Asad-Zoya FF: Sand Clock: Chapter 4 pg 10 - Page 2

Hello people I'm back here! 🤗

Can't wait to read further 

Looks really amazing concept😊

But what about other stories are you going to put them on hold or what?

Hope to get updates regularly 😉

Really love it

Asad coughed heavily and waved his hand around to part the dust cloud surrounding him as he stumbled ahead. Darkness and suffocation had lasted only for few moments. Now, with coughing subsided, dust cloud left behind, his footing sure, he gaped at the innocently shining old Victorian street lamp. He kept gaping stretching his neck muscles as the lamp bathed him in golden light. He forgot all about why he was here, the old man he was chasing and just gaped at the beauty hanging many feet above the ground illuminating empty stretch of six-lane road. He hadn't noticed that his heartbeats had shot roof nor that he had goosebumps all over his arms covered in silky material of his achkan. Only thing he was aware of was of dust motes lazily moving in Brownian motion under the anchor of light; his body and brain's way to get back to normalcy. And, it worked. His heart rate subsided, goosebumps flattened. A loud honk from a passing car broke his reverie. He shielded his eyes with a raised arm as they were suddenly assaulted by harsh headlights instead of the soft beauty of lamp before. He instinctively jumped on side as the car zoomed past.

Trance broken now, awareness started creeping in. He looked around and found empty road stretching on both sides and those beautiful lamps spaced evenly as far as his eyes could see. On his right was the wall of the haveli from which he had stumbled on this side enveloped in semi-darkness. Lamp light didn't reach on other side and beyond the wall it was all dark which was very strange given that a mehfil was on and a night as quiet as this should be carrying music created by sitar and tabla. The night did carry a shrill sound and he put his hands on his ears. It was the most unpleasant sound he had ever heard. What was going on?

Again, he heard the wheezing sound? Oh...the root cause of these happenings. Where was that man now? Was he a thief? A spy? An enemy? Asad moved towards the thick wall. The man was lying there. Asad bent down to grab him by collar but stopped seeing the wall. His eyes had adjusted to darkness now and he could make out the wall there was no caving from which he and the stranger had fallen out. He moved his hands on the wall fumbling around in darkness mirroring the movements that the stranger had performed on the other side of the wall. Uneasy feeling settled in his stomach as he made futile efforts to find the hole in the wall. The man was still wheezing and mumbling incoherently. Giving up the search after few minutes, he returned to the man and dragged him under the light. At very right time, as the man was about to place a small white pipe like object in his mouth. He must be carrying it with him on his clothes and had found it even when wheezing in the darkness. He had never seen but had heard how important it was to capture spies alive and how they tried to consume poison on discovery. In one swift movement, he grabbed the object from the man's hand and flung it away. Look of horror descended on the man's face as he looked in the direction where the poison vial was thrown. He held his throat and his chest was heaving now. Asad was bewildered. It seems that the man had already consumed some poison.

"Sipahiyon...Sipahiyon...koi hain?" He shouted towards the silent haveli. He bent down over the man. "Kaun ho tum? Kisne bheja hain? Angezo ke jasoos ho?" He needed to get whatever information he could before the spy died. And, the man was about to die. His eyes were bulging, his lips were darkening, wheezing had stopped and then he passed away. Asad bent further and shook him but no response. His brain was so agitated that he failed to check his pulse which was still beating, feeble but still there.

One more time in the span of few minutes, harsh lights glared at him. This time in multicolor: yellow, blue, red.

"Kya ho raha hain, janab? Kya baat hain?" Two men stepped out of the vehicle, their hands on the gun tied to their waist. The men were strangely dressed. They were Indians but dressed like English. Asad was sure now that he was trapped in some sinister web woven by wretched English. Was Nawab Begum under danger? Or, was she part of it? She was close to English.

"Inhe kya hua hain?"

"Woh...woh...darasal...," He couldn't utter that the man was a spy and had taken his own life on being discovered. If these men were also with English, there was no point. Was there a conspiracy to put the man's murder on his head? Very easy excuse to usurp his riyasat. The nawab was a murderer, not fit to rule. Thoughts ran amok in his mind.

"Ye to behosh hain." One of the strangely dressed man was bent next to the spy and checking his pulse. "Kya hua hain unhe?" He again asked Asad. Asad's face might have given away his mental state. He shook his head and took out a strange instrument from his pocket and to Asad's great surprise talked with it.

"Inspector Sharma, Moti masjid police chowki. Jaldi se ambulance bhijwao. Mahal road pe. Masjid ke baad left lena. Woh jo naya road bana hain naa, haveli ke bagal se nikalata hain. Jaldi bhejo. Ek aadmi behosh ho chuka hain."

