23. Fear || ڈر

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Meri rooh ka parinda phadphadae Liken sukoon ka jazeera mil na paaye

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Meri rooh ka parinda phadphadae
Liken sukoon ka jazeera mil na paaye

میری رو کا پرندہ پھڑپھڑاۓ
لیکن سکون کا جزیرہ مل نہ پاۓ

The servants pulled the curtain of Dad's office windows to the side and the room filled itself with the nebulous blaze of golden rays. The warm, blue beginnings of afternoon painted the sky and the sun shone brightly. An irksome silence enveloped the room and apart from the gentle tapping of fingers at the keyboard the room was awfully still, all eyes glued to the team of forensics analysts analysing the documents in front of them.

After a long and intense effort, the head of the team rubbed his beard thoughtfully, his features still and ambiguous before he looked up and met the impatient and troubled gaze of my father. Skepticism shone from the precincts of his eyes and he adjusted his glasses carefully, before he spoke in a measured tone, "Are you sure you had the originals with you? You might want to rechec—"

"Of course these are the originals; we had them with us," father stormed at him angrily, his eyebrows raised sharply with irritation and in warning. Mother patted his shoulder softly, and slowly his expression turned benign and calm. He sucked in a resigned sigh before he spoke again, "We are very sure the documents are original. What do you have to say?"

"Abdullah Sahab, we've thoroughly examined these documents, these are duplicates, not the originals. I can say this with 99% surety. If you do not have the originals, perhaps the person who leaked the information about these properties has them." He cleared his throat before pushing the pieces of paper towards my father. "Unfortunately you cannot do anything unless you have the originals with you."

As time sped in the breathing silence of the room the tension grew on our nerves and dad fell back into the couch with a defeated sigh. A diaphanous cloud of chaos had floated eerily over our mansion this past week, throwing everything in a frenzied outburst of madness and confusion. Despite the berserk panic that ensured my grandfather was the only one who had maintained a mask of sanity and some semblance of calm.

The situation took a turn for the worse, when rumours of Ibrahim Taya's arrest warrants being issued began doing rounds and after much thought it was decided, until the situation settled down, he'd leave for the safety of London. He left two days ago, but teams of lawyers, legal experts, advisors, bureaucrats and party members continued to frequent the house.

After the men left the room, I could feel dad's face harden and he pinched the bridge of his nose with a resigned sigh. "Whoever planned this, planned well." His usually dark composed eyes beleaguered with fear and worry. "The files have been stolen." Impassiveness slipped though his tone, but his jaw clenched in irritation. "How do you tamper with evidence, when you do not have the evidence to begin with," he muttered inaudibly, annoyance peeking through in his tired voice.

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