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Bus.....Tum Ko Paana Hai

( Last Part )

It hurts to love someone ......

" Welcome Miss.Kashish Ali. It's so very nice to see you here lady. " The man in his late fifties left his chair to welcome her.

" Thank you sir, the feeling is mutual "

" Make yourself comfortable please. "

" Thank you Sir. " Kashish said in a uniform, formal voice as she took her chair opposite to his.

" I certainly feel well-honoured that I'm talking to the youngest lady CSP officer of Pakistan ever. You've done the great job. " He smiled, staring at the young twenty two year old girl who had done so much in such a little age.

" Thank you sir. The honour is certainly great for sure. "

" So how're you feeling ? " The old man said, folding the document on the table and removing his glasses.

" Great, but at the same time, more responsible than ever. " She managed to say.

" You should. Your first posting is in the department of Housing and Finance, and it sure is a tough job. " He folded his bony hands on the desk and waited to hear her response.

" Yes Sir, I can understand. "

The man nodded in approval, then pressed a button on his intercom.

" Yes, give my message to Mrs.Sumaira. " He told someone, then put down the receiver.

Just with in few seconds, the door opened and a graceful lady in her mid-thirties entered the room.

" This is Mrs.Sumaira Ahsan, she would show you your office and the arrangements. " He told her in a thick, formal voice.

" So shall we go now Miss.Kashish ? " The lady asked with a sober smile.

" Oh yes, sure. "

" Best of luck, Miss.Kashish " The man gave her an encouraging smile.

Her new office was glamourous, huge and awesome, Kashish realized as the older woman guided her through the various portions of the office.

For the rest of the day, Mrs.Sumaira showed Kashish what she would have to do in the office, and, though assured that the job wasn't ardous, by six o' clock Kashish was in no mood to agree. Apart from taking countless telephone calls, she was expected to deal with tons of files, the matters with ministry of finance and the other pure official matters.

" Scary ? " Mrs.Ahsaan finally asked, when they both got some time to relax.

" Not exactly. " Kashish took a deep breath. " I'm wondering how to handle this job which seems to be pure "male" sort of nature."

" Yeah it is. We were pretty surpised to know that the Government selected a twenty two year old girl for this highly responsible post. But let me say Miss.Kashish, when I saw your results, read details of your interview, I admired their choice. " Mrs.Sumaira smiled, she looked truly impressed.

" Thanks again " She said sincerely. " So when to join ? "

" From tomorrow " Mrs. Sumaira said, then smiling, she added, " The holidays are over "

It was her third working day in her office when something really unexpected happened, but she was not the only one who was not expecting this to happen.

" Hope they'll solve my problem Insha'Allah " Sameer thought as he parked his maroon Honda Accord outside the huge building of Ministry of Hosuing and Finance. He was so deeply lost in his thoughts that he didn't even read the name of the director as he went through the glass door labelled " Kashish Salman Ali, Executive Director of Housing and Finance"

As he stepped inside the luxurious office, he saw a woman behind the large, glassy office table. Her face was hidden behind the file she was reading.

" Ahemm hmm, Assalaam-O-Alaikum " He cleared his throat to draw her attention.

Hearing his voice, the lady put her file down.

It was like a flash, an electric flash, which spread currents through their bodies.

His beats ceased in recognition.

Her breaths stopped in realization.

His pulses quickened in appreciation.

Her nerves tingled in anticipation.

Behind the large, glass office table, she sat. Yes, she was none other than Kashish. His eyes grew wider and he stared
at her without blinking

Dressed in a plain, expensive full-sleeved white kurta and shilwar with matching broad Dupatta, she looked more graceful and lovelier than ever. And above all, that broad black scarf on her head gave her personality a unique, modest and an awesome touch.

He immediately turned away, without glancing at her again. He was about to pass the threshold when he heard her saying some thing.

" Mr.Sameer " Her voice gripped his feet. " If you wanted to meet " Kashish" you can sure leave the place, if you want. But if you had a meeting with ' Director of Finance and Housing ', I'm here. " Her words were wonderful, confident and very-matter-of-fact.

Slowly, he turned back to face her once again. For few moments, he said nothing. Then shaking his head he moved toward her table.

" Have a seat please " She said confidently.

He obeyed her silently.

" Nice to meet you here. What can I do for you ? " She said politely, a sober smile decorated her face as she spoke.

" Aw...well, I thought you already got my application. Our problem has come up with our accommodation. " His gaze flickered over her face and then briefly on the file present on the table.

" Oh yes, I remember now. But I didn't know it was you. " She said evenly.

" Does it make any difference. " He laughed sarcastically, turning his face in a primitive gesture of dislikeness.

" Not professionally but emotionally yes, it does. " She took off her glasses, as her chin came to rest on her closed, mingled fists.

" I see. What's more important for you ? " Suddenly he looked deep into her eyes. Peircing, thrusting, injurious, his gaze was dangerous.

" Profession for CSP officer, and emotions for Kashish Ali. " She said in a firm voice, her nostrils gently flared as she spoke.

" Aahaan. So I'm meeting with a " CSP Officer " now, right ? " He asked in a thick, harsh voice, a wounded smile playing on his lips.

" Right now and right here, Yes. "

" Like always, you change your standards according to the place and circumstances. I knew it. "  He gave her a hard look.

" We all change Mr.Sameer. Essence is the same though. "

He said nothing, just looked down at his hands, thinking some thing.

" I read your file in detail. " She opened the drawer of her table then picked up a red file. " I can suggest some alternatives if you like. " She set her smart, sober frame back on her nose and opened the file.

" I hate alternatives "  

" Do you ? " This time it was her turn to give him a frank, brave smile.

Her expression and meaningful remark made him uncomfortable.

" Anyways. In case you consider, I have this large and nice house in my area. The owner is leaving the place and is willing to sell it in the earnest. "

He didn't reply, though his face showed he was listening to her.

She looked down, watching him through her lashes, wishing she knew him better, understood him, could guess what he was thinking.

" I'm supervising their matter too. And I do know that you changed your house few weeks ago. I can understand your problem at a new place and in a changed atmosphere, specially when you have a little child like...... " She caught her tongue at the last moment.

Why she was getting personal ? When she had called herself professional.

" Who is the owner ? " He asked suddenly.

" Well.... " She stopped for a moment, as if searching for the right words. " We were the owners, but now a rich industrialist owns it. "

" What do you mean ? " He couldn't believe what he was hearing.

" We sold our Salman Villa about a month back. " She finally told him the shocking news.

" Why the hell........ " He couldn't say more.

She didn't reply either.

" But why ? Why uncle and aunty left that great place ?" His voice was husky, his tone painful.

" We didn't need a big house now. That place had now started to bite us. " Despite of all of her efforts, water began to flow in her eyes. " Besides, after Abbo's shattered business, we needed money too "

" But why you didn't tell me ? " The words were out before he could stop them. He hated himself for saying so.

" Tell whom ? You ? " She laughed quietly. " I guess the last time my parents saw you was about a year back, right ? "

He lowered his head, feeling truly embarrassed and ashamed of himself at the moment. His dispute was with Kashish, not with his uncle and aunty.

" Anyway " She closed the file casually. " Hope you could atleast think about what I said. I dare say, I can do something for you. " She added in a calm tone.

" How much he's demanding   ? " He asked, now looking directly into her eyes.

" About sixty lacs "

" Oh, that's too much. I don't have so much money " He let out a long, tired breath that clearly showed his disappointment.

" But atleast you can try ? " She glanced into his eyes, trying to find any hint of ambition. Her own eyes were twinkling with hope.

I wish, just I hope he could buy our old, beloved house. So that it won't belong to "others" now. She thought painfully.

A pause. She forced herself to wait.

" Okay, thanks. I'd think about that. " Breathing a long sigh, he stood up. Then glancing at her for the last time, he walked towards the office door.

Her eyes went after him, viewing his manly back and strong shoulders. He still wore his special old perfume. She could remember that. Despite of the lovely perfume, he had that typical air of masculinity which never seemed to leave him, always surrounding him in its magical circle.

Then something happened.

He turned back. He had to tell her this, if he was honest with himself. He couldn't control himself then.

She was still staring at him.

His eyes met hers, then started a bold battle.

His won.

" Well. Just in case if you don't know.... " He tried to say.

" Jee ? "

" This scarf looks good on your head "

And then, he was gone again, setting a pace that was surely against the laws and principles of her professionalism.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

" Hey Samia, how're you doing kitten ? " Anita gave a superior grin to the girl standing at the doorway.

The girl was in her early twenties with fair complexion and short dyed hair. She wore a white T-shirt and fitting blue jeans, which showed every curve of her body.

" Nothing. Just enjoying a typical Miami morning. " She tried to smile.

" Yeah, its about to rain." Anita threw a glance at the clouded sky. " You know baby, I just love it when it's pouring. "

" Hmmm " Samia said and lowered her head.

" So, excited for tonight ? " Anita asked excitedly.

" Not really. "

" Hey honey come on. What's the matter, huh ?" Anita asked, now looking directly into the eyes of younger girl.

" I... I don't know how to dance. "

" Nothing to it, Samia. Just takes practice. Hell, you can learn it, too.

" My..... my parents won't allow "

" Why the shit they won't ? Don't they trust you? "

" It's a long story. " Samia took a long breath. " I was brought up to be so prudish. A typical goody-goody girl. Unfortunately my parents are a bit narrow minded. "

" But why the hell they're ??? "

" Come on. Like you wont know. They're Pakiz yaar. " Samia told her with sheer embarrassment.

" I don't get you. Okay, I'm muslim too, but that doesn't mean I shouldn't enjoy the life. Come on yaar, don't be so conservative. "

" Its tough. "

" Nothing is tough, gal....... " Anita said emotionally.

" This is AMERICA my babe. Be what you're. Enjoy the life to its fullest. You've every right to do what you want. No one's gonna stop you here." Finishing her sentence, Anita took a little pause to see her effect on the younger girl's face.

Samia bit her lips, like she was trying to come to a certain conclusion.

" Come on, baby ... come on! Loosen up! " Anita was near her success.

" Okay " Samia took a long breath and finally smiled. " What's the program ? "

" Not much, hehe" Anita giggled. " A dance party with some delicious chicks, then some movies. The movies are a little spicy " She pressed her left eye naughtily.

" Okay, you've my word now. I would try my best to make it out."

" Thanks deary " Anita gave a light peck on her cheek. " I'm sure you're gonna love it as much as I do . "

" And hey... " Suddenly a warning tone came in Anita's voice. " For God sake don't come in your Paki cloths. This is West man. Didn't you see how people were making fun of you when you wore your stupid shilwar qameez that day . "

" Don't worry. It was a mistake. I now wear Paki cloths only at the weddings and religious occasions. " Samia smiled.

" That's my girl, hehe " Anita chuckled.

" Hiya, you two. Wassup ? Another feminine voice grabbed their attention.

They both turned to see a smiling blonde in a well-cut mini skirt.

She was Linda.

" Oh baby, G'day. Meet Samia, she's new here. Her family moved to States just a couple of years ago. "

" Hi honey . " Linda hugged Samia, lightly kissing her lightly on the cheek.

" Nice to meet you . " Samia smiled shyly.

" Same here, golly you're a pretty thing. Isn't she Anita ?" Linda grinned lively.

" Yes she is, after all she's my pal. " Anita laughed, then asked,  " So what you've been doing lately ? "

" Not much. What about you sugar? How's you boy friend going. That guy from Queens, umm I forgot his name..."   Linda tried to remember but her couldn't.

