tear stains tainting the cheeks and temples. It had been three hours since she had been lying on her bed, head against the headrest, three hours since the doctor had given the final news of the death of an old man she valued more than her own life. After then, her limbs had refused to function and she had fallen on the ground, in absolute misery, in sheer agony.

She did not know when the doctor came and tended to her wounds, when she prescribed her medicines and bed rest, when she went. She did not know any of that. However, she did know one thing that the doctor wanted to drug her with sleeping injection but she had refused, not willing to let go of the thought of her Dadu as of yet. She wanted to feel him, and with that, she wanted to torture herself.

After all, it was because of Hemayal Khakwani that Masood Khakwani was no longer alive. It was because of her that he did not live to see the sunset of this day. It was the love that he had for Hemayal that caused him his life; it was his pain for his granddaughter that wrote away his death.

It was Hemayal and her decisions which signed the warrant of his death, of an old, aged man with white hair who loved her more than he should have.

"Hami, please, wake up. Eat something, please." Hemayal heard the cry of her cousin but there was no heart left in her to feel the pain hidden in these words.

She felt a feather-light touch on her arm, an infinitesimal action that made pain find home in her, and she again forced the heavy lids to slide open, a kind of heavy that made each part of her ache. Mehmal was staring down at her with flushed face, crying but controlling herself, for Hemayal alone.

"You have to eat something." She whispered, voice absolutely broken.

"I can't, Mehmal." The whisper was loud in the silence of the room, heavy for the broken hearts of theirs.

"Hami, please. You need to take your medicine." Mehmal sat in front of her on the bed, their faces and pains leveled.

"I just need Dadu, Mehmal." Her voice was calm but broken, peaceful but tormented, composed but teary.

"Dadu would not want you stay hungry." Mehmal tried to earn one look of her cousin but she had her mind somewhere else, eyes, also, were fixed straight ahead at the wall.

"Dadu would not want to leave me alone either." Her mind was a mess, an intricate mess of thoughts, emotions and pain, each adding to the trouble that had already found residence in her soul.

A slow cry made Hemayal finally turn her head towards her cousin, her dried and aloof eyes coming to rest on Mehmal's glassy ones. The pain they felt was mutual, the ache they witnessed was common, yet Mehmal had her nerves under control - Hemayal was too far gone to comprehend her surroundings.

But at the end, Mehmal was not the cause of their Dadu's death. She, at least, had one reason less to mourn.

"Okay, fine. Don't eat anything, but please Hami, talk to me. I beg you." Hemayal had her eyes on Mehmal's crimson face, her nose reddened as she talked, very different to those of Hemayal's which were all pale - as pale as death.

"Talking is painful, Mehmal. It's painful." Hemayal whispered, a sad expression settling on her face as she regarded her cousin with distant gaze and Mehmal only tried to keep her tears at bay.

After a moment of staring without looking, Hemayal turned her head back around, dropping shut the lids again, too tired, too wounded. Mehmal, who was observing each and every one of Hemayal's expressions too keenly, looked deeply troubled as she eyed her cousin fragile state.

"Do you want me to leave?" Mehmal asked, hoping that Hemayal would let her stay, hoping that Hemayal would at least talk a little bit.

Ever since Hadeed Lala brought her back to her room, cradled in his arms, Hemayal being too weak to carry herself, she had been sitting in the same position. Not even a lash had been moved and to say that Mehmal was scared would be an understatement. She was frightened, worried and everything in between.

"Yes." Hemayal said, a soft whisper, eyes still closed, pain still growing.

"Hami." A soft cry left Mehmal's lips, her lips pursuing in absolute affliction.

"Please, Mehmal." The softness in Hemayal's tone compelled Mehmal to stand up, though unwillingly.

She did not want to push Hemayal but she also did not want to force her, for Mehmal understood the fragility of Hemayal's condition right now. Not only physically, she was hurting emotionally as well, her mind a complete mess right now - of so many memories, of so many regrets.

"I'll be outside, Hami. Please eat something." Mehmal said before turning around and walking outside the door, slowly closing it behind it.

