دنیا کی وہی رونق، دل کی وہی تنہائی

Monday - 8:19pm

Ibrahim was late.

Standing outside the gates of her house, Hemayal cast a glance at the watch bound to her wrist, impatience laced with tension knotting her stomach.

Dressed to simplicity in her high-waisted black jeans paired with a mustard sweater tucked in, white sneakers adorning her feet, Hemayal Khakwani radiated ease and calm tonight.

Her insides were anything but.

Suddenly, a white Mercedez pulled up right in front of her, effectively pulling her out of her reverie just as a man hurriedly exited it. Memories after memories from last night synapsed her neurons at the sight of him - all intense; all consuming. 

"You're late." Hemayal remarked, trying to postpone the confrontation, as her reproaching gaze moved between her watch and the man - the man who, like always, was making her mouth dry with his impeccable dressing and cologne.

"I am so sorry. Work's always hard on Mondays." Ibrahim cast her an apologetic glance as he opened the door for her and Hemayal, once again, found herself in the confines of his posh travel.

How does she always end up here?

"And that's why I insisted on coming myself. You men cannot be trusted when it comes to timing." Hemayal said, buckling her seatbelt just as the car sped effectively forward.

"I really am sorry but please don't fight me on this. Your safety is my concern and I don't like the thought of you driving alone, totally unsafe when there are other options availabe." Ibrahim said, making a turn and effectively taking her away from the safety of her home.

"I drove alone before and was perfectly fine and safe." Hemayal remarked, voice defensive. 

"I know you can, Hemayal. And I also know that if faced with, you can defend yourself perfectly well. I just don't like taking a risk when the thing at risk is your safety." Ibrahim said, voice the same shade of serious she just didn't like in him. 

What is one suppoed to respond to that?

His protectiveness always touched her, it was a natural reaction towards a man whom she'd spent half of her life loving. But it also ticked her; a part of her brain insistent that he was just manipulating her into giving in and God, did she fear doing that.

She had let this man walk all over her once, she wasn't going to allow him to do it again.

"Can we please talk about what happened last night?" Ibrahim said, finally addressing the subject that tightened her stomach into knots; made her heart flutter in the confines of her ribcage.

"I rather not." Hemayal said, trying to maintain the strength of her voice but she could physically feel it crumbling.

Last night was no ordinary night - both of them knew it. It was a night Hemayal Khakwani had finally given an inch to the man whom she was at war with and now only a single thought seemed to cross the threshold of their mind - if there can be an inch, there can be everything. 

"Hemayal, please. It's important for me to know what drove you to the edge. Is it something my mother said, or Safaa or maybe me? Did I do something?" Ibrahim said, voice torn and memories of her figure gathered in his arms made her stomach turn again.

"No, it's not about any of you.." She silently replied, eyes fixed far ahead at the road.

"Then why did you completely fell apart just a few hours after meeting them?" That was a concept Ibrahim just couldn't gather his mind around.

"It was a lot of things together, not just one. A lot of buried emotions, pent up anger, frustration, my inner dilemma - the breakdown was inevitable." Hemayal was vague; Ibrahim wanted concrete.

"Give me an inch, Hemayal. I'm losing it here." His voice held frustration but deep down, she could feel his concern there and a wave of memories again washed over her.

Will these memories ever escape her?

"It all started with the Rukhsati talk." Hemayal knew he wouldn't give up until he knew all her secrets and a part of her whispered that this secret, he deserved to know. "My family asking me to finally think about the Rukhsati shook me somehow. Here I was planning my revenge, thinking about ways to destroy you and my family had no freaking clue of what was going on. I know it was my decision to not tell them but I felt so lonely at that time, so alone."

They say the first step is hard, they say it right. After the initial leap of trust, there was no dam to the river of her emotions - a good instinct or bad; she'd ponder upon that later. 

"And then after you agreed to talk to your father, you went back on your word and didn't. I felt so angry, disappointed but I tried to stay above the waters. But your mother came and delivered the final blow. She just came and reminded me of everything I was trying to forget and I couldn't control myself." Hemayal finished with a sigh and she could feel the tension in his muscles, physically feel the worry he radiated.

"Nothing I say could make up for your pain but I'm sorry, Hemayal, I really am." He said, his arm reaching forward to grab her fisted hands in his own, his warm and large against hers.

Closing her eyes at the warmth that filled her insides at the simple touch, Hemayal gulped heavily as a memory of the same hand holding hers against his chest fluttered her heart. 

