"Didi? Didi?" Chanchal hissed as she jostled Faajal to awaken her. Faajal thwarted her endeavour and kept slipping into the haze of slumber until the younger pinched her forearm. Faajal shot up, hissing and thrust a death glare at the short figure gulping before her. "What is it?" 

"Yusuf bhaiya has called." 

Faajal sucked in a gasp. Others could have awoken hadn't she gagged her breath by her hand. "When?"

"Now, he says, it's urgent." mumbled Chanchal, slanting forward. 

Faajal peeled the blanket on her legs and hurried to the living room. The telephone stood on a stool beside the sofa, its earpiece detached from its body. Her eyes scanned her sightline to check any other presence and tip-toed towards the telephone. 

"Hello," she conjured a whisper on the mouthpiece, still peeking around. 

"Oye, hello. Why do you delay so much?"

"Will you tell me the real thing, please?"

"Shall we go to devour some rasgulla tomorrow?" 

"Why?" Faajal groaned, recalling the time they had been caught.

"My birthday," he squealed, likely in claim of a cheerful reaction. Then, it blew her mind. How could she forget 13th of July! His mood would darken if her oblivion struck his mind. "Yeah, but, isn't it risky?"

"Your baba plays cards longer now. We'll just gobble 2 or 3 and sneak out!" His excitement urged her not to protest and extinguish his spirit for this special day. But, countable threats stalled their chances and she couldn't resist the fright of Ravinder's attention. Nevertheless, she managed to mutter. "Okay,"

Faajal slid back into her bed, unnerved by the risk they would be taking. "What did he say, didi?"

"Tomorrow is his birthday. But I don't have anything to gift him." she aired an awful sigh, tucking her arms beneath her head. "Gift him a shayari." Chanchal spoke in rapid simplicity.

"That's a gift?" Faajal grimaced at the younger, perceiving the futility of such things to him. 

"Gifts don't only indicate physical things. It can be a few verses to delight anyone."

Faajal pondered about her suggestion, calculating the value of the only thing she owned, literary talent. Introduced by her mother, she attained a knack for rendering Urdu Shayari.  But, this distinct mastery proved worth to only numerable. Others disregarded it of no use and time. It didn't facilitate any flourishment in pragmatic life they remarked; one of them was her father dearest. Now that she considered her aptitude, it might not be a competent present but a token of the dense companionship they treasured.  

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Next day,

Faajal hastened to the hall room with her diary and yanked open the door. Yusuf rocked his legs back and forth, arching his brows at her. "Sorry, baba made me late." She walked to him and sat beside. The aroma of molten sugar laced with the subtle scent of cardamon swirled from a box before them. Rasgulla was already here? "You brought it here? Weren't we supposed to go-"

"That would jangle things. So, I brought here."

"Happy birthday, Yusuf." She smiled at him. His eyes beamed as his laughter rang in her eardrums. "Thank you, my dearest friend."

Did he pay an extra edge to the last word? She contemplated. She could sense her cheeks flushed in pink. A smirk twisted his mouth. He shot her a wink at her flustered profile. She didn't retort, unlike her general response.

"So, what have you brought for me?" Yusuf extended his palm towards Faajal who fumbled for an adequate answer. How could she tell him that she only afforded a meagre present in comparison to his fancy gifts? She possessed little of value and so did her gift. "Shayari," her mumble escaped her lips as shame gnawed her inwards. An inexplicable expression flitted across his face as she shifted her gaze downward.

"That's amazing! Wonderful!" his lips were adorned with an aglow smile that dragged her out of the ailing mortification. She held her gaze steady at him once again, a flare of hope whisked away the murk from her mind. She returned his smile and clasped her diary. Yusuf leaned closer, his eagerness uneasing her nerves. She cleared her throat to undo the tangled chords writhing in her.

"Arz kya hai," Faajal noticed his mouth angle up.

"Zindagi hogi bas tamaam logo ki samahar,

Jo bas aake guzar jaate hain.

Dard baatne ke naam mai, unki jakham se dil bhar jaati hain.

Kucch ki khaasgi kimsat pe chukh jaata hain,

Isharat-e-dil unhee ke haath saamet ti hain."

