Safar e Meraki

The weather was different that night. Stormy weather in the middle of summer. Unusual. Some people believe nature mirrors a person’s internal battles. When the heart breaks, and the soul grieves, the skies cry in thunderstorms.

And tonight, this storm belonged to the broken, tearful, rageful heart of a lover. 

With heavy rain, the highway turned slick and reflective, and dust swirled wildly in the wind. A sharp screeching sound at the turn echoed in the silence of the Indore-Bhopal road. Drifting at every turn, his grip tightened on the steering wheel, turning his knuckles white. Ibad was struggling with an internal battle.

He couldn't believe what his mother informed him about the marriage proposal he sent to his childhood crush and his first love.

“Ibad, you don't know what she said.” His mother’s voice felt devastated and disappointed. “Rude… Disrespectful…Blurting out some nonsense. She is not the girl she used to be. She’s not for you, my son. Let her go. We'll find someone better.”

“Ammi, you don't know what my heart felt when I first saw her. She's the one, my heart spoke to me. I don't know why she said that. I'll talk to her myself.”

“You'll ruin yourself because of her, Ibad.” His mother said, worried.

“Ammi, if not her, then no one else could enter my life.” Ibad replied with a commitment.

“Ibad, son…”

This conversation replayed in his mind for long hours. Wiping his tears, he remembered the cute moments he shared with Kinza as a child. The coincidental dress color matching, his protectiveness when she played alone in the park, and sharing toys while playing, their same poses in photographs, and their dance sequence for a primary school programme.

The weight of those memories suffocated him after her rejection. For her, he changed himself into the man Kinza once dreamt of. Her prince charming. The rejection was a scar to all his hard work, working day and night for his business to build up and earn for her standard of living.

With a swift turn, he stopped his car, parking in front of a 3BHK house in Lavender colony at Outer West Bhopal.

His heart flattered with the memory lane at every corner of the location. From the first time his family shifted here to leaving after 8 years. From his first sight love to creating beautiful memories and bidding goodbyes with teary eyes. 

He smiled, remembering the times he made excuses just to meet her daily, be it food sent by his mother, sharing new games, or asking for help with homework. His elder cousins teased him with marriage with her, and that became his dream. 

But his dream didn't last long. Recalling what his mother expressed about her behaviour, he controlled his emotions and dialled her number,

“I’m outside. I need to speak with you.” He ended the call and saw her parents stepping out.

“Ibad, it's late. It would be better if you met her in the morning.” Her mother said gently.

“I’m sorry, Khala, but this cannot wait. I won't take long.” He looked at her father and promised.

Nodding his head, her father invited him in.

Ibad took a seat on the sofa in their meeting room. It was separated by curtains so that her parents could be around easily.

Kinza walked in. Face flushed with anger. 

“You really had the audacity to come here this late at night after I already made myself clear to your mother.” Eyebrows elevated, eyes sharp, boring inside him, and arms folded tightly over her chest. She did look different. Different from the innocence he saw in her childhood.

“Kinza..I…” He stood up, words failing to reach his tongue. Taking a deep breath, he asked, “I just want to know why?”

She chuckled, saying in a cold voice, “As if your mother has not informed you…” She side-eyed him.

“She didn't mention the details.” He informed her with the same rage.

“Then listen carefully, Mister.” Kinza began, her voice stronga nd loud. “You, being her son, is enough for me to reject you. Your ancestral bloodline is the reason for rejecting you.”

The poison in her voice activated the revengeful boiling blood in his veins.

“Kinza, you don’t speak about my elders like that.” He warned her.

“I talked with that same voice to your mother.” Kinza gritted her teeth, informing him. 

“Kinza!!” He shouted. Her parents entered the hall and stood by the curtains. Ibad looked at them and back at her. With a firm voice, he said,

“You were never like this.” His voice low. He held her by her shoulders and asked,

“Where is the innocent soul I fell in love with? The one whose cuteness made everything feel lighter? The one whose sweet voice cheered me up? The one my heart whispered as mine..? Where is she? What happened to my Kinza?” Ibad indirectly confessed to her. 

Realisation hit her eyes. All the past moments replayed from the memory files. For a second, Kinza’s heart softened. Her breathing calmed.

