The Dawn Is On Us

C H A P T E R 4 1

L E A V I N G the place they had come to call home for well over six years now, Munazza could not help but feel like she had failed everything she ever worked for. Her heart beat rapidly inside her chest. She was reluctant on leaving. Looking back at the tall building, that stood with an undefined elegance, her heart felt empty. Had it really come down to this? Were they going back to the tiny dirty streets they had come from?

Her son, was jobless. Who would give him a job? He did not have an impressive resume. It was Mustafa who had pitied them. And they had manipulated his emotions all this time. Was it worth it? Why had the put material needs over emotional? Had they treat Mustafa well, they would not have had to see this day.

The large white van, was filled to the brim with cardboards. Their luggage and small trinkets they had purchased packed up. Mustafa had been generous enough to give them whatever was in their rooms. Including the furniture. He had no use of it all. He would have Hoor redecorate the place.

Munazza eyes the workers as they brought out the plush floor cushions from her bedroom. Holding the expensive cushion in a tight grip. It was made of the softest cottons. Nothing brought her more relief than to sit on it after a day full of hardwork. They were covered in a black case. Decorated with  fine thread embroidery. Little sitaris stitched on top.

Her gut clenched. As they sat in the car, borrowed from Mustafa. It was the last time they would ever sit inside such an expensive car. Its cherry smell and dark leather interior, all reminded Munazza of how different she was. How she had claimed a life that was never truly hers. The riches she dreamt of, were borrowed.

Her subconscious taunted her. For marrying a man who was not worth anything. When both the brothers had been given their inheritance, the elder made an empire, while she and her husband had used it on partying and enjoying. Not caring to make a secure future.

Her jeth and jethani lived a very tough life. Not spending a single extra penny. And she would always make fun of them. But they kept silent. They knew that they would have a better life one day. And that they did. Now their son was the owner of such a huge empire. While hers, he could only hang out with the awara boys of the streets.

The car stopped at the start of the narrow street. The driver turning to them,
"Yahan sai agai gaari nahi jaye gi. Ap ko paidal jana paray ga".
The ignition turned off. The driver waited a few minutes for the family to give them a reaction. Upon seeing they were all frozen, he repeated himself.

"Chalo naklein!" Abdul Rehman gritted.
At least he had been smart enough to not sell this place when they had moved out.

The movers were already there. All the furniture off loaded. They had been waiting for the owners to arrive.
"Zara jaldi kardein. Agai bhi jana hai," one of the burly looking men spoke.
His voice unable to conceal the displeasure.

Abdul Rehman nodded his head. Opening the out dated door. The door squeaked, stuck halfway. It was obvious that the door had not been oiled for quite a few years. He sighed. Using some force to push it open. The sight that awaited them, made them gag. The floors were full of mud and dirt. Dead leaves from their neighbours home had fallen into the small garage. Bird poop on the windows.

As they unlocked the door that led into the tv lounge, Munazza gasped. The place was just like how they left it. The chair, Shahrukh was sitting on, still pulled out. The dishes from breakfast on the wooden dining table. It was like a time capsule had been opened. Everything was untouched. A lot of dust gathered everywhere.

"Saman idhr hi rakh do," Shahrukh ordered.
Paying them, adding a generous tip. Still not acknowledging that he did not have all the money in the world at his disposal. This spendthrift personality, inherited from both his parents.

"Yeh jaga kitni gandi hai!" Rumaisa threw a silent tantrum.
How would they live in a place that was so disgusting. It would obviously need to be cleaned. But who would do it? Her family could not hire a maid. And she would not be caught dead touching such dirty surfaces.

"Saaf tou karni paray gi na!" Munazza put down her foot.
It would be better if all of them got used to this life. This is what they would be calling home from today onwards.

JEWELLERY SHOP
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Mustafa entered the showroom. The golden lights reflecting from all the displayed sets. Making him gasp in awe. A jewelry shop was truly any woman's dream. His assistant had provided him the important information that they needed. His wheelchair's sound resonated in the mostly empty showroom.

The manager sat on a desktop. Watching old Indian movies. Enjoying the short time he had before the rush hour began. Upon seeing a man dressed so finely, he immediately stood up. Bowing his head in respect.

"Assalamualikum sir. Kia dekhna chahein gai ap?" He inquired with utmost respect.
"Iss tarikh ki CCTV footage," Mustafa pushed forward a piece of paper.
The manager, a through professional, had difficulty not staring at his wheelchair. He sighed. Just yesterday a man had come and annoyed them to give the footage. Nodding his head, not putting up a fight, he retrieved the recording.
"Sahab hum detay nahi par yeh poloce case hai isiliye de raha hun," he played the video.

It was a clear recording of his late brother-in-law selling the bangles that had caused so much trouble to his wife. Unfortunately, he could not do anything now. Ali was no more, and to pursue it would be a waste of time.

"Yeh jo karay hain, apke paas hain?" Mustafa inquired.
He wanted to buy them. And return them to his ex- best friend. Mustafa had never imagined their friendship would come down to such a state like this. Where it would be nothing but a string of memories.
"Ji. Lata hun?" The man retrieved a velvet box.
He opened it, to reveal the exact same bangles as the ones that had gone missing.
"Yeh pack kardein. Bill bana dein," Mustafa softly instructed.
The manager nodded, surprised to have sold them so soon.

Mustafa stepped out with the bag inside his hands. Tomorrow was his Rizwan and Rumaisa's Baraat. It was time to pay a visit to his beloved cousin and her husband. And make them understand the power he had.

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