" Sabeeh Khan " Anita said harshly, making a bad mouth.

" Oh yeah. How's he ? "

" That bastard! Gosh. He thinks of me as a sixties sex godess or something "

" Eeewwww. What happened ? " Linda asked. " As far as I remember, you two were getting along pretty fine with each other. "

" Yeah, things were all right for a while, but they ... they dropped off."

" But you still date him, don't you? "

" Yeah he's behind me all the time like a fat puppy. Asking for another date. I don't know how to get rid of him." Anita's voice became colder.

" Ah, tell him it's the wrong part of the month" Linda winked naughtily.

" Shut up Linda. I'm damn serious. " Anita hissed in an angry tone." Besides... " A grin came to her lips. " It'd be a temporary excuse. "

" Did you tell Linda about your new proposal ? " Suddenly, Samia interrupted in between their conversation.

" WHAT??? Heyyyyy, you clever fox !!!!! " Linda screamed.

" Come on. Don't you know about Amir ? He proposed me. And tell you what, I'm seriously considering him. "

" Despite of knowing that he's nothing but a Good-For-Nothing son of a bitch. And how one gal has already kicked his butt. " Linda said sarcastically.

" Okay I know, he's been a little flirtatious. But atleast he's broad minded and educated. " Anita argued.

" What ? " Samia was confused. " Who kicked his ass ? "

" Ah, forget it. " Linda sighed. " She was the most wonderful gal, bravest lady in town. I never saw any gal like her. "

" Oh you mean she kicked Amir ? "

" Yeah, but why're you asking ? " Linda asked, her eyes growing wide with  the colour of naughtiness. " You like him too my pet, don't you? "

" No way " Samia said harshly. " I just know him as a guy who proposed Anita. "

" He's a pure Hollywood, you better believe it " Anita said, her tone showing how much impressed she was." His face, his hair, the rest of him..... think about that, buddy " She warned her. " And you'll never sleep a wink tonight, hehe "

" But Anita you have some other proposals too, from some nice Pakistani families living in states " Samia reminded her, ignoring her remark.

" Yeah. But they're typical mom's slave guys. I hate them. No life, no activity. They're boring yaar. They would want me to change " Anita lifted a hand to brush her black shoulder- length hair carelessly.

" So ? " Samia was confused. " I mean if they want some positive change, what's the big deal then ? "

" Yeah yeah whatever. I am who I am. I can't change myself for anyone. " Anita shrugged her shoulders, taking the cigarette case out of her jean's pocket.

Linda suddenly burst out laughing.

" Why're you laughing, you stupid ? " Anita yelled.

" Nothing. Your sentence just reminded me of some one."

" Oh your mean, her ? " Anita bent her head to show the flame to her cigarette.

" Yeah. "

" Oh my God. You two're driving me crazy. WHO WAS SHE ?" Samia shouted. It was not fair at all. They were not telling her the name of some popular girl. She hated this suspense and wanted to know.

Anita opened her mouth to blow a thick smoky puff then answered her,

" Her name was Kiran.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

" Make yourself comfortable, please" Mrs.Hasan smiled, motioning her toward the sofa. " Meanwhile I'll call him. Actually he just got back from his job and is now offering Isha prayers "

" Oh no problem Aunty. I'd wait for him. I'm pretty comfortable here " Kiran smiled back. " I just love these paintings." She added, as she wandered around the spacious room admiring the paintings on the walls.

" One of Sameer's old passions. He's a great fan of art. " Mrs. Hasan told her.

" Yes, art of all kinds . " Kiran said under her lip.

" Did you say something ? "

" Oh nopes. I was saying, these works are just wonderful. " Kiran smiled again.

" Thank you daughter, now I'm going to inform him about you " Mrs.Hasan repeated and then left the dining hall.

Kiran turned back, still standing and waited.

She felt something strange. Her heart beat and her breaths had acquired a fast pace for some unknown reason.

She had waited a long time for this very moment. And now here she was, waiting for him again. These moments seemed to be the time of her life.

And then, with the approaching sounds of heavy but steady steps, she guessed the approaching figure was of a man. He was coming in her direction.

Footsteps came closer.

She stiffened, but tried to keep herself calm.

As she threw a final look on the fabulous land-scape painting in front of her, from the corner of her eye she saw a   broad-shouldered man on the far side of the dining hall.

She would know those shoulders anywhere, Kiran thought.

" Aadaab" He said gently, softly, slowly, carefully and respectfully. His voice was as soft as silk.

A voice which had the power to raise the hair on the back of one's neck.

Kiran turned.

Her heart did a flip-flop as she recognized Sameer. She could recognize him in billions.

She was used to good-looking men but standing beside her, elegant in plain white shirt and black pants, was a man to inspire poetry. Dark black eyes, wildly shining black hair, tanned skin, full mouth and a perfect height. A nice and neat frame-less glasses on his nose gave him a sober, experienced touch.

His hair was wet from the fresh wazoo. With a one-day old thick shave, and a tweedy black jacket which was slung over his shoulder, he didn't look formal at all. Nothing really fashionable or trendy about him. But that was his quality. To produce ' rareness ' in ' common ' things.

" Salaam Alakum " Words left her mouth automatically, as she stared at him.

" How're you ? " He asked in a low voice.

There was an authority in the way he stood, in the tilt of his head as he spoke. He was neither the typical young father she'd expected nor anything like the younger Sameer.

' I'm... fine . " She said with difficulty.

" Please, sit down. " He pointed toward the sitting arrangements.

" Oh thanks " Blankly, fighting with her annoying self, she moved to the nearby sofa. As she sat down, Sameer took his seat on the front sofa, exactly opposite to where she sat.

While she was sitting, he, for the first time, got a chance to study her closely.

His eyes became wide as he stared.

She wore a plain, sea-green, cotton jumper shilwar with dark green Dupatta which covered her upper front broadly. She had shown remarkable constraint in her use of cosmetics, adding only some blusher to her cheekbones, eyeliner, and a touch of light brown lipstick.

She was wearing heels and very nearly matched him for height.

Her face was as pretty and prominent as ever. Her walnut-shaped eyes were large and expressive, enhanced by the hint of some strange sadness in their depths.

As they both sat down, she got another chance to study him closely. Yes, this Sameer Hasan did look some what different than the Sameer Hasan she'd met few years ago.

" You've changed. " Her words left her tongue swiftly but fast. Admiration was clearly evident in her expression.

He laughed.

" Why Laughing? Did I say something funny ? "

" No. " His laughter changed into a wonderful smile as he stared at her. " Actually you're the first person who said that. Otherwise, I always hear people saying that I never change. "

" Come on Linda, men don't change, do they ? Not once they get over thirty " She remembered her arguement with Linda on the same topic.

She smiled back in silence.

" By the way, by "change" you meant my " looks ", right ? " Sameer raised his left eyebrow in a primal gesture of inquiry.

" Ah, well that too. But I hope this change is not limited to " looks " only. "

" Ah. " He sighed. " You now talk complicatedly"

" And you now talk easily " She grinned.

" Acha " Her remark elicited a smile which softened the angles of his face, making him look more than attractive.

" And what about my side, do you notice any change at all ? Curiosity overtook Kiran's expression.

" Ah, certainly lady. It's been a privilege seeing you like this in your ' original ' form. " He smiled. " And you look positively reborn. " He added adoringly, peering at her through his sober spectacles.

" But you're getting too thin. What have you been doing to yourself ? " Sameer asked with a tone of concern.

" I'm not thin, just fashionably slim. " She protested.

" Alright, if you say so. "  He laughed gently

After few moments of killing silence, he finally asked.

" Enjoying your time in Pakistan ? "

" Yes, very much so. "

" Been here long ? "

" Oh I've only just arrived. About a week ago. " Kiran lowered her head, staring at her neatly trimmed nails.

" And where're you staying at ? "

" My Dad's cousin lives in Karachi. Not very far from here. "

"  I see. " He took a long breath. " So enjoying your stay ? "

" Very much, for sure. " Her smile was wonderful and that's why suited her personality too.

" You look good in glasses. " Her words left her mouth before she sould think.

" And look bad without glasses ? " A teasing tone crept into his voice.

" Nopes, may be even better " Kiran's sentence matched his.

He laughed, then murmured, " Thank you "

Again a long silence, which lasted for minutes.

" Oh well, you know what, your mom is just so graceful. " Atlast, she managed to say some thing.

" Thanks again " He laughed softly. She saw his even, white teeth.

" So what are you upto now? " He asked in a plain voice and simple tone.

" Beg your pardon ? "

" I mean what you've been doing back in states and what're your future plans ? " He explained.

" I've established a Pakistani school in N.J. Besides that, I'm preparing for the thesis of my Doctorate degree "

" Which kind of school is this, religious? " He inquired.

" Not really " She smiled. " It's a primary school, but different from other schools out there, as besides studies, we mainly concentrate on Eastern traditions and culture " Said Kiran. " As for religious school, I'd have to make myself a model religious lady first " She smiled.

" I absolutely agree " He murmured.

" But that's my next project. Hopefully, with the help of Allah, I'm planning to launch a unique Islamic school too. " She said firmly, her voice filled with an expression of determination.

"  That's awesome" He was clearly impressed. " You told me about your thesis. Which topic you have selected ? "

" Transgenerational effects of intercontinental migration"

  He laughed as she spoke.

" Why this laughing now? " She looked puzzled. Why he was laughing so much today ? Was he really happy after meeting her or was it just superficial?

" If you remember we argued over the same topic. "

" Yes I liked that. " Her reply had an expression of honesty and impression of likeness.

" Arguement or the topic ? " He raised his left brow, a teasing smile matched his tone.

" Both " This time it was her turn to laugh, as she answered him.

" Sameer baita, tea is ready " They heard his mother's voice from somewhere in the house.

" Right Ammi, we'll be there in a minute . " Sameer turned his head to reply.

" Hmmm " He let out a long breath. " Would you like to see my study ? "

" Sure, my pleasure " She grinned soberly, then followed him as he moved towards the other portion of the well-decorated house.

" Marvelous " Kiran commented, crossing the small square hall and following him into the study room. Her eyes took in the several beautiful pieces of antique furniture.

" Hey, I just hope I didn't make you bore or something. " Sameer asked, turning his face towards her.

" Not at all. " She shook her head finely. " It's been an honour actually. Meeting you after such a long time is just wonderful. " She said, as they both took their seats in the wide library room.

" So how did you find my address ?" He enquired, staring at her across the table which was present between them.

" I told you. My dad's cousin lives in your neighbourhood. His son, Shaheryaar helped me finding your house. " Kiran raised the pure white steaming tea cup of fine china in her right hand, brushing her hair with the other.

" I see. So how's America ? these days I mean "

" Cold " She sipped the tea with perfect sophistication.

" I thought so too. You live there alone? "

" Eternally single, that's me." Brushing her hair over one shoulder, she gave him a genuine smile.

" Why ? "

" Ah, well never got what I wanted. Besides..... " A sort of naughty smile came to her lips as she completed her sentence." I'll be an old maid soon. "

" I don't think so " He clearly refused her comment about herself.

" Acha, what do you think then ? " Her smile became bold, wild and dangerous.

" I.... well nothing " He tried hard to resist from getting into her obcessional trance.

" What do you want for yourself ? " He suddenly asked.

" You.... " Words slipped away before she could think.

" What ? "

" You.... knew I guess. "

" Knew what  ? " He was confused.