“Kinza, my mother is not like other evil mothers-in-law. She is the sweet one. Maybe something in the past is the basis of your conclusion, but after my father's death, she has softened. Please reconsider the marriage proposal. If you want, I can propose to you in the most beautiful fairytale version you want, a dreamy, nostalgic one. But please don't leave my life. Your existence near me was enough to breathe longer in this hardworking life. Please don't take this away from me. Please don't close this chapter painfully. Let's talk more and solve this.” Ibad kept blurting out what was on his mind. He became a baby in front of her, requesting her to stay. Kinza saw the shiny, teary eyes of Ibad. She knew his heart was crying. But his whole family created a dark imaginary aura around him, awakening Kinza.

“No…” She breathed out. Her parents gasped.

“Kinza?!” His voice sounded hurt calling her name.

“No. I reject your proposal again. If it weren't for your family, my answer might have been different.” Those words scarred his heart. For a second, he willed to leave his family and live with her. But how could a child leave his mother? 

Kinza continued after a pause, “I am not the person who compromises, and I don't want to do evil, vengeful acts. So, please leave and never return.” Kinza walked away. Last glimpse of her he could ever remember. 

A gasping, teary-eyed man looked at the door that separated him from his beautiful, dreamy future. 

Wiping his tears, he stepped out of the house and sat in his car. A reflection in the mirror made him look at her parents standing near the main door. His eyes looked at every corner where one or another memory of her held. His eyes went to the dark silhouette on the terrace. It was her. With a deep breath, he placed the keys and switched on the car. With glazy teary eyes, he drove away with a heavy heart and a questioning mind. He was not satisfied with the reason. What past did his family not reveal to him that cost Kinza's innocent soul? 

With unanswered questions and its numerous possibilities in mind, Ibad drove to his home in East Bhopal. His mother, Rumaila, welcomed him. Her smile faded the moment she saw his devastated face. 

“What happened, dear? You don’t look well.” She asked softly, stepping closer, her hands on his cheeks.

“Just work, Ammi.” Ibad wanted to get into details, but his soul saved some energy. Avoiding her eyes, he entered the house and said, “It was exhausting. I took a leave.” Rumaila hugged her son and passed him a glass of water. His gaze shifted to the living room. Ruqaiyya, his aunt, was seated on the couch observing him silently.

“So, what did she say?” Was the first question Ruqaiyya asked. Her eyes narrowed slightly, waiting for an answer.

“She said no.” His voice was flat.

“See, I told you. She was never worthy of this family.” Ruqaiyya said, leaning back, relaxed. 

“Yet you went after her. She doesn’t deserve you.” Ruqaiyya scolded him. Her smirk with dark kajal and sharp eyes portrayed her as an evil woman. 

“The reason is both of you.” Ibad looked at his Khala and his mother with red eyes.

“What nonsense..” His Khala stood up, her loud voice echoed, which made her son, Iqbal, run to them.

Rumaila asked her to calm down.

“Something in the past did happen. She wouldn’t have reacted like that without a reason.” Ibad’s statement made Ruqaiyya’s hands trembled. Rumaila stayed quiet. 

“ I saw confidence and determination in her eyes. That cannot lie.” He made another statement.  

Ruqaiyya eyed his son. Iqbal said, “You have gone mad in her love, Ibad. Let’s calm down.” 

“I want the answers, Bhai. She said she would have married me if it weren't for my family. What past incident am I unaware of that cost Kinza’s innocent soul? Do you know that, Bhai?” Ibad asked his cousin, who stayed silent. Ibad sat down in anger, his hands covering his face. The silent atmosphere felt dangerous.

“And if I remember correctly..” Ibad began, “We did leave that place within months of Abba’s accident, and Kinza’s father was ill that time. I couldn't stay with her when she needed a friend. I remember it clearly. Why did we shift? What happened back then?” Ibad stood up and asked, looking sharply at Ruqaiyya. He was indirectly blaming her.

“Ever since you came to stay with us, everything started to fall apart. Your entry into my life was a step closer to hell. What did you do back then?” Ibad gritted his teeth and asked.

“Ibad!! How could you say that to my mother?” Iqbal came in between them and asked. Anger was visible on his face.

“Have you lost your mind?” Iqbal held Ibad with his shoulders. Ibad looked at him with red, angry eyes.

“She has poisoned your mind…You don’t even know what you are saying.” Ruqaiyya shouted.

“Khala!!” Ibad replied in a loud voice. “Just Leave!” Ibad said, pointing at the door.

“Look, Rumaila, what has she done to our son? She is an evil witch.” Ruqaiyya snapped.

