Arshad wearily made his way home, the day's challenges clinging to him like a heavy cloak. It had been a demanding day, with Rayyan bhaijaan's unexplainable mood casting a somber atmosphere. Rayyan had skipped lunch, relying solely on coffee, a trend that reluctantly swept through the entire office during what should have been a refreshing lunch break.

Upon entering, Arshad skipped the stairs, drawn by the gentle glow of the kitchen lights. Despite the late hour, he proceeded with cautious steps, anticipating solitude. However, the kitchen harbored a quiet presence. The petite silhouette of a girl came into view – Dua, his wife.

Approaching silently, he found her in front of the stove, tenderly reheating dinner. Caught in a quiet moment, he paused right behind her. Sensing his presence, she turned, discovering her husband standing in close proximity. Her face nestled against his chest, she inquired softly, "A-ap kab a-ae. Mai apke l-lie khana laga d-dun?" her words carrying a mix of surprise and warmth."

(w-when d-did -you c-come, s-should I s-set the d-dinner)

Dua, visibly nervous, stuttered in response to his infamous resting face. "How many times must I repeat myself?" he sternly declared. "How many times have I told you not to go out of your way for me? I've made it clear that I don't accept you as my wife."

Arshad, growing increasingly irritated with her actions since their forced marriage, continued, "I-i" she attempted to speak, but words failed her. Hurt by his harsh words, tears welled up in her eyes. Arshad gently lifted her chin with his finger, meeting her tearful gaze. Despite his frustration, he couldn't help but be struck by her vulnerability – her eyes glistening with unshed tears, lips trembling.

A tear escaped from her eyes, tracing a delicate path down her chin. Unconsciously, he wiped away the tear, locking eyes with her once again. In an authoritative tone, he asserted, "Dua, just because we're married doesn't mean you have to work for me or assume that I'll ever consider you my wife. Our marriage was a result of your parents' insistence, and you're well aware of that." Turning to leave, he added, "Janti hun lkin muhabbat karti hun apse, islie apke lie jagti hun. Apki biwi hun bhale ap mane ya nhi. Hamara nikkah jis bhi hal mai hua ho hainto nikkah hi na."

Dua's broken voice halted him in his tracks. "Janti hun lkin muhabbat karti hun apse" she whispered, expressing the depth of her feelings amidst the complexities of their union.

(I know, I love you that's why I dont sleep till you get back home, Im your wife, even if you deny.  No matter in which situation our nikkah happened, we are still married)

Dua, tears streaming down her face, moved away from him after completing her sentence, her sobs echoing through the kitchen. He watched her retreating figure, heading towards the stairs and disappearing into her room. Placing a hand over his trembling heart, pounding loudly at the sight of her pain, he couldn't deny the effect she had on him, though he refused to show it. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he followed suit, making his way to his room in search of some much-needed rest.

Meanwhile, in her room, Dua cried into her pillow, the weight of his words settling heavily on her fragile heart. Each attempt to be the perfect wife felt like a futile facade for him. She knew he harbored trust issues, a consequence of her mother's actions, yet it wasn't her fault. The events of their nikkah day were far from what she had envisioned.

The pain etched across her face mirrored the turmoil in her heart. Despite her best efforts, she found herself caught in the crossfire of past wounds and misunderstandings. The tears on her pillow bore witness to the silent battles fought within the confines of her own emotions.

Dua had always maintained a cautious distance from her cousins, a habit ingrained by her mother's strict insistence. However, her heart had silently harbored love for Arshad, long before the realization of their nikkah.

As Dua lay reflecting on her life, echoes of her dadi's wise words reverberated in her mind. She recalled her dadi saying, 'Mard zaat bhot ajeeb hoti hain. Yeh piyar to kartin hain lkin inhen piyar ka izhar karna nhi ata. Tabhi to hamesha aurat hi hai jise admi k jazbaat ko samajhna parta h.. Dua beta, jo bhi hota hai, Allah ache k lie karta hai. Apka nikkah Arshad k sath Allah ne likha tha, ab apko isko poore dil se qubool karna chahiye, or Arshad ko bhi karna chahiye.'

Her grandmother's words carried a profound truth about the complexities of men, love, and the challenges of expressing emotions. Dua found solace in those words, reminding herself that whatever transpired was Allah's plan for the greater good. The acceptance of her nikkah with Arshad became a poignant reminder of destiny, encouraging her to embrace it wholeheartedly, and hoping that Arshad would do the same.

(men are wierd, they do love but can't confess. They don't know how to. That's why it's always women who understands their emotion. Dua child, whatever happens, Allah has his will in it. Your nikkah was written with Arshad by Allah, you'll have to accept it with your heart. and make arshad agree on it too)

A tearful Dua gazed at her grandmother, attempting to fathom if the reference to "ajeeb" pertained to Arshad. She questioned, "To kya dadi, mujhe bhi Arshad ko samajhna hoga?" Her grandmother tenderly placed her hand on Dua's head, offering reassurance, "G bache, abse apko bhi apke shohar k jazbaat ko samajhna hoga. Or Dua, mushkilat har kaam mai hoti hain, lkin apko haar nahi manni. Ek din, Insha'Allah, sab sahi hojaega."

