The once energetic, healthy looking man that Zaryab had left behind in Pakistan, was now the frail man attached to tubes and wires laying on the hospital bed.
As Haris Malik's daughters walked into the room, Sherbano thought her father was still asleep, his eyes casted downwards -almost closed, but it was when he signaled for her to come to him with the movement of his left hand that she approached him with small, timid steps.
Sherbano took her seat on the arm chair next to her fathers bed, trying hard to swallow the lump in her throat and keep the tears from once again leaking, Ayla stood behind her sister. Ahmed Khan, and his younger son Adeel stood at a respectful distance near the bed, Zaryab was still talking to the doctors outside.
Silence invaded the room, the incessant beeping of the heart monitor echoed through their ears before sherbano's broken voice -thick with moisture, cut through the atmosphere
"Baba..."
That was all she could muster up without crying so she decided not to say anything else, but to hold his hands in silence.
Haris Malik's heart clenched and he squeezed his daughters hand, wanting to clear the inner turmoil within her. His eyes averted to his best friend, and he nodded in acknowledgment, too drained to speak to anyone.
Silence once again engulfed them in its heavy blanket for what seemed like eternities -although it was merely ten minutes.
It was shattered once again when the door creaked open, Zaryab's frame appearing in the doorway.
Zaryab mustered the strength to walk through the doors and his eyes caught sight of the man who was no less than a father for him, his heart immediately shattering upon witnessing his condition.
So, Zaryab stood there, next to the closed door, not knowing what to do until Haris Malik's eyes averted to him.
His forehead furrowed in confusion before clearing and relief flushed his being.
For the first time since he was admitted into the hospital, the walls of the room witnessed hearing Haris Malik's voice upon the arrival of the man who he had helped to raise -who had been no less than his son, if not more to him.
"Zaryab..." his raspy voice croaked out.
Zaryab's eyes almost filled with tears at the longing and love he heard in the man's tone.
Sherbano stood from the seat next to the bed, motioning for Zaryab to occupy it.
He immediately approached the chair, his hand swiping across his face as he sat next to him and smiled softly in hopes of reassuring his uncle.
He clutched Haris's hand in his and softly said,
"Aap ka beta ghar agaya, this is how you greet me uncle?"
(Your son is home and this is how you greet me uncle)
Zaryab's face was smiling despite the tears blurring his vision and his tone was full of mirth, wanting to lighten the atmosphere.
There was now a sparkle in Haris Malik's eyes that Sherbano had not witnessed for years, even though he was sick -the happiness that clouded his face made him look healthier now than what his family had witnessed at home.
A deep, raspy chuckle escaped Haris and he mustered up all the power in his body to utter the words,
"You're finally home, that's why I'm still alive meri jaan"
(My life)
"Acha challain, Kaafi thak gaye hogay aap hum sab ko pareshan kar ke, ab aap rest karain, mai kahin nahi jaa raha. " Zaryab coaxed