" About my expectations and ideal " She lifted a hand to push her hair back off her face.

" How could I ? You never told me. " He smiled.

" Well, okay " She smiled slowly. " Just search a simple, family-oriented guy for me, who's been raised in Pakistan. One, who could speak wonderful urdu and loves his religion, culture and motherland. "

He smiled but said nothing.

" Why smile ?  Do I expect too much ? "

" No. Your expectations are simple and nice. No doubt about that " He sipped his tea with delicate movement.

" And yes, the guy should be an ' inventive ' sort of a man, in ' every ' aspect, I mean "  She gave him another naughty smile.

His brows rose on her comment. He smiled back in silence.

" A man.... " She continued, " With whom I would like to share my life: someone whose integrity  I would never doubt, whose faithfulness I could take on trust. In short, a man of honour. " Her face had now acquired the most serious expression.

" Or to be more exact " She finally added " A man like " you " !! "

" Well " He sighed, then threw a brief glance on her face. " Though Masha'Allah, I dont see anything western in your looks, acts and gestures now, still I dont think that a guy like me would be appropriate for you. "

" Why do you say that ? " Her question was rapid.

" Still, many differences like... " He stopped, searching for the right words to explain himself. " You can't blame me for being out off. I mean what future is there for us? You're one of the super-rich and I'm an ordinary guy economically."

" I'm still Kiran. " Her response was spontaneous. " For goodness' sake don't let my stupid money come between us. "

" Well, but you shouldn't spoil your future. I mean I'm a widower, a thirty-two year old father of a little girl "

" So what ? "  She said thickly. " Still this ' widower' is much... much better than many so called ' virgin ' guys I know. " She was determined to argue on every point he raised.

" Acha " He smiled softly. " Anyways, I'm glad you're here "

" Yes " She sighed, keeping the tea-cup on the table. " Only now I realized that Pakistan was the centre of my dreams, I always loved it, adored it. I was just not prepared to admit it before. "

" I appreciate you for that. " He looked at her thoughtfully. " How do you see Pakistan. I mean if I ask you to define it in two words, would it be tough for you ? " His question was deep but she smiled.

"  A land of sacrifice " She said with confidence. " I wish I could give some sacrifice for this land. But tell me, do we always need to give sacrifice to express our love ? "

" Hmmm " He looked at her with pure admiration. It was true, this Kiran who sat in front of him was not the one he had left in Florida. She was much different now. Not just in looks, but in every thing.

" Actually, I personally think that love is another name of Sacrifice. " But before he could say further, his own sentence brought him back to those sweet memories.

A twelve-year-old girl was telling him something.
" I remember grand mother once told me that those who have sacrificed their lives for our country, for the love they had for it, they now live in heavens, above all. It means they have raised themselves above all, don't you think? "

" Hey, I didn't know my question was so difficult that you're taking so long to answer, hehe " Kiran's voice made him realize who he was and where he was.

" Oh " He smiled sadly. " I was thinking some thing. "

" Thumhari ghar bhoot achi hei " Suddenly Kiran's voice, accent and tone shocked him, surprised him. And above all what surprised him most was the language she speaking in. Yes, she had said the sentence in ' urdu '.

" I can't believe you said that" Sameer gasped.

" Why ? Did I say something wrong ? "

" No. It's.... it's...so cute, just so wonderful. You speaking urdu I mean. Wow "

" Were there any mistakes ? If yes, then can you please correct ? " Kiran asked in a worried tone.

" Not really " He smiled. " But it should be like,  " Tumhara ghar buhut acha hai "

" Thanks. " She smiled lively. " I've been taking Urdu classes and am determined to learn it. "

" I'm sure you'll learn it fast, Insha'Allah. "

"  I hope so " She wished, then said, " You know, I just love the way you speak urdu. And I adore the way you read it, specially when you tell all those beautiful stanzas of Urdu poetry in your typical style . "

" That's nothing unique of me. Lots of Pakistani men can do that. Anyways, thank you " He thanked her with a sober smile.

Again a long pause. A steady silence. No one was not looking at the other, and yet knew the condition of the other.

" So why this sudden change ? what makes you change your decision ? " She asked, noticing his classical straight nose and the generous curves of his mouth and brows.

" Which decision ? " He asked, giving her a look which contained confusion.

" Aunty told me, you're now ready for the second marriage. "

" Because it's become enough. I'm tired out. " His voice gave her the proof of what he was saying. He looked tired too. She had never seen him look even reomotely weary before, but there seemed to be lines of strain around his face that she couldn't fail to see.

" I didn't think you could tire. I imagined you were automatic. " She stared at him. His chest hair visible in the V of his shirt.

The words just came out without thought and she flushed with embarrassment as soon as they had left her tongue. He laughed, though, the sound bubbling up in his throat.

" Insult or praise? I'm not sure how to take that "

" I'm not sure why I said it. I don't normally make personal remarks. " Kiran felt sudden embarrassment.

" You don't normally make remarks at all." He was watching her closely. " But you're different tonight "

"  I hope different in positive way ? " She said while giving him a look that wanted his confirmation.

" Ofcourse " He said, as he sipped the last of his tea.

It would have been nice to show him that she too, could inspire personal loyality. Kiran found she wanted to impress him. Wanted his respect.

" I was sorry to hear about your wife. I feel really bad for her. I mean she was just twenty five and.... " Kiran's eyes reflected sincere grief. She tried but couldn't find the right words to show her feelings to him.

He sighed but said nothing. Though the hard and hurting expression on his face told her the untold sad story.

" Oh I forgot to tell you Sameer, " She suddenly said with a real broad smile. " Your daughter is sooo cute, so beautiful. I fell in love with her the instant I saw her."

" Yes... she is just like her aunt. " The sentence made its way before he could try his potential to stop it.

He regretted this very moment.

" What ? who ? her aunt.... who is she ? "

" She has an aunt too, younger sister of my wife. " He stole his eyes.

" Oh yeah, I remember now. " Kiran breathed. " Her name was something like Kash.... "

" Kashish "

" Oh yes. What does it mean by the way. It sounds really cool and unique. "

" It means... ' attraction '.

"  Wow " Kiran exclaimed with interest.

He didn't reply this time. His eyes slid away to some distant point.

" Do you love her ? " She was sudden, her question was unexpected and her tone was shocking.

His mouth fell open, eyes became wide, like he couldn't believe his ears.

All the while, she watched him closely, deeply.

He was about to say something when the telephone bell broke the dangerous silence between them.

" Excuse me " He stood up from his place and picked up the phone.

" Sameer Hasan here "

" Oh Shahroz is this you ? " His voice became loud with excitement.

" Man how're you, long time no see yaar  " He said, Kiran watched him keenly as he talked. Liking the way he expressed his surprising condition.

" Really, are you getting married ? " Sameer blinked in surprise.

" But with whom ? "

" Wow, what a co-incidence. Yeah I know Muskaan. She was a friend of my wife. Anyways, congratulations in advance."

" Don't worry, I would definitely attend the wedding in Lahore, Insha'Allah. " He added, smiling.

" And hey don't just send the card only. You too should come along with the card. " He laughed.

" Take care, see you, Allah Hafiz " Saying this, he hang up the phone.

" Your friend ? " Kiran raised her brows.

" Yeah, Shahroz Ahmed, one of the best guys. He's getting married next week, in Lahore. "

" Oh I see, must be wonderful for him " She smiled.

" Yeah for him it sure is. However, I don't know about the girl though " Sameer's face acquired a strange, weird smile.

" Who's the girl ? "

" One of my wife's friends, a very nice girl. We call her Muskaan "

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

" Try to undersand Muskaan. You should atleast see him once. " Wafa said, taking Muskaan's hand in hers.

" It doesn't matter for me now. I trust Allah, my parents and you too. All of you guys like him, so would I . " She turned her face away.

" Don't be stupid Muskaan. Okay, Shahroz Ahmed is a nice guy, but he's not "him" Wafa said, feeling really angry for this stubborn girl who happened to be her closest friend.

" What the hell do you mean by ' him " ?

" You know very well, what I meant by that " Wafa said plainly.

" Shut up Wafa. There was nothing between me and Jahanzaib ever. If there was something, it was from his side. I never ever thought of him." Muskaan replied thickly.

" Always remember my words Muskaan " Wafa sighed, her eyes glistening with deep sympathy. " It's better to lose your pride with someone you love rather than lose that someone you love with your useless pride. "

" I DON'T LOVE HIM, did you hear that? " Muskaan shouted in pure anger.

" Sorry I don't agree. You're denying yourself. Don't be so blunt with yourself Muskaan. It's the matter of your own happiness. I just don't understand why you don't accept the fact that you like him." Mushkbaar interrupted for the very first time.

" Haa, ' like him ' and me ? " She blew air from her mouth forcefully. " Phew, it would be the last and the worst thing I'd ever be doing.... humph. "

" Stubborn, bad girl. You'll destroy yourself. " Mushkbaar added.

" Yeah you're gonna hurt youself in the end. It's the matter of your whole life. Infact two lives. " Wafa was determined to convince her .

" You don't how do I feel when I face him. " Muskaan lowered her eyes.

" Okay then tell us, how do you feel ? " Wafa raised her brows.

" I feel like Red Riding Hood, "

" I see, and what do you think of him " Wafa tried her best to hide the smile which was about to come on her face.

" Big bad wolf " Muskaan said unevenly.

Wafa and Mushkbaar laughed simultaneously.

" He's a self-centered, pompous man . " Muskaan closed her fists, her voice cold, her tone harsher.

" Think again, Muskaan. He's here, you have your choice" Mushkbaar smiled meaningflly.

" What ??? who's here ? "

" Jahanzaib, ofcourse. "

" Why on earth did you invite him here ?" Muskaan felt like a totally left out little girl who was unaware of every thing.

" To attened your marriage. He really wanted so. His whole family is here." Wafa told her.

" Okay, what ever. "

" Oh Allah, Muskaan, my sister you're going to spend your whole life with a total stranger, just because you want to take revenge from Jahanzaib ?? " Mushkbaar tried her best.

" And yes, what kind of revenge is that and why ? Revenge, because he's interested in you ??" Wafa didn't give her a chance to answer Mushkbaar.

" Answer me, Muskaan. "

" Oh God.. " She screamed, keeping his hands on her ears.

" One more word from you gals and I 'm gonna do something really terrible. Get out of here. Will you , please, ? " Muskaan began to cry.

Wafa and Mushkbaar exchanged meaningful glances and then silently decided to leave her alone in the room.

" Before we go, we just wanted to inform you that be ready for shopping today. We'd be heading to Liberty in the evening, we're not done with your shopping and jewelry yet. " It was the last sentence which Mushkbaar said, then they both left her room.

" Oh Allah " She took hold of her bursting head with both of her hands. Why, why they just don't understand me ?

" And why not YOU understand some thing, hmmm ? "

It was a familiar voice.

" Huh " Trying to catch her breath, she quickly turned around to find any one standing there. But there was no one. She was alone in her own room with its closed door.

" Where did this sound come from ? " She thought, totally confused.

Only then if she could notice the fast, strong beating of her tender ' heart ', she could know the source of this sound.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

" Hello, is this Miss.Kashish speaking ? " A female voice came from the other side of the phone.

" Yes, this is Kashish Ali "

" Oh Miss.Kashish, welcome to Islamabad. When did you arrive here ?

