Unexpectedly

4 | Aisha

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"Kaise keh deti thi ik din bichar jaayeinge hum aur tum,

Dhoond nikaloon ga main tumko, jahaan bhi hojao gi ghum."

-Naustalgia (Mahi) by Abrar-ul-Haq.

Musa

I had been in my room at the haveli, lying on my back on the bed, thinking about the girl in the floral dupatta flying a kite for the first time. Since my room lights were turned off and the curtains pushed away from the window, I saw the headlights. Zee was home and so were his parents, and this wasn't exactly a time for visitors in the village. My curiosity got the better of me and I walked to the window. I saw the silhouette of the man in the headlights and I recognised him instantly.

I hadn't expected my father to show up. He loathed this village. The last time we'd come here was when I was still a kid, and when Dado had been seriously ill.

"Assalam Alaikum." I went downstairs and approached him, using my torch light as a guidance. 

The guard had opened the gate and I stepped through.

"Walaikum Assalam, Musa." He turned to face me. Reaching out, he pulled me into an embrace.

"What are you doing here, Dad?" I asked.

"You came here. You left me no choice, Musa." With still-thick locks of salt and pepper hair, a stubble and the well-groomed appearance of a successful neurosurgeon that he was, Dad did not look his age.

"You know I have been searching for answers, and that search brought me back here." 

Wearing black trousers and a white button-down shirt with sleeves rolled up to his elbows, he turned away from me again and walked to the car. "Come with me to Islamabad, Musa. We need to talk."

"What about Dado?" I followed him. "You can't just ignore her. She's your mother! She doesn't deserve this coldness, Dad." My jaw clenched. "And I'm here to find out about my mother. You may not care about yours, but I care about mine...also someone you don't care about." 

"Don't cross your limits, Musa. You have no idea what you're talking about." He spoke from between gritted teeth.

"Then tell me! Tell me what the hell is this big mystery?" I ran my hands through my hair in frustration. "What happened to Mum?" 

*

Syra

I Googled their names, together and individually: Aisha and Farid Duraid.

There were too many results, and no results relating to the keyword 'Khwabpur'.

"I'm going to lose the remainder of my mind like this." I groaned. "Musa Duraid, you better have answers to quench my curiosity."

Or to quench something...

My eyes widened. "What the hell, Syra?" I snapped at myself out loud. My cheeks turned warm, and I couldn't help picturing him flying a kite. Never thought I'd find someone flying a kite attractive.

Shut up and do what you came here to do.

I picked up my phone and messaged Jannah.

<Syra: Hey. Won't be going to Khwabpur tomorrow. I'm working on bringing the project together. Why don't you take a day off as well? Or if you want, just come by and help me out.>