Even in dishevelled state, Asad in his royal dress, presented an imposing figure and both the police inspectors treated him respectfully.

"Ghabrane ki koi zarrorat nahi. Ambulance kuch hi minato main aa jaayegi. Aapke Abba huzoor ka ilaj jald se jald hoga. Aap kaun se asptal main le jaane chahte hain?" The way the man was dressed in all fineries, he was not going to take his father to a government hospital.

"Aap dono yahan pahonche kaise? Mera matlab hain aapki car?" The inspector kept asking questions but Asad was silent outwardly and inwardly looking for an opportunity to flee and get back to the haveli.

"Janab, ye raasta to 8 bage se hi sunsaan ho jaata hain. Ye area abhi bhi develop ho raha hain, naa? Yahan paidal chalna mardo ke liye bhi safe nahi hain. Peechle hafte hain ek buzoorg ko loot liya gaya tha, sirf iPhone ke liye. Isi liye humein petroling duty di gayi hain.

And, the unpleasant, shrill sound that Asad had heard just few minutes back but at a distance now approached them. Ambulance had arrived and then there was a flurry of activities as paramedics took over.

"Janab aapne bataya nahi ki aap kaunse asptaal jaana chahte hain?

"Nawab...nawab...," Asad could barely utter that he was Nawab begum's guest.

"Jee bahot khooh. Suno, inhe Nawab Begum hospital le chalo." The inspector told the ambulance driver. Asad knew that this was a perfect opportunity to run and get back to haveli and get some help. As he tried to move away from the ambulance, one paramedic was shutting the back door at the same time and knocked him flat in the process.

"Kambakht, ye kya kiya? The inspector was angry.

"Janaab...janaab...aap theek hain? He shook Asad.

"Kambakht, kaam badha diya. Ab baap-beta dono ka admission humein karwana padega. Kitna paperwork badha diya?

"Sorry, inspector. Pata nahi kyon, ye janab ambulance main andar baithne ki jagah, door jaane ki koshish kar rahe the. Mujhe kaise ilm hota?"

"Theek hain...theek hain...ab isko bhi dekho. Naam tak nahi pooch paaye. He turned towards his fellow officer and said, "Tum thane wapis jaao. Main ambulance main inke saath jaata hoon. Ab to shinakth bhi humein karni padegi." He got inside the ambulance next to two unconscious men. 

"Jaldi...Nawab Begum hospital. Ye buzoorg ki haalat nazook lag rahi hain."

Zoya laughed hard which resulted in her choking on mouthful of Coke. She coughed as the liquid went in wrong pipe and her eyes watered but she was still laughing. She again took a large gulp of Coke to soothe her irritated throat and continued laughing as if nothing had happened. Box of large pizza lay open on coffee table and a comedy movie played on TV. Zoya was relishing the Friday night after a busy work week. They had just released latest version of a popular app and now it was time to breathe easy. Pizza, Diet Coke and a comedy movie in her own, her very own - well, her father paid for it, but still it was in her own name - apartment, lounging in her pajamas on cosiest sofa, what a piece of heaven it was! This was her own home and she was master of this universe. Oh, what a heady feeling it was! And, she didn't miss her parent's mansion back in States a bit. Sometimes, it was hard to believe that in just one year, she had created her own world a job that she loved, friends, her home, her dost upstairs, and her independence. Life was such a cheesy, gooey slice of Pizza pie. She let out a contented sigh as her phone rang.

"Zoya Farooqui?", a nasally voice asked.

"Yes, speaking." Who would call at this hour who was not a friend or relative? Zoya wondered wiping her mouth with back of her hand.

"Aap Rashid Ahmed Khan ko jaanti hain?"

"Jee." She swung her legs on the floor and closed the pizza box.

"Woh Nawab Begum hospital main bharti hain. Asthma attack aaya hain. Aap emergency contact ho?" Hospital attendant had insurance card found in the man's wallet.

"Yes, I am." She stood up and walked towards bedroom to change. "Yes, I am dost's...I mean Rashid Ahmed Khan's emergency contact. Woh kaise hain? His Asthma is under control, phir kaise?"

"Aap hospital aa jaaiye. Sab pata chal jaayega. Aur, haan, unke bete bhi behosh hain. Ambulance ke door se takra gaye."

"What? Wait...unke bete? Unka koi... argh...," Her head was stuck in the T-shirt she was trying to change into.

"Jaldi aaiye." And, the line was dead.

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"Rashid Ahmed Khan. Asthma patient." Zoya was at hospital reception.

"ICU on 4^th floor." The receptionist answered after checking her computer.

"ICU?" Zoya mumbled with fear settling in her stomach and she ran towards elevator.