"It had to happen one day but the thought that you were the witness of it all is the only thing ruining my joy right now." Hemayal said as she slowly pulled her hand out of his, voice turning hard and defensive.

"I don't ever want to see you like that again. The sight of you last night..." he shuddered, voice pained. "I'll take all of your anger and fire for the rest of my life if it promises even a tiny hope that you won't breakdown like that again."

"I won't." Hemayal promised, more to herself than to this man, as her heart skipped a beat at his proclamation. 

Even if she did breakdown again in the near future, she'd make sure it didn't happen in front of this particular man.

The sight of a restaurant entering in her line of vision halted their conversation for a few precious seconds where she could restore her mind which was always a haze when this particular man was anywhere around her. 

"I did talk to my father." He said after they had occupied their respective seats around the table, order placed, and Hemayal's head snapped towards him.

"You did?" She asked, voice surprised. 

"Yeah. I went to see him right after I received your call about Ammu." He said slowly, teeth biting them thin lips in a manner which screamed anxiety. 

What was this man upto?

"What did he say?" She probed, genuinely wanting to know what the father of a man could possibly say after his son confesses of terrible crimes. 

"Nothing, not even a word other than a solemn nod. And I hadn't heard from him until this morning," Ibrahim said, his voice as shocked as Hemayal's features. "Ammu must have told him about your conversation last night."

The last part he mumbled to himself and it was the part which caused her forehead to crease with lines of confusion.

"What about it?" She demanded to know.

"When I talked to my father, I didn't mention your insistence to get divorce. You might have said something on the lines to my mother." Ibrahim said and Hemayal's confusion only grew.

"I didn't exactly but what does it have to do with anything?" She expressed, the lines across her lips hardening. 

"Everything." Ibrahim mumbled and alarms went off in her at that three-syllable word - something was not right.

"What do you mean?" She asked, bracing herself for the worst.

"Don't you ever think that the people who made us get married would have thought of something to ironclad the agreement? Something to make sure we never get out of this marriage, even if we want to?" Ibrahim's voice held mystery and damn, she didn't do them well.

"Yeah, I asked Dadu about it once but he didn't say anything." Hemayal's voice was faraway, confusion marring those beautiful features of her.

"There's a good reason as to why he stayed silent." Ibrahim whispered and every part of her came to a screeching halt.

"What did they do?" She sighed, mentally preparing herself for the blow.

"They made both parties sign an agreement. Something that says that whichever party demands the termination of the marriage, half of the property of that party will be transferred to the other." Ibrahim sighed before answering, head shaking, voice low.

"The hell." A shocked gasp left her lips, eyes widening in utter disbelief. 

"Exactly, the hell." Ibrahim too sighed, a heavy breath filled with disappointment - his reasons she didn't know; she had enough of her own.

"So, if you demand divorce from me, it'll be at the cost of half your family's property. And the same goes for me." Ibrahim further elaborated and a small curse left Hemayal's lips.

"You already knew that, didn't you?" She fixed her eyes on him, every shade of distrust painting them.

"No, I didn't. I just found out about it in the morning, when Abbu found out about our intention to not continue this marriage." Ibrahim said and Hemayal shook her head slowly, not willing to believe that life could be this cruel and difficult. 

"That's why my father was so bent on me continuing the marriage? And even Dadu? He could have ended this marriage after a few years but he told me one day that he can't, even if he wanted to." Hemayal's voice seemed to arise from an abyss, trying to hold onto small snippets of hope to stay above the waters.

"Yes." He sighed, a troubled one at that.

"Goddamnit, does it all come down to freaking money?" Hemayal still couldn't believe that - refused to.

Why did everything have to be so complicated?

"I'm afraid so, yes. And now, even if we want to get divorced, I don't think our families will let us." Ibrahim said and Hemayal sighed at the hurtful truth behind his words. 

"Is there no way out? I mean, the agreement, it's like a decade ago. Surely there could be some solution." She was trying to hold on to every piece of hope she could find at the moment - sadly, there were only a few.

"I'm not a lawyer, I can't say. But as far as I know, it was a binding agreement. Even if there's some way out, it will be difficult." Ibrahim said and Hemayal sighed.

"There's always a way out." She said, voice hard, but the tone in her voice that carried disbelief and pessimism could be heard from a mile away.

"And if there isn't? What happens then?" Ibrahim asked, carefully eyeing the woman who hadn't even touched the food placed in front of her.

"Then I give you my money. Baba might not agree, but Lala will. I give you half of what we own and be done with it." She said, turning her head to look directly in his eyes, but doubt still lingered.

