۰09۰ Reject/مسترد

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بے رخی سے جو دل توڑ دیتے ہیں جوش
ان کے پیار کے گیت گاتے ھیں ہم

Sahar sipped occasionally on her tea as her eyes didn't stray away from the view the dingy window in her room provided. It was still before dawn. The sky was painted in light blues and birds would chirp here and there. The melody was lovely as always. To her, it failed to produce any calming effect. Contrarily to the calmed and paused environment surrounding her, her insides were a raging storm. She was stuck between a rash sea. The waves would collide with each other harshly and with force. There was no stopping the seeds of doubts that were growing each day, each minute and each second in her mind. Her heart was a blazing inferno while her mind was numb. She was unaware of how to handle whatever the turmoil that roared so easily in her.

It was terrifying.
Unbelievable.

She is Sahar. The girl who has her life pictured before her eyes. She has the best control on her emotions. Nothing can easily get to her mind. Seemed like Zaviyar's hostility and unimaginably cruel behaviour changed the dynamics of her personality. She was never the one to dwell on useless thoughts and ideas. She thrived on logic. Not sentiments. However, she spent the night worrying out of her mind. There were probably bags underneath her eyes. All night, she tossed and turned to find a comfortable position to sleep in. To find peace of mind. A confirmation that never came. She lay there for hours, unmoving, waiting for the lure of darkness to consume her. Eventually, her exhaustion took over and finally sleep came to her.

No matter, it was only for a couple or more hours. She wasn't greedy.

The sun finally rose from the east and bathed the neighbourhood in soft daylight. It wasn't hot. It was warm. Like a mother's embrace. It won't be wrong to call it Mother Nature's embrace.

"Tum jag rehi hu?"
(You're awake)

Sahar turned her neck upon the voice of her mother. She stood outside her door draped in a large lawn shawl.

"Hmm." Sahar replied absentmindedly. She finished her tea and sat straight as her mother approached her.

"What's wrong, doll?"

She almost melted at the honeyed tone her mother used along with the affectionate term of endearment. Her frail hands leisurely ran over her head. The gesture touched her heart and she just wanted to curl up in her mother's lap and never put her head up.

"What's wrong? You've been really stressed out these days. Tell me, beta."

She didn't reply for a second. Analyzing her options, she sighed. There was no way she could hide anything from her mother. So trying to would be futile. This was inevitable. She curled up in her lap and said

"I had a fight with Zaviyar." Her words came out hesitant and mushy. She didn't want her mother worrying unnecessarily. But something was nagging at her heart. Some kind of a premonition.

"About what?" Her mother's voice was bare of any emotion. Even if she was feeling anything, she was really good at hiding it.

"Just some stuff. He was already angry. And I think..he kind of lashed out on me."

Tanzila stopped the movements of her hand and it was a cue for Sahar to put her head up.

"It's alright. Fights happen all the time. It's the effort of making it up that matters. Not the fight."

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