"Come on...come on...hurry up." She had spent entire ride to hospital worrying about her neighbor-cum-friend-cum-father figure of her life. She even tried to reach a distant relative of his but the phone was unanswered.

"I am Zoya Farooqui. Here to see Rashid Ahmed Khan." She burst into the quiet unit.

"Shhh..." An angry whisper shushed her.

An inspector came near her. "Aap Rashid Ahmed Khan ko milne aayi ho?"

"Yes. What happened?" She was even more worried now seeing police involved. "Was he mugged? Was that what trigged the attack?"

The officer quietly directed her towards the room where Rashid was taken. "Yehi hain?" He needed to be sure. "Yes." Zoya whispered and was by her friend's bed-side, gingerly holding his hand which had a needle inserted in it.

"Inhe kya hua?"

"Aap rishtedaar hain?"

"Nahi...neighbour. Ye mere upar ke apartment main rehte hain. Inka Bhopal main koi rishtedaar nahi hain, is liye main inki emergency contact hoon."

The inspector was confused. What was the son doing then? Maybe, he did not live in Bhopal.

"Per unka beta?"

"What beta? He doesn't have a son." Zoya brusquely cut him off and again turned towards the old man on hospital bed.

"Yes, he has. Wohi to unke saath tha jab inko attack aaya. Bechara apne abba ko aisi halaat main dekh ke bowkhla gaya tha."

"He doesn't have a son." Zoya said through gritted teeth.

"Phir, woh kaun hain?" Now, it was inspector's turn to be confused. He knew about con-man trying to rob elderly folks living alone.  More often seen in Metro cities, but hmm...they were making their way in smaller cities, too. What a fine fellow he looked! Like a nawab!

"Beta...beta...," Zoya felt pressure on her hand.

"Dost...dost...aap theek ho?"

"Beta...," he whispered and closed and opened his eyes as if to say yes. The inspector had also come near bed.

"Kya woh aapka beta hain?"

"Beta...," and he was unconscious again.

"Lo ab to clear ho gaya. Janan Rashid Ahmed Khan ne khud bataya ke woh unka beta hain." The inspector turned a questioning gaze towards Zoya who looked shocked.

"Aap kabse inko jaanti hain?"

"Ek saal se. Jabse main apne apartment main move kiya hain."

"Aur inhone kabhi bhi bete ka zikr nahi kiya?"

"Nahi."

A doctor arrived and interrupted their conversation.

"Don't disturb the patient."

"Doctor, how is he? What happened? His asthma is well under control. He takes his medicines regularly. He always has inhaler on him."

"Well...something triggered it and triggered it bad. He was covered in dust when he was brought in and he was very agitated. His BP was high. He must have been through very stressful situation. Oxygen supply in his blood dropped very low. A few minutes late and we couldn't have done much. He is drifting in and out of consciousness. We need to keep him in ICU for 2-3 days and depending on how he reacts to treatment decide next course of action." Zoya listened as she looked from the doctor to Rashid and back.

"Humein koi inhaler nahi mila. Unka beta bhi shayad isi liye bahot pareshaan tha. Bechara kuchh bol bhi nahi pa raha tha."

"Unka koi beta nahi hain." Zoya let out an irritated whisper.

"O madamji, abhi inhone khud bataya ke woh inka beta hain." Inspector chimed.

"Yes, Asad Ahmed Khan." The doctor said.

"What? He has a name. I mean Rashid uncle's name?"

"Har kisika naam to hota hain. Madamji, maine bahot dekha hain ki har insaan ki zindagi main raaz hote hain. Aur, bahot hi ajeeb haalat main ye raaz khulte hain. Kya pata ye inki naajaayz aulad ho." The inspector had an imagination but there was no malice in his tone.

"Shut up." Zoya glared at him. The inspector did shut up. The doctor was busy checking his patient.

Before anyone else can speak, the police inspector found his voice. He did not like being shut up like that. "Madamji, aap to sirf neighbout ho. Aapko kya inki puri life story jaanti ho? Maine apni career main isse bhi ajeeb kisse dekhe hain." He said puffing his chest.

Zoya didn't like what she heard, not a bit, but what he said was logical. She knew Rashid but it would be foolish to say that she knew everything about him. What if, what if, he really had a son but never talked about him. There can be n number of reasons. He very well might be an illegitimate son as the inspector hinted because as far as she knew Rashid's wife was long dead and they didn't have any children.

"Shayad beta mil jaane ki Khushi main attack aaya ho? Kabhi kabhi khushi se bhi attack aata hain naa?" The inspector continued building his theory.

Both Zoya and doctor gave him a look.

