The Longest Autumn

The book was resting in front of her with some highlighted words and paragraphs. She was still reading every word again and again, tears rolling down regularly. 

Sniffling again she wiped away the tears and marked a life with blue highlighter then the next line with pink one. 

Achhi ladkiyan mohabbat nahi kartin... aur agar kar lain, to phir jataati nahi hain. Woh chup rehti hain, sabr karti hain aur apne maamlaat Allah ke supurd kar deti hain.

(Decent women do not fall in love... and if they do, they remain silent, practice patience, and hand their matters to Allah.)

Closing the book she gulped the reality down. She had started loving someone's husband silently and now she had to carry her modesty silently. 

“Allah paak, Maine apne maamlaat aapke hawale kar diye hain… ab aap dekh lijiye kya karna hai.” She took a deep breath and sighed while closing her eyes. 

(Ya Allah, I have placed my matters in Your hands… I look to You now to guide the way.)

From the day of realisation of her own feelings toward Danish, she was doing her best to avoid him. Neither she called him for lunch or dinner, nor asked his whereabouts… and if he came by himself, she didn't entertain him much and left him alone in the hall after serving him tea or meal. He started understanding this indifference or ignorance but unable to understand the reason behind it so last night he asked directly, ‘Mujhse koi galti ho gyi hai kya jiski saza tumhari ignorance ki form me mil rhi hai?’

(Have I made any mistake for which I'm getting punished in the form of your ignorance?)

‘Aapse nhi, galti mujhse huyi hai, har rishte hi ek hadd hoti hai, main hamari dosti ki hadd bhulne lag gyi thi, aapse kuch zyada hi free hone lagi thi… to bas apni galti sudhaar rhi hu.’

(It’s not your fault, it’s mine. Every relationship has its limits, and I had started forgetting the boundaries of our friendship. I was getting a bit too comfortable with you… so now I’m just correcting my mistakes.)

How beautifully she expressed what she was trying to do. Before she could be drawn in the memories and delusions the ringing mobile grabbed her attention. It was Danish's call. She sighed and received the call. 

“Hello." 

“Aisha, mummy called—she said the parcel will arrive anytime today, so please receive it.” 

"Fine. I'll let you know once it's here.”

"Thank you so much. Bye.” And the call ended. Aisha sighed and stood up. Yesterday Danish came to her with a set of duplicate keys of his apartment and asked for a favour. Maizah was about to send a parcel for Danish and due to his job he wouldn't be available to receive it, so he asked for a favour. And now, Aisha had to go upstairs to receive the parcel and keep it in Danish's apartment. 

Locking her apartment she went upstairs, unlocked the apartment and… "What the…" she was shocked. 

The only couch in the living room was looking like a laundry basket. Empty wrappers of snacks were scattered everywhere. Grimacing, she stepped into the bedroom, which was no better. Scattered papers, clothes, untidy bedsheet, pillow lying on the floor. 

“Ye aadmi insan hai ya janwar." Maybe for the first time she was disliking Danish. 

(Is this man a human or animal?)

In her whole life she hadn't seen a mess like this. Taking back steps she walked towards the kitchen which was telling another story. A sink full of dishes, a few over burnt pans and a greasy gas stove were yelling altogether for help. “Ewww… Danish, you are such a disgusting man.” using the tip of her first finger she picked the saucepan which was yelling that last night someone burnt noodles in that. 

“How can a civilized human being live in such a place?” she mumbled and didn't get courage to step ahead but she had to. 

She looked at the clock, it was already afternoon, and there was no fixed time for that parcel to arrive. “Will I have to stay in this junkyard for hours?" Only the thought of staying here was horrible. With all her efforts she tried her best to find a place where she could sit silently but her habit of tidiness provoked her again and again. 

"Can't he load these dirty clothes in the washing machine?” She huffed and took another home tour just to realise that Danish was deprived of the blessings of watching machine and dishwasher, maybe that's why his home was looking like this.

For a moment she felt pity on him. Living alone is not easy, especially when you have no idea how to handle household responsibilities and balance work. 

