Awareness can sometimes be a curse. When you become aware of the all of the why's, the reasons behind the actions. And when it happens, we don't remain much sure about the identity of the victim.

Ironically somehow, we all are victims and offenders. Humans play so many roles in the stories of the lives of the other people. They could be unkown and known. Our role could active or it may be passive. Maybe a villian to one and a hero to another.

The funniest things is sometimes these roles are played consciously but other times, they aren't even in our awareness.

My breath got stuck in my throat. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath to ease my oxygen deprived lungs. When I opened my eyes again, wet tears moved down my cheeks, falling swiftly.

I didn't want to hear at first but somehow now that I did so. My heart didn't feel like a stone anymore. What made me reach out even I wasn't aware of it. It was just a sudden thought that I didn't hear his side of story. Now the story was there in front of my very eyes. I didn't know what to do it. The line between hate and love, forgiveness and to not forgive. They all blurred, making my heart to be in two pieces both apart.

His every word, every breath was radiating his pain. The chest that was being clutched by his hand, and that trembling body with that heart wrenching daastaan. If this wasn't prove of his suffering then what was?

In my own pain. I neglected that it couldn't be only me that was suffering. I added more and more pain to his suffering with my words and my attitude. Forgetting my own values that were taught to me. Hurting to ease your own pain can never bring you peace.

How could someone hide this much pain without even shredding a tear for this long?

"Ap q ro rahi hain. (Why are you crying?)"

His palms held my face with thumbs wiping away the tears underneath the eyes.

"Na roya kare mere liye, main is qabil nahi. (Don't cry for me. I am not deserving of it.)"

Tilted lips whispering those words. How could he even smile? I could admit that I didn't want to see him tilt his lips for this particular smile. It didn't look good on him.

He placed his head on mine, nose aligned, eye closed, breathing the same air. More tears spilled and then spilled. Joining each other.

Mine spilled on my helplessness and hopelessness. Helpless because when I decided to hear him. I knew that there would be something that would lower my rigidness.

Hopeless because it did and still it feels like it wasn't enough.

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My hands raised for prayer after burning the wisp of the cotton. I have already placed the chaddar on the grave of Bibi Pak Daman. I have been burning this diya every Thursday, doing what I promised. Giving food to every person that worked here or took the sanctuary in this darbar.

All of my prayers were same, only for this child that I have been nurturing, to be healthy, to remain stead feet on right path.

Today my prayer wanted my heart to become soft and forgiving like it was, sometimes ago. I wanted the blackness to be washed away. I wanted the courage to forgive and and forget for the better future.

There were sayings that maybe Allah will answers our prayers with waseela of his beloved people. These beloveds of Allah were taken as a link that may transfer our prayer to the Almighty.

When you needed to buy something from a shopkeeper but you actually had no money to give him or anything to trade then what a normal person does. He asks for help from someone else.

In the similar way we asked these beloveds of Allah to help us sinners who had nothing to offer. Our souls, heart and whole being was his to take. There were amal that we could trade, that were only our own but we never tried to earn them. So we all stood here, empty handed with empty laps, begging eyes asking his beloveds to do our sifarish.

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He was about to get out of the car. When I placed my hand on his, stopping him from getting off. Those tears trailing down his cheeks were still in my mind. I knew those cheeks would still be damp.

In this movement, I wanted to feel those damp cheeks under the tips of fingers. I wanted to erase those tears away like they never existed.

My heart wasn't in peace, seeing the destruction of pride that was embellish of his zaat.

The feeling of his callous hand was still underneath mine. My eyes strayed from my lap to his face. His eyes were set in front, not daring to look at my face.

"Maine kabhi apke anso ni pounche, haina? (I haven't ever wiped your tears, Right?)

"Ni. (No.)" I never could have imagined a single word could have gathered this much longing in it.

"Ijazat hai? (May I?)" My right hand lifted just a few centimeters away from his face.

He leaned his face down and my palm rubbed across his stubble but my fingers remained in air not daring to touch those damp cheeks.

Those awaiting eyes, waited patiently for my fingers to message the pain away, until the hope dimmed and the lips broke the chains of patience.

"Ruk q gayi. (Why did you stop?)"

My eyes that were staring blankly at my unmoving finger looked at him. Wetness of helplessness damped my own cheeks.

"ab ap q ro rahi hai? (Now, why are you crying?)"

In a flash, my hand was back at my lap. I settled the rosy pink chiffon duppata back on my head, pulling the stray hair behind my ears as I looked forward.

At this movement, I was standing in between two roads. At one moment, my heart reminded me about his suffering and then it remembered the sufferings that it went through.

There were bleaks that had left their imprint on my heart. The bleak of his betrayal, bleak of his lies, bleak of his decisions.

"Main______Main apko maaf Karna chahti ho. (I want to forgive you.)" I looked at him as my voice became hoarser with every word.

"Main bholna jati ho sb. (I want to forget everything.) He savoured my every words. "Magar ni karsakte. Ni ho raha. (but I can't. Its not happening.)"

My lips trembled at the end, even some simple words felt difficult to make out in the hiccups of my cries.

"Jhoot bol le. Na kare dil se in ansoono ko saff. Dekhawa he sahe bs thore se muhabba dekhade. (Lie to me. Don't wipe away these tears with your heart. May it be only pretense but just show me a bit of love.)"

He raised my hand placed his cheek on it. "Ha." Eyes begging to agree.

Closed eyes waited to hear my final word as he mumbled. "Jee loga is dikhawe k sath bs ha karde. (I will live with this pretense just say yes.")

My head shook involuntarily as I pulled my hand away. "Main apke sath eik jhoot me ni reh sakte. (I can't live with you in a lie."

"Maaf karde, Jahan. (Forgive me.)"

