Chapter 52

Ahmed swung his head for Salaam and then clasped his palms in prayer. After a long conversation with his God, he tilted his head towards Zubair and let out a beautiful smile—a smile that held courage, pride, reassurance, and affection.

Zubair felt that the boy standing before him was no longer the weak Ahmed, enslaved by his desires. The person in front of him was no longer a boy but had become a man. A man who couldn't be defeated—one who could only surrender to his Creator.

Ahmed strode toward Zubair and extended his hands for an embrace. They stood there, holding each other for a long time—both of them finding what they had longed for and missed their entire lives: a father-and-son bond.

At last, Ahmed raised his head.
"Zubair, I won. I won against that thirst... that agony... against the fear of losing myself and surrendering to torment forever. I am back... back from that dreadful, dark, and suffocating night. That terrifying nightmare will never haunt me again because I found the cure. And my cure is my Owner, my Lord, my God... and you, Zubair."

He paused and gazed at Zubair’s face, webbed with surprise.
"I have learned how to keep my urges in control, Zubair," he continued.

Three Hours Earlier:

The lecture was deeply inspiring. The listeners were entirely immersed. A few had tears welling up in their eyes, yet they remained transfixed, unwilling to break their trance for even a second.

But Ahmed’s mind was not in his control. He was unable to hide his yearning. He tried to suppress his impulses, but the surge was too strong. And then, it took over him. He was no longer in his senses. Like a robot programmed to follow a command, he headed toward his target. Oblivious to his surroundings, he joined the crowd exiting the hall.

The guards could have stopped him, but due to the rush at the exit gate, he slipped through unnoticed. Soon, he reached the place where that man usually met him, the one who handed him the venom that slowly crept into his veins through a cigarette.

The area was barren, and the building stood empty. It didn’t take long for Ahmed to realize that the man must have fled, fearing that Ahmed would expose him. Led by his desire, Ahmed’s mind started working fast, and he quickly memorized the man’s mobile number.

He stopped an old man who was passing by.
"Uncle, do you have a phone? Actually, I’m lost, and I left my mobile at home," Ahmed lied, blinded by his unlawful craving.

The old man nodded and handed him the device. Ahmed quickly typed the number and pressed the call button. The call rang, but no one answered. He understood that maybe the man had discarded his number too, fearing being caught. Ahmed was about to disconnect when the call was finally answered.

"Hello, brother. It’s me, Ahmed. Can you come and meet me? Actually, I’m lost and need you to pick me up. I came here to meet you but don’t know the way back," Ahmed explained, hoping the man would understand where he was.

"Are you joking? Do you think I’m an idiot? You must have the police or that Salaar Malik waiting to catch me," the man on the other end retorted skeptically.

Ahmed mustered some sanity and strode a bit farther.
"Listen, if I intended to betray you, you would have been in prison a long time ago. I just need that thing to satisfy the craving that’s killing me. Please come soon," he pleaded, covering his mouth as he spoke discreetly.

There was silence on the other end. Ahmed feared that the man had hung up, but he was still online. After a brief pause, the man finally responded.
"Okay, I’m coming."

Ahmed returned the phone to the old man.
"Thank you, Uncle. He’s coming," he said with gratitude.

"Is everything alright? You look pale... I can drop you off if you want," the old man offered, concerned.

"No, Uncle, don’t bother. My brother is coming," Ahmed politely declined.

The old man shook his hand and left. Ahmed squatted on a broken stair, his senses on high alert, his eyes fixed on the road, waiting for that merchant of death. He didn’t wait for long. Soon, his vision captured a familiar figure.

And the next moment, he was standing in front of him.

Awais scanned his surroundings, making sure Ahmed was alone. His sharp eyes held suspicion, but Ahmed was too blinded by his addiction to notice.

"Hmm... so you need that, huh?" Wasim smirked. "Good, good, good. I knew it. It’s not easy to get away from the urge of my drug... my poison. Hahaha." There was something dark in his eyes, something evil.

But Ahmed was too desperate to care. He only wanted to satisfy the thirst that was piercing his soul.

"So you need my poison... fine, I’ll give it to you, let you quench that burning thirst, that killing thirst. But..."

Ahmed looked at him in anticipation.

"But first, bring your sister. Tell her to beg me to give it to you. Hahaha. That gangster sister of yours… tell her to fall at my feet and apologize for slapping me and taking away the girl I loved the most."

Wasim finally spat the venom he had been harboring—the true reason he had dragged Ahmed into this nightmare, wrecking his life.