Now she understood why he visited her home again and again. Who would like to spend his time in such a place? She tried hard to ignore this mess but couldn't. Grimacing again, she walked towards the hall, made a bundle of dirty clothes, and went back to her apartment. Once she was done loading all of them in the washing machine, she was again in the elevator to reach Danish's apartment. 

This time she collected all those dirty dishes and stepped out from the apartment. ‘Kisi ne dekh liya to sochega main berozgari se itna thak gyi hu ki bartan churane ka kaam shuru kar diya.’ Huffing in her heart she went to her apartment and loaded the dishwasher then again came back to Danish’s apartment while holding a duster, floor cleaner and mop.  

(If someone sees me, they’ll think I’ve become so tired of unemployment that I’ve started stealing utensils for a living.)

“Log insaniyat ke naam par hadd se guzar jate hain, aur main yaha jhadu pochha kar rhi hu. Main Pagal wagal ho gyi hu kya?” she jerked her head and started brooming the floor. 

(People work beyond limits in the name of humanity and here I'm sweeping and mopping. Am I mad or what?)

<><><><>

“Mummy, Please…” 

“Shut up Fayra.” Sara had scolded her only daughter due to which Fayra was sad for the last five hours.

“Faru… it is okay beta, Don't be upset. Parents usually scold their children. Ignore, and be happy.” Anzala pulled her chubby cheeks but she was still looking upset. 

“Bade papa itna to koi nhi daanta na, mummy to hamesha sabke samne daant deti hain.” 

(Bade papa, no one scolds as much as mummy. She scolds me in front of everyone.)

“Comw on Fayra, we are your family, not outsiders. And you know… your favourite Dadijaan was a Hitler in her time. You're not even getting tortured the way we were…” Anzala looked at Maizah and raised his brow in a questioning way. 

“Seriously, badi ammi was so strict." Maizah nodded while rolling her eyes but Fayra looked up suddenly. Cheeks still puffed, but suddenly the creases of her forehead vanished. 

“I can't believe it. Dadi Jaan is so sweet, you people are lying." 

“Beta tumne abhi apni Dadi Jaan ka asli roop dekha hi kaha hai, tumhe ham jese shareef maa baap mil gye jo tumhare nakhre uthate hain. Agar tum logo ki ek baat na maano ye tumhe daant do to tumhare muh ban jaate hain. Ham to apne maa baap ka gussa bhi bardasht karte the aur unse mafi bhi mangte the. Ab ye unka ehsaan hota tha ki wo kab maaf kre.” Maizah explained a little part of her life which was indigestible for Fayra.

(Dear, you're lucky to have parents like us, who literally roam around you, but you still throw tantrums. And if it comes to your sweet Dadi Jaan, huh… you are unaware of her sweetness yet. You people get angry if we don't do what you want, but we as kids were different. We used to beg for forgiveness after getting slaps and scoldings.)

“Babe papa, is this true?" 

“What do you think, am I lying?" Maizah widened her eyes and Fayra afterall smiled while shrugging her shoulders. 

“Even after having such strict parents you both are like this? I can justify Dadi Jaan’s anger and strictness.” Maizah laughed at this statement while remembering the past. 

“I was innocent as compared to this chudail, I used to get punished due to her."

“Anzu.” Maizah's eyes widened. Her partner suddenly betrayed her in front of Fayra, but this girl was enjoying everything now. 

"I trust you babe papa.” Fayra chirped while having a look at the road from the window glass of the taxi. 

“Fine, trust him only. I was planning to take you somewhere for Dinner, but not now.” 

“After all, you proved that you're a phuppi.” Fayra teased Maizah who raised her imaginary collar. 

“This is also a talent. And I've been talented ever since." 

"Bade papa, I'll go for dinner with you.” Fayra announced; and Anzala, who was enjoying the banter of these two, nodded.

“Hmm, good idea.” Anzala, being super nice nodded in agreement. For a moment Maizah was surprised, how could this man be so sincere in a good mood? No drama. No prank. How? “But I won't go without my wife." The additional statement brought a huge grin to Maizah's face. 

"Fine, go with your wife, I won't go if she is supposed to join us.” Huffing with fake anger and true tantrums Fayra looked away one more time, but Maizah pulled her niece in a side hug. 

