Haveli. Living here, surrounded by so many people. It became easy to smile, to laugh and to be just happy. Chatting while eating dinner or lunch. These small things lifted my mood.

I decided to live in haveli. No one raised their voice against my decision. Mummy only asked Taya Ami to take care of me in this condition which she have been doing very nicely by giving me yahne at evening.

At every evening, With the bowl of yahne at table waiting to be finished. I would look at Taya ami with pout to not make me eat it anynore but she would only glare at me while Sana would just giggle at my expense. Sometimes Hassam joined her too and both of them laughed together.

Hassam and Sana both became ne my support these days. Hassam would get me anything that I wanted to eat most of the times. Sana never even minded. Sometimes it felt like that they both understood somethings even if they didn't verbally express it.

I was somehow very grateful for this support. Whenever was my checkup. Sana would be there to accompny me. It was no different this time.

According to my doctor, Everything was normal. Hearing the heartbeat of my son. It never felt new. It always felt unique and so beautiful. Like something that I couldn't ever get tired of.

Sitting in droving car. These months just felt like those houses which were passing as I moved forward. I was at the last months of my pregnancy. Then my son would be in this world with me. I was awaiting for the moment when I could hold him in my arms. Tuck him against my chest feel that incredible feeling. Sometime it felt like. I would close my eyes and then in next minute, he would be here, in my arms.

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Mummy was sitting with me in my room, showing me the clothes and things that she bought for the baby. We were laughing abd smiling. I don't what happened at the next moments that the tears started sliding down her cheeks.

I placed my hand over her. "Are you okay?"

She smiled as she wiped her cheeks. "Jahan yaad agaye. (I remembered Jahan.)

I froze for a second and then looked away. The mention of his name reminded me of many bitter things.

"Apko unki kami mehsoon ni hote. (Don't you feel his absence. )"

Her words replayed a memory in my mind. The only time that I felt like, I needed him with me. No actually, I craved for him to be here with me. When I woke up at night in pain with blood on my sheets. My good fortune was that Sara was sleeping with me that night. She immediately took me to hospital and I was saved from having an miscarriage.

After wards, everyone was particular of taking care of me. They took care of my medicines and food making sure that my B.P remained on normal. That day was the only and last time that the need to have him near arose inside me.

"Naraz haina un sae. Wo guilty hai bohat ....... (You are upset with him. He is very guilty.......)

She continued speaking pulling ne out of the memory. The memory which was more like a nigtmare.

"Aisa ni hai. (Its not like that.)" The lie easily slipped from my lips.

"Main ni jante k kiya howa hai .. mgar Noor main eik maa k hasseyat se ilteja karna chahte ho. (I don't know what happened but Noor as a mother, I want to request you.)

Noor. It was Noor not Chanda. She may have raised me as her own dauguter but at the end, I wasn't. It was reality. The reality that many of us find it hard to take in. Blood was always thicker then water.

She hesitated before speaking again. "Jahan ko wapis bula le. (Call him back.)"

I looked at her, hoping my expressions didn't give away the feelings that I felt.

"Ye unka ghar hai mummy. (Its his home.) He can come back whenever he wants."

"Noor." A plead left from her lips. Tears started leaving one by one.

"Ap bulaein ge to wapis ayege. Maaf karne ka ni kah rahe. Unhe bs apne nazro k samne dekhna chahte ho. Phir shayad is maa k dil ko sukoon ajaye. (He would only come back if you call him. I just want to see him in front of my eyes. Maybe then the heart of this mother will be in peace.)

She waited for my relpy. When there come none. She just smiled and wiped the tears. "khush raho. (Be happy.)" Her lips uttered the duaa before she left.

Happy. The word somehow had lost its meaning for me. What was happiness? Just pure happiness. Wasn't it all temporary. Well in my case, it was very short living. I didn't know how to be happy. With him or without him. His nearness gave me the temporary bliss even his judaai (seperation) only gave me the temporary bliss.

But was I ready to face him again. Face him and my feelings again. The feeling that I have put in sleep for very long.

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Standing at the balcony of highest floor. The moving cars on the road looked so small. The hight assured a swift death, if I dared to jump from the railing. It felt tantalising.

Though after a thought pushed into my mind. She would have to see me if I died, Right? But I didn't want to die without seeing her one last time, hearings that voice or feeling that euphoric scent of her being.

The there was this another thought. What if she denies to ever see me again? But if I died, she would have to attend by Janaza. (Funeral) then there was this another thought. But if I die then I won't be able to see her, Would I?

These kind of arguments became part of my head almost every second. I know this wasn't good and I neeeded to go back to my therapist. But, I only showed interest in therapy for her.

Now that my existance wasn't needed in her world. Why should I try to be sane? The depression, this pain, insomnia. It felt a part of punishment that I had to ensure.

Somehow my twisted mind reasoned. Maybe seeing my suffering, Allah would have mercy on my wanderd soul. He would melt her heart for me a little bit. Maybe this punishment would be enough in his eyes.