Silence fell over them as she awaited his reaction. He appeared flustered, unpredictable to guess his impression. "How was it?" Faajal asked.

His lips folded his forehead creased. "Hmm, thik thak." He tried to mask his amusement in his voice to jeer with her-she knew. "Tu ab chhod de," she playfully slapped his arm and turned away.

"May Allah protect your future miah. How will he endure your whines?" his hands braced her shoulders while he curled his lips. "Huh? May Waheguru save your begum from your needlings. Needling me all day, I will surely recommend her not to marry you," Faajal wrapped her fingers around his wrists to steady herself from his constant shakes, a giggle widened her lips along with his.

Arreyy, my begum will be the queen of the world. I will treat her like a delicate gem. She will be an angel for sure, unlike you."

"And I will dedicate my shayaris to my miah. Every morning, every day. At least one lafz. Mohabbat ke lafz," her voice softened to a dreamy tone.

"Oi mohabbat ke poojari, jara janam din ka rasgulla bhi khale." Yusuf beckoned to her. She hissed in vexation before sighing and picking one sweet ball inside her mouth.

Faajal lost herself in the bliss filling her mind. A spark of joy shone within her. Her creation made someone smile, at least. Though her suspicions almost tainted the whole thing, her belief on herself pieced this gift together. Only could she muster this courage for pragmatic life, she would have been happier and her life brighter. But, such wasn't the case. Nevertheless, this bud of self-esteem was essential for the leap in her personality.

"Oye, your baba may come anytime. Shouldn't we check?" Yusuf jabbed her rib.

She winced while catching his point. "Let me check." She strode towards the main gateway when Yusuf dragged her aside. "Are you mad? Anyone can catch us if we peer like this." He pondered, glancing around the chamber. "That little gap above is perfect!" he marked the gap for ventilation. Faajal saw a drum and an old chair. She placed the drum and the old chair on it to reach the gap. The chair seemed to snap just by a tap anytime.

"I will look." Faajal demanded and clambered onto the unstable resort she prepared. With some struggles, she reached the gap and glimpsed through it. The aisle leaden to this room was deserted as always. She focused afar where barely audible fusses sounded from alone. "None, yet."

She put her foot down carefully. But, her dupatta came underneath her shoe. She was to move another step down the drum when her feet slipped and she lost her grip. She inhaled a gasp, ascertained of a blow on the ground and shuttered her eyes.

Suddenly, two soft arms cushioned her fall. She flicked her eyes open to notice Yusuf's concerned expression. Her translucent dupatta covered his head. Within the tint of red, his face bored into hers, sending chills down her spine. One if his hands was beneath her knees and one aligned with her shoulder blade. Only did she do was blink at him, immersing in the warmth of his touch.

He set her down and fixed her dupatta. "Be careful." he pulled her cheek and slightly booped her nose.

After chattering half an hour about the latest film of Bombay Talkies and its leads' poor performance, they picked up each other's usual routine and fled.

Evening soon morphed into night as the violet of the sky wore a deep blue brocade. The moon didn't appear, hidden behind an opulent mask tonight. Faajal rehearsed for a large-scale show she would be playing in this week. Her desperation to meet Yusuf troubled her focus, but the opportunity slipped through her hectic schedule. Plus, Waheguru decided to make Ravinder stick to his chair and inspect in front of her tonight when he fussed with some of his friends from the staff and poured most of his attention there.

While she watched her co-actors deliver their lines, she grasped a figure waving at her from the door afar. Yusuf shook his hands at her. She enlarged her eyes as a warning. He still waved. Ooof- that fool didn't understand her sign. She pointed her finger at Ravinder and jostled her head. His shoulders dropped as he drifted away.

When will this end? He must have any vital matter. By the time, the clock hit 10, the director was finally satisfied and dismissed them. Faajal scoured for Yusuf but found no trace. He must have left early. She moaned in dejection.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Reaching home, Faajal couldn't rest in bed. "Didi, won't you sleep?" Meher, her youngest sister called out.

