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Hello fellow QH-ians!
😆😆 I know I know...I keep appearing outta nowhere, dropping OSs and then disappearing again. It's kind f my routine.
I love apparition. Complete with those D's and all. *looking around to see if someone's gonna throw a brickbat at me for the Potter references*
Anyways, am back this time with an OS that is actually an alternate to the Nikaah events. This is how it played out in my head.
~BLURRED~
Shafts of moonlight splintered the canopy of darkness on the balcony. Zoya stood there, leaning sideways against the balustrade trying to mute the nervousness clamoring at her insides. She'd be getting married tomorrow. 'Married'- the word sent another flutter of anxiety down her spine.
It was a world of the unfamiliar.
There'd be a whole new meaning to togetherness. "And no am thinking of pillow talk," she told herself in her best I-too-can-be-righteous voice. Okay, admittedly she was thinking a little about it. But then, didn't she officially have a reason to? Come morrow morn, she'd have exclusive rights over Mr. Khan's messy morning looks.
"I wonder what's causing that smile. If it's anything other than me I might need to look into the matter," a voice made her jump. She wrenched her gaze away from the sightless stars and amusing monologue to see Mr. Khan standing a few paces away from her. He stepped out into the balcony, coming to stand beside her.
The twinkle in his rich caramelized eyes slashed her lungs, rendering her breathless. Was this how it was gonna remain after marriage too? Would her heart still do its routine of a thousand flips per minute and her breath sink into a realm of non-existence upon seeing him? She hoped not. She needed to live happily ever with him. Not die outta the sheer force of his handsomeness.
"Nothing. It's nothing," she waved off the comment, feeling the pink tingeing her cheeks.
"Coffee?" He extended a mug of steaming, magical caffeine. She accepted it gratefully. Their fingers lightly brushing against the background of the warm ceramic. It was brief. It was transient. It was surreal.
To fill the silence that seemed to have stalked him here, she swiped tendrils of her hair from her face, swirled the coffee, swiped some more and then swirled some more. Silences always annoyed her. They made her feel uneasy and her thoughts always slithered off to the most random topic available. In this instance, stars.
"I've always wondered why people wish on stars. It's heart-warming but I never quite understood why only stars. The sun is bigger and looks more cuddly with little spikes for rays. The moon is steadier. The sky is a bully, it's more vast," she rambled on.
"Let's just say that even God can be bribed by a little glitter," the playfulness in his tone stunned her.
Someone was in a good mood, she beamed. "You seem happy," she noted aloud.
"I am," he dimpled at her.
Sparks in her head went off with a display text saying: Note to self- Breathe in, breathe out.
"Wow! Mr. Khan. Are you gonna do a handspring for me next? Moonwalk? Or maybe recite poetry?" she quipped.
"Have a list. But it starts off with marrying you," he winked. "Will add these to it, for later."
She felt the smile right down to her toes. Holy Smoke! Mr. Khan in this mood was lethal. He was flirting with her. Was this for real? She needed to get bulldozed to actually believe it.
"Go to sleep Miss. Farooqui, tomorrow is gonna be a pretty long day. Despite it making a cute sight, we don't want you dozing in front of the Maulvi," he wheeled around walking towards the door.
"Good night Mr. Khan. And cause you were nice to me for once, I grant you permission to be fashionably late tomorrow."
She went back to studying the star-sprinkled sky, her heart lighter and a tune dallying about her lips.
"Zoya..."
He was looking at her with an intensity that smudged away any thought daring to take form.
"Yet, if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day, Then look for me by moonlight, Watch for me by moonlight, I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way."
She couldn't help herself. The laughter thundered out of her soul, setting itself free into the expanse of the night. "You better Mr. Khan. You better."
He grinned cheekily at her before disappearing through the door.
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The blow to his head should've knocked him out unconscious, but it hadn't. This wasn't exactly the moment to appreciate that he was thick-headed quite literally. Ms. Farooqui was a genius with nicknames. His eyes shuttered close to block out the pain centralizing at the back of his head. He reached behind to the massage away the numbness gathering there.
The pinprick to his arm caught him unawares, again. He was being drugged. The realization got him reacting quick. He swatted away the still full syringe away from it's hold on his body, sending it to the ground. His eyes lifted up to Tanu who stood before him. What in deuce's name was happening here? Anger, stormy and earnest escalated to his eyes and he recognized the frustration flashing in hers.
The stench of evil hit harder than the blow. A sense of unreality descended over him. Tanu. Tanveer. His childhood friend. His dazed mind still couldn't piece together the confusion.
"Jammy, stop fighting it,"she said in an almost bored voice. "This is how it's supposed to be. You and me. I'm just ensuring it," she added with a shrug.
"Tanu, what are you talking about?" he perplexedly spat.
"Oh! Life in general. Our marriage, in specific. I'm just ensuring it. Now be a good boy. I don't think you'll enjoy this much without some of that in you system," her head flicked in the direction of the abandoned syringe.
"I love Zoya," he roared, stepping back aghast.
"We'll get that fixed later," she moved to pick up the instrument. "I love violence. I don't think you have a taste for that. Hence, this little blessing."
Asad didn't wait another second before snatching it away from her hands and tossing it far away, somewhere into the crates stacked up at the side.
"What the..." she hissed, "You'll wish you hadn't done that," her eyes flashed at him furiously. He rolled his eyes, much like he did with all the bad horror flicks Ayaan made him watch. With a mighty stride, he turned around and strode towards the exit.
He didn't feel the first slice. Not even the second. It was the third that greeted him to the sight of blood gushing out of his arm. The knife had done it's work neatly. A row of three precise cuts, purported to ensure heavy blood loss.
