The Longest Autumn

When did she pray with this level of sincerity last time? She didn't even remember. But for the last few days she had no other goal besides praying for Danish. Lifting the cup of her hands in the air she was still praying for Danish, his happiness and his job when her eyes travelled to the ring present in her finger. Heart clenched with pain, eyes filled with tears and breath hitched for a moment. 

‘Why can’t I get a loving man like him?’ her heart cried but at the same moment felt scared of herself to develop feelings for an already married man. 

“Ya Allah, you know na, I don't want to do anything which is inappropriate, and unethical but I'm unable to control my heart which is going towards him, I don't want to think about him, but I'm unable to get him out of my mind. What should I do? How do I manage everything?” Face hidden in her palms she was crying now. 

"Allah paak please, Danish ko yaha job na mile. Please.” Till a moment ago she was praying for Danish to get a job soon but suddenly she changed her demand. "Wo chale jaye yaha se.” This was the only wish she could make in this situation. 

(May Danish do not get a job here. May he go back soon.)

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A doorbell rang, she opened the door and the most beloved face displayed a huge grin. “For you." Passing a big basket filled with different types of chocolates he stepped inside without permission. 

"Puchogi nhi ye chocolates kis khushi mein?” 

(Won't you ask the reason behind giving you the chocolates)

"You can tell me without me asking.” Aisha replied without looking towards him, she was closing the door and wishing Danish to go away as soon as possible because with each passing moment she was losing control over her heart. 

"I got a job. Truly a good one.” Danish’s voice was full of enthusiasm but Aisha’s heart skipped a beat. She suddenly turned back to see him smiling. 

“It's all because of you Aisha.” Danish took a small step closer to her, he was over the moon but Aisha got fresh tears. “Arey, are you crying?" Danish laughed. “Pagal ladki, tumhe to khush hona chahiye tumhari dua qubul ho gyi.” 

(You silly girl… you should be happy, your prayer is being answered.) 

“Meri koi dua qubul nhi hoti, Danish. Main jo mangti hu hamesha uska ulta hi hota hai.” only she knew the reality of her statement but Danish was smiling wholeheartedly and taking all these words as an innocent statement of this girl. 

(None of my prayers get answered, Danish. Whatever I ask for always gets the opposite.)

"Yaar tum ladkiyan kitna rooti ho, khushi ho to roone lag jao, dukh ho to roone lag jao… hadd hai.” 

(Dude… you girls are masters in waterworks. Either a joyful moment or sad, you're always ready with tears.) 

"Aap bhi samjhenge.” Aisha wiped her tears and walked towards the kitchen followed by Danish. 

(You won't understand.)

“So explain." 

“Leave it." She muttered without looking at him. Danish felt odd for a moment. Was she avoiding looking at him? Or was it just his misunderstanding?

“Aisha are you alright?” he furrowed 

"Hmm, I'm fine." While cutting cucumber she nodded, avoiding glancing at his face because she was forgetting her limits in the presence of this man who was always available for her but can't be hers rightfully. 

"Am I bothering you?" He asked after getting only silence in reply, Aisha looked up, their eyes met, hands still working with a knife and suddenly her eyes filled with fresh tears. 

“Aisha…” he hissed as if not hers but his figure got a cut. Grabbing her hand he dragged her to the kitchen sink. The cold running water gave a sharp pain to this girl but which pain was bigger? The pain of this wound or one inside the heart? 

Tears still rolling down, she looked at Danish standing beside her washing her finger from which blood was flowing regularly. 

‘Go away from my life Danish, I can't bear the pain of your nearness when I am nothing to you other than a neighbour.’ her heart yelled but tongue didn't dare to voice those words. 

Sometimes you meet some people accidentally who understand the real meaning behind your words. They listen to your silence, understand your commotion and let you feel the warmth of a hug without even coming near you. These people are rare to find and easy to lose. Danish was one for her. 