“Your phuppo is not that toxic.” while having a glance of the beautiful view from the window of the fast moving taxi, Maizah smiled. 

“Rehne de Mazi, wo nhi jana chahti. Dekh bilkul bhi khush nhi lag rhi tere sath jaane ke naam se. if she doesn't want to, then leave it…” knowing very well how much Fayra loved outings, Anzala shrugged while the taxi stopped near a tall building. 

(Leave it, Mazi, she doesn’t want to go with you. Look, she doesn’t seem happy at all.)

"Areyyyy… Maine kab kaha mujhe nhi jana…?" Fayra protested while Anzala was unloading the suitcases from the taxi. Sara's scolding was not worthy to be traded with an outing, so now she was forgetting everything just focusing on some delicious food and outings.

(Hey when did I say I don't want to go?)

“Tumne to ek baar bhi nhi kaha lekin main tumhare dil ki baat samajh gya beta. Tum rehne do, Main is chudail ke sath akela chala jaunga. Wese bhi bohot arsa ho gya date par gye huye.” It seems Anzala was ready to sacrifice the plan just for Fayra but she looked at Maizah with wide eyes. 

(You didn't say it once, but I understand your wish. Don't worry, I'll go with this chudail. Well, it has been so long since we've been on a date.)

And suddenly Fayra felt like a third wheel while walking between Anzala and Maizah, it was the first time when Anzala was talking in this way to Maizah openly. Otherwise no one had ever witnessed anything between this couple besides banter. Their love was hidden from the world just like a pearl present inside its shell. But this situation was making Fayra embarrassed. However she didn't know what this man was telling her.

“Kuch to sharam kar le Anzu, Bachhi ke samne aesi baate kon karta hai…”

(Have some shame, Anzu—who talks like this in front of children?)

"Isme sharam karne wali kya baat hai? Biwi hai tu meri.” Anzala shrugged while walking ahead, he stepped into the elevator followed by both the ladies. 

(Why would I be ashamed? You're my wife.)

"Bachho ke samne to thoda lihaz kar le.” Maizah slapped his arm while he was pressing the button reading 13. 

(Hesitate. At least in front of them.)

"Ab bachhe bade ho gye hain. Inhe bhi pta hona chahiye shadi ka asal matlab kya hota hai. Jab ek mard nikkah ke liye haan kehta hai to usme himmat honi chahiye ki sari duniya ke samne aetraaf-e-mohabbat kar sake. Uske kandho par zimmedari aa jati hai us ladki ko protect karne ki. Aur us ladki ko chahiye ki apne shohor par bharosa kre, use utni hi izzat de jitni use mohabbat mil rhi hai. Lekin tu meri izzat hi nhi karti.” The last part came with a teasing smile, Fayra felt her hand start shivering after hearing whatever Anzala was already telling only her. Stepping out of the elevator she felt her palms turning wet due to sweat.

(Now the children have grown up. They should also know what marriage really means. When a man says yes to nikah, he should have the courage to confess his love in front of the whole world. He then carries the responsibility to protect that woman. And that woman, in turn, should trust her husband and give him as much respect as the love she receives. But you don’t even respect me.)

“Insaan dekh ke izzat di jaati hai, main tere upar izzat waste nhi kar sakti." Maizah mocked while Anzala walked ahead. Both husband and wife were smiling wholeheartedly.

(Respect is given on the basis of a person's personality, and you're not worthy.)

A door stood tall in front of three of them. The nameplate was reading ‘Danish Rizwi’

It was Maizah who rang the bell and waited with a loud heartbeat, she had already told her son to stay at home as the parcel could arrive at any moment, but instead of staying at home Danish did something else… and now this woman was standing impatiently to see and embrace her son after months. 

"What's taking him too long to open the door?" Maizah again rang the bell, and this time they all felt a movement on the other side of the door. Anzala was holding a huge grin, Maizah was ready to open her arms and Fayra was feeling nervous, one part of her was about to cry after seeing Danish after a long time but the other part was ready to run away from him. 