Just as she stepped out, Hemayal dropped her head, starting from the beginning to count all the pains and aches till date. And Allah, they were uncountable.

Although Hemayal was a psychiatrist herself and she knew how to deal with mental health and trauma, she would not be prepared for what happened in a single day to her for another century or more - it would be far too less a time. Her physical health wad towards decline, her mental health was at stake, her emotional condition was not stable and everywhere she gazed at, it was a dead end.

No path was open to let her through, no way merciful enough to make her reach her destination. Every point in life crowded with hundreds of surprises and shocks, all bad. It was as if the world had closed all its doors on her and Allah, she was suffocating.

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8:47pm

The day had come to a painful end, the black hues in the sky outside too similar to the ones that resided in her; the heavy rain that poured outside almost the same as the warm water that fell on her heart in a never ending flow.

Although the day had almost ended, for Hemayal, it felt like it was only just beginning. Nights bring with them their own share of miseries and reminders, and emotions we desperately try to hide in the light of the day come out in full force, threatening to engulf us all. They say that a person's senses sharpen up in the nights - they say it right. The ferocity with which the feelings are felt; the sentiment with which they are comprehended and the means with which they are interpreted - they all heighten up.

And sometimes, it does more harm than good.

Her position had not changed on the bed for even a second, except for the blanket which had been drawn upwards to cover her lower limb, but that too was done by Anisha Bhabhi without disturbing her chain of thoughts, without interfering in her semiconscious state. Since morning, everyone had come to her at some point, trying to talk to her, trying ever so desperately to make her talk. But in vain.

No word had uttered from her mouth ever since Mehmal left the room, no piece of food had gone down her esophagus since last evening, no amount of pain had lessened over a course of a few hours. She still sat in the same manner; head leaned against the headrest; eyes staring ahead into nothingness.

The slow creak of the door halted her thoughts for a second, but just a second it was and she resumed her torturous thoughts not a moment afterwards - thoughts that encompassed her grandfather and Ibrahim Yazdani and how she missed the former and hated the latter.

Hadeed Lala entered in Hemayal's peripheral vision, closely followed by Mehmal. Both of them had pain and worry lacing their faces and concern their eyes as they sat opposite to her on the bed after a moment of thought; Mehmal on her right side and Lala near the edge of the bed nearer to the door. Taking Hemayal's hands in his own, she saw her lowering his head before his trembling lips touched Hemayal's knuckles.

Hemayal looked at him with the same distant look, almost looking like a person who had lost each last shred of sanity, her eyes fixed on his head as she felt warm tears falling on her hand, its warmth welcoming but strange against the coldness of her hands. Hadeed Lala leaned his head against Hemayal's head as he cried slowly, so slowly that she would have hardly even felt it if not for the tears that watered her skin.

"I'm sorry, Hami, so sorry!" He finally uttered a word, raising his head to look directly in Hemayal's eyes, the hollow, empty eyes.

"Dadu, where is he? Did you bury him in the graveyard?" Hemayal finally broke the wall of silence she had built around herself, the hoarseness of her voice doing little to ease the heart of the people who were dead worried about her.

"Yes, I just came back from there." Hadeed Lala informed her, wiping his eyes with the back of his sleeve.

Hemayal only managed a nod before she turned her head back again, eyes again coming to fall on the wall she had become so familiar with. With her hands still gently placed in Hadeed Lala's hand, Hemayal began to close her eyes, falling back again in the wall of distance she had built around her before Hadeed Lala pulled her out of it.

"Hami, please talk to me." He almost begged and Hemayal opened the lids, eyes again falling on her brother's ashen face.

"Do we really need to?" Hemayal questioned him, eyes narrowing around the edges as she regarded his worried face.

"Yes, we do. Talk to me, shout at me, cry with me but please, do something. For Allah's sake, Hemayal." The glass in Hadeed Lala's eyes reminded her of her mother from whom both of them had inherited their large, brown eyes, it reminded her of the losses she had suffered throughout her life and like a cycle, it came back to remind her of her Dadu and the huge loss she had just suffered today.

And suddenly, she broke down.

