This one suits Jahan at this chapter.

Considerate. This word that could be used to describe my husband. Whenever he acted on this word. It used to made my heart bloom with delight.

Now every considerate act of my husband only proved to be painful. The thought that I wasn't the only one that he did these things for was putting oil to flames.

Knowing the fact that Sara was dead. It should have relived me but it didn't. The knowledge of his betrayel changed me for worse. I couldn't even recognize my own self.

I wasn't able to respect a dead. The feeling of hatred for her disgusted me sometime. How could I curse a dead person? But my heart it didn't hear me. Even if not a word left my lip. My thoughts spoke volume. I wanted to desperately erase her existence.

Sitting at dinning table while he filled my plate, sliced the chicken into into perfect miniature pieces. It was a common occurrence that no one paid any mind to.

In the past these kind of common occurrence were special to me. Jahan never verbally confessed his love. These small gestures felt like the proof to feelings that he had. Even if there was no love. It soothed my heart that I was only one that evoke these gestures.

Now that believe was gone. They ridiculed me. I wanted to let go of it. These feelings were little by little destroying my peace. The content was gone.

I excused from dinner earlier then usual. Under the cold shower with it pouring on my each pore. It felt exhilarating and soothing.

Even through it was the March. The start of spring. The winter had remained in country longer then usual. The result, there was mostly chill in air especially at nights.

Putting on the bath robe. Barefooted, I Walked out of bathroom with my wet hairs trailing a pathway on marble floor.

For a movement, I stopped, seeing him standing there. Ignoring his presence, I strode to get clothes from cupboard.

"Abhi dhand ni Gaye. (The winter hasn't left.) You shouldn't walk barefoot."

I was pulled up from the floor in a single sweep. He set on bed, placing me me on his lap. He pulled the blank on me. He frowned as he checked my temperature by placing his hand on my cheeks.

"You took cold shower. Bimar hona hai. (Do you want to get sick?)" He pulled my hands to his mouth and started blowing warm air on them.

While one hand held my wrists. The other hand started to work the towel in my hairs. When he was satisfied, he pulled me in his arm whispering to not do something this careless again.

My body may have warmed with his warmth but my heart remained cold. I pulled myself out of his embrace to look at his face. My heart burned thinking that he did these things for her too.

"Jante ho k main sirf samjhota ho apke liye. Is leye ye sb karna band karde. (I know that I am only a compromise for you. So stop doing these things)"

He affectionately pulled some wet strands behind my ear. "You never been a compromise to me. Maine apko teen Saal pehle bhe dil se qabool kiya that aur aj be kiya hai. ( I have accepted you with my heart three years ago and even today.)

I desperately wanted to believe it. If it was true then Sara shouldn't have existed in our world. So I laughed bitterly conveying the little to no faith that I had on his words.

He sighed and tenderly stroked my cheek. The adoration remained there. "Muhabbat karte hai isleye gusse me hai. (You are angry because you do love.)

"Maine kab kaha ka main apse muhabbat karti ho. (When did I say that I love you.)"

My every intention was to hurt him. He should know what it feels like. His hand on my waist tightened as he further inquired with calm.

"Phir kis se karti hai? (Then who do you love?)"

I didn't get the impact that I wanted. Jahan shielded his hurt and pain with anger. There was not any anger or pain at my jab.

To make him feel what I felt. My lips voiced the most cruel word that not any lover who tell the one that she loves.

"Jante to Hain ap. Naam lo kiya ab. (You already know. Should I say the name.)"

Cruel. When I started being one. I didn't know. The lips that dripped sweetness now were spewing poison.

He remained still for a second looking at with unbeilieving eyes. The stiif expression remained there not even for a second. His lips curled in a smile. A fake smile that disguised hurt. This wasn't expected. It didn't soothe me. I wanted him to react with anger. Not this.

"Takleef Dena chah rahai mujhe to dete rahe. (You want to cause me affliction then keep causing it.)

He rested his head against my own whispering. "I know that I deserve this and much more."

My eyes didn't pour any tear but my heart cried with him that night. Was this love? Getting hurt and hurting the one that you love.

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The winds brushed past my hair, gliding on my cheeks. Peace. That was what I was here for. Standing before Ama and Baba. Who were lying side to side here too.

Their love was legendary. My Abba never married after Amma's death. I never met her but sometime I couldn't help but wonder what she had.

I wanted my husband to love me like my father loved my mother. I thought that Ibad could be that man. Hence the attraction.

But fate had it own plan. Allah has chosen Jahan as my partner in this life.

Looking at Abba's grave. I was reminded of my carefree and careless personality that I once had and the question that I used to ask him.

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"Abba you never tried to persuade grandpa."

The naive but still a bit mature me asked this question. My class fellows sometime mentioned about their grand parents. While I remained speechless, not able to say a word.

"We did. At start we even lived with them for some months."

"Then?" I couldn't help but ask. I knew the reason because neither of my grandparents accepted my parents Nikkah. It was simple because my mother was shia while my father was ahle sunnat.

Both families were very firm in their beliefs. My mother family cut all of their ties with my mother completely after her marriage but my father family still kept them.

"We remained there even through my parents were a bit harsh with Zuleha. Things got unbearable when they tried put dirt on her character."

"Ohhhh_____"

"We left afterwards. My father said that If I am to keep my relationship with this characterless woman. Then I shall not remain a part of his family."