" Just yesterday "

" So do you already know the schedule of the conference or should I brief you ? "

" Oh yes I know, thanks. But could you please tell me how long would I have to stay here in Islamabad ? "

" Miss.Kashish, just couple of days. You don't need to attend all the sessions. "

" Okay. Thanks alot. "

As she put down the receiver, she sighed loudly.

Her hands involuntary reached up to touch her cheeks. Not surprisingly, her face was wet.

Slowly, she wiped the tears off her cheeks, regaining control of herself.

I don't even realize it when I begin to cry. She thought painfully and headed towards the basin in the wash room.

She splashed cold water on her face to remove traces of tears.

I wish... I just wish this cold water could remove the tears which are present inside the human body. But in vain, it only removes external marks. She thought, as she reached the beautiful terrace of the hotel she was staying in.

Lonliness, at times, is such a wonderful companion. Some times it removes the need to see the mirror. As it, itself, is a mirror of a personality. Very clear, neat and bright.

For Kashish, this lonliness had three consecutive phases.
Initinally it was a need for her. Then it became a habit and now this lonliness was like an addiction for her. It had even become a leader for her, guiding her through various circumstances , giving her the power to make various confident decisions.

But there were times, when even this lonliness seemed to bother her more than any thing else.

And then, her only companion was " his " memories.

His most recent memory was of the day when he had come to help her while Kisa had left all of them forever. The way his arms had held her, comforting and protecting her in the shocking afterwarmth of the news, had formed a bond between them that nothing could ever break.

She inhaled the sharp, clear mountain air, pine scented, edged with coldness.

The serrated outline of the Margala Hills was etched sharply against the backdrop of summer blue sky as she stepped in the terris. She lifted her gaze to the distant peaks.Their slops were lush green with thick Pine forests. The intense blueness of a cloudless sky appeared to mock the bleak propspect of her future.

She sighed, putting her her head on the hard wall behind her, she closed her eyes.

The next instant, he emerged from somewhere. He had his arms crossed over his chest and was smiling wonderfully.

She raised from her place and finally stood facing him, his wide black eyes unreadable.

Then, suddenly, his expression began to change. Next, his face became serious. And then gradually, an angry look overtook his facial expressions.

" Why did you do this to me, hmm ? " He asked harshly.

She couldn't reply. She just stared at him blankly.

There was so much pain and sorrow on his face that she couldn't see more of him.

Even his sight was hurting.

Suddenly, afraid of herself, she closed her eyes.

" I'm sorry Sameer." She said gruffly, atlast giving way to her heart.

" I don't believe I did this ... but I had to. "

Hidden birds chirped in the towering pine trees that edged the road below.

She opened her eyes.

He was not there. He was no where.

" No Sameer, No. I can't let you go like this. " She screamed in silence.

But there was no one to hear her cries, to consider her protests, to relieve her pains, to heal her wounds.

She paused a moment to draw a couple of long deep breaths of cold air. Nothing had changed, she told himself. She had only thought it might, but it hadn't, so everything was just the way it had always been. Except that now she knew what it felt like to have her heart torn out by the roots.

Stifling an uncontrollable sob, Kashish raised her fist to her mouth and shook her head violently, then broke from the terris and ran quickly to her room, shutting the door behind her.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It was eight-o-clock in the morning and Sameer was fixing breakfast when the sound of door bell interrupted his thoughts.

" Who this could be ? " He glanced at the playing figure of little Saba beside him, then left the kitchen.

" Oh you, " A long breath escaped his lungs as he opened the door, only to find the smiling face of Kiran in front of him.

" May I come in Sir ?" She asked in a tone as if he won't allow, she'd leave right from the door.

" Ofcourse, Madam " He gave way to her.

" Ummm, what are you cooking- it smells great " She sent him a wide-eyed, innocent look.

" Actually I was fixing breakfast. "

" Oh really? That's cute " She said, as she stepped past him into the living room.

" What 's cute? break fast or me ? " His smile was very meaningful.

" Aww.... you clever man. " She laughed. " Where is Aunty ? "

" She's in her room, reading newspaper. "

" Oh, let me say Salaam to her first. " Kiran said, glancing round the elegant drawing-room and smartly tossing back her mane of ash-brown hair.

She stopped outside Mrs.Hasan's room and knocked. On hearing her call, she inched the door open, peeped in and smiled before finally letting herself go in.

" Assalaam-O-Alaikum Aunty, hope I didn't disturb you at the breakfast time, though I know I have, hehe. " She laughed softly.

" Not at all. How's my daughter ? " Smiling, Mrs.Hasan took Kiran's hands in hers, as she sat beside her on the bed.

" I'm fine, Aunty, you tell me, Aap ka Tabiyat kaisa hei ?? "

" Oh so cute, hehe " Mrs.Hasan warmly pressed her hands. " You look even more cute when you talk in urdu.  I'm fine baita, alhumdolillah "

" That's good. " Kiran put her hands over the elder woman's with genuine affection.

" You know I called your parents yesterday. Your father and mother both were really happy to talk to me. " Mrs.Hasan smiled. " You father does know Sameer. "

" Yes, he'd met him, when we were in university. " Kiran said.

" I talked about few more things. " A meaningful smile was now playing on Mrs.Hasan's lips.

" Acha, like what ? " Kiran asked innocently.

" Hmm, like they said, they won't have any objection, if you say yes. " Mrs.Hasan's smile grew deeper.

" About what Aunty ? " At first Kiran couldn't understand what Sameer's mother wanted to tell her.

" Will you marry my son, Kiran baiti ? "

" Oh" A long gasp tore free from Kiran's throat. She felt stunned and paralyzed at her place.

After few seconds the impact of what the older woman had said, brought a rush of colour to her cheeks.

And then, without knowing what she was doing or what was happening to her, something really wonderful took place for the very first time in her life.

She wanted to say something, wished she could open her mouth, but her trembling lips refuse to help her tongue.

But at the moment, her lips were not the only things that betrayed her, as her lashes too, began to dance up and down.

Yes, she was blushing. Blushing, like a pure eastern Pakistani girl is supposed to blush.

Mrs.Hasan looked equally pleased at her reaction.

" I'm delighted, delighted. " Mrs.Hasan was beaming from ear to ear.

She lost her words. She had never felt this kind of shyness. Redness coloured her cheeks, her lashes suddenly felt so heavy that she had to close them for a while.

" Oh, Ammi, I think Sameer is waiting for me there. " Grinning with shyness and still keeping her eyes low, she went out.

" Oh Allah, " She said to herself as her breaths grew normal. " What happened to me !!! " She smiled.

On her way to the kitchen, she saw another room. It's door was open. Though it was against her ethics, but the beauty of the well-furnished and well-decorated room made her change her mind as she entered the room. It was Sameer's room, she realized as she glanced at his big framed-portrait hanging over the wall. It was not a bed-room in real sense, as besides a bed and attached bath, it also had a study table, few chairs and a computer.

She glanced around, silently praising Sameer's choice even in little things too. She was about to turn back when some thing caught her eyes. Completely lost in the trance of what she saw, she moved towards the partially open cupboard. As she neared the cupboard to open its door completely, she saw it was a picture of a cute, attractive girl. The smiling girl hardly looked more than twenty-five.

She must be Kisa, Sameer's wife. Despite of the fact that Kiran had never seen her in real, she had no difficulty in recognizing Kisa when she compared the picture with the image she had in her mind, the image which she had formed after what Mrs.Hasan and Sameer had told her about Kisa.

Praising the beauty of this long-haired girl, she lifted the picture from the shelf to observe it more closely. Only then she realized there was some other picture present behind it. Unable to control her curiosity, she straightened it and gasped.

Kiran had never seen such a beautiful face. So much innocence, so much loveliness, such a fabulous grace, and yet she didn't look more than a teenager.

Infact, Kiran decided, She was just like a big doll, so cute, so fragile and yet so alive. For some unknown reason, her face looked familiar to her. She wondered where she had seen her and then sighed.

Yes, she now knew why this girl looked so much familiar. Her face was very much similar to Saba's.

" So, you are Kashish !!! " Kiran breathed, then slowly placed both the pictures back on their original position.

Sameer was bending over the frying pan to give the golden puffy eggs another look, when he heard Kiran's voice.

She was calling Saba.

" She's here. " Sameer said. " Wait for us at the dining table, break fast is ready. We'd be there in a minute. "

He scooped Saba up and carried her to the table.

Kiran was waiting for her with her arms spread wide. She took Saba gently from him and saw him cleaning the table.

" Hey, can I help ? " She asked him, kissing the top of baby's head.

" Na na, you're guest here " He gave her a bit naughty smile

" Ahaan, that's interesting " She caressed Saba's hair softly.

In his next round, he carried the tray which contained tea cups, and the tea-pot. Bread, jam, milk and juices were already present at the table.

When he turned for his last round, Kiran couldn't keep herself silent any more.

" Oh God, Sameer, what else's remained now ? "

" Omelets, " He called back. He  turned back to the stove, cut off the heat, and served the omelet up on two plates he'd set on the sideboard.

" So, janaab, how're you this morning. " Sameer smiled as he took his chair opposite to hers. " Hey, you didn't start to eat ? "

" I'm fine. " She ruffled Saba's hair, as the baby girl sat in her lap, drinking the milk from her bottle.

" I already had a big heavy breakfast before I left for your home." She told him. " I ate ' Paraatha and poori '

" Oh yes,  that sure is heavy " Sameer laughed lightly, as he slowly gulped his tea.

Though he insisted alot, she hardly ate anything.

The rest of the breakfast was silent, with both of them silently searching for the right words to begin.

" No no, don't do that. " He tried to stop her as she began to clear the empty plates and dishes from the table.

But she didn't pay any attention. While he nibbled the last slice of toast, she cleared the whole table and stacked the dishes in the sink.

After the breakfast, Sameer handed Saba to his mother, then came to stand at the door of his kitchen. There she was, working so "un-formally".

The sight of her working like this in his own home, so casually, so usually, fascinated him. He didn't know why.

The sight was wonderful. She made it even more attractive by what she wore at the moment.

She wore a light pink, printed kurta shilwar of Georgette. A big, broad V-shaped red dupatta covered her gracefully.

He knew these outfits would be cute on her, but he just didn't realize how cute.

" So you're wearing these eastern cloths just in Pakistan or ? " He couldn't help himself asking, though left his question unfinished, as if to see her response first.

" Yes. I'm so proud, I have stopped wearing western cloths since the last couple of years. No cheap masculine cloths, no jeans, not sick trousers." She turned to him for a second, smiled, then resumed her work.

" Wow, I'm impressed. So what do you wear then ? "

" I usually prefer Saarhi, though it is not purely islamic either but it's far better than cheap english cloths. Other than that, I like Kurta shilwars. " She said, fixing the glasses in the stand. She had impressed him, she couldn't believe her fortune.

" I'm sure it's been a long and tough way for you. " Sameer wondered.

" Yeah. Initially, it sure was tough. People tried to make fun of me. But I didn't give a damn. No one else lives his or her life for me, why should I care ?" Kiran turned back to the sink, finished rinsing the dishes, and then put them in the dish washer.

" I really appreciate you for that . "

" You know Sameer, before I met you, I always wondered if a man existed who didn't mentally undress a girl when he first met her. " She said, drying the remaining dishes, then putting them in a kitchen stand.

" Really ? Well alhumdolillah there are many men like me who don't view women in that respect. I'm not the only one like that. " Sameer crossed his arms over his chest, still standing at the doorway of the kitchen.

" Well, may be you're right. But I've now realized that it's us ' women ' who give men chances to do so, revealing our bodies. " She replied.