"Lala!" Finally, she whimpered, letting a small sob wreck through her as sudden and fierce tears begun to spill out of her eyes, the pale face turning crimson, lips swelling and nose reddening.

Hadeed Lala did not wait a second more before he buried Hemayal in his arms, her head coming to rest on his sagged shoulders as her sobs intensified with each sympathetic word whispered in her ears by Lala. Mehmal patting her back only added to her pain - both physical and emotional - and suddenly, the reality of the situation dawned on her and with it, the realization of the huge, enormous loss she had suffered.

"Lala, Dadu. Dadu. Please, bring him back, please. I'll do everything he says, I'll never fight with him again, but please, bring him back, just once. Just once, Lala, please." Hemayal words did not make much sense but the emotion in them could fill novels.

Hadeed Lala's hold around her tightened and Hemayal, who used to flinch even at a minor contact, showed no care in the world as she cried her heart out in the arms of her elder brother. No physical pain mattered anymore because the emotional pain was too titanic to bear, too enormous.

"It's okay, it's okay." He shushed in her ear, his small words tending to her wounds and tearing it apart at the same time; former because that was what she needed - kind words and gentle arms around her; latter because it reminded her of the person who had always been her support.

"Lala, how can he do this to me? How can he leave me like this, all alone?" Hemayal pulled back from Hadeed Lala's arms, forcing her head up to look in his eyes, asking questions to which there were no answers.

"Lala, what will I do without him? Without his admonishments, his guidance, his love? Lala, how will I survive?" Tears stained her cheeks, her heart, her life but she hardly cared for her face was already scarred, heart already broken and life already a mess.

Hemayal did not care that everyone had gathered in her room now - Jahangir Chacho, Darakhshan Chachi, Anisha Bhabhi and even her father - and stared at Hemayal's break down, everyone's eyes wet, everyone a different shade of pained.

Tears, new and voluminous, filled her eyes to brim, cascading down her high cheekbones, some dropping down the chin, some dampening the lips but all contained the same pain, the same ache and each one mourned because Masood Khakwani was no longer alive.

"Hemayal, please, gather yourself. You know how Abbu felt when you cried. We can only pray for him, child." Jahangir Chacho came to stand beside her, placing his hand on her head, talking ever so gently, reminding her of his father.

"How will I ever forgive myself, Chacho? How will I ever look myself in the mirror?" Hemayal looked up at her Chacho, tears still streaming down the face.

"It is not your fault, Hami. It was his fate to die like this, on this day. Please don't torture yourself like this." Anisha Bhabhi said, standing behind her husband, looking at Hemayal with the same expressions as everyone.

"It is, don't you guys get it?" Hemayal suddenly shouted amidst the tears that soaked her face and croaked her voice, "He died because he loved me too much, because he could not imagine the thought of anything happening to me. He had a heart attack when he saw me like that, heart attack, and you still think it was not my fault?"

"Yes, it is not. You are not at fault here, the one who did this to you is." Mehmal said from behind and Hemayal almost stopped for a second as memories, vivid and haunting, came crawling back to her heart, filling her with sensations of dread - utter, absolute dread.

The sudden quietness that fell on Hemayal was felt by everyone and the horror and worry that rested on their faces was something that had become a constant now since the morning. They all gazed at her with concern-studded eyes and fear-stained expressions, their looks enough to convey the message of dread in their hearts, making Hemayal want to kill herself.

Nobody had questioned her what atrocities occurred last night, courtesy to Lala who had severely warned everyone not to disturb Hemayal in any way. For now, she was saved, Dadu's death and Lala's warning putting Hemayal's issue in the perspective for a while. But sooner than later, the tides in the oceans would rise and she would have no way out.

"What happened last night, Hemayal? Who were the people who did this to you?" Daraskshan Chachi said, standing beside Anisha Bhabhi, her eyes resting on Hemayal's wounds as she motioned towards the scars that covered her body.

Everyone's eyes came to settle on Hemayal, including Hemayal's father who had not uttered a single word since he had entered the room - much to Hemayal's fortune because she knew that his words will only add to her pain and nothing else.

"Yes, Hami. Who were the people? Just tell me and I swear to God, I will not leave those bastards." Hadeed Lala said, voice hard and firm, making Hemayal's tears come to an abrupt halt.

