Once In A Blue Moon

07 Rebellious

I am surprised at the man who searches for his lost item, while he has lost his own soul and does not search for it.

— Imam Ali

☾

What is human mind but a trap? Never satiated, always greedy, wanting to have more than what's bestowed upon the soul. Is it not nature, if not always then mostly? Is this not how the world functions, with wrecked people, devastatingly dangerous to the point of ready to consume their own flesh? But sadly, never satisfied.

This is how she has always seen things to be, in the havoc of desires losing the true meaning of life, until life is only a process to exist through without actually being felt or lived through. She has seen people in different shades, until the brightest of their shades dulled to the dead of the night, when they've to become wicked when destiny no longer favors them. Then how can she be any different in her struggles? Circumstances can very well make people bitter, if not always then mostly.

She has been another prey of life. Then how can she be blamed for fighting for herself?

Banafsha stares at the wedding ring lying on her open palm, simple and not fancy to her, something she cannot imagine to wear on her finger and carry around proudly. She clasps it tightly and rests her head back on the couch, closing her eyes.

Unlucky guy, whoever he is, was about to be trashed.

The words of the man she met on the airport play in her head over and over again. Unlucky guy? She thinks. Aurang might be unlucky to be stuck in her family affairs, but so is she. She doesn't know the cost of freeing herself from him, but she knows the price he must pay at the hands of her father and brother isn't going to be small; their ruthlessness might devour him.

"Afsha?"

She opens her eyes and turns to see Zoraiz settling beside her on the couch. He places a tray on the center table, having tea and treats, and smiles at her.

"What are you thinking, sis?"

She pushes herself up to sit straighter. "Nothing significant."

"You've been quiet," he points out and she just shrugs, reaching for a tea cup and taking a sip.

"Your apartment is small," she comments, looking around his living room before back at him. "I thought baba must've provided a better place for you. My bathroom at home is bigger than your living room."

Zoraiz's smile falters as he raises up both eyebrows and chuckles sheepishly. "Yeah, well, but I don't mind the place. It's cozy."

"But I do mind it." Banafsha places the cup back on the tables and tucks her legs beneath her, facing him fully now. "It has only two rooms. Could've worked for you when you were living alone-- I don't know how you still adjusted in this confined space though-- but definitely not for both of us."

Zoraiz sighs and picks up his own cup, taking a sip of his tea. "Unfortunately, my budget cannot afford a luxury penthouse for us, sis." He holds out the plate to her. "Pastries?"

She frowns. "Of course you can't afford it, but baba can. I'll ask Mughis lala to arrange a better place for us. He offered to me before coming here that if I need anything, I just need to ask them."

"Suit yourself." Zoraiz places the plate between them on the couch. "I'm not going anywhere from this apartment."

"You aren't?" Banafsha blinks in surprise. "But why?"

"Because I love it."

"This rat-hole?"

Zoraiz disapprovingly looks at her. She notices the muscles of his jaw clench but his voice remains calm when he replies, "Yes, because it's my home."