" Well " Atlast done with the kitchen job, she turned back to face him once again. " Shall we go now ? "

" Sure " He left door for her and followed her to the living room.

" So, how's your thesis going ? " He asked with a long breath.

He had now gone to stand by the open window, and his features were etched against the bright, shiny sun-light. A broad forehead of an intellectual--- a comparison heightened by the thin-rimmed spectacles that were as much as part of him as the silver encircling his wrist, the slimmest watch in the world. His nose, like his charecter was firm and unyielding, chin and mouth equally determined. A man not to be taken lightly, she decided again.

" Pretty fine, thank you. I'm gathing more information about the social and cultural problems ."

" Problems in Pakistan ? " He asked, not turning to her yet.

" Problems don't exist in Pakistan only. We asians living abroad have our own kind of problems. "

" Like what ? " Though he knew those problems, but for some reason he wanted to know her own, personal point of view.

" Like brought-up of children in an Islamic and eastern atmosphere, which's very tough out there. " She told him. " Plus marriage. Most ' Aunts ' over there have fixed double standards for this, they're playing with their children's emotions. I have seen such ' Aunts ' insulting Pakistan and its people but when their "American" sons grow up, they search girls from Pakistan for them, ignoring us girls living there. Such guys and their moms are kidding us, making us fool. "

Sameer couldn't believe his ears. It was ' Kiran ' who was pointing out all these bitter facts and social draw backs of western society with respect to Pakistanis.

" We have been told that Pakistani men are chauvinists. As a result, now some of us gals are suffering from this so called Paki-male syndrome. " She added.

" Sounds like you've thoroughly researched the subject " Sameer said with pure interest. " But why do you talk about girls only ?

" Because I personally think that the role of a woman is more important than man's regarading the new generation and their future. If we want better human beings, we would have to make good mothers first. " Kiran talked confidently. That was her hall mark, she never seemed to lose her confidence regardless of the time, place and the subject.

" I absolutely agree " Sameer nodded in agreement.

" It's a silent, secret conspiracy against the Pakistani girls growing up in the west, and mainly their own parents are responsible for that. Our brains have been washed. We have been taught that Pakistani men are narrow minded, rude and arrogant. " Kiran said softly, despire of the seriousness of the matter, her tone was still very calm and gentle.

" But that doesn't apply as a rule, not all families are like that " Sameer raised a valid point on the subject.

" Ofcourse all fingers are not alike, and this is not the case with every family living there. But it's still the fact that their number is increasing day by day."

Their mutual discussion turned towards other things as well as they compared notes on books, art and current affairs.

"  I must go now. I've to meet my cousins this afternoon. " Saying this, she stood up.

" Thanks, Kiran. Thanks for your time  "

" That's my line. " She grinned.

" But hey, wait, I've to say Khuda Hafiz to Aunty . " Smiling, she went to his mother's room.

When she returned after few moments, she had a wonderful but somewhat shy smile on her lips. She looks more unique now, Sameer decided as he took another detailed look of hers.

" Acha khuda hafiz. " She said, giving him her typical, feminine smile.

" Would you like to have dinner with us ? " His words were out before he could stop them and she seemed to be rooted to the spot.

Slowly, she turned to face him again.

" Invite me again, slowly and calmly. " She ordered in a sweet, soft tone. Her eyes intent on his face. " Please be careful what you say. "

" I thought you might like to have dinner with us "

" That'll be great! But when? "

" How about tonight? " He asked, his eyes gleaming with hope.

" Hmm not sure about tonight. What about tomorrow ?" She asked back.

" Hmmm, as you wish. And make it around nine p.m,  unless you have something better to do!" Sameer suggested.

" No I don't have any thing particular in my schedule yet. " She said.

" Okay, so then........ lady would you mind giving us the precious pleasure of your sweet company at the dinner tomorrow? " He was smiling now.

All the while, she was watching him closely, seriously, a smile growing slowly along her lips.

" Thank You. I'd like to."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

" What's the matter Muskaan ? " Mushkbaar reiterated.

" Not a thing" She said tightly. "Just a loss of sleep "

" Is that all ? " Mushkbaar expelled a sigh of relief, as three of them walked towards the parking of their huge house.

" I told you naa ? " Muskaan replied unevenly, raising her brows at her twin sister.

As they reached the parking, she saw a new car parked near the main gate.

" Where are we going ? " Muskaan asked, confused. " This is not our car. "

" Yes, it's not our car, but today we would go in this one " Mushkbaar said, without glancing at her.

" But why ?" Muskaan asked, but before she could get the answer of her question she saw a man, standing beside the car with his back on them.

" Who's this ? " Before Muskaan could finish her sentence, he turned back.

He was Jahanzaib.

" Assalaam-O-Alaikum " He murmured slowly, his voice was surprisingly soothing and gentle today.

As he turned, she got a good look at him.

With his bright, dark lashed black eyes, his noble features and splendid voice, he was perfect in his looks.

Wafa and Mushkaabar replied to his Salaam, but she didn't. She just couldn't, and she didn't know why.

His chest rose and fell but he didn't say a word after his salaam, and she fancied she could see the fabric of his shirt expand and contract with the beat of his heart.

She tried to ignore the distracting sight of his muscular arms revealed by his rolled-up shirt sleeves.

" Where are our own cars ? " She turned to Mushkbaar.

" One is with Abbo, Ammi is using the second one, and the third one's engine had some fault. " Mushkbaar said as if nothing was unusual. Opening the front door of the car, she seated herself in. Wafa followed her instantly.

Muskaan bit her lip but said nothing.

There was no choice for her now, except to get in some thing which was ' his ' property.

With an unusual silence, Jahanzaib shifted his car into the gear and they moved out of the house.

As Muskaan sat beside Wafa, she tried her best to not to glance at him, all the while looking out of the car through the window.

But it was impossible for Jahanzaib to do the same. He just couldn't help himself from looking at such a nice, lovely face. Her hair was undone, dancing along the evening breeze coming through the car window.

From time to time, he threw brief glances at her but never got any response in return. She was not even looking at him. His heart sank.

Muskaan's condition was no different. Though, she didn't look at him but was supremely conscious of him.

It was understandable to her that she and Jahanzaib weren't talking, but what made her even more confused was that even Wafa and Mushkbaar were silent for some strange reason.

The killing silence began to bite her.

As if knowing her condition, he inserted a C.D in the player. Stereo began to spread romantic notes in the atmosphere of the car.

Kabhi tou Nazar milaao

Kabhi tou Qareeb aao

Jo Nahin kaha hai

Kabhi tou Samajh bhi jaao

How true, He thought. The song seemed to translate his own feelings at the moment. Biting his lips and trying to control himself, he looked at her through the back-view mirror.

This was the moment he was waiting for.

Listening to the meaningful song, Muskaan felt uncomfortable and as she shifted on her seat, her eyes met his through the back mirror.

Hum bhi tou hain tumhaarey....

Deewaaney,,,, haan deewaaney

She froze at her place, turned to a stone statue. She forgot to breath, forgot to take even her gaze away. His eyes stole her breaths. Black and intense with emotions. His eyes were so powerful, they had almost hypnotized her.

He was always far too quick at noticing her reactions. That was even more worrying. You might almost think he could read her mind, and that made her shiver. Was he on her wavelength? Could he sense what was happening inside her? Or was it just that women were always reacting to him like that? No this couldn't be the case here as Wafa and Mushkbaar didn't seem to find him a bit irritating. Infact she'd always seen the two girls laughing and enjoying his company.

After few moments, like he knew her condition, his eyes left hers.

Hum ne tum ko dekhtey hi Dil diya

Tum hi socho, Tum ne Hum sey kiya, Kiya

Mera dil na toro

Kabhi Dil sey dil mila lo

Hum bhi tou hain tumhaarey....

Deewaaney,,,, haan deewaaney

He wasn't looking at her now, but grimly concentrating on the road.

After few more minutes, they had reached the gorgeous shopping mall of Lahore known as Liberty. It was not an Eid season or a time for some festival and yet there was so much rush and lights that it felt like that tonight was " Chaand Raat", a traditional Pakistani moon night.

As soon as he parked the car, Wafa and Mushkbaar climbed out of the car quickly, like if they'll not do so, some thing bad will happen. Their behaviour surprised and shocked Muskaan. Why they were ignoring her ? What was her fault ?

Jahanzaib locked his door and then without glancing at her, he followed Wafa and Mushkbaar towards the main building of the shopping centre.

Biting her lower lip, Muskaan slowly opened the door and placed her feet on the ground.

" I'll see both of you, Wafa and Mushkbaar !!! " She murmured toughly, anger flowing through her vains. Taking her purse out, she locked the door and then shut it with force.

But as she tried to walk forward, some thing stopped her. She turned and gasped.

She had been arrested in a tough, weird situation. One end of her big, long red Dupatta had been slipped inside the car, without her noticing it. And now with the door closed and locked, she was in an impossible situation. Half of the dupatta was on her body, and half of it was inside the locked car.

She tried to pull it, but it was tightly enclosed. It was clear that applying more force will tear it apart. She didn't know what to do or what to think. She could leave the Dupatta there but her modesty, her brought-up, her manners, her grace didn't allow her to walk in front of people without her Dupatta on.

" OH, Allah help me " She prayed silently. Tears of helplessness filled her eyes.

With pure frustration, she turned around and then, there was him, Jahanzaib, coming to her, to help her, to take care of her.

" Is anything wrong ? " He stared at her in concern.

" My, my..... dupatta got hooked in the door. " She stammered.

" Oh" He breathed, then taking the key out of his pocket, he unlocked the door.

His fingers touched the corner of her Dupatta. Bending beside her, he placed one of his knee on the ground.

His gesture was remarkable. It impressed her

His act was sincere. It made her heart melt in the most weird way.

After his efforts for few minutes, he finally mananged to pull it free from the hook of the door. But he didn't say a word as he rose. Instead, slowly, he moved to stand in front of her.

And then, with slow, deliberate movements, he raised his Dupatta in his hands, putting it gently, modestly on her head.

It was just like a slow-motion. Lifting her head completely, she suddenly found herself trapped by a pair of impossibly black eyes looking back at her. Something in their azure depths called to her soul. Her heart ceased to beat. She found herself getting lost in the real mirage of his personality.

If she'd thought things moved in slow-motion before, now she wondered if all activity had ceased. He was so near, that she could smell the masculine fragrance of ' Eternity ' emitting from his body.

" You know what Muskaan, " His words felt like silk. " Perhaps you think I'm a bad guy or some thing."

Then without waiting for her answer, he continued. "  If I tease you, it doesn't mean I don't respect you. "

She just stood there, speechless, hearing his touchy whispers.

" Those days at Faraz bhai's wedding were very memorable for me....mainly because of you. " Completing his sentence, he took his hands off her Dupatta, then turned back in silence.

Blood rushed to her face. The tension between them might have been generated by anger but it was something else now.

She had never seen this aspect, this look of Jahanzaib.

Their shopping went on for three hours. Jewelry, cloths, cone-Mehndi, make-up kits and then bangles, they didn't miss a single thing. Wafa and Mushkbaar did note Muskaan's unusual silence but didn't comment as if they knew that it would be useless. During whole time Muskaan couldn't control her heavily beating heart. From time to time, she threw brief glances on him but their eyes never met again.

Once they all were inside the car, Mushkbaar glanced at her watch

" Jahanzaib Bhai it's dinner time now ! " 

" Sure " He said softly, igniting the engine and shifting the car into reverse." What you ladies would like for dinner ? '

" Hmm, what about Siri-Payey ? " Wafa said, smiling.