"Let's keep this pretty, Jammy" she rasped from behind him, the knife positioned at his carotid. "It's simple. You don't walk away from here. You don't reach there. That's all there is."
He was losing blood. He could feel his body under siege. A few more hours and he'd be out. The carotid slice wouldn't spare him even a measly hour. It was crucial that she be distracted for a second atleast.
"I walk away from here Tanveer. And you walk away from my life too. No cops. No nastiness. Everything forgotten," he tried to bribe.
The steel pressed against his skin further. "No Jammy. Doesn't work that way. If I don't have you. Nobody does." Malevolence dripped every syllable she uttered. How could he have been so obtusely blind?
He felt her cold lips against his shoulder. "We'll be fine Jammy. You'll see. We'll live a happy life together." He didn't lose the moment, spinning around he flung the knife out of reach and gave her a shove after it. No, he didn't ill treat women but then not every woman contrived to drug him, keep him from his marriage by holding a knife against his throat.
He didn't wait to see if she pulled herself up. He was out of the factory as fast as his legs could carry him. The blood loss didn't bother him too much. It could be stanched. He just needed to get to the venue of the Nikaah. Away from the sign of his gullibility.
His right arm wasn't of much use, using his left arm he fished out his car keys and plugged it into the slot breathing life into the car engine. Holding onto his breath, he revved up, following the road out of the factory premises.
A momentary veil of black settled before his eyes as his rebelling body succumbed to the dizziness. Shaking himself alert, he tightened his grip on the wheel. The glass of his windscreen shattered, sending smithereens of it his way. For someone as frail as Tanveer, she held a lot of strength. The iron rod left her grip as she struck again. It came at him with a momentum he wasn't ready for, smashing against his forehead and busting his cheekbone. It remained lodged in destroyed windscreen, the focus of the spiderweb, as he swerved the car around, avoiding her and driving away.
*****************************************************************
He was late. He was very late. But the important thing was he was here. Maybe not as handsome as he'd wanted to look for her. Maybe not wearing the cleanest of clothes. Maybe not even strong enough to do a handspring for her. But he was here.
He was shocked to realize how drained he felt. It took him a good four tries to get the car door to open. Dragging himself out, he made an effort to not crumble to the ground.
That'd be embarrassing. Humiliating even. Walking into his Nikaah on his fours.
He heard the gasps that followed him but couldn't care enough to give him his signature glare. His eyes sought only the people who mattered to him. His family. His Zoya.
He stumbled over his wretched feet, hurtling forward into someone. "Bhai," the shock registered in his head. He looked up into Ayaan's eyes. Astonishment, fury and mangled pain sheltered in there. "What happened?" his arms came around to hold Asad upright.
"Asad," the cry was drenched in torment. His neck allowed him to see Ammi and Najma running upto him, plain horror on their faces. "Kaise hua yeh sab Asad?" The shock translated into tears and her cheeks grew wet. Najma stood beside him, her hands keeping contact on his good arm.
His family still wasn't complete. His eyes sought her. And found her.
She was dressed in a beautiful mauve and silver embroidered Anarkali bridal suit that fell to her ankles. It made her look ethereal. Stick fluffed up white wings, add a shiny halo and she'd be poster girl of heaven.
She was walking towards him, her steps excruciatingly slow. When she was close enough, he could see the anguish plundering her heart. Her dimples were buried away in a place of no return. Tell tale tremors rocked her frame. The tears still fought not to fall down. They bravely fought. They mortifyingly lost.
"I'm okay. Just not in a good shape," he whispered for everyone's benefit. They totally ignored him. The sobs were struggling to make their crescendo. Dilshad threw her arms around him, her tears searing into the material of his grimed sherwani. He wished he could make them all stop. But he knew he couldn't.
"My six packs are intact." This to Zoya, whose tears fell far away from him and yet burned his soul just as much. There wasn't even a flicker of a smile. He needed to see her smile.
Najma's fingers trembled as she punched in the numbers to call for an ambulance. He wouldn't be needing that. A calmness was rooting in his mind. The mirage of an oblivion just minutes away.
"I love you," he looked right into her, "I always have. We never got to spend enough time together but I still love what little of it I've spent with you."
He didn't need her to put her feelings into words. She already had. In many of her small gestures. She loved him with everything in her and he knew it. Was glad for it.
"Ammi, am sorry. For every little upset I've caused you. I love you, you've been the best thing about my life," he murmured into her hair, his hug fortifying. "Ayaan..." his voice cracked. He could feel his throat constricting with each effort he made to speak. He just pulled him closer, conveying how much he treasured the love and togetherness they'd shared over the years despite being on the opposite lines.
Najma snuggled closer to him, in a bid for attention. He ruffled her hair, chuckling a breathy "Tamatar" before dropping a peck on her forehead.
Zoya still stood away. But then, she couldn't possibly be any nearer to his heart than she already was. He gestured for her to come closer. One last time. He needed to touch her. She did, her eyes rimmed with red and her lips quivering with emotion. His fingers grazed her cheek, the place where her dimple would've been had been smiling.
"Yet, if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day, Then look for me by moonlight, Watch for me by moonlight, I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way."
The words weren't delivered smoothly. There were those unintended gaps in between and the voice wasn't as warm but it had the effect he wanted. A ghost of a smile skimmed past her lips before her heartbreaking sob bubbled over and tore at his heart.
And that was the last thing he remembered. Her faint smile. Before everything blurred...into nothingness.
PS- Shizz! I deleted off my post script. Just didn't seem nice after the reactions am getting.
In my defense, I was remembering Aashiqui 2 while writing this.
And to make it better...Just imagine he fainted away. Okay? 😳
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