Gunnah e Shab

37. Happiness • خوشی

"I think we deserve a soft epilogue, my love, we both are good people and have suffered enough." — seventy years of sleep.

Ten years later.

Torrential downpour. Broken twigs and fallen leaves. Dense rain with zero visibility. Flooding puddles and broken roads, the moon out of sight. A charcoal sky covered the land of Muskhpur, vipers running at maddening speeds to keep the rapid rain off of the windshield—all in vain. It was too strong for the thin vipers to fight. Horns and lights flickered in the crowded streets as vendors cleared up their goods from street. Taking cover under whatever seemed safe. Even the thin straw roofs mattered, keeping the chilly air of December at bay.

Time was inching forward, the year turning anew. The clock struck midnight and no fireworks followed. All the plans for a grand welcome of the new year, washed away by the rain. The windows rattled as hail followed and crashed against the thick glass. Lights turning on, one after the other inside the Khan residence. Cries of pain ran through the otherwise silent living room. A tired Laila sat on the mint sofa, wrapped in a thick shawl and black clothes, her hair fell over her shoulders and sweat covered her forehead. Her full lips were engaged in prayer short screams and groan escaped her lips every now and then. Azmaray sat by her side, his hand rubbing her hands whilst he stared at Zaeem, who was busy calling the paramedics.

"Fuck! None of the ambulances are picking up. It's a mad storm out there, it's going to be impossible for anyone to drive up to the estate," he spoke.

A ten year old girl clung to the back of Ayna's legs. Staring at her aunt from behind her mother's warmth. Zyna Zaeem, was born ten years ago on the eve of the summer equinox. The sky had been bright and the air had been still. Birds were chirping, music to human ears when she came into the world. She was an exact copy of her father, with her hazel eyes filled with his conviction and inky black hair that curled at the ends. She winced as her beloved aunt muffled her cries, rubbing the bulge under her shawl.

"Zyna my love you should be in bed," Ayna turned and knelt infront of her.

"The storm scared me. I want to sleep with you," she rubbed her eyes.

"How about I put you to sleep in Anbar tayima's room?" [Father's elder brother's wife] Ayna kissed her forehead.

"Okay. But will Laila khala be okay?" [Mother's sister] she peeked behind her mother's shoulder.

"Ji meri jaan bas aap ja kar soyein, aur Allah sai dua karein," [Yes my life you just go and sleep, and pray to Allah,] she replied.

Zyna nodded, jumping into her mother's arms who carried her upstairs. Anbar had developed a headache and slept early. All of them had agreed to not wake her up, after all it was going to be of no use anyways. Ayna knocked on the door and a sleepy Asghar pulled it open. Looking at her worried face and Zyna's tired one he immediately understood the matter and took her niece from her arms. Kissing the little girl on her hair, he put her in between himself and his wife.

"Asghar tayaabu, mujhe dar lag raha hai," [Asghar (father's elder brother), I am scared,] she whispered.

Asghar tucked the tiny elfin child under his arm, humming a soft lullaby and dropping kisses on her brow every now and then. Falling asleep himself a short while later, the tiredness catching up. Meanwhile downstairs, panic ensued as Laila's labour pushed on with no signs of any help. She felt herself slip between consciousness and unconsciousness. Her jaw ached and her tounge hurt from crying. Slumping herself against Azmaray's front she took deep breaths. Stilling her shaky body, trying to curb the pain from filling in her veins once more.