He is raheem. So maybe his rehmat would be bestowed on me. The ringing of my phone in this quite place broke the flow of my thoughts.

I walked inside through the adjoined door into darkness of the room. Picking the phone up, I placed it on my right ear.

There was a momentary silence, sounds of her breaths before she spoke. "ghar wapis ajayein. (Come back home.)"

For some time, my ears couldn't believe it was her. My hand was hanging with my phone grasped tightly in it as I looked outside at the setting sun with newfound hope shining in my eyes.

Maybe Allah has answered all my tahajuds and prayers.

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She was avoiding me, not meeting my eyes, since I stepped back in haveli. She would sleep early just to not face me. At least, she was infront of my eyes.

Just like at this moment, sleeping so peacefully. Sometime I felt envious of her sleeping like this with no care while I would sleep with one eye open.

Her being in my vision didn't automatically made my fear rush away. I would sleep for an hour at most to open my eyes again, to check if she is okay. My brain just didn't let me be at peace.

It was no different tonight too. My fingers traced the curves of her face. Motherhood had given her a natural glow. I pulled a strand of her hair, tucked it behind her ear.

Not wanting to disturb her sleep. I pulled ny twitching finger back to myself. Sometimes it felt like, I couldn't get much of her presence.

I looked at the ceiling taking in deep breaths in and out. Swallowing the wish to pull her in my arms, as I couldn't dare to act upon it. Sleeping this night away just like every other with hope that tomorrow would better.

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My eyes were down as I walked down the stairs, not expecting my foot to slip at one stair in middle. My heart stopped as I waited for the impact of my fall but instead a hand grasped my waist.

My shallow breaths started getting better. The panic evaporated in some minutes. My senses started to work and at that instant, a very familiar musky woody scent hit me on force.

My hands that were holding onto front of his shirt loosened their hold as I heared his whisper.

"Theak hain? (You Alright?)"

He moved a bit away pulling me downstair issuing the orders to servents to transfer our things into a guest room downstairs. I was walked to our new room with his hand on my waist.

The servents worked putting things in cupboard while I stood there, recalling what could have happend. The door was closed as servents left the room, leaving both of us alone in an unending silence.

"Apki next appointment kb hai. (When is your next appointment.) I want to accompny you."

I looked at him with my brows furrowed at his question. How could he think that I would want him there after what he almost did.

"Main ni chahte k ap hume accompny kare. (I don't want you to accompny us.)

"Q? (Why?)"

"I simply don't trust you."

The sentence struck him as he looked at me with unbelievable eyes. He looked around with his lips parted. Maybe looking for words or excuses to justify himself.

"Ap ne apne liye ni mujhe bulaya. (You didn't call me for yourself.) His lips tilted in slight tauntive smile. The kind of where your are taunting your own self. I didn't need to confirm it. My silence had its own reply.

His shoulder slumped and the hope dimmed in thise honey brown eye. He came foward taking ny hand in his own, silently looking at them, tracing each and ever curvature.

"Hath jor loga, qadamo me gir jau ga, jo kahehe wo karoga, bs maaf karde. (I would fold my hands, get down on my knees. I would do whatever you say, Just forgive me.)"

Irony that he was ready to do anything and I sought nothing from him. Sometimes, I wondered that why people were so late. Why they were ready to do things when they weren't needed anymore.

"Ab faraq ni parta. Mujhe apse kuch ni chaheye. (Its doesn't matter anymore. I want nothing from you.)"

He shrugged his head with eyes wide open as he gripped my shoulders. "Aise na kahe. (Don't say this.)"

I gripped his hand and placed it on my stomach where our child was. I looked into those very eyes that once I cherished.

"He is my strength, Jahan not my weekness."

Saying those words, I pulled away from the circle of his closeness. This child has given me a bravery that I thought, I would never have. He gave me a relation. A relation so powerful that I could fight the whole world alone. The fear of being alone, having no one. It vanished by him. Because I knew even if there was no one. There would be always him. My son, my pillar and my strength.

"Ni." He took hold of my hand, Pulled me closer as he whispered. "Theak hai. Mat kare maaf. Mat kare muhabbat. (Don't forgive me. Don't love me.) He pulled me in the circle of his arms.

"Bs choriye ga mat. han. (Just don't leave me.)" A plead left those lips.

He cupped my face with his shivering hands while I looked at the this man. He wasn't someone that I could recognise. Where was that arrogance? Where did he left it all?

"Mar jaoga main. Main mar jaoga. (I will die. I will die.)" He repeated it again and again.

His lips fell on my eyes moving downward kissing every where followed by warm drops of tears, whispering in between.

"Bohat muhabbat karta ho, ni rehsakta, plz. (I love you so much, I can't live.)"

Kissing downward, His head fell on my shoulders, tears continuously falling down on my bare collerbone.

Was he the same strong man that I once knew? Why he couldn't be the same Jahan Sikander Ali Shah. Who always stood with head held hight and an air of arrogance. Manipulating for his own gain.

Ab itna bikhre or tootay howe q? (Why now so scatterd and broken?)

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