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Waking up in middle of the night due to tussle of a person beside you, specially when you are drained both emotionally and physically. And you just have fallen into sleep before your long struggle with insomnia.

This all would have frustrated a normal person but a aashiq isn't a normal person now, Is he?

Turned on the lamp, and just looked at the Zalim by my side who has just closed her eyes innocently. Feinging to be asleep.

"Main janta ho k ap jage howe hai. (I know that you are awake.)"

She hesitantly opened her eyes and looked at me as she set in a straight position with her hands folded in her lap.

"Ap pehle he asane se soye ni hoge aur mane ab apko jaga diya. (You must have not slept with ease and now I have woken you up.)"

" hmmm. "

She already had an idea about my medical condition. There was no reason to deny or lie.

"kiya howa hai? (What happened?)"

She pulled her bottom lip within her teeth in contemplation. Eyes on the lap which studied me from corner. My lips drew into a smile at her every small action.

"ab bataye ge? (Now will you tell me?)"

Her eyes moved up and looked directly at me. They were wide open filled with hesitancy. "Bhook lagi hai. (I am hungry.)"

I couldn't help the smile from completely spreading up on my lips. It was just this.

"Kiya khana hai. (What do you want?)"

"Gajar ka halwa."

Seeing me looking through my phone, with tip of my finger ready to open foodpanda app, she further added. "mane dekha hai is me, stores jo ye sell karahe hai wo closed hai delivery k liye. (I have checked the stores which are selling it all are closed for delivery.)"

I pulled off the blanket and stood up, pulling the slippers on. Walking towards her side, I took car keys and my wallet from the table.

"Kaha ja rahe hai? (Where are you going?)

"apke liye halwa lene. (To get hakwa for you.)"

She captured my hand and then suddenly pulled her hand off. It was just for some seconds but the warmth still remained with me.

"Mat jayein. Bohat raat hochuke hai. Haveli se shahar tk kaise jayege. (Don't go. Its already late. How would you go to the city?)"

Bending down, My eyes stayed on her face. "Mere biwi ne pehle dafa is halat me koi farmaish k hai, ab wo bhe na pore karo. (Its the first time that my wife beseeched me in this condition, Now can't I even do that.)"

I looked at her. There was this weird feeling of love that had gripped my heart at this very moment. I wanted to adore her with my eyes, lips and tips of my fingers. Hug her tightly in my arms and not let go. I just wanted to adore her badly, badly and badly.

Reigning in control of my emotions. My lips just touched her temple and stayed there as I reminded myself. "Just for a few seconds."

"Intezaar karye ga, bs ata ho. (Wait for me. I will be back.)

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After two hours of searching through shops, and now being able to hold the box of gajar ka halwas in my hand. It all felt like an accomplishment.

Stepping out of the shop, I noticed the trinklets of rain falling from sky. Looked up at the sky and saw few very small streaks of light rays, they showed their glimpse. The beautiful view painted a beautiful smile on my lips.

Standing in the middle of the road. These rays felt like a hope for better future but it all broke with just a single phone call.

The phone on my ear, a voice explaining things that I didn't want to hear. The rain downpoured, drenching me. Contrasting to those beautiful trinklets. It felt like the sky was downporing the droplets of despair just to drench me in darkness.

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Running through the hallways, with heart to my throat. My body didn't feel like my own as it carried me to the private floor. Walking up to my mother who was sitting in the waiting area, I fell on the ground beside her.

"Ami."

My senses weren't working as I called her out and stayed on the cold floor with wide open eyes and uneven breathing.

Gaze asking how could this happen in span of few hours. Pleading her to lie that this all was a charade or a bad dream.

"Am____ihh."

Trembling lips and eyes pouring drop after drop just like those black clouds on the sky.

"Jahan.... Tum ne itne dair q karde beta. (Jahan... Why did you make it so late son?)"

"Am_____mmm__ woo theak haina? (Is she fine?)" My wild eyes longed for a positive response but she shook her head.

"Tum ni aye to preshan the. Kahne lagi... Mummy, Jahan ni aye abhe tk hassam ko jagate ho. (You didn't come so she was worried. She started saying "Mummy, Jahan is still not back, so I am going to wake up Hassam)"

She started telling me everything in a daze. With my blurry vision, I wasn't able see anything but the water in my own eyes.

"Pata ni mujhe kiya howa k maine use seerheya chadne dee......Panch ya chey he seeeriyan chadhe hoge Jahan aur wo phisly.. (I don't know what happened that I let her climb up the stairs....she must have climbed five to six stairs and then she slipped.)"

"aur bs eik cheekh aur wo the au zameen aur irad girad hoon, surh hoon. (And then came a loud scream and there she was and floor and the surrounding blood, red blood.)"

Tears fell from my eyes. I cried like a child in the hallway. Sobs erupting from my lips. Everyone looked at me like they have never seen me before.

Their gaze felt like dust as my head lulled into my mother's lasp.

"Ami.. Ami wo mujhe chord k to ni jaye gi na. (Ami... She won't leave me right.")

"Jahan us k halat ache ni hai... Dua karo mere jan bs Allah se dua karo. (Jahan, She isn't in a good condition just pray my love... Just pray to Allah.)"

The continuous riging in my ear didn't stop. It was the worse night of my life. It made remember my every sin. It made me remember Sara and every each of her word.

I was paying for the hurt that I caused her. I was paying for my every sin. I did hurt her. No, I actually hurt them both.

So I begged. I begged the merciful again and again. To not take her away. To not take her away. Begged till my throat couldn't make a sound.

Eyes awaiting for a miracle. My signature on the paper reminding me about her words.

"Jaan basti hai mere is me. Ye ni to main ni. (He is my life. If he doesn't exist then I don't too.)"

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