“Ibad, that's wrong.” Rumaila quickly stepped in, holding his arm before things went further. 

“Come..” She said, quietly leading him away.

“This isn’t over.” Ibad replied to his mother, snapping his arm away from her hold.  

After he slept, Rumaila went to her room and saw Ruqaiyya reciting some verses. Seeing her younger sister weep, Ruqaiyya couldn't help but say, “It's time.” 

The cold breeze, the sounds of the waves of Lake hitting its bank, the dazzling starlights, and a man drinking chilled Fanta. The weather was elegant, but this man's heart was not. It was gloomy and revengeful.

Ibad rode to Lake View after waking up from his nap to view the sunrise. All events that happened replayed in his mind. With anger, he twisted the Fanta can and threw it towards the dustbin. He smirked,

“Nice shot.”

Ibad stood up and recalled hearing the conversation between his mother and Khala.

“Why are you crying for that rude witch? Why can’t you understand she cannot be your daughter-in-law?”

“Baji, Ibad loves her..It's love at first sight. How can I break his dream?” Rumaila replied, wiping her tears that flew like a river.

“She didn't even consider Ibad’s love, he had for years.. And all those vengeful, poisonous words she blurted out to you, it's a relief that we are saved from this snake. You should thank the Almighty for this. He saved our lives.” Ruqaiyya caressed her back.

“Look how beautiful my daughter-in-law, Gulnaz, is. I'll find you one soon. Now, stop crying...” Ruqaiyya held her helpless sister's hand.

“Now it's her turn…” Ibad smiled. 

Throwing the can into the dustbin with a sharp clang felt like his final goodbye to Kinza. Somewhere in his heart, he knew he couldn’t go against his mother even if his Khala did something wrong. After all, she had kept his mother safe and cared for while he was away for his studies and job. He understood now that Kinza could never be his. 

But he was eager to find the answers to the secrets his family hid from him. He was determined to uncover the truth. Something about his father’s death and Kinza’s father’s chronic illness stirred his instincts. He felt it was tied to the rejection. Something unsettling felt in his heart.

As the bright light of the full moon fell over him, he knew time would eventually answer all his questions. But for now, he had to move on. He let Kinza free from his heart and love and rode back home.

2 years later

Rumaila was happy while cooking her son's favourite chicken korma and biryani. Her daughter-in-law, Naima, was helping her in the kitchen. The house was filled with the laughter of Ibad and the newborn, Kashaf. Ibad was playing with her, and Kashaf’s giggling sounds spread happiness all around.

Kinza was out of his life. He moved on. Ruqaiyya brought Naima’s marriage proposal within months of that incident, to which Ibad agreed without even thinking twice. Within months of marriage, Ibad was pulled out of the dark depressive phase into the world of happy blossoms. The calmness and coolness of Naima created a home in Ibad's heart. Watching the bright smile and laughter of her son brought relief to Rumaila’s heart. 

All Rumaila prayed for was wellness, and never let an evil eye ruin the joyful life of his son and his family.

Naima was scrolling through her chats when a wedding invitation from her collegemate caught her eyes. He has been like a brother from another mother to her. Helping her in every way possible, creating a special corner in her heart. There was no way she could miss his wedding.

The message read,

“Don't miss my wedding. I want you to meet my wife. Your bhabhi is, finally, here.” She smiled and replied,

“I'll be there.”

She walked into Ibad's office and asked,

“Can we go to Hamid’s wedding, please?”

“Wow, Hamid is getting married.” Ibad became friends with Hamid during his own wedding and felt happy for him.

"Of course, we will attend. What are the dates?”

“This weekend..” The smile on Ibad's face faded as he showed her the notification about an upcoming meeting abroad. The excitement in Naima dimmed, but Ibad’s next words lifted her spirits again.

“You should go with Ammi. She hasn't been out lately. It will cheer her up.” 

Nodding, Naima left his office to pack.

At the airport, two flights left in the opposite direction. One carried Ibad abroad, away from his family, for an important meeting, while the other took Naima to a wedding that he would have to miss.

On the flight, Ibad absentmindedly scrolled through his messages before the flight announcement, when the invitation card caught his attention. Kinza. The bride’s name. His chest tightened.

Within seconds, he knew he couldn’t attend the meeting. Without further delay, he walked out of the flight, booked another one to the wedding destination, Bangalore.

to be continued