Should she tell them about the man who held her captive for one night?

About Ibrahim Yazdani?

How would they react? What would they say?

So many questions crossed Hemayal's already weak and vulnerable mind, making it even more fragile in the process, making her miss her grandfather more intensely. He would have saved her from everyone's questions, he would not have forced her to say anything.

But then again, he never forced Hemayal to say anything. He just talked, comforted and Hemayal was compelled to reveal her secrets on her own. And above all, he knew Ibrahim Yazdani was back, he understood the effect that man had on her, irrespective of whatever way she tried to hide it in a thousand satin layers of secrecy.

"Hami?" Mehmal placed a hand on her back, saving Hemayal from the wave of sentiment and nostalgia that had suddenly hit her.

"I..I don't know. I did not recognize them." Hemayal said while looking in the eyes of her brother, layer of pain again coming to set on her face as she lied with hesitation.

"They must be one of your father's enemy. Don't worry, we will find them out." Jahangir Chacho glared at Hemayal's father from above her head, and suddenly, everyone's eyes travelled in the same direction.

Although Hemayal knew it was a false allegation, she did not correct her Chacho and everyone else, deliberately misleading the lot but right now, it was the least of her concerns. She herself did not know why, but saying Ibrahim's name in front of everyone did not seem right to her at the moment.

What would they think of her when they will find out that Ibrahim Yazdani kidnapped no one else but Hemayal Khakwani?

"It must be, I've been getting a lot of phone calls lately. But I will find out, I will." Shahriyar Khakwani said for the first time, his face setting in a grim line as he spoke.

Hemayal's eyes found that of her father's, for the first time and the pain, worry and determination there shook her. It had been ages, literally, since she had seen him worried about her. The determination in his eyes to find the man who wounded his daughter almost made Hemayal cry out, now for entirely different reasons.

But after a moment, she composed herself, in time, before much damage could be done. History had bore witness to many occasions where her heart had softened towards her father, but each time, it had ended up being absolutely broken. And right now, she was already a broken mess, she could not handle any more of the heartache. Honestly, she had had enough to last for a lifetime.

As Hemayal witnessed everyone's attention diverting to a topic that made her physically ache and reminded her of all the things she wished she could forget, she felt an extreme desire to be alone right now. With her weakness setting in and sanity escaping out, she closed her eyes for a brief moment before opening them again.

"I want to be alone right now." Hemayal said as she looked down at her hands, not crying now, much to the relief of everyone, but not completely stable either.

"Sure, sure. Have some rest. You need that." Hadeed Lala said, quickly getting up from the bed.

"But please eat something, Hami." Anisha Bhabhi said but Hemayal shook her head, eyes tired, irises red from all the crying.

"I don't want to. Maybe later." She said before closing her eyes and dropping her head against the bed rest.

Everyone slowly started leaving the room without much insistence, much to Hemayal's relief, and after a moment of activity, only Hemayal was left in the room, silence sprawling around her as she fell back on the bed.

Hemayal along with her memories - after all, they were going to be together for a long time now.

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Wednesday, 11:21am

A complete day had passed and the pain still refused to subside even a little bit. If at all possible, it only intensified. A day had passed and Hemayal still could not wrap her mind around the reality of the situation she had been thrown in, still could not believe that Dadu really had passed away, left her for good.

They say that the true value of people is only revealed after their death, before that they are just taken for granted, but sometimes it is a mere false belief. Even in his life, Hemayal had never taken her grandfather for granted. Yes, they had arguments and yes, they had disagreements but even then Hemayal knew how important he was for her, for her sanity and survival.

And now that he was gone, both were at risk.

She had no idea how she will manage to lead the rest of her life without him, without his gentle guidance and his own strange ways of comfort. To say that Hemayal was emotionally dependent on him would not be an exaggeration at all; she truly inclined on him whenever and wherever her mental stability was in question.

A new day had begun, bringing with it new rays of miseries and galaxies of emotions. But she knew that a lifetime would be too less a time to mourn at his departure, it would never be enough. Days could pass, gradually or rapidly, it did not matter anymore. For her, each day was going to be just the same.