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“Sara,” Maizah sat beside the lady who was gulping a pill with water. “Hypertension? Again?" Maizah noticed the medicine and sighed. 

“Stop stressing yourself, I have talked to Fayra, she will understand. At least you don't create another matter of concern for all of us regarding your health." This time Maizah kind of scolded Sara. 

“Is ladki ne mujhe preshan kar diya hai, Maizah." Sara was about to cry. She couldn't find any way to make things better but Maizah sighed again. 

(This girl is becoming a troublemaker for me.)

“I don't know about you, but I can understand her situation, it's not easy for her to accept Danish as her husband. She feels uncomfortable." Said Maizah in a hushed tone, meanwhile Fayra came downstairs, sitting beside Sara she hugged her as if this was a toddler. Sara’s anger was gone without a moment, she forgot how much she was angry with Fayra till a minute ago. 

“Talked to Danish?" 

"Hmm?” Fayra nodded while snuggling in her mother's arms. 

“What was he saying?” Caressing her hair and pouring all the love she had, Sara asked in a small voice but Fayra said nothing, she just closed her eyes.

Her silence yelled otherwise. 

"Fayra, just tell me one thing.” This time Maizah questioned and Fayra looked up. “Do you want to give this relationship a chance or not?" One of the most difficult questions was being asked and Fayra took a deep breath while sitting straight. 

“Umm… I guess… no.” She muttered leaving both the ladies shocked. “I don't feel comfortable with the thought of Danish as my husband." 

Maizah’s heart clenched with pain, she didn't want to see her son suffering. She knew how much Danish adore Fayra.

"At least give him a chance beta,”

"Badi mummy, What am I doing till the last ten months?" 

“You're running away from him.” Said Maizah to convince this girl but it was looking impossible at this point.

"Why don't you all understand that we can be together as best friends, as great cousins and inseparable partners but… maine unhe hamesha ek bhai ki nazar se dekha hai, achanak kese nazariya badal lu unke liye?" 

(I have been seeing him as a brother ever since, I'm unable to change my perspective about him.)

"Agar Danish ko husband samajhne me itna uncomfortable feel karti ho to uske kisi aur ladki ke sath hone par itna hangama kyu kra tha Fayra?” 

(If you feel so uncomfortable considering Danish as your husband, then why did you create such a scene when he was with another girl?)

“Mujhe nhi pta mujhe kyu bura lagta hai jab wo kisi aur ke sath hote hain, shayad bachpan se mujhe adat hai un par haq jatane ki, lekin…” she stood up and went outside, Sara huffed in anger but Maizah grabbed her shoulder and shook her head. 

(I don’t know why it hurts me when he’s with someone else… maybe I’ve been used to having a claim over him since childhood, but…)

“Use khud nhi pta wo kya chahti hai, Danish ke bina bhi nhi reh paa rhi aur Danish ke sath rehna bhi nhi chahti." 

(She herself doesn’t know what she wants — she can’t live without Danish, yet she doesn’t want to be with him either.)

“Maizah is ladki ne mujhe preshan kar diya hai, itni chhoti to nhi hai ye ki maslo ki barikiyo na samajh sake." 

(Maizah, this girl has truly been testing my patience. Isn't she mature enough to understand the nuances of these matters?)

“Fayra ko blame karne se behtar hai is masle ko suljhane ke bare me socho.” Maizah suggested but a frustrated Sara huffed. 

(Sara, instead of blaming her, we should try to get a solution.)

“But how?" 

“In dono ke beech me duriyan aa gyi hain, ek dusre ke bina rehna aa gya hai inhe. Inki duriyan kam karni padengi.” 

(There’s been a distance growing between the two of them—they’ve learned to live without each other. That distance needs to be bridged.)

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A ringing voice was audible somewhere far away. He woke up from a deep slumber and rubbed his eyes. The home was dark enough to see anything around him and looked at the reason behind disturbing his slumber. The only glowing thing in the dark room. His mobile phone.