" Oh... well they're sort of hard to eat and heavy to digest. " Mushkbaar said.

" Come on. Once in a blue moon, it's okay to try those foods, specially when Jahanzaib is in Lahore with us. " Wafa said, looking at Muskaan at the same time.

Muskaan turned her face away to glance out of the car's window.

They ate Siri-Paaya at the famous spot of Lahore, called as " Phujja Payey Wala ".

They didn't speak on the way back. There was a long, tense silence. Muskaan was dry-mouthed and dumb, her ears beating with the sound of own blood.

She leaned back in her seat, angry with herself for letting him get to her again. How on earth had it happened, this time? She had been angry with him one minute and breathless the next, and it was without rhyme or reason.

She was going crazy; it was the only explanation.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The night had been warm and her excitement high, as Kiran prepared herself for the dinner. For tonight, she had choosed to wear a kurta shilwar suit of fine lenin. Being plain and indigo in colour, the outfit made her complexion   extremely fair, with just a hint of pink showing through the velvety skin of her cheekbones. Brown lipstick made her full lips more prominent. She braid her hair into a coronet and with circlet of pearls around her neck, presented a perfect image of a noble dinner-lady.

Just after an hour, she was ringing the the bell of his not-very-large but smart house, her heart doing its usual flip-flop as Sameer opened the door and smiled down at her.

" Aadaab " He said softly.

" Wa'alaikum Aadaab, hehe " Her voice revealed her happiness.

" You look wonderful tonight. " He murmured, admiration evident in his eyes.

Fresh colour flamed in her cheeks.

" Thanks, you too, " She smiled.

Stepping on one side, he left space for her so that she could pass through the corridor leading to the living room.The settings had been changed, she noticed---black carpet, red-lacquered walls, black and white furniture. She wondered if it was a normal usual change or was just for her.

" Where's Aunty and Saba ? "

" Saba is in Ammi's room, hearing her daily night story  " He told her.

" Oh really ? " Her eyes widened, " So cute "

She went straight to Mrs.Hasan's room, offering her greetings and salaam.

Both grand mother and the grand daughter were lying on the bed, Saba looked sleepy with her head over her grand mother's shoulder.

Kiran leaned over and kissed the top of baby's head." How's my brave little gal doing today, hmm ? "

Saba smiled shyly then turned her face.

" She's sleepy, but still insists about hearing the story of a princess " Mrs.Hasan smiled up at Kiran.

" That's so cute, so touchy " Kiran said. " I wish I could hear that story too "

" Ofcourse you can, but first things first, as dinner is ready " Sameer's voice remineded her of why she was here.

She turned back to find him standing at the door way of the room, smiling.

" Okay, little princess, good night, ummmm " Leaning forward, she kissed Saba's cheeks.

" Aunty, won't you join us for dinner ? " She asked with concern.

" No daughter. Actually due to diabetes, I have fixed my own schedule with separate food. " Mrs.Hasan told her. " So don't you worry about me. I already had my dinner about an hour ago. "

" Alright Aunty. Acha, take care, good night "

" Shab-bakhair baiti " Mrs.Hasan smiled back, sincerely praying in her heart for this cute and nice girl, who was so caring and understanding.

" So how're you doing these days ? " He asked, as they entered dining hall, walking side by side.

" Nothing much, thesis is almost about to be finished. "

" Good, " He muttered.

She took a round of the whole dining hall, staring at the fabulous paintings hanging here and there.

Sameer poured them both cold drinks and turned to watch her slowly walk around the walls, looking at the paintings hanging there. The curtains were drawn and shaded lamps cast a soft glow over the paintings over the walls.

Suddenly, she felt the back of her neck prickle, knowing he was watching her. Being alone with him had always been nerve-racking.

" Make yourself comfortable please. " He said in a deep, dark voice.

" I'm admiring your taste in art. " She evaded, turning away to stare at a large, modern landscape hanging over the window.

" I admire yours too. " Silent as a winter night, he had come to stand beside her, handing her the glass of cold drink.

" I hope so. I never realised what a wonderful medium water colour is. " She said back in a trance. She was lost in the magic, she didn't know was it because of the beauty of the paintings or due to the man standing beside her.

" Yeah, oil is good too, but water is more sophisticated. " He said, his eyes following hers.

" I like to paint life " She took a steadying sip of her soft drink.

" I know " His voice was dark, silk-like as he leaned closer.

His closeness enfolded her in the potent male aura of his aftershave lotion so that she felt slightly light-headed.

She was suddenly intensely aware of him, an awareness she had never felt with any man. It brought a haunting purple shadow to her eyes and a tingling to her skin.

Why did he make her feel this way? She had never wanted anything so much in her life before. But, yes, life was very unfair to her.

" I guess you don't know " She managed to say.

" What ? " He asked.

" That....you really have a way with the women."

They cried out simultaneously, laughing.

" So shall we proceed to the dinner, lady ? " He looked into her eyes.

" Please " She smiled back and then followed him to the table.

While he held out the chair for her in a well-mannered way, she got a chance to stare at him in detail.

Wonderfully dressed in navy blue jacket and pants with sky blue shirt which he'd left unbuttoned in its upper part, he looked superb. His outfit emhasised his physique, his dark black eyes--behind his thin rimmed spectacles----regarded her unblinkingly. He wore the same perfume which used to be so familiar to her. It was very nice: faint, slightly floral with a vague hint of musk, and no 'sharpness' to it. 

They sank into the opposite chairs around the huge, oval-shaped dinner table.

" Oh, so much !!! " She exclaimed loudly as she glanced at the table full of different dishes, salads, fruits and food items.

" Who made all this stuff ? "

" Most items are ready-made, Chicken Karhaai and Briyaani is of Ammi's hands. " He smiled.

" But why did you bother her ? "

" I told her not to, but she insisted. "

" Oh, she's so sweet, Sameer you're lucky "  Kiran's voice reminded Sameer of something. Yes, Kiran had never been much close to her mother, and he could still feel the hurt, pain and loss.

Suddenly they heard Saba crying in the other room.

" Excuse me, let me see her " He rose and went toward his mother's room.

When he returned, he had Saba in his arms.

" Our little princess is hungry and wants to share dinner with us " He smiled, kissing Saba's cheek.

" Oh yes sure, please, give her to me " Kiran said, as she picked a napkin from the table.

" Na na, princess is in a bad mood today, she just wants to be with her father for now, hai naa ? Sameer looked back toward Saba's face, as if he wanted to confirm his thought. She nodded silently, rubbing her left eye with one of her hands.

" See " Sameer smiled again. He then gathered up two napkins and made his way to the table.

He first seated himself on the chair which was directly opposite to Kiran's then he lifted Saba on to his lap, settling her against him, eating with no difficulty.

Kiran stared at them silently, loving the lovely sight. Father and daughter eating the same dinner, sharing the same spoon. Due to Saba's small mouth, Sameer choosed a relatively small spoon.

" What 're you thinking ? " Suddenly he asked, looking at her with curious eyes.

" Nothing, just imagining the extent of your love for Saba and others. " She said, pulling the dish of Chicken Karhaai towards her.

" Love has no extents." He smiled, while putting another rice-filled spoon in Saba's mouth.

" Yes, I guess you're right. " Kiran sighed. " Only heart can feel how deep love is "

" You know Kiran, " He said gently, "  Hearts are like mirrors, but the basic difference between a heart and the mirrors is that you can clean and polish the mirrors again and again but in case of heart, if one's image becomes blurred, you can't clear it ever. "

She stared at his face through the flames of burning candles present on the table between them. His eyes were in deep shadow but glittered every time the flame came on.

For some strange reason, his eyes made her uneasy, edgy.

The flame went on again. Off again.

" Tell me " She said, " Shouldn't we expect something in love ? "

" No " His voice a mere whisper. " When you love, you must not expect or accept any thing in return, for if you do, you're not loving but investing. "

" Why does it hurt to love some one ? " Her question startled him for a second. He had not expected such questions on the dinner ofcourse.

" Well " He took a long breath. " One aspect of love is....is to feel pain. Whether it's a failure or success in love, you feel pain in your heart, right from the beginning. Sometimes this pain is pleasurable...and sometimes, infact many times, it’s hurting. Expectations.....dreams...wishes...fantasies...when one can't get fulfillment of all of these things, ultimately it hurts."

" But ... " She protested. " but, why do we accept this pain ? why don't we reject it? " Her shoulder-length ash brown hair fell forward, hiding the hurt which sprang into her green eyes.

" I guess you have no control over that. Besides, If you love, you must prepare to accept pain, for if you expect happiness, you're not loving but using it to make yourself happy."

" Love.... " He added in the same voice, his tone still similar and uniform " Love may leave your heart like shattered glass, but keep in mind there there's someone who'll be willing to endure the pain of picking up the pieces so you could be whole again"

Though he was telling her every thing very gently, softly, carefully but hearing all these things made her unhappy somehow. She didn't know why was that but she decided that she must not spoil this beautiful night by talking about  'pains '.

" Excuse me, do you mind ? "

Hearing her voice, he raised his head to see her standing near the sound stereo system, she had some CD in her hand.

" I mean, it's my favourite one, I want to listen it right now during the dinner "

" No problem " He said, helping Saba to drink water.

" Thanks " She smiled. Turning the sound system on, she returned to her chair.

Soft musical notes began to surround them as they ate silently.

Yeh shaam phir nahin aaey gee,

Iss shaam ko, iss saath ko,

Aao.....

Amar kar lein

They ate rest of the dinner in silence. It seemed like they were talking to each other without ever speaking a single word.

Dil ki baatein sabhi,

Dil kahey, Hum sunein

Hont khaamosh hon,

Aankehin kehti rahein

Aankhon Aankhon mein

Baaton Baaton mein

Jeevan basar kar lein

Amar kar lein

Yeh shaam phir nahin aaey gee,

Their eyes playing a continous sweet battle.  His up, hers down. Then hers up, his down. His brave, hers shy. They stole each other's glance whenever they got the chance.

Mein tumhaarey qareeb, Tum merey pass ho

Aur kuch ho na ho, Bus yeh ahsaas ho

Aankhon Aankhon mein

Baaton Baaton mein

Jeevan safar kar lein

Amar kar lein

Yeh shaam phir nahin aaey gee,

And then with the beats, along with the soft dreamy music, she found herself getting lost in the musical trance. She saw herself walking along with him, side by side, smiling, talking, laughing.

Aik doojey mein Gum,

iss tarah Hum jiyain

Haath mein haath ho,

Lamha lamha bahein

Aankhon Aankhon mein

Baaton Baaton mein

Jeevan....... Sahar kar lein

Amar kar lein

Yeh shaam phir nahin aaey gee,

Saba was asleep before they had even finished the dinner. Sameer lifted her off the chair and walked to his mother's room.

Once back, he led Kiran into the living room.

" Well, the dinner has been smashing. " She smiled.

" Thank you " He murmured. " You stay here, I'll go and make us both some coffee or would you prefer tea ? " He asked as she sat beside the old antique paino set.

But she didn't reply. It seemed like mentally she was present some where else.

" Wow " Her voice was filled with appreciation and excitement. " Is this yours ? "

On her question, she noticed his features tightened.

" No " He said coldly. " It was Kashish's gift to Kisa on our first wedding anniversary "

" I must say, Kashish has a wonderful choice " She looked deep into his eyes.

