Chaos in the Canvas √

34 | aftermath

یہ جو کھلی کھلی تھی عداوتیں مجھے راس تھیں
یہ جو زہر خند سلام تھے مجھے کھا گئے

Friday – 7:30pm

The television was blaring with the news of Yazdani family’s doom and the whole family was there to witness it. The room was silent, its occupants a picture of stun and bewilder while the newscaster kept repeating the news.

“Ibrahim Yazdani, son of former senator Morad Yazdani, arrested in a drug case.”

The newscaster reported of the current situation, narrating to the world the Yazdani family’s refusal to comment, the delay in the statement that had still not been issued by the police, and the influential man behind bars, stripped of his pride and dignity.

Hemayal watched the news with wide eyes of her own, mind in a haze despite everything, heart still in her sleeve. A heavy gulp of saliva down her throat and an uncomfortable cough later, she averted her gaze from the television and looked at the residents of the room – all bewildered, all shocked.

“Hemayal!” Baba was the first one to break the silence and approach her, his wide eyes frantic.

The father and daughter’s eyes clashed across the room and Hemayal was thrust back in the reality with sheer force at the pain she saw in her father’s eyes – her family cared about Ibrahim.

The revelation was unfortunate, badly timed and extremely painful and no amount of caution could have prepared her for it.

“Your brother will handle this, his family will handle this. Don’t worry.” Anisha Bhabhi placed a shaking hand on her shoulder and Hemayal felt cold crawling up her spine.

Lala had left the house the moment the news had arrived and no word had reached her yet from him; a good thing or bad, she had yet to decide. Baba wanted to go too but Lala stopped him, hinting that Hemayal might need him.

What for, she still didn’t know.

Her family’s reaction to his arrest was the hardest part to digest in the entire scenario – their worry and hurry surprising her. Maybe it was because of her own self that that man had come to be of such importance to her family but whatever the reason may be, it didn’t settle well with the brown-haired woman at all.

“I’m fine. He’ll be fine too.” She knew he will be; he was too strong for Hemayal to bring down – only a slight puncture was what she was capable of. 

“Do you want to talk to him?” Baba asked and Hemayal’s surprised eyes met his.

“Talk? I can?” She asked, cautious.

“We’ll find a way if you want to.” Anisha Bhabhi said, her eyes narrowed with concern, this time for Hemayal.

“No, I don’t want to,” she shook her head, knew too well the cost that phone call will take on her soul.  “Do you believe him, Baba?” 

“It doesn’t really matter, he’s family. We support family.” Baba answered and Hemayal had to press her lips tightly to prevent the scream that wanted to break free. 

That man, he trusted without question, but his reluctance to trust his own daughter after her kidnapping, his demands for proof was what hit right home. Was she not family?

“I always trusted you, child.” Baba said, reading her mind. “It wasn’t about trust with you.”

No, it wasn’t about trust, it was about ego and bad blood but Hemayal nodded, choosing not to respond, not knowing how to.