A serene smile played on her face as she remembered her grandmother's wisdom. With those comforting thoughts, Dua closed her eyes, embracing sleep with a smile. "Har andhere k bad ujala zaroor hota h," echoed in her mind, reminding her that after every darkness, there is indeed light.

( So granny, do I also have understand arshad)

( yes my child, you will have to understand your husband's emotion. And we have problem at every point of life, you just don't quit)
-------

Rayyan's mind and heart were in disarray, a tumultuous blend of anger and an even deeper, more profound hurt. Enduring this emotional turmoil for three long years, he questioned how much longer he could bear the weight of unspoken feelings. The strain on his emotions was not only affecting him but also making it increasingly difficult for both him and the one causing this silent suffering.

In his room, the pursuit of sleep proved elusive. Sighing in frustration, he rose from his bed, settled onto the mattress, and retrieved a pack of cigarettes from his side drawer. Moving towards the charpai on the rooftop above, he kindled the toxic stick, the smoke becoming a silent companion to his contemplations. Each puff seemed to release a fraction of the pent-up emotions as he exhaled into the stillness of the night, shimmering with both beauty and emotional complexity.

As he stared into the luminous night, a sudden startle gripped him. There, seated on the chair in front of him, was none other than his innocent-as-hell sister, Hadia. Caught off guard by her presence, Rayyan couldn't help but be taken aback. Her gaze, intense and curious, locked onto him. In the quiet of the moment, she asked with genuine concern, "Ap itne udaas q hain?"

(Why are you so sad?)

Hadia inquired, concern etched on her innocent face, and Rayyan responded with a heavy sigh, shaking his head. Deciding to shield his struggles from her eyes, he tossed the cigarette away, symbolically discarding the evidence. Rising, he leaned against the railing, casting his gaze upon the shimmering cityscape. The tranquility of the night momentarily embraced them both.

However, their serene moment shattered abruptly as the door swung open, as if kicked, revealing Maha's entrance. Her eyes widened, mouth agape, as she took in the sight of Rayyan, who, consumed by anger, chose silence and turned away. Maha stood there, momentarily stunned by the stark disregard, then shifted her attention to Hadia, who met her gaze with sleep-deprived eyes.

Breaking the tense silence, Maha spoke, "Hadia, jaa sooja, hum kal khelenge," addressing Hadia with a tone befitting her young age. Hadia nodded in agreement, her weariness evident, as she descended the stairs, leaving the troubled atmosphere lingering behind on the upper floor.

(hadia, go to sleep, we will play tomorrow) 

Maha, observing his back, approached and positioned herself beside him, mirroring his stance against the railings. With genuine concern in her eyes, she asked, "Apko kya hua hai, bhaijaan?" In response, instead of words, he seized her hand, drawing her towards him, and gently pressed her against the railings before him. She found herself beneath his gaze, eyes closed, hands instinctively resting on his chest. A light chuckle escaped him, and he spoke in a low, husky voice, sending shivers down her spine, "Kon hai bhai, tumhara Maha." Smirking at the evident effect he had on her, he placed his hands on her waist, drawing her even closer.

(what happened to you brother dearest)
(Who is your brother maha?)

With their chests touching, foreheads and lips mere inches apart, they breathed in each other's presence. He murmured, "Hmm Maha, kon hai bhai tumhara. Mai?? Bhool gai mai kon hun hmm," their words exchanged in hushed whispers. She opened her eyes, meeting his gaze, and responded, "Mai achi tarha janti hun ap kya keh rahe hain. Wo mera bachpana tha, jab hum ne apse kaha tha ke ap mere bhai nahi!" The air around them thickened with unspoken emotions, memories of a childhood declaration echoing in the charged atmosphere.

(hmm maha, who is your brother, did you forget who am I)
(I know what you are saying, it was my childhood ness when I said you aren'tmy brother!!)

They locked eyes, a silent exchange unfolding between them. Rayyan's heart raced, caught in a moment charged with unspoken tension. Despite being aware that Maha was just a child, her past declaration lingered, a constant reminder of the expectations surrounding their relationship. Since her birth, the notion that she would be his wife had been ingrained.

However, Maha perceived Rayyan's demeanor differently, interpreting his signals as mere teasing. In an unexpected turn, she burst into laughter, crouching down while clutching her stomach. Rayyan, jolted back to reality, watched her laughter ripple through the charged atmosphere. The contrast between the seriousness of his thoughts and the innocence of her laughter added a layer of complexity to the dynamics between them.

Something gnawed at him due to her laughter, but he managed to maintain composure, offering a smile as he observed her. "Ap acha act karte hain abhi bhi, bhaijaan, lekin ap sojaen, bhot raat ho rahi hai," Maha suggested, wiping away her tears. She glanced at him, and a genuine smile played on her lips. In return, Rayyan mustered a small smile.

As she began to walk towards the doors, he couldn't hold back his curiosity. "Or agar ye act na hota to?" Rayyan inquired, his eyes revealing a hint of hope. However, he was all too familiar with the pattern of her responses, each one seemingly designed to crush the budding hope in his eyes.

( you act so good bhai, but now go to sleep. Its night)

(and what is it wasn't an act)
________