Her Vocation

30. Kaffarah

"—You can be damned to hell for all I care—!! Throw him out!" She screamed through eyes burning with loathe and before I could say anything else, the guard had roughly pushed against my chest and I fell down the steep slope, outside the main gate.

"Sahab—!" I heard Azam call behind me, as I sat wincing on the ground, clutching at my prosthetic leg.

"I am alright—" I tried to reassure him, who was now helping me up. His face had scrunched up in anger after witnessing the similar thing happening for the third time, in the past year.

"I don't get it, sahab—! Why do you bother coming here? These people don't deserve an apology—" He went on furiously beside me on the driving seat, while I kept my gaze fixated on the passing by scenery. Before he could say anymore, I stopped him with a shake of head.

"Don't, Aazam—She has every right—" My voice trailing towards the end as I had to gulp down the lump of guilt.

I knew that my coming here would solve nothing. I couldn't return her son. How could I even expect her to forgive me after being the cause behind their ruin. I didn't take the life of her son, only. I took away their every single moment of joy and replaced it with misery.

While I was roaming around guilt free in the US, Muiz was hanging between life and death. Right after he died in coma, his parents got a divorce. His father had agreed to a settlement with my Dad for blood money. The life they once used to know had turned to ashes because of my evil deeds.

The first time, I had come to beg her forgiveness, I found out that his sister had run away from home a year ago. After hearing this, I could only gape at her, unflinching.

"You have now come to redeem yourself? You are hoping for Kaffarah? Fine. I'll forgive you. Only, when you die a miserable death like the one you gave to my son. Just as you murdered the happiness of my family—I wish you death, too. You only lost half a leg? I wish your every inch was handicapped—and every misfortune in this world befalls you so that even death may seem like an easy escape for you. When you die, alone and miserable; without receiving a single moment of rest—that's when I'll forgive you—"

"Naveed?"

Huh? I looked up at Ammar's voice to find him watching me worried.

I had met Ammar, a year back; few days after I had started going to the masjid. He was the one who approached me first, saying he had heard about me. I assumed that he was talking about the news about my tragic accident, but was surprised to find that he was referring to my interview that I once gave for a renowned Pakistani magazine back when I lived in the US. It had featured an article about me, as the upcoming leader of the Pakistani business world—under 30.

Ammar was a business man himself and owned a restaurant in the city. He was starting a new business venture and wanted me to be his partner for it. I felt reluctant initially, but then gave in after realising that it was a better option than returning to Dad's company, which I could now see; ran under corrupted policies. Ammar was a regular at the masjid and alongwith him, I liked his proposal too. So after consulting with Imam who suggested me to do istakhara for it, I agreed to become a 60-40% partner with him; 60 being his share, as he was the one bringing in all the investment. It took us a few months, to initiate the franchise but nevertheless Allah blessed it with barakah and within a year we had managed to setup 4 successful branches around the country and more would come, if Allah willed.