We Were Restless Things

7. Closest are the Furthest

"Kisi ke itne paas ho

Ke saab se duur hogaye"

~ Ajeeb Daastaan Hai Yeh (Lata Mangeshkar)

𝄗𝄗𝄗𝄗♞𝄗𝄗𝄗𝄗

It was around midday when Afra had her hands on the file. Bakht had sent it to the office, directly as instructed. With more binders packed in her bag and arms, she headed towards Haveli where Rabail planned to have her office for the day.

Stepping out of the car, the warm sun caused sweat to form on her fair forehead. Some stands from her high ponytail stuck. Her light chestnut hair glazed teasing the sun. She paced with her hands filled with documents, papers, invites, and whatnot. Feeling her arms going numb with the pressure of the files, she sighed sensing the hustle and bustle of Khanum's life. Even being her Personal Secretary was taxing for poor Afra, imagine being Rabail herself. She would be damned if she didn't go bonkers.

There were tough days, worse days, taxing days; nevertheless, both loved their jobs. Rabail served the people while Afra assisted her. The sisterly bond was not confined within the four walls of the Haveli only.

Picking up her pace, she strolled through the familiar interiors. Nodding her heads to the greetings of helpers, smiling at a few. Her mind was listing down the order of the things to be reported as she entered the private wings. The Haveli had two wings- the private one for the family members and the central wing which basically housed balls, parties, public parlors for welcoming the guests.

"Salam, Chote Sahib" she heard as she walked past the attached balcony. Cocking her head, her mind mulled 'Ifran?'

Changing her course, she entered the balcony through the opened brass patio doors. A golden-mirror tray with a pair of cups and saucer was placed on the tea-table. The helper was attentively filling a cup with tea for his Huzuur. Ifran placed himself on a chair adjacent to the table.

His smouldered honey-chocolate eyes were covered with shades, hair was tousled as if the strands were repeatedly being run through by his rough hands. His light tanned skin kissed the inviting rays as he leaned his head back and allowed the long toned legs to stretch to its full extent. His inky beard glimmered and covered his sharp jawline. The top few buttons of his shirt were open, giving off a nonchalant look to the man while rolled up sleeves of his baby blue shirt gave a full display of his angular forearms and pounding veins.

"Salam, Choti Begum Sahiba" hearing the helper, Ifran tilted his head towards the door. Seeing Afra, he passed her a smile which she returned.

"Hey Afra." he motioned her to come and take a seat on the abandoned chair across him. The helper, without a sound, excused himself, with a bowed head. Shaking her head in negative, she replied "Can't, Ifran. Duty calls." Motioning to her occupied arms, she passed him an apologetic smile.

"You need to wait up a bit actually. Rabe has gone off to the orphanage a few minutes back." Ifran informed her.

"Saab khairiyat?" (Everything alright?)Her mind went searching for any possible appointment or event regarding the orphanage. None could be found and she would hardly miss anything regarding Rabail's schedule. Moreover, if it was about the orphanage she would definitely not miss a word of it, for that place was from where her Abbu had picked her from after the Khans took over the authority.

Yes, Afra Maham Khan was not blood-related to any of the Khans. Yet, their bond was one shared with love and soul. The amount of fondness shown on her never allowed her to think of herself as someone just brought to this Haveli as a frail three-year-old child who could count the number of meals she had with her tiny fingers.