"Jee kyon nahi? Khud ka beta mil jaaye to padoshiyon ke sahare naa rehna pade." Zoya's 'shut up' was still echoing in his ears.

Zoya again glared at him and resented this Asad Ahmed Khan so called son.

"Where is he?"

"Who?"

"Asad. Ahmed. Khan." Zoya enunciated every word still glaring at the inspector. The inspector took a step back.

"He is on first floor. Nothing to worry about. He just conked his head bad. He is also drifting in and out of consciousness. In one such spell of lucidness, I could get his name. There is mild concussion so we are keeping him under observation. If everything is fine, we will discharge him in the morning." The doctor answered as he wrote notes on Rashid's chart.

"Vaise, Miss...," The doctor had stepped closer to her and was talking softly.

"Zoya..."

"Zoya, Asad has many valuables on him. Looks like he was attending a wedding. His own wedding, I would say seeing number of jewels on him. Please check with attending nurse and take possession of those valuables. This is a reputable hospital but man...what the man was wearing!" He shook his head in disbelief.

"Really? Who is this Asad Ahmed Khan?"

"And, be nice to the inspector. He is the one who got your uncle to the hospital. As I said, few minutes late and..." He gave a meaningful look and then walked towards next patient after giving a brief smile.

"Thank you. Thank you, Dr. Kumar." Zoya said to his retreating back. She had read the name tag on his coat Dr Saagar Kumar.

Even when lying unconscious on a hospital bed, in an ill-fitting blue hospital shirt, Asad Ahmed Khan was an imposing figure. Zoya's feet paused at the door as her eyes took him in.

The inspector behind her coughed and she stepped inside feeling conscious.

"Aap rishtedaar hain?" A nurse followed them in.

"Inke rishtedaar ki padosi." The inspector answered.

"Oh.." The nurse hesitated. She wanted to give those jewels to patient or his relative as soon as possible. They were weighing very heavy on her mind. "Woh patient ka saaman...," She took out a plastic bag from a cabinet.

Zoya's eyes widened seeing all jewels. Her mother was fond of jewelry and Zoya could identify a fake and a real gem, and all that she saw was real gems.

The inspector was observing her with narrowed eyes.

"Ye sab police ka paas rahega. Doctor ne bola hain ki patient ko subah discharge kar denge, tab use de denge." He grabbed the bag from nurse's hands. Zoya didn't want anything to do with the man's jewels but she still glared at the officer understanding the meaning behind his gesture. He did not trust her. The nurse was too relieved.

"Madam, sir ko 15 minute pehle hi hosh aaya tha. Koi haveli, mehfil aisa kuchh bol rahe the. Lagta hain ki koi party main the. Aap inke paas baithye. Patient jab apno ko paas dekhta hain, to aise haalat main unki sehat ki liye achha rehta hain." The nurse was trying to be helpful.

"No. I will go back to uncle. He needs someone near him."

The inspector seemed to agree. "Koi kaise shaq kar sakta hain ki ye un janaab ka beta nahi hain? Maatha dekho. Same to same."

Zoya had also observed it. But, she shook her head and turned around. "I need to go back. If you need me for anything." She felt tiny bit sorry for the man and if he really was Rashid uncle's son, then... "If he...he..., just call me on this number." She gave her card to the nurse and walked back towards elevator.

The inspector hurried followed her. "Madamji, mujhe thane vaapis jaana hain. Ye kuchh kagazat sign karne hain." He thrust papers in her hands. Zoya signed them. "Main subab vaapis aaonga."

"Agar koi zaroorat ho to call kijiyega." He gave his card mimicking Zoya.

Zoya took the card and said thank you. The man could not believe his ears but the elevator door had already closed. 

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Can you give us a summary atleast?!

Please 

Just what was the story about and how it had to be ended .

Just a simple narration 

Thank God you're still writing it happened one night 

Phew

That concept is amazing 

Thank you. Yes, Zoya makes entry in the next chapter.

Glad that you liked the concept. 😃

Hi there!

Asad to marry Tanveer...well, he doesn't have much choice. His state is under debt. 

About translating dialogues - I avoid it as it interrupts story flow a lot. If I end up using heavy Urdu, I will provide translation for key words. Otherwise, it will be everyday Hindi interspersed with Urdu.

Regarding other unfinished stories, please check my note in the next chapter.

Thanks for reading and commenting.😊

Hi there!

Glad to see you glad 😃 Have you changed your username? I cannot seem to place you.

Yes, Asad is a Nawab. He is such a nawab, naa? 

The story set in another time - yes, it is exciting for a writer because it means I can spend hours researching time gone by, a favourite hobby of mine 😉

Thanks for reading and commenting. 

Hello...Hello...

And, I demand a comment 😛

Thank you 😊