| Hawaaon Ke Paighaam | Messages Of The Wind

| Paris |

Kadam se, kadam jo milay

To phir saath, hum tum chalay

Chalay saath hum tum jahan,

Wahin pe banay kaafilay

Mon Amor...

The cars raced along the sand dunes just outside of Doha, leaving a cloud of sand in their wake. They came to a stop in-front of a pair of lavish maroon tents just as dusk was about to fall. Lanterns illuminated the area, hanging from the numerous sheets of soft cloth making up the body of the tent. The driver doors of the two SUV's in the front opened whilst the jeeps behind them circled the area and came to stop a few meters away. Murtasim exited his SUV clad in off-white. His light cotton shirt buttoned halfway, with the sleeves rolled up, he was ready for a relaxing evening in the desert.

Next to him, Omar exited the second SUV and signalled the staff behind him to start making arrangements for dinner. It was evenings like these where the two tycoons could take a step back from their hectic lives and feel like themselves again. Almost like the two young men they had been in university many years ago. As they settled on the cushioned seating area on the floor inside their tent, Omar leaned back and cracked the kinks in his neck, releasing a tired groan.

"What I wouldn't do to have a wife right now" he muttered humorously

"What exactly would a wife do that the staff can't?" Murtasim questioned with a raised eyebrow

"Besides the obvious?" Omar quipped, grinning and slowly feeling his weariness fade away

Murtasim laughed, reclining back on the soft cushions and taking out a packet of cigarettes from his back pocket. Taking one, he offered Omar the packet, who took it without question.

"Well for one, she'd be able to massage this bloody knot in my neck." Omar continued. "Aren't wives supposed be good at those kinds of things?"

"I wouldn't know" Murtasim uttered wryly, whilst lighting the cigarette hanging out of the side of his mouth. Taking a long drag of the cigarette, Murtasim looked up at the intricate patterns on the ceiling of the tent and then closed his eyes.

"Trust me, no amount of massages are worth the trouble that comes with a wife" Murtasim drawled, eyes still shut and smoke blowing out from his mouth.

It was now Omar's turn to raise an eyebrow. "Are you sure, because this knot is really starting to piss me off." He joked after a beat, keeping the mood deliberately light.

Murtasim looked at his friend then, and the two exchanged a look of understanding.

"Ready for Paris tomorrow?" Omar asked, changing the topic, to which Murtasim gave a nod.

Some things were best not discussed. Especially not when the evening was about forgetting their problems for a while.

The early morning Karachi sun was somewhat gentle, its rays falling on the windscreen of the car carrying a sleepy Meerab Ahmed. Not one for early mornings, she sat cosied up in the back-seat, lost in her hazy thoughts.

This must be what dedication felt like, she wondered. She had never gotten up this early off her own will. Maybe this flight-attendant program was a step in the right direction after all. It was too soon to tell, but then anything was better than the alternative. One she didn't even like thinking about. Her reasons may sound completely unhinged to an outsider, but she was willing to be considered crazy if it meant somehow retaining her freedom and prevent herself from actually going crazy in a world she didn't belong in.