"What do you mean?" Ahmed asked, stunned, gazing at him with skeptical eyes.

"You still don’t understand? You are in this mess, living this pathetic life, because of your sister. I used you to take my revenge on her."

"And realization dawned on him as the image of flesh flashed across Ahmed's mind."
The Day After Yasmeen Dadi's Funeral:

The next day, when Zarmeena was abandoned, Ahmed had gone to the university to meet her. He was searching for her, scanning the area. Even Sajid and Sajida were nowhere to be seen when he collided with a stranger.

"Salaam. You look familiar. Are you Zarmeena's brother?"

Wasim asked him. Ahmed nodded in compliance.

"Have you seen my sister? Actually, I’m looking for her, but she isn’t anywhere," Ahmed exclaimed.

"Oh, I saw her in the new library. Do you know where it is?"

Ahmed shook his head in denial.

"Okay, let me take you there."

Ahmed accompanied him. As they reached a quiet and remote part of the campus, Ahmed realized there was no building—only wild plants.

Suddenly, he felt suffocation and an unbearable thirst. Wasim took out his bottle.

"Ahmed, drink some water. The fumes of paint sometimes hit your throat."

Ahmed took the bottle from him and drank. The next moment, he was unconscious.

When he opened his eyes, he was on his bed at home. His mother was by his side.

"What happened to me?" he asked Zareena.

"You fainted at college. A boy brought you home. He also left his number, saying you can contact him if you need anything," Zareena said and left to attend the guests offering condolences for Dadi's funeral.

"Fainted in college? But I was…"

He quickly took the paper from the side table but felt his head spinning. A strange dizziness took over, and he drifted back into sleep.

That night, he woke up with a burning throat. He grabbed the glass of water from the table and drank it all at once. But the thirst remained. He spent the whole night awake.

The next day, he went to the university—not for Zarmeena, but for Wasim.

Wasim was outside the university gate. As soon as Ahmed arrived, he stepped forward and grabbed his hand. Ahmed followed him like a feather blown by the wind.

"What did you do to me? What was in that bottle?" Ahmed asked anxiously.

"Ahmed, it was drugs… Once you use them, you can never escape. This thirst will neither let you live nor let you die. Now, you are its slave forever," Wasim said, his face twisted into an evil smirk.

He pulled out a cigarette and began inhaling that dreadful venom. Ahmed gazed at him, his thirst clouding his sanity and crippling his ability to think straight. And then, without a second thought, he took it from Wasim's hand, surrendering himself to that silent killer.

Flashback ends:

He always thought that he was a victim of a drug mafia gang, but today, at this moment, he realized that he was actually just a pawn in that maniac’s revenge story—a vengeance he wanted to take on my sister. And then I remembered what you once said…

*"When I lost my family in an earthquake, I lost hope. Their dead faces never left my mind. I had nothing left to live for, and to give peace to my bleeding mind and soul, I drowned myself in the enchanting world of drugs. And one day, after taking drugs, I fell, dazed, onto the road, and a dog peed on my face. That day, I realized that my life was worth nothing more than a dog’s urine. But I also realized something else—that a person’s dignity is greater than his pain. That day, I sought help from Sir Salaar’s grandfather, and there, I met Sir Salaar—my angel. He gave me a reason to stand up, to smile, and to face life again.

Ahmed, don’t make your life so worthless. It is a gift from God, granted only once."*

Yet he carried on berating my sister, and in that moment, I felt as if a dog had peed on my face too—no, even worse than that. The realization was more tormenting than my addiction: the sister who had always sacrificed her well-being to make me a better human being, a respected member of society—I had staked her honor for the devil standing in front of me.

The thirst that had been driving me crazy vanished. I remembered only one thing—that because of my own wrong choices, that rascal had gained the courage to insult my sister, my family, and myself. A powerful impulse surged through me—to break his mouth. And in the very next moment, that thought became reality. That bastard was on the ground, his mouth bleeding.

Zubair listened to every word he uttered and couldn’t believe that sometimes, prayers are answered in ways one never expects. His God had saved him from being humiliated in front of his angel.

"Zubair, I want my bag. I will study. I will become a doctor, as my Dadi Amma and Zaro dreamed for me."

Zubair nodded, his eyes sparkling with hope.

"I want to see that pride they had in me again in their eyes." Ahmed’s voice was firm, his determination unshakable.

At that moment, I wished that this boy—who had defeated his own weaknesses today—was no less than Alexander the Great, for he had won a battle far greater than conquering half the world.