‘Hello.’ He muttered in a heavy voice. 

"Are you sleeping?” Maizah's soft voice pulled him back to reality. 

"Hmm… kya time ho gya?” He muttered while sitting up on the bed and switched on the light to surprise himself. The clock was showing 9 at night, he slept after having lunch and it was already dinner time. 

How could he sleep for so long? 

“Tabiyat theek hai?" Maizah asked and he nodded while yawning as if his mother could see him 

(Are you alright?)

“Hmm, I was watching a movie and dozed off." 

“Had dinner?" 

“No, not yet." 

“Are you even looking after yourself or not?" 

“I'm not a toddler mummy." Running his fingers in his messy hair Danish muttered. 

"Tumhare liye dry fruits laddu aur kuch home-made snacks banaye hain maine, parcel krungi, recive kar lena." 

(I’ve made dry fruit laddus and some homemade snacks for you—I’ll send them as a parcel, so please make sure to receive it.)

“Kyu preshan ho rhi hain aap? Yaha sab kuch milta hai." Danish stood up from the bed and walked towards the kitchen. He was feeling hungry so opened a cabinet to make noodles for himself but his hands stopped after hearing his mother's voice. 

(Why are you worrying? You can get everything here.)

"Achhi tarha se jaanti hu kya kya milta hoga waha… maggi, chips aur sare deep fried snacks. Wo khaa khaa ke bimar ho jana." Danish's hand stopped to grab the packet of maggi. The other side of the cabinet was filled with chips and salsa. 

(I know very well what you must be getting there—Maggi, chips, and all those deep-fried snacks. Keep eating that stuff and you’ll end up falling sick.)

“Come back, Danish. Please." The voice of this mother was full of pain and requests. 

"Aap aa jaiye mere paas.” He muttered and opened the fridge to find something to eat, but there was nothing other than eggs. And he was tired of having an omelette every next day. 

(You come to me here.)

"Main waha aa gyi to tumhare abba ko kon sambhalega? Wo wese hi adha pagal admi hai." The last love filled comment was only for Maizah herself but Danish laughed. 

(If I come there, who will take care of your father? He’s already half mad.)

“Unki pyari ammi hain na, unse kahiye meri maa ko mere paas bhej de." Danish laughed and Maizah smiled. 

(He has his beloved mother, doesn’t he? Ask her to send my mother to me.)

"Ab tumhe wapas bulane ka intezam kar rhi hu main, bohot reh chuke waha. Wapas aane ki tayyari karo aur apni biwi ko sambhalo.” 

(I’m making arrangements to call you back now—you’ve stayed there long enough. Start preparing to return, and take care of your wife.)

"Maan gyi wo nakchadi?" For a moment Danish could see a day of hope in the dark sky of his life but Maizah's reply broke his heart one more time. 

(Did that stubborn girl finally agree?)

“Not yet, but she will. But your presence is important for this." 

“I don't want to come back just to bring her around. I can't bow more than this.” He still remembered the words he said to Fayra while coming. I won't come into your life again. 

"But Danish…”

"Mummy I'm hungry, going to have dinner. Bye. Take care.” And Maizah heard a beep which indicated that the call was ended. 

"I won't go back!” He reminded himself. Going back to Fayra was nothing but a proof that he wants to close the distance between them but now he wanted Fayra to recognise his feelings and love him back. 

Huffing with frustration he again opened the cabinet to draw out a maggi but slammed the cabinet door and walked out of the apartment. 

Taking the lift he stepped out on the second floor and rang the doorbell. 

"Aap is waqt?” Aisha opened the door to get a surprise. 

(You at this time?)

"Bhuk lag rhi hai, khane ko kuch mil sakta hai?" He wasn't the same polite Danish but sounded like a frustrated one.

(I’m feeling hungry—can I get something to eat?)