Lala was a married man with a child, why would he give up all of his money just because Hemayal wanted divorce, Hemayal thought. He might love her to pieces but he had other responsibilities too.

"Are you that bent on getting rid of me?" Ibrahim's voice pulled her out of the disturbing thoughts that stemmed mainly from her trust issues and caused her to focus on something else - him, maybe.

"You have no idea." She scoffed, eyes rolling the same way he seemed to like so much.

"But I don't think only yours and your brother's money will make up for half. The contract says half of Khakwani's property, not just Shahriyar Khakwani's property." Ibrahim said further, choosing to ignore her previous sentence, and Hemayal dropped her head in defeat. 

"You mean...you mean Chacho will have to give up his money too?" She almost whispered in disbelief. 

"By the looks of it, yes." He said, lips pressed tightly. 

"Oh God, those damn bastards." Hemayal shook her head, anger radiating from her every inch.

"Those damn bastards alright." Ibrahim sighed but the calmness with which he uttered those words ticked her already firing nerves.

"You must be so happy right now, won't you? You got what you wanted. The fact that I'll have to go against my whole family to get this divorce must make you very happy." Hemayal said, her anger needing an outlet and unfortunately, he was the only one available lately.

"I'll admit that letting go of you is something I don't even consider doing but this agreement doesn't make me happy, Hemayal." He said and her name rolling off his tongue made every other sound in the room dull.

"Oh, it doesn't?" She tried, tried, to maintain the cool in her voice.

"No, it does not. If I could have it my way, I would rather you stay with me because you want to, not because some stupid agreement is keeping you bound." He said, resolve sprawled all over his tone and Hemayal couldn't look away from the man for a whole damn minute.

Why was he making it so very difficult for her to hate him?

"But we don't always have it our way, do we? Whatever the case, I'm still bound to you." Hemayal said, not willing to sacrifice her dignity for mere attraction towards this man, her voice reflexively hardening. 

"You're not bound to me, lady. You're my wife. And it's a fact you should accept for your own good." He said, leaning back in his seat with a frown adorning his features.

"No, it isn't. The fact is that I hate you and don't want to spend my life with a man like you." She bent forward as she spoke, eyes narrowing as she regarded his casual stance with distaste. 

"That's not a fact, baby, that's your emotions speaking." Ibrahim too leaned forward, their heads mere inches apart in the middle of the restaurant and the same grin came to rest on his face that she seemed to hate very much. 

And after that, she didn't hear a word he said, not even caring that the whole restaurant seemed to stare as a man hurriedly rushed after a woman who radiated fire while exiting through the door.

Hemayal Khakwani was royally done with his stupid grins.

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11:03pm

"Assalam-u-Alikum, Baba." Hemayal greeted as she entered the living room and found her father occupying his usual seat hy the fire.

"Waalikum Assalam, child. How was the dinner?" He asked, turning his head to look up at his daughter who looked every shade of tired.

"Fine." She replied, caught between the dilemma of confronting her father of the information she had just learned today or tackling it some other day.

There was only so much confrontation the woman could bear in one day.

"How's Ibrahim?" Her father asked, voice casual and Hemayal shrugged her shoulders.

"Fine." She again replied, but eyes narrowing at the loss of focus at her father's par - he seemed to be entirely distracted by something else.

"Is something wrong? You look worried." Hemayal said as she took a seat beside him, warmth from the burning log instantly travelling up her spine.

"Yeah, I just got a call." Shahriyar Khakwani said, voice troubled. 

"From?" She asked.

"The police." He said and Hemayal felt her heart thud dangerously.

"What...what did they say?" She asked, hoping against hope that it was some good news.

"You know the man who you identified, the one whose sketch you helped draw?" Her father looked up at her, his eyes drew in confusion and disappointment. 

"Yeah...Anas Ali?" Hemayal mumbled, not being able to place an emotion at her father's state.

Why did he look so...lost?

"Yeah, he was murdered this morning." His father informed her and the world slowly shook under her feet.

"Murdered...wh...who killed him?" Her mouth was shaking, heart fluttering. 

"The police doesn't know but initial investigation says it was someone for whom he did the kidnapping. Someone tipped them, they said." He said and Hemayal felt sanity slowly slipping away.

And a few minutes later, a horrible, horrible, sinking feeling found home in her stomach as she realized that the only person she'd told about the man was Ibrahim himself.

Only he knew - only he gained.

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and this, my lovelies, is the start of an end!

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