"Hami?" Mehmal slowly opened the door before stepping inside, looking a lot fresher than last night but pained nevertheless.

Hemayal, sitting beside the window and staring outside at the orange and blues of the sky, rotated her head to catch a glimpse of Mehmal. Mehmal, on seeing Hemayal out of the bed felt visibly relaxed and walked slowly towards her, contented but worried nonetheless.

"When did you wake up?" Mehmal questioned as she dragged a chair across the room and sat on it in front of Hemayal.

"It has been a few hours." Hemayal answered slowly, turning her attention back to the serenity of outside, very much contrasting to the despair that resided in her.

"You slept well?" Mehmal asked, a question whose answer she already knew.

Hemayal only turned her head around slightly, giving Mehmal a look that conveyed messages. Both of them knew the magnitude of last night, both knew that sleep do not come in these times. And most importantly, both knew that memories do not let a person rest, and when they come out in full force, a task as simple as shutting lids becomes that of enormous magnitude.

Mehmal nodded her head in understanding; after all, both of them were going through the same pain.

"Your scars are a little better now." Mehmal looked at Hemayal's face intently, trying desperately to keep Hemayal talking.

The scars that covered Hemayal's face where the doctor had applied ointment just yesterday seemed a lot better than the time when Hemayal returned at the doorstep of the house. Then, they were wounds that bled terribly, her whole face covered with so many of them so that all of it was crimson. Right now, they had healed a little, but then again, it were the wounds on her heart that did not seem to get any better.

"Yeah, a lot." Hemayal answered with a small nod.

"You ate something?" Mehmal asked, worried and cautious, and Hemayal again nodded.

"Anisha Bhabhi brought something an hour ago." Hemayal replied, looking at Mehmal who continuously eyed Hemayal with worry lacing her expressions.

"Hemayal, are you fine now?" She suddenly asked, eyebrows creased and pain sprawling on her face.

"No, Mehmal, I'm not fine." Hemayal answered truthfully, a truth that made every inch of Mehmal ache as she sagged her shoulders - in defeat, in pain.

"I lost Dadu, Hami. I do not want to lose you too." Mehmal said after a moment of heavy silence, her words too sharp for Hemayal whose heart tore a little bit more.

"How can you not lose me when I have already lost my own self, Mehmal?" Hemayal questioned, a sad smile coming to rest on her face which made Mehmal's heart drown in an ocean of agony.

"Please, do not talk like this. We all know how brave you are; you will manage to live, Hemayal. You always do." Mehmal stated forcefully and Hemayal forced a low chuckle, a throaty sound at the base of her neck as the parched lips wounded a little more.

"Only because Dadu was always there with me. Now he is not, Mehmal, and it makes all the difference in the world." Hemayal said, memories of so many moments flashed before her eyes when the wall of her Dadu had protected her from the harshness of the worlds; when his gentleness had made her crawl out of despair.

"Anyways, why did you come?" Hemayal attempted to change the topic, diverting it in some other direction because this one was too painful and she knew she would not be able to handle anymore.

"Allah, I almost forgot. I came to call you." Mehmal said, slapping her forehead slightly as she cursed her memory and after a long time, Hemayal felt a little at ease.

"To where?" Hemayal squinted her eyes a little as she asked.

"Downstairs." Mehmal hesitated for a moment, weighing her options in her mind while all the way staring at Hemayal with an unsure gaze.

"Hami, people have come downstairs. You know, for offering condolences." Mehmal began and Hemayal nodded her head, in understanding and confusion at the same time.

"I know, what is the big deal in it?" Hemayal asked, all the shades of confused.

"Hami, please do not react like last time." Mehmal urged, almost begging and Hemayal's eyes narrowed a little more.

"Who came, Mehmal?" Hemayal asked but Mehmal had remained silent for a little more time than usual.

"Mehmal, who is downstairs right now?" Hemayal asked again, this time forcefully, voice becoming stern.

"Ibrahim."

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Hello, people.

A brand new sad chapter. What do you think? What does future hold for them?

Do vote!

Till next time,
Salam!