“I haven't cooked anything." In order to avoid him she lied. 

“So let's go for dinner. Get ready within five minutes.” Hiding his frustration he demanded.

"What? Why? I'm not going. You go alone." 

“I don't want to go alone. Can't you come?” he suddenly sounded helpless.

“Why are you angry Danish?" 

“I… I'm….” He was shocked for a moment. Was he angry? Really? He didn't actually know what he was feeling right away. He was getting tired of this loneliness and struggling to bring around Fayra. After talking to Maizah he suddenly remembered the joy of resting his head in his mother's lap and having delicious food cooked by her. The commotion of family gatherings and teasings of cousins. In the passing time he started to adjust here silently but today suddenly everything started to feel like a challenge. What if Fayra never accepts him as her husband? Will he stay here forever? Alone? Just four walls around him— no joy of life, no love, no family?

“I… I'm not angry.” He muttered but Aisha was shocked.

“Are you crying?” She noticed wetness in his eyes. "Danish.” a defeated call. Her eyes filled with tears after seeing his condition. She forgot her oath to maintain distance with this man. 

Danish noticed years in her red eyes. They both forgot to blink. Two people in love. Two broken hearts. Two beautiful souls. 

She gave him space, and he silently stepped in without bothering to ask for permission and Aisha’s tears flew down. 

Danish literally threw himself on the sofa and Aisha placed a glass of water in front of him while sitting beside him.

"Kya hua hai Danish?” She tried her best not to cry but tears rolled down after seeing this man in pain.

(What happened?)

"Nothing. I don't even know what I'm feeling.” He muttered, making sure not to cry openly but his eyes were red and watery. “I'm sorry, even I'm bothering you." He muttered while closing his eyes, hiding his face in his palms. He didn't want to break down in front of a girl. He didn't know what she was feeling after seeing him in such a condition. 

Aisha had no control over her heart and tears. If she could, she would steal all his pains without a second thought. 

Danish was still sitting with his head bowed down, elbows resting on his knees, and face hidden in his palms. But he was crying secretly. A man must have been shattered beyond limits to reach such a state. 

"Danish,” she tried to utter but only her lips moved, no voice came out however her hand unknowingly uplifted towards him but before it could cup his face with her soft hand she pulled her hand away. This girl knew her boundaries. 

Getting up from her place she hurriedly moved towards the kitchen. Sensing this movement Danish removed looked up. Aisha was walking towards the kitchen. He sighted without knowing what was going on in someone's heart. 

On the other side…

She grabbed the granite counter top with her one hand and looked at the other hand which was urging to cup that face. 

"Why is it happening to me?" She cried out helplessly but silently. Only she knew how difficult it was for her to stop her hand to cup his face. To feel his hair and skin against her hands. But she controlled herself. Maintaining boundaries and modesty is always a difficult task, and this girl with strong will decided to protect her morals.

Taking a deep breath she let it go and wiped her tears. ‘It is alright! You cannot get everything you want.’ She told her broken heart and again took a deep breath while washing her hands in the kitchen sink and drew out already kneaded dough from the fridge. 

…

Danish took a deep breath and cleaned up his face with a handkerchief. Before he could decide to go back to his apartment, a beautiful figure wearing a printed coord set with mismatched hijab walked into the hall with a plate of curry and a hot steaming roti. 

“Have dinner." 

“No, you have it. I'll have something else." Danish didn't like to bother her but she kept watching him without blinking. Only she knew how she was controlling her hands to cup his face and wipe his tear marks. But her eyes turned wet.

“khana khaiye. Bhuke hain aap.” It was a rightful order in a choked and trembling voice.

(Have dinner, you're hungry.)

“Tum kyu roo rhi ho." He was confused but Aisha's years flew by, she cried out silently as soon as she heard this question. 

(Why are you crying?)