On her meaningful sentence, he averted his eyes away.

" Do you love her ? "

On her question, Sameer looked at her, conscious of the sudden change in the atmosphere, a rise in his own personal tempo.

She observed him, studying her from strangely solemn eyes.

He was at a loss of words, and she filled the silence with her own.

Was it her imagination or had the conversation stopped between them?

" I don't like it when you ask silly questions. " His voice was louder than normal.

She sat upright, tense and still, and watched his profile intently. He wasn't talking like a man in love or was he ? his voice was impatient, irritated, his face matched his tone. Was this he really felt or pretending?

She laughed then.

" Forget I asked. Coffee would be great. " Kiran slid her hand around the back of her neck, flipped her hair forward over one shoulder in a habitual gesture.

After he had gone into the kitchen for their coffee, Kiran sighed.

She frowned and chewed anxiously on her bottom lip. There was something different about Sameer. She was aware of a tension within him that she had never noticed before. Sameer was always so calm and controlled. She rarely seen him lose his temper, never heard him raise his voice. He was a man of infinite resource and capability, adept at concealing his thoughts and his feelings, and yet today she had sensed that that control was slipping.

He returned with two coffee mugs in his hands. He handed her one and then sank into an easy chair in front of her.

" May I, lady ? " He suddenly asked.

" Oh " She gasped in pure astonishment. He had cigarette case in his hand.

" Only if you like "

" Thanks "

Keeping the coffee mug for a while, he lit up the cigarette smoothly with the help of a golden lighter.

Not every man takes coffee and tobacco at the same time. She wondered.

Kiran stared in fascination as he sat in front of her, with his one leg placed freely on the other in a typical masculine gesture. His hands were of medium size, well shaped with long, slender fingers, cute hands.....caring hands.

Her eyes went to the long, supple fingers of his right hand clasping his mug, nails rounded and well manicured, skin smooth as velvet, and yet thick and strong as silk, covered by soft, fine black hair.

Next her gaze lingered upon his left hand. She particularly noted the style with which his fingers jerked the cigarette in the ashtray, to remove the ash with a certain delicacy.

They both sipped their coffee for a moment, then Kiran said, " Would you like to listen some ? " She pointed toward the huge piano set.

" Sure, my pleasure. " He half-smiled and raised his coffee mug in acknowledgement.

On his approval, she sat on the chair attached with the huge Piano set. Slowly, she put her fingers over the uniformly arranged black and white piano buttons.

The lamplight was a warm, golden glow, it made the atmosphere truly touching and romantic.

She began to play with piano.

It was very fantastic atmosphere, a dream-like reality, as the lean, long slender fingers began to do the magic on the black and white buttons.

And yet it was not enough.

Sameer got a wonderfully shocking and strangely pleasant surprise when she began to sing.

Yes, she was singing an old classical song in fluent Urdu language.

Lag ja galey ke......

Phir yeh haseen raat ho na ho

Shayed phir iss janam mein....

Mulaqaat ho na ho

His head fell back as he inhaled a thick puff of smoke, the cigarette between his long, male fingers looked very lonely. The whole room was lightly fragrant with her pure feminine scent. Waves of disturbing intensity were emitting from her body. She was a woman, a wonderful, attractive one...a desirable mass of female beauty.

Hum ko mili hain aaj yeh....

Ghariyaan naseeb sey

Jee bhar ke dekh leejiyey...

Hum ko qareeb sey

Phir aap ke naseeb mein,

Yeh Raat ho na ho

Shayed phir iss janam mein....

Mulaqaat ho na ho

Kiran glanced at Sameer, who sat with his arms folded across his chest, listening to her performance with concentration.

When her gaze met his, he blew cigarette smoke at some unseen image hidden in the air.

Pass aai'yay, ke Hum nahin....

Aaein gey baar baar

Baanhein galey mein daal ke...

Hum ro lein zaar zaar

Aankhon sey phir yeh Pyaar ki....

Barsaat ho na ho

Shayed phir iss janam mein....

Mulaqaat ho na ho

As she sang, she found herself going to some other land. Apparently her eyes were on piano buttons, but she was present some where else.

The fantastic window of imagination brought her to the dream land for a while. And for a moment she forgot where she was and who she was. 

Dressed in a cream-coloured bridal Lehnga, she was standing in her bed-room. Waiting for him with all of her might. And then he appeared from the door with the grace of a king. Smiling, he walked towards her in slow, steady steps. Her breaths stopped. Yes, she had craved for this very mement. She had prayed for this magical instant. She wanted nothing but him. Nothing else mattered to her but him. She just wanted the comfort and security of his arms. He came near her, grabbed her arm, turned her towards him efficiently so that she came face to face with him.

" I feel you smiling. " He whispered.

He lifted one of his hand to cap her head before his slender, masculine fingers slid down again to savor the texture of her hair, trace the outline of her cheekbone, then her nose and chin and lips. His fingers closed over her arm once again, drawing her more nearer towards him. She could smell the typical male scent of his body. This close, he took her face in both of his hands, bringing his mouth so close to hers that that she felt the warmness and flow of his breath. A pause so long that Kiran thought it might never end, that she would stand here always, breathing in the scent of him, staring at his uncompromising mouth and wondering how would it feel.

Completely forgetting in that wonderful instant where she was, Kiran found herself submitting---- more than submitting, letting him pull her nearer, lifting her shaken arms until they circled his neck. While one of her hands stroked the thickness of his deep black hair, the other grazed his cheek with trembling fingers. He angled his head and then his lips were near hers...barely an inch away from hers. As he leaned down, her lashes fluttered closed. Their breaths touched each other. Her lips tingled, parted. Then his breath touched the corner of her lips, not touching yet it travelled sideway, grazing her cheek like a velvet.

" Thank you" He breathed in her ear then smiling, turned back.

" Hey what happened? where're you ? " Sameer's voice brought her back to the reality.

For the first time, she realized that she was trembling inside, her whole body was sweating profusely.

" Nothing " She laughed huskily. " I was dreaming. "

" I thought so. " He smiled.

" But why did you thank me ? " She asked.

" Because you performed so wonderfully. It was a pleasure listening to you. "

" Oh, acha " She was confused. " I learnt this song, though I know its urdu was difficult for me. "

" Perfect " He whispered, a glint of appreciation in his eyes. " You're a perfect singer and a born musician. "

" Now, you're flattering me " She chuckled.

" No, you're great, nice and wonderful "

Kiran's mouth fell open on his sudden, unexpected compliments. He'd never been like this.

" And that's what Ammi thinks too " He added.

" Yes, me and Ammi had a talk last night " He said in a low, calm tone.

" About you.... " His voice touched the strings of her heart.

Kiran's beats quickened. Her heart was hammering so hard that she wondered wildly if this was some sort of early heart-attack warning. She was totally unprepared for what he was telling her.

She then saw his hand to his packet as he took out a small maroon box.

" And it's our mutual decision to offer you this. " His hand reached out near hers.

With trembling fingers, she took the box from him.

He looked at her for a minute, his eyes intently searching her face.

" Open it " He commanded gently.

She gave him a smile and opened the box with swift eagerness.

On a bed of black velvet lay a square cut sapphire ring, the deep blue stone surrounded by heart shaped diamonds.

Involuntarily, Kiran brought a finger to touch the brightly coloured light blue sparkling diamonds. She had fallen in love with it at the first sight.

Holding it in her hand, and still staring at the fabulous gift, she said, " It's charming. Thank you so much. "

She glanced at Sameer.

" I'm glad you liked it " He answered tonelessly, and as their eyes met, she thought his looked a little uneasy.

" I'd like you to accept it as an engagement present, " He went on, without even knowing she had lost hers senses.

It had been difficult enough for her to realize that he had an extraordinary effect on her.

He made her feel so alive, so much like a woman. She was so shocked at the moment that she didn't know what to say or what to think. She couldn't believe her ears. She tried to tell herself that it was some kind of joke but when she looked at him, all of her doubts vanished away.

Oh this was what she'd always wanted.

Speechlessly, she looked up at him, cathing the expression in his eyes, eyes that were enormous and anxious.

" I'm asking you to marry me. " He added simply.

" Shhhhh..... " She put her index finger on her lips.

" Say it again. " She breathed.

Puzzled, he repeated. " I want you to be my wife.  "

His words were right, but the tone wasn't. It seemed to her as if she has his word but not his heart. She couldn't think further.

" Say it again," She went on.

Let's talk more slowly

As someone would be listening the beats

These walls, these doors have ears

And would hear all the secrets

Talk like.....

Only heart could hear the story

And eyes could repeat it

Let's talk more close

let's close all the doors

So that night won't steal the dreams

And no breeze could take them away

Let's come so close today

that there would be no distances

Between you and me, just the two of us

" Tell me Sameer, it's not a dream. " Colour stained her cheeks. She blinked rapidly, determined not to let Sameer see her cry.

" It's ....not... a..... dream " Words came in parts from his mouth.

" After you have given this ring," Kashish said slowly. " I have some rights on you, and using those rights Sameer, I want to know about Kashish"

His facial features changed instantly, like he's trying to gain some patience. Like he's making his mind for some thing.

Neither of them made conversation for minutes.

" I wanted to marry her " He finally opened his mouth, letting out a long breath.

She didn't interrupt him then.

" I thought she was interested too " He continued. " She gave those looks, those expressions, which sure made me feel like she loves me. "

Taking a little pause, he lit another cigarette and then began again.

" She just didn't tell me by words, but her eyes, her gestures, all kept screaming that she loves me. Besides, she'd expressed her love in her childhood too. Though I didn't take her too serious then . "

" And then, she suddenly she turned her back to me, when I proposed her. " Completing his sentence, he closed his eyes for a while.

Oh, Kiran gasped, feeling real pain for this wonderful man who sat in front of her.

" What did she say ? " She asked for the first time.

" She.... " He laughed weirdly. " She said she loves some other man. "

" And who was he ? "

" Dr.Shahraam, their family doctor. "

" What else did she say ? " Kiran's breath quickened.

" Nothing " He closed his eyes again. " She said they are waiting just because of Kisa "

" WHAT ?? " Kiran's voice rose above than normal.

" She said, as soon as Kisa gets married, they would do the same "

" I see " She said, lost in deep thoughts. Some thing was strange, some thing was weird. The whole story felt like, well, some well-made plan. She thought.

She shook her head, then glanced at her watch.

" Oh, it's too late, I should be going now. " Picking up her purse, she rose.

" You didn't answer yet. " He asked.

" About what ? "

" About me proposing you. Do you have any objections ? " He asked with concern.

" Oh no, not at all. " As she said, her cheeks burned. " Just give me some formal time, for few preparations. Do you know what I mean, hehe"

" Oh, alright lady. " He laughed.

He walked her to the door and opened it for her. Kiran glanced up at him.

" So good of you to come on dinner tonight," He said smoothly.

She gave him a genuine smile.

" The pleasure was all mine "

As she climbed into her car and ignited the engine, she glanced at her closed fist and smiled. Slowly, she opened it. Her hand still had the ring he had given. She didn't wear it yet, but she had made her mind.

Yes, I would marry him. She decided and smiled. She felt complete, and sure that she had made the right decision as she felt his closeness. It was so good to feel a man who cared, a man who could love her for herself and not her body, she thought ecstatically.

I would keep this gift for a more special occasion, when his own hands will help me to wear to this. Smiling shyly, she pressed the accelerator.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

" Ladies and Gentlemen, tonight we're honoured to have a privilege of being with a wonderful personality of Pakistan."