“Surpri…” Maizah's voice was lost in the middle of the word when the door was opened by a girl who was covering her head with dupatta with one hand while her other hand was holding a duster and tile cleaning spray. The surprise visit turned into a shock for four of them. 

For a moment Anzala questioned himself, did he knock the wrong door? But the nameplate was still reading Danish Rizwi. 

Aisha's face lost its color. Maizah was unable to say anything, Fayra's heart trembled fearfully. “Not again…” she whispered, as if every man was turning into the same story. Within a second she again started hating every man, including Danish, for being a cheater, But Anzala showed some courage. 

“Who are you? And where is Danish?" 

"I…” she forgot her name for a moment. “I'm... I… Danish told me about his parcel… so I was here to collect that. He is on his job…” Aisha muttered, unsure if everyone heard her voice or not. 

Maizah was seeing Aisha from head to toe. If this girl was stating the truth then why she was cleaning this home just like a person who lives in the same house. Recognising the question in those eyes Aisha felt more nervous and opened her mouth… 

"I… actually…" she didn't know what to say, Anzala gestured Maizah to step in. Aisha gave space to all of them and dared to grab one suitcase but Anzala’s one signal stopped her from touching the suitcase. She was shivering with fear of consequences and judgment. 

“Anzu ye sab kya hai?" Maizah muttered and turned to see Fayra but she was still standing in a shocked state outside the apartment. Her eyes filled with fresh tears. 

(What's this Anzu?) 

"Fayra…” stepping ahead Maizah embraced this girl who was seeing men's different faces again and again. "Shh… we will talk to Danish," 

Anzala looked at Fayra's condition which turned his face red due to anger. Once he had blamed Fayra for not recognising Danish's feelings and making him suffer, but now Fayra's reaction was looking justifiable. 

“Badi Mummy, you were the one who forced me to come here, I didn't even want to meet him. Just finish it all, let him live however he wants.” 

“Sorry to interrupt you but… Fayra, it's not like what you are thinking.” After all, Aisha spoke a bit louder than before. Anzala closed the door after taking Maizah and Fayra inside, now all the eyes were fixed on Aisha. 

“Please don't misunderstand. I was here to collect the parcel but when I saw the condition of this home I couldn't resist myself. I was just cleaning Danish's home because… he lives alone, there is no one to do these chores when he is already out for his job.” Aisha was explaining herself. 

“How often do you come here?" Anzala asked but before Aisha could answer a voice echoed. 

“As if she will tell you honestly." Fayra jerked her head and pulled her hand away from Maizah's grip before sitting on the couch. 

“I…” Aisha looked at Fayra who was holding back her tears and remembering Arsh’s betrayal, then towards Maizah and Anzala. Now her true statement was going to look like a lie. It was the first time when she was stepping inside Danish's apartment but who would accept this truth?

“I… I'm going back. You people better ask Danish how often I visit here.” Her choked voice broke at the end. Tears slipped away and she turned to go. Just a few hours of work in the name of morality and humanity, but in return she got a question mark on her modesty and pious character she had been maintaining gracefully for decades. 

<><><><>

“Stop crying. Let him come, we will ask him about all this." Maizah pulled Fayra in a bear hug, this girl didn't know why she was crying for Danish when she didn't want to continue this marriage. Confusion was on peak. 

"But now I don't want to talk to him… I'm done with him.” 

<><><><>

"What the hell was I doing in his home? Who is that man to me? Why have I already developed a soft corner for him in my heart?" She yelled at herself standing in front of the mirror. It was the first time when someone questioned her character and it was all because of her presence in Danish's apartment at the wrong time. “Enough is enough.” Fists curled tightly, eyes red and watery, with fury she looked at the girl present in the mirror. "Stop playing with your life and self-respect. No need to be in touch with that man.” And she sniffled while turning back, throwing the pillow aside she dropped herself on the couch then suddenly realised that she forgot her mobile phone upstairs however she had no courage to go there.

"Danish was just a neighbour whom I was trying to support as he was living away from his family, now his family is here, so better to maintain distance.” She told herself but some part of her was still cursing herself to stay in his apartment and making a blunder.

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