Deewani

پہلا باب

Chapter 1

Safa was surrounded by a sea of people. She felt herself getting lost in the crowd. The sellers and buyers having a the usual fights on "unacceptable prices". It was a hot June evening. Ramdan was about to start. The women were out of their houses to get their hands on the best produce before the holy month began.

The gazes full of hatred were not missed by Safa. Women cleared her path and drew their children close to them. Men were hesitant to sell her anything. The small streets of Rang Mahal were crowded by people. The sidewalks were filled by a shoal of bangle sellers. The vibrant reds and soft blue hues clouded the atmosphere. Voices and shouts could be heard to the other end of the world

Safa , made her way through the streets to a tanga , the man who was driving her refused to look at her and dropped her 50meters away from her house. Clutching her bags of spices and vegetables, she made her way through Heera Mandi. Taking each step softly yet firmly , her gaze lowered as if her feet were the most interesting thing in the world.

Men who usually entered her street to buy women looked at her with lusty eyes. Making Safa's skin crawl with disgust. She rushed herself to reach her house. Not the most safest place but it was home. Men catcalled her asking her what her price was. While women who were visiting the place to meet relatives hurled abuses at her. With sentences like "Randi ki aulad" being a common.

Tears dripped from her brown chocolate eyes and dripped down her nose bridge. A man tried to pull her duppata from her neck which she immediately grabbed. Yet during these events she had let go of her bags that fell with a thud. It was due to the pressure with which they were thrown that caused most fruits to squish.

Running the remaining way back , Safa entered her small house. The door opened infront of a staircase , with triangular steps making patterns. To the right of the door was an opening that lead to the lounge. The lounge was filled with sofas of a dark blue shade with hints of golden on it. There was a door in the lounge that opened in the street as well. Right next to the lounge was a small washroom. That was house to many spiders and lizards. The stairs led to the first floor. On the stairs was a huge wooden door that opened into the first floor. Right infront of it was a small charpai. Whereas to the left was the kitchen. At the right was a small room , filled with trunks of clothes and cutlery.

There were more stairs. Leading to the second floor. It had a huge room with four charpais. And a few more trunks. Lastly there were small stairs that led to the rooftop. The windows all opened into the street. The house was painted mainly in a light teal color with the occasional streaks of cream. The street was broken , and water resided in most of it. Her house was one of the simpler ones.

There were large houses on the end of the street. Safa was usually home alone. Her mother Aisha Begum was a very famous prostitute. She almost always had clients to deal with. Hence spent most of her time at the harlot. Most people she knew called her a spitting image of her mother. But she could not find any resemblance. While her mother had blue eyes - inherited from her Kashmiri background- Safa had average brown eyes. Instead of brown Safa had luscious black locks that were almost always wrapped in a bun or a braid. Her lips were plump and pink like her mother. This and her slight tan complexion was the only feature of hers that was alike to that of her mother.

She was the daughter of a prostitute , so was naturally expected to follow into her moms profession. Yet Safa held onto her crumbling self-respect and taught young girls kathak. She did not earn much , since most of her students belonged to families of poor people. Yet it was during the month of Ramdan that she made a lot. Her hands were skilled when it came to the art of applying henna. So many people belonging to the elite families asked her to fill their hands with color.

Safa entered the kitchen to prepare dinner. But remembering the events of the evening her heart broke. The food that she had bought was the last she had for this month. Her "papa" who was a rich nawab was yet to send her money. Most of what she earned was given as rent to her mother's pimp. While her mother's money was spent to fulfill Aisha's wishes. Safa sighed and headed to her bead. She looked at her tattered pajama and the shirt was almost coming apart at the seams. Raising her hand for prayer she prayed that this time on eid she would have new clothes.

The badshah of Lahore empire sat on the prayer mat. His eyes gazed at the beautiful sunset. How the orange mixed with purples made him realize the power of the real king ,Allah. Aahil prayed to his god to lead him to the right path. Finishing his prayers he entered the dining room. The table was set with hundreds of different dishes. Each one presenting a new way to cook meat. Yet his eyes were only on the biryani. They yellow - orange rice with lemon and cloves sitting on top. The golden chicken was seen buried under millions of rice   

After Aahil had filled his stomach he ordered the food to be distributed amongst the poor. And made his way to the side of the palace where his mother and sisters resided. His wife would however, live in the room same as his.

Aahil had not even entered the room properly when his youngest sister Alina started telling him a list of things she wanted. Aahil was no doubt the one who was blessed with beautiful features. His brown eyes shaped like delicate almonds shined like pools of honey in the sunlight. His tan skin had a glow to it. And tall height, chiseled jaw and body , a small beard were just a few of the features that mad him look absolutely ethereal. His sisters too were beauties.

"Bhai this time we want that famous henna designer.... ugh whats her name.... yes uh- Safa. We want Safa." 

Shaking his head in affirmative he told his sisters that they would surely get Safa this year and they need not worry their heads.

He entered his own bedchamber. The huge bed in the centre that had a curtain hanging on all four sides , with a sofa set on the left of the room. It was perfect for him. There was a large  window and a larger balcony on the right side. Red velvet rugs gave the room a warmth. Aahil sighed and laid on his bed. Pronouncing his prayers. Aahil fell into a deep sleep.

Translation:
1. Tanga - it was a carrige pulled by a horse
2. Heera Mandi- was and still is a place in the old lahore where most prostitutes lived
3. Randi ki aulad - daughter of a slut
4. Dupatta - a piece of  cloth used to cover ones chest and neck.                                
5. Charpai - a small bed woven from fibers
6. Kathak- classic form of dance in the subcontinent region
7. Badshah- king
8. Bhai- brother
  

Authors note:
Yes I am back. This is the first chapter of Deewani.
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