Miscellany Of Desi Tadka

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"Salar I want nothing from life except you." She sobbed for him holding his hand in hers. Faiqa kept a hand on her shoulder soothing her. She caressed her hair lightly, tucking a strand of her ruffled mess.

"Have some Sabr beta. He will be fine soon," she assured, wiping her daughter's tears. Her mouth was clogged from the continuous cry and hiccups didn't make it better. She gave her mother a curt nod.

"Come on shabash, get up now and have some fruits. Anxiety and lack of food are not good for your health."

She looked into her mother's eyes. Health? Does she want it when her husband on the other hand is fighting for his own?

She shook her head, "No Mummy, how can I eat when he hasn't for days. The mere Glucose bottles are keeping him alive."

"Amal, he is not doing this deliberately. If he knew you hadn't eaten something, do you think he would have talked to you?"

She shook her head.

"Then? And you need food not only for yourself but for your unborn child as well."

Wildan stood there afar witnessing the exchange of perceived words.

Years of sedulity to minutes phoenix

A harsh cinch passed his skin as he stepped the leather shoes on the veridity of Bermuda Grass. It is said very well that at the bottom of the mirthful lyrics are the cryptic tales of the eon. But what can he do for he has become her hostage?

I am a hostage of your ground even if my creepers prosper over the wall

A sojourn chortle was left into space. Poetry has been his place of exile ever since he was four summers but here when he stood after twenty more it has become nothing except to patch crevasse with clothing of flora.

After Wildan left for Bradford a proposal came for Amal. Salar Yousef was a young man of twenty and five more. In just a count of years, he was promoted from a hard-working newbie to a smart, charming, and succeeding lawyer of the giant law firm with the support of his family. It was not like Wildan didn't love his adopted parents but it was just that he had a void in his Qalb for his parents which couldn't be filled to the brim by the ever so loving Sikanders. Salar existed in power, beauty, and everything a girl would desire. Being from a family where there were military men he was always used to being a gentleman. Oh how much Wildan hated it, he had everything, everything he wanted.

But wasn't or only he felt it.

Pandemic brought a harsh reality to the world and him. Amal was soon married to Salar within less than a month of the betrothal in the presence of twenty people from both sides. The reason was the vindictive covid-19 that slathered its wind everywhere because of which Wildan was stuck at Bradford. His parents knew it would be perilous for him to travel overseas so they kept this marriage cryptic. Salar's grandmother always remained feverish because of age-old disease. She wanted to see the Nikah of her youngest grandson so it was arranged in a hurry. Wildan felt rage, deceived, and dead inside out. He regretted keeping his feelings uptill himself.

"Wildan?" He meekly turned to the direction of voice so that nobody could see his sluggish outlines.

"Wildan beta?"

"Jee Mummy!"

(Yes Mummy.)

"Beta khana to khalo aur Amal ko bhi khila do. Bacche ka sawal hai. Dekho to zara ye ladki apna dhyan hi nahi rakhte."

(Son, go have your food and also make Amal eat. The question is about the child. See, this girl doesn't take care of herself.)

He sighed, Amal was three months pregnant and wasn't eating anything out of agony. She was becoming skin and bones every passing day which made a deep frown appear on his face.