The anchor's voice came out of the T.V, and echoed through the room, but it was unnoticed by Sameer as he continued to flip the pages of the book he was reading, " Social History of America,  ".

" Poor red-indians and half-breeds " He thought and smiled.

Saba sat beside him on the bed, with her favourite dolls in her lap and the plate of pop corns in her hands.

" Achieving the highest marks in the capital of Pakistan, this ambitious lady also holds the record for being the youngest female CSP officer appointed by the Government of Pakistan. So ladies 'N gentlemen, please welcome Miss. Kashish Salman Ali "

Even then Sameer didn't hear what was going on the T.V as he was lost in the book and in his own thoughts.

Suddenly Saba began to giggle and clap her small hands which broke his concentration.

Putting the book aside, he first stared at Saba and then following her cute eyes, he turned his face towards the T.V Screen.

It was not really a shock for him, as he'd already been aware of Kashish's popularity and reputation through other sources of media.

Not finding himself in the position to hear her anymore, he tried to change the channel, but Saba gave him an angry look. She was clearly protesting.

" Okay, okay, sorry " He said, trying to control himself.

He tried to open his book again but her voice didn't allow him to do so.

" Miss. Kashish do you think you're unique ? " Interviewer was a smart young man, Sameer noted as he asked the question with interest.

" I think we all are unique and different. No two human beings are exactly alike. Some times these differences are not very prominent, but still they're always present. " She answered confidently. Confidence and determination were her hall marks. No doubt, her ' internal ' qualities to impress others were not less than her "external' ones.

" I would now like to ask some personal questions, but only if you allow "

" Sure, I'm a ' person'  ofcourse, so I don't mind ' personal' questions, as long as they make sense " She said soberly and  softly.

" Well said " The anchor smiled. " We often see you in white cloths, any specific reason for that Miss.Kashish? " As he asked the question, Sameer noticed that the interviewer was still smiling.

On this question, Sameer took a detailed look of hers. She was looking very traditional and eastern tonight. She wore a plain, white Saarhi, with plain white full-sleeved blouse. There was this big white scarf which covered her hair completely and not just hair, it was spread down to her upper body too, giving her a ' holy ' touch. Over all, she looked like a woman who represented her gender, culture and religion to a considerable extent.

" It gives rest to my heart and peace to my soul. " She smiled back. " White, a symbolic expression for peace and calmness. "

" I see " He became serious.

" Ah no no " She laughed lightly. " I'm not a dead soul. I just like silence, simplicity and peace. "

" So, Miss. Kashish you're not married, any plans in the near future ? "

" No, not at all " Her voice was plain and expressionless , just like her face.

" Why, may I ask ? "

" Hmm, I love someone " She said ina casual tone." The question of marriage with some one who's not ' him ' is useless. So if I ever get married, It would be only with ' him ', Insha'Allah. "

" Wow, thanks for being honest and frank "

" I'm always like this   "

" Your viewers would probably want to know that how does it feel to love some one ? "

" Well .... " She took a long sigh and then closed her eyes for a moment. " It hurts to love some one. "

" You mean, for you it's a hurting experience, right ? "

" No, even generally speaking, I think if you don't feel pain or hurt in some relation, it can't be called as a human relationship. " She replied matter--of-factly. " Love does hurt you alot. If it doesn't, then it's not love "

" Well..... I see " The anchor was clearly impressed now. "  And what about him ? Does he love you too ? "

" Don't know really. But I'm sure he hates me so you can say, yes, may be he loved me too . "

" Really ? well that's interesting. But how can you say that ? "

" Because where is hatred, there is love too "

" Umm, one more question Miss.Kashish. " He requested.

" Sure "

" What's your favourite sher   ? "

" There are many, but the sher I read most often is....

Leaving her sentence unfinished, she became straight, facing the Camera. On the T.V screen she appeared like she was directly speaking to Sameer, looking into his eyes.There was some strange boldness in her expression. Like she knew he was watching her.

Sameer's heart beats became fast for no reason at all. Or was there some reason ?

She closed her eyes then, but opened her lips. When she spoke, she had the sweetest voice but the most sad tone.

Apni Aankhon ke Samandar mein utar Jaaney dey

Teri mujrim hoon, mujhey doob ke mar jaaney dey 

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Larka Tumhaara kanwaara reh jaata

Ke Maano, humara Ahsaan

Ke Larki ne ' Haan ' kar dee

Unable to hear the wedding song any more, Muskaan placed her hands on her ears. As she sat on the stairs, dressed in her plain yellow ' Maayon ' suit, she could hear the giggles, laughters and chuckles of the guests. Tomorrow was her wedding day and at the moment, whole of the house was fully loaded with guests who were staying at her place to attend the wedding.

Every one was happy, every face was smiling. Every eye was filled with enjoyment. There was only one person in the whole house who looked sad, confused and frustrated, and this person was the bride herself, Muskaan.

With a sheer look of pure disappointment, she put her face on her knees, like doing so would enable her to hide her expressions, her feelings, her thoughts.

" May I have a word with you in private? "

On hearing the sudden, unexpected voice, she raised her head and saw Jahanzaib standing beside her.

She just stared at him blankly, not knowing what to say.

" Please ? " He asked again.

Short of being rude she couldn't refuse. She preceded him into her father's study.

What on earth did he want ?

Once inside the study, he motioned her to sit down but she didn't obey. He didn't sit either.

" You are getting married Muskaan, hmmm? accept my congratulations " Jahanzaib's mouth tightened in the most painful way.

" Thanks " She said simply, turning her face away to stare at the huge collecetion of books neatly placed in the shelves.

" Excited ? "

" Ofcourse. " She said firmly. " Every eastern girl dreams of her wedding since the day she's born "

" I know... but I thought you're not a ' dream-kind' of person. "

" Why not ?" She turned her head to look at him. " I was half dreaming about about the wedding when you came along few moments ago " 

" And me ?" He said.

There was that glitter in his eyes again that made her throat dry.

" What ? "

" You must have dreamed of me, too. " His voice was low and grainy, rippling down the back of her neck.

Muskaan stared at him, wondering if he could possibly know just what a weakness she had for a voice like this.

" I... I guess you might have got the wrong idea, " Saying this she started to step towards the door, but the second she took a step, he came in front of her, blocking her way.

Startled, Muskaan gasped. " Let go of me ."

" Stop this silly business Muskaan. It's enough now. " He said firmly, his voice louder than normal, his tone serious.

Caught in the sure grip of of his strong eyes, her eyes wide and heart slamming against her ribs, she stared up at him. She'd never seen him angry before.

" Wha... What do you mean ? " She tried to speak.

" We have to sort things out between us "

He was very confident.

" There's nothing between us, Jahanzaib. " She frowned, her typical stubbornness returning to her mind again.

" Ah that's the whole problem girl . " He cut in sharply. " There 're lot of things between us. "

" And there is ... " He moved closer. " There is something between us which we both are trying to deny."

"  What're we trying to deny ? " She looked up into his magical eyes. As she did so, her body began to shake and she couldn't breath.

" Something which we should accept. " He said, or his eyes said, she didn't know. She was lost.

" Accept what ?"

" The fact "

" What's the fact ? "

' Love "

" No "

" Yes"

" Okay " She took a fast breath." May be I liked you. But that doesn't mean I didn't hate you, too."

" I see " He sighed, looked away for a moment then stared back at her again. "are you sure there is nothing between us?"

" Ye.....yes " She swallowed hard, her lips started to tremble. Only then she realized that her whole body was trembling since the time she'd entered this place with him.

" You're trembling. " He observed.

She closed her eyes momentarily to stop staring at him.

" You're crying. " He said tightly, coming closer.

She drew back.

" Look into my eyes, girl " He finally stopped moving.

" Oh stop it Jahanzaib. " She sobbed.

His face softened as he saw the glitter of her tears.

" Why're you crying , hmm ? " He asked, huskily.

" Please, I beg you. " She didn't move, either; she was crying silently, tears trickling down her wheatish cheeks.

" Tell me do you love me ?" His voice demanded clear-cut honesty and courage. So does love.

"  Break all the walls. Just tell me once, only once. Do you hate me ? or love me ? " He said with a bluntness that brought the blood to her face.

Moments passed, no answer from her.

" Tell me Muskaan, please be honest with me. Be honest with yourself. Don't hurt yourself anymore. "

She closed her eyes, the tears leaked out under her eyelids and ran down her cheeks.

" Don't you love me ? " He repeated.

" No..... no " Tears didn't seem to leave her eyes. She shut them, shaking her head.

" I , I hate...you.... " She said atlast. Her voice betraying her expression. She was shaken.

" What? " He asked plainly. " Sorry, could you just say it again please ? I didn't hear you. "

" I  .....hate you.....I ....hate...you... I ... " Red faced, she tried to open her mouth.

" While your lips are saying you hate me, your eyes are telling me the opposite. " He continued, not seeming to hear,

" No " She shook her head. " I... I hate you "

" I see...but you know what... I don't hate you. " His voice was soft, confident and matter-of-fact, a sharp contrast to hers at the moment.

" Jaha....Jahanzaib--- " She croaked, staring at him, wanting to say something meaningful but she didn't know what. She thought she should know at a moment like this, exactly what she felt for him.

" Infact........ " He took a pause, and glared directly into her deep eyes.

" I love you " He whispered softly.

And that was what she needed. His confession swept all the inhibitions, wiped off all the limitations and broke every dam.

" Me...mme ..me too " Her sobs became louder, colour flooding her cheeks.

" You what ? "

" Oh.. God.... yes..I LOVE YOU... and I hate myself for that. " Screaming, she hid her face in her hands.

She didn't stop then.

" We can't do anything now. " She was crying like a little baby girl.

" Tomorrow is my wedding. I can't destroy the trust my parents have on me. I can't ruin my family's reputation. I have already said ' yes '. Shahroz's family already has our ' word ' " She sobbed uncontrollably.

" Oh Muskaan you took so long to say just these two simple words." His own eyes were heavy with tears now. "  Girls like you spoil their whole life just because of this unnecessary hesitation. "

" Forgive me " She rubbed her cheeks, a useless effort to wipe her tears.

" I know, I can't get you now " He whispered. She felt like his voice was coming from miles away.. " But atleast now I've a content feeling that our love was mutual. "

He took a little pause then began again.

" I'm leaving this country tomorrow. I'm going to Australia"

" No no " Muskaan shook her head. She swallowed, her throat hurting. He was going away. Jahanzaib was leaving her, going thousands of miles away. She might never see him again.

" Forgive me too " He said without any expression. " As I won't be able to attend your wedding as a guest. I just can't see you as a bride, sitting beside some one else. " His voice became thick and hurting in the end. " I just can't see you in all those bridal charms, only prepared for some other man. "

On his comment, Muskaan raised her head and looked into his eyes. A big, warm tear escaped out of the corner of one of his eyes. Slowly, he raised his index finger to remove it.

" Allah Hafiz " He said and turned back so fast that if he'll look at her again, he would become stony.

The door closed behind him.

Tears in eyes, Muskaan stared after him. His words, his sight, his remarks made her feel like the infatuated adolescent she'd never had the chance to be.The only difference was that of the feeling. It was pure love, no doubt about that. And she'd just confessed about that.

Fire, water and Jahanzaib. To be avoided or taken in very small doses.

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Click here to read the remaining last part of this story

BUS..... TUM KO PAANA HAI !
A Story By IKRAM

ABIDI'S UNIVERSE