"Aap nhi samjhenge Danish. Aap khana khaiye.” mumbling that she stood up while wiping her tears with her sleeves and this young man forgot to blink. There was something in her eyes that made his heart more restless than before.

(You won’t understand, Danish. Have your meal.)

In some five minutes Aisha was back with another roti and she was surprised to see the previous one still untouched. 

“Tumne kuch khaya?" Knowing very well she doesn't have her meal alone he asked. She didn't reply but he gestured to her to have a seat. 

(Have you eaten something?)

“Only one roti is enough for me, you have this one." Danish grabbed the roti present in front of him and took a small amount of curry, remaining he pushed towards Aisha. 

“Why are you crying? Will you tell me the reason? I promise I will try to understand.” Taking the first Morsel he asked. Aisha smiled like a sarcasm and sighed. The reason behind her tears was trying to know the reason.

“Nothing." 

“Batao." It was an order 

(Tell me)

“Nothing, I was reading a novel… so…" Aisha shrugged and took the first Morsel without looking at him. For a moment Danish forgot his stressful life and looked at this girl whose eyes were still looking red due to crying. 

“Aisha? Are you for real? You were crying for a novel? Really?" He laughed lightly as it was just a funny thing for him. Aisha glared at him and looked away while having another bite. Only then Danish noticed a novel lying on the other couch. Standing up from his place he grabbed the novel and read its name but before he could read anything else Aisha snatched it away from his hand as if it wasn't a novel but her secret treasure. Danish was confused about her act. 

“Aa… aap khana kahiye na, khana beech me chhod k aese kon idhar udhar jata hai?" She took the novel in her tight grip, shielding it like a treasure. Danish found this reaction weird but he ignored it. 

(Uh… you eat your food na—who leaves their meal halfway and wanders off like that?)

"Aesa bhi kya ho gya is novel me jo tum itna roo rhi ho? Male lead mar gya kya end mein?” Danish asked with a smile but Aisha gasped. 

(What happened in that novel that made you cry so much? Did the male lead die at the end?)

"Allah na kare, aesa to na kahiye… maine abhi end nhi padha aur agar aesa hua to main roote roote mar jaungi." She did not like the negativity Danish spoke about the male character whom this girl was actually seeing as him only. 

(God forbid—please don’t say that… I haven’t read the ending yet, and if that happens,  I’ll cry myself to death.)

“Oh to abhi tak hero miya zinda hain… to itna kyu roo rhi ho? Kahi dhoka woka to nhi de diya us khabees nacheez ne?” Danish laughed but Aisha huffed and glared at him. 

(Oh, so the hero’s still alive… then why all the tears? What did he do—pull some dramatic betrayal or just forget to text back?)

"Shut up Danish, don't say anything odd about him. Kuch bura nhi kra usne…" 

(He didn't do anything wrong.)

“To tum kyu roo rhi thi?" This time he was enjoying Aisha's condition, she was being protective for a fictional character as if he was her love… little bit he knows, this girl was being protective for a real life character of her story. 

(Then why were you crying?) 

"Achhi ladkiyan khamosh hi rehti hain.” she muttered but Danish laughed. 

(Good girls stay silent.)

“Lekin tum to ek pagal ladki ho jo fictional characters ke liye roti ho, tum chaho to zyada bhi bol sakti ho." She looked at him with wide eyes… shocked, but the very next moment her lips pulled into a small smile, eyes still holding pain. 

(But you're a silly girl who cries over fictional characters… you can babble if you want.)

“Kaha tha na aap nhi samjhenge." She muttered but he didn't understand. 

(Told you already, you won't understand)

“Hmm?" 

“Achhe bachhe khana khate huye baat nhi karte." She rolled her eyes. 

(Good boys don't talk while eating.)

"Lekin tumse kisne kaha main achha bachha hu?”

(How come you know I'm a good boy?)

"Shut up and have it.” a scolding and he started having dinner silently, but both were holding a smile this time. No tears.

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