The Awaited Dawn

ii.

Believe

Believe in him. His promises. His words. That's all I did.

Broken

That's all I have now. Broken trust. Broken believe.

Whenever she broke any toy, vase or anything precious. Her father would replace it before her Ammi could notice. They would sneak around and pretend that everything that broken was fixed.

''Abba jee, ami seh daant pare gi''

''chanda. koi cheez mere bache seh qeemti to nae nah''

and that's how Haya grew up. Fixing things and hearts before the owner could realize the damage. Her Abba jee insisted that her Ammi's dil was very nazuk and that she would even cry for her 30 years old Jahaiz ke bartan.

But then why was she unable to fix her own broken heart? How could she not realize the damage she had done to it? Why did her Abba Jee never teach her how to fix her own heart?

Ammi's jahaiz was 30 years old and she would still cry but Haya's believe was a month and now it was broken. What should she do? Cry? Fix it? Replace it? Pretend like nothing happened?

But then how do you repair dard? It was present inside Haya. She couldn't pinpoint where. Her head was in pain, her heart was in pain, she could pain pumping in arms, legs but mostly in her heart. Abba jee dil mai dard kyu ho raha hai? Kaise theek karu?

First ray of sunshine peeping through wooden window made Haya look up. The Dawn was here. Not for her. Her time had stilled in darkness of previous night. In the moonless hours, In the blemished moments of fate, In his presence and his words.

''Kon tah woh?''

Maybe if he had asked her to give him her life. She would have. In that moment she would have. Maybe he had chosen to rip life out of her by his own hands. She would have let him. In that moment she would have done anything. Maybe he had not come to her. She would survived the night. She would have waited for him. For as long as she could. Maybe. maybe.

''yaqeen kar liya hai yah yaqeen karne keh liye pooch rahe hain?''

He was not looking into her eyes. look up zubair. please. Haya wanted to see if he was accusing her or passing verdict on her kirdar. If he had accepted that she was indeed the women his mother, bhabi and whole haveli was labelling her to be. If someone had left their room when he was not around. If she is indeed the be-imaan aurat everyone was calling her to be.

But when he looked her at. Haya wished he didn't. She prayed he hadn't. But it was too late. Too late for her to realize that the cracking sound was of her heart breaking. That she was out of breath. Life. Trust. Faith. Love.

If Haya knew how to paint she would have someday painted his eyes. His eyes that gave her a new life on first night of their marriage and his eyes that took the same life away from her.

Falling back on the small table behind her. She gathered the crumbs of air around her to breathe for one more moment.

''Haya..''

She didn't know how she raised her palm towards his inclined figure and

''Aap yahan seh chale jaen, warna meri maut keh zimadar ban jaen ge''..

Why did it feel like a lifetime had passed when the door had closed behind him. A lifetime Haya spent practicing breathing. Was it always so hard? Did it really take so much energy to breathe? Another breath. why wasn't it getting easier?

''choti bahu pani pe lain..''

The next voice she heard was of Ghulab Jahan offering her water. Why was the room was bright? Didn't the sun know of her misery? Was it mocking her? Taunting her heart's pain? For the night inside her? Shutting the window with so much anger she fought with the sun rays. She will not let it play with her dard.

''Bari begum neh mere pe is Haveli ka pani haraam nae kiya abhi tk?''

''Bahu aise toh nah bolain. Sari raat apke ansoo behtay rahe hain. Apni jaan aise nah zaiya karain. kuch kah lain''

''Ghulab, mai intezar karti rahi keh raat koi mujhe maut ajae gi, magar nae aai. kyu nae aai?''

''Ya Mere ALLAH. nah bahu apko us sonay Rabb ka wasta hai. aise baatein nah karian..''

The older women with her meek hands pleaded Haya who was in a daze. Not crying. Not screaming. Just questioning like it was the most obvious thing. Like she had been waiting for her maut and it didn't come, disappointing her.

Standing in center of the small room she turned completely towards Ghulab Jahan. Who was teary eyed, whose kamzor jism was shaking due to her cries. She didn't want to see this. Why did her old eyes have to see her choti bahu like this? She was not brave enough to bear this girl's questions about why didn't she die last night.

''Ghulab, bhut dard ho raha hai. agar mai nah hui to yeh dard b nae hoga nah..''

''Bahu..''

Just when the older women was about to object. The door burst opened with so much force that Ghulab felt there was an earthquake. The wooden window protested but was unable to fight and flew open to welcome the sun' rays into the room. Falling exactly on Haya's body. Like they were celebrating their win. Glorifying their victory.

And a large figure with bloodshed eyes entered the room making everything and everyone look small and weak followed by a deep, angry voice booming in the small room.

''Ghulab bibi, yahan seh jaen''

Zubair knew what anger was. He had been angry before. He was not new to the things anger made people do. But he had never been this angry. His shaking hands, pounding head and thumping heart was a prove. He had never reacted in anger. His Amma used to tell him that ghussa was haram. And a man should never act in anger. He must wait until the lava cools down and then react. And Zubair always listened to what his Amma said. but not today. not now. not when he heard her talking so easily about her death again.

Haya hadn't registered him entering, ghulab jahan leaving and then him standing an inch away from her.

''ab bolo kya bol rae ti?''

If Haya had been able to speak, if she knew how to speak she would have but when was she able to she do things she wanted to when he was around her. near her. with her.

She didn't know when he lifted her face upwards and made her look into his eyes. The dark colored eyes that were red containing so many emotions in them that for moment Haya wanted to touch them, feel them, caress them. But his next words took all her thoughts away from her mind and the only thing that echoed was his voice.

''kisi maut keh farishte mai itni himmat nae keh meri jaan tum mai seh nikal keh le jae''

(no angel of death has the courage to take away my life from your body)

*to be continued*