I couldn't help but think. Just a simple difference in sect could lead people to make false accusation. The fact that we are all Muslim and believe in one Allah and prophet Muhammad (P.B.U.H). It became so easy to ignore just due to these sects.

"Then you never tried to contact them again?"

"I didn't but your mother did."

"Why?" At my question. He smiled like remembering something.

"I asked her the same."

"What did she say?" I was curious to know that. To know what my mother felt. I was always curious to know about her. Even through, I never met her but the fact that my father always tried to look for our similarities.

It made me curious to know. "Was I like her as he said?" Or It was just my father's imagination.

"She said Hammad. We have caused or parents pain. We can't give up on them. Maybe Allah will appreciate our gesture and provide us with his reward at hereafter."

"So she forgave them." He nodded his head.

"Just like that."

"She knew how to forgive. It was her best quality. She even forgive me when I believe in those accusations at first."

"Why did you? You loved Amma. Right?"

"People make mistakes especially in anger. That's why anger is Haram in our religion. It blinds us. It did the same to me."

"Abba, how could she forgive them even through they didn't ask for it?" It was the question that somehow irked me to end.

He sighed. "I didn't know at first but later I realized."

He patted my head as he looked at me with gentle smile.

"Forgiving release resentment. It makes you lighter. When you forgive someone. You became content with your own soul and your life. Beta, you may get respect from power but content is something that is very valuable and hard to achieve."

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The memory drifted through my mind. I could remember each and every word that he advised me. My father did great in handling both of the roles.

Looking at my Amma's grave. I couldn't help but praise this woman that I personally didn't knew. She was always placed in high regards by my father. The woman that sacrificed herself just so that I could be born. I knew that I would have loved her.

My father once told me that my mother made him promise to safe me if he had to choose when she was carrying me. The baby that she only had in her womb for some months.

Till to this date, I can't understand why she did that. She could have more kids in future. Why did she safe me? There was nothing wrong If she had made her life the first priority.

I wanted to be like her. I decided to forgive Jahan for what happened in past. It would be difficult but I would try to make my peace with it and move on.

If I was going to live with him. Why live in misery. If I could simple live in content.

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That night. I set on sofa looking at the clock waiting for Jahan to come home. Just an hour later, he came in carrying the briefcase tugging the tie knot.

I walked up to the bed and set on it before calling his name. "Jahan."

He looked at me with confused eyes, trying to gauge my intention. It was first time since that day that I willingly started a conversation without any taunt.

"I have decided to move on from what happened."

I pulled my gaze up from the ground. "Bs kuch sawal hai Jo akhari dafa poucho ge. (There are some questions that I would ask for one last time)"

He nodded his head. An silent indication for me to continue. The first question was difficult to ask but at same time mandatory.

"Did you love her?"

"No." A straight answer. There was no indication of a lie in those eyes. I believed him. Simply, because even through whatever happened between us. One thing was true that Jahan have never lied to me.

"Phir shadi qk? (Then why did you marry her?)"

He set beside with his hands in between his legs. We were so close yet so far.

"Guse me tha. (I was angry.) She loved me and you didn't."

He glanced at me from corner of his eyes as he continued further.

"Eik galat fehmi hogaye aur Maine souch samjhe begair ye Kar diya. (A misunderstanding happened and I did this without even thinking.)

"Aur apko uske Marne k bad main yad ai. (And you only remembered me after she died.) I added in holding on to the tears. It was painful to talk about this.

"Ni aisa ni hai. (No, It's not like that)" He hurriedly added. "Our marriage was annulled in nine months. Which was as soon as I could make it happen."

"Why didn't you come back then?" People may think that I was stupid to believe what he said but it was easy to just believe in him. Jahan's straight forwardness made him more credible.

He raked his hand through his hairs. "It was difficult to."

I couldn't understand his statement. What did he mean by that? Why did it look like that he have gone through something worse that I didn't even knew about.

I decided to not ask him further about this statement. I wasn't willing to get hurt again. If not knowing the past helped me to be in peace then I decided to not know it.

"Jahan."

He pulled his head from his lap and turned his head in my direction waiting for me to ask something. But I had no more questions.

"Mujhe se pehle se muhabbat na manhaye ga. Wo ni desakte ab main. (Don't ask me to love you like before. I can't give that to you now.) "

He tilted his head backward giving me a slight smile as he took hold of my right hand from my lap.

"Main apke muhabbat k liye eik faqeer ho Janna. Thora de ya zeyada bs qannat Kar loga. (I am a فقیر for your love. If you give me less or more. I still will be in content.)"

He stroked the back of my hands with his thumbs. I didn't expect this reply from someone who was very possessive.

Jahan has never cried before my eyes. I have never seen him upset or desolate. It felt like these emotions didn't exist for him. But his smile now held all of those. It felt like a small touch. A smile pressure and that smile will crumble. Pouring out everything that was kept inside.

He was like one those buildings which looked beautiful and indestructible from outside but had gone through destruction from inside.

I couldn't decide if I wanted to see him crumble to look into his core or wanted him to stand straight holding on to his name.

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it's taken in spirituality. Beggar could be the literal meaning but it didn't suit here. A person who has no care for world and materialism. A kind of person whose firm believe in Allah make it easy for him to live his complete life just for his love and appreciation.

: It is a state where your are happy and in content with given less or more without any complain.