Bitter Sweet | ✓ (rewriting)

05 • khona | کھونا

•| lost |•

•••
zindagi ek safar hai suhana
yahan kal kya ho kisney jaana
•••

Zarrar didn't know why a familiar warmth spread through the organ in his chest when he saw her, he was not one to believe in fate, but in that moment he felt like everything that he had lived was for this very moment, when she would be right across from him. Someone who was a stranger yet seemed like the closest thing his heart had managed to beat rapidly for. An invisible string attached from his chest to hers, linking them in impossible ways he was yet to understand.

Her doe-like hazel eyes looked at him blankly, not an ounce of emotion fleeting through them. The doctor examined her and asked basic questions but not once did she break eye contact with him.

Once she was deemed fit for discharge, the doctor instructed him with a few instructions and medications to be taken care of, before leaving the room. Leaving them in each other's company.

A heavy silence settled over them, as Zarrar made his way towards her, standing at the foot of her bed. Her eyes finally lowered, as if snapping back into reality, her pale palms clutched tightly together. The bandage of where her IV was attached strained.

"Don't do that." Zarrar found himself murmuring softly as his eyes drifted to her hands. Only he knew the kind of restraint it took him to not untangle her hands himself.

"Sorry?" She peeped through her lashes, unaware of what the strange man said, it certainly sent tingles up her spine.

"Your hands. Don't clutch them so tight. It will hurt."

Her hands soon fell to her sides, as she nervously looked away, not being able to hold his gaze, or even look at him.

"Can I please borrow your phone? I need to make a call. I—I also had a paper.. urm a letter before I.." Fidah struggled to form coherent sentences, her eyes starting to search the room in fear. Her Baba's letter. His last words.

"It's in my car. The letter, I mean. How did you end up in the middle of the road dressed like a bride?" Curiosity got the best of him, as he pressed his lips in a thin line. He had been mulling these questions since the time he had seen her lying unconscious in the dark forest. Her father had passed away not even a week ago, she wouldn't possibly marry so fast, would she? Was she being forced?

"I-I.. can I please just make a call?" Her pleading voice reached his ears, devoid of the answers he was seeking. Sighing, he removed his phone from his pocket and handed it to her.

Eagerly Fidah, took the phone in her trembling hands and dialed the number of her best friend. Hoping to find some familiarity to soothe her sanity. She had run away from her wedding and her groom/cousin was the one who had thrusted the letter in her hand and asked her to run away.

How much more would her life get complicated? Well, the letter contained a series of anecdotes in her baba's hand writing, the latest ones were dated a few days before his passing and there was no mention of her wedding with her cousin Laiq Abdullah Durrani. Surely her Baba would have written about it if it mattered so much to him. The last of his letters contained a name and phone number scribbled hurriedly, almost indicating the importance of the words with double circled red marks.

The name read Ashraf Mahmoud Hamidi

Mahmoud was her surname, was this man related to Baba? Fidah couldn't remember a time when her Baba had spoken about his family. For him only she existed. However, she was very close to her Naani and Naanu, but that was it. He never mentioned anything that would give away his roots.