"Or maybe Madam Celebrity doesn't have the mood right now." Saira, the eldest of the sisters scoffed. Saira raised troubles in Faajal's life after she received numerous compliments and flattery on her profile. Saira whirled her eyes, curving her mouth and pulled the blanket over. Chanchal swept her eyes from Faajal to the eldest. Faajal displayed indifference in front of others but a feeble crease on her browline and the tightening of her jaw couldn't deceive Chanchal's keen observance. She departed without a word and entered the dining room. Her parents' room was adjacent to this room. So, she assumed they were asleep before sneaking into the living room. Grandma would be snoring aloud in her room.

1ó ticked on the clock.

Faajal dialed his number on telephone. It rung and rung, testing her patience. A few seconds later, the call cut off. She dialled again. It was picked.

Faajal: Is Yusuf here?

Yusuf: I am, Faajal. But, I can't talk right now. We will tomorrow.

He cut the call, not letting her ask further. His tone seemed urgent and restless. Did he land himself in some trouble?

"Didi, sleep now. You are tired." Chanchal whispered from behind, startling her. Faajal followed her and retired on bed. Yet till traces of rest clouded over, worry revolved in her mind.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Next day,

Faajal rocked her feet, sitting on a bench in the backstage of a hall. Today, she completed her lunch earlier to meet Yusuf and question him about last night. Why isn't he here, yet? A clapper boy had told her to wait here for Yusuf, per Yusuf's instructions but he hadn't arrived still.

Suddenly, she heard footsteps behind. Yusuf emerged and sat beside her. His face lacked the usual shine. His eyes were deprived of the gleams playing in them.

"What happened?" Faajal patted his shoulder.

He sighed and bit his lips. "Last night, I am sorry for that."

Faajal pressed her finger on his lips, pausing his words. "You don't have to be. Is anything wrong?"

"I-" he drew a shaky breath before commencing. "I got a call before yours last night. I thought it was you. I picked up the call." His jaw clenched as if he is struggling to compose himself. "But, then I heard my ammi (Mother)."

Faajal widened her eyes. He hadn't carried any connection to his family in Peshawar since he left home.

"She asked me how was I, how I earned my bread, where I lived, everything. I told her the truth. I let her know her son is living a lowly life perhaps, but chasing his dreams to make it better. I told her about you, my only real companion. We talked for hours about our friendship and moments. Ammi thanks you for accompanying her 'Ullu ke patthe'. She thanks you for embracing this dreamer. She thanks you for everything, Faajal." The last note faded into a whisper as he squeezed her hand. Her joy knew no bounds, learning she accomplished something precious- Yusuf's happiness.

"Sometimes, I think if she blames me for leaving home for the sake of my dreams. If she thinks me selfish for valuing my aims over her. She has suffered a lot, Faajal. She lost 2 children before me. The firstborn was born dead. The other passed away 2 days after birth due to complications...She delivered me with great difficulty......She said I was a blue baby, in shortage of oxygen. I didn't even wail like a normal child. Just moaned. She fostered me with great care and I-" his words cracked as he crushed her hand in his. Tears stumbled on his eyeducts and streamed down.

"You are a great son, a great friend, Yusuf. You are the best thing ever happened to me." Faajal dabbed his tear-stricken cheeks and stroked along the curve of his chin. A moment of hush thickened their surroundings. "Tum ho dariya ke aise ek moti, jo lakho mai ek hain." She pulled aside the loose strands of hair on his temple meekly and hauled him in her embrace. She let his tears seep into her kameez, intending to offer comfort as he had done in the dullest of times. His clasp grew stronger around her back as he choked back tears. They lost track of how many seconds escaped until Yusuf lifted himself and wiped his cheeks.

"I can't bear your agony, my rare pearl." She cupped his face in her palms. His flesh felt delicate as a rose petal. Even the slightest touches could ignite a fiery pink ball on his impeccable complexion.

Such qualities belonged to numbered creatures of Waheguru and he was, undoubtedly one of them. A ball of sunshine with a heart of gold. 

A/N: Guys, my apologies for the delay. I had everything prepared but the internet was gone in my country for almost a week. By the way, how is this banner I created?