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Wow really intriguing! Looking forward to reading the next part! Plz update soon!
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Chapter 1: Air
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"Has the caterer come with the food? We have two hours to set up! You know the event begins at 6:30, Rajiv. Why aren't they here yet? Did we get a call from them?" She sighed heavily. "What am I supposed to do? Go into the kitchen and cook the food myself? Rajiv! Please, check it out," she urged and hung up the cell phone.
Staring down at the checklist in her hand, she put an angry star next to the caterers. Quickly dialing the next number, she began to speak rapidly, "Hello, Maheen, have the decorators finished with the ballroom? And the other room, as well? Great! Could you please help Rajiv figure out what's going on the with da*n caterers? They haven't shown up, yet. I know!"
She hung up the cell and checked off the next item in her list. "Where are those damn caterers? How unprofessional. They were supposed to be here by now and already setting up. What am I going to tell Mrs. Malhotra when she comes for the final checkup an hour from now? Especially when I told her that I could handle the setup?" she crossly muttered to herself, an unhappy frown on her face.
Rrriinnngg. Quickly swiping her thumb over the screen, she answered the call. "Hello? They're here? That's great! I'll be working in the other ballroom, making sure the silent auction arrangements are finished. We were able to get some last minute items that I think will get us a lot of donations," she murmured distractedly. "Call me if you have any questions."
Ending the call, she gazed around the main ballroom. There were two ballrooms being used at the venue for today's event. The VIPs, the highest of high society, would be welcomed in front of the main ballroom. She gazed around the room once more. The main event would be held here. The speeches, the dinner, the awards would all take place here. The stage had already been decorated, and the plaques were ready to hand out to last year's big donors.
She sighed in satisfaction, her eyes moving over the flowers, the tables, dinnerware, and the banners. Everything was all set up. The color scheme, a rich mauve and gold mix, helped to turn the room into a warm and inviting space. The tablecloths, the napkins . . . the skirts on the chairs all reflected the color scheme chosen for this day. The hope was that the tasteful decorations would induce the city's VIPs into opening their wallets and their hearts to this cause.
Nodding her head in satisfaction, she left, sure in the knowledge that nothing further needed to be done in this room. Now that the caterers were here, the food would be set up in the kitchen, ready to be served on time.
Taking out a handkerchief, she wiped the sweat from her forehead. This was not the time to relax, she silently chided herself and strode into the second, smaller ballroom. Her eyes quickly took note of the lighting, the decorations and the long tables set up for the bid lists, which were the most important part of this affair. This room was covered in cool colors of silver and navy blue. The temperature was just right. And the room's insulation ensured that no noise would come in from the adjoining ballroom to disturb the people ready to make the bids on the items they had so carefully procured.
Nodding to some of her colleagues at the other end of the room, she moved toward the stage and began to set up the pictures they had brought expressly for this event. She sighed softly in satisfaction, as she placed those pictures carefully on their stands. Tonight would see the completion of her very first big project at the non-profit organization she had begun to work at a few months ago. She was working with a great team of people, but it truly did feel like her project since they were holding this fundraiser in her hometown of Bhopal.
The nonprofit organization, Legal Services of Bhopal, not only helped low-income individuals fight their cases, be it in the family law or the employment law arena, but they specialized in assisting victims of domestic violence escape their abusive situations. The non-profit worked closely with shelters all over India to help those suffering from domestic abuse to safely escape the violence and begin new lives.
LSB helped those that may have been turned away before. LSB helped those that were the least empowered of all. And that was Sanam's passion. It was what had driven her to become a lawyer . . . to work with a non-profit organization, and work with those that had suffered the most . . . to help them escape . . . survive . . . and succeed. Her lips tightened in remembered fury, her mind flitting over the clients she had encountered over the past few months. Only one thought was circling in her head . . . no one had the right to hurt another. She believed that from the bottom of her heart. No one had that right and there was no excuse for such behavior. And this fundraiser would allow LSB to help so many more people.
The pictures she was setting up right now were pictures taken by their clients of things most important to them. The nature of their work meant that most of their clients couldn't be pictured. Pictures of faces and identities could mean those photos being utilized to hunt their clients down. But these pictures . . . of mundane things like schools, offices, nothing too specific of course, of food and books . . . would show the world how the nonprofit's help had resulted in their clients surviving . . . living . . . and flourishing. These people had escaped their lives of pain and suffering, and were now out in the world and living happy lives.
Stepping down from the stage, Sanam gazed up at the pictures once more with a soft smile playing on her lips. The stuffed bear that Preity carried everywhere she went . . . her very first toy. The office copier in the office where Sonali had gotten her first job. The new suit that Vivek had bought with his first paycheck, so that he could go to other interviews. These were the heart and soul of those people that LSB had helped, and she wanted to make sure that that sincerity came through to their donors. She wanted all of Bhopal to see the good they could do, just by donating some of their money.
Sanam sat down in one of the nearby chairs, taking a long drink from her water bottle. She needed a moment to relax before going on to the next task. Closing her eyes, she pondered on the fact that this was her first job after finishing law school. She had passed the All India Bar Exam after a period of intense study and support from her family. Upon receiving the results, she had quickly enrolled with the Bhopal Bar Council, and had gone out to search for a job. Within months of getting her Bar results, she had found a job. Sanam knew that she was extremely lucky to have found a job in her field, and she had been lucky to find this job. While the job might have come easily, but that didn't mean she hadn't poured her heart and soul into helping to make this project a success. She tightened her fingers into a fist . . . just as she would do with every task she was assigned while on the job.
Sanam felt that everything was finally going as planned, and she was ready for this night to happen. Honestly, she was ready for this night to be over. She wanted all of the worry behind her. She was ready to see the success of her first project. 'Okay . . . not really your project,' she reminded herself, but she had been a part of it. And she was ready to see the successful results.
Pulling out her phone, she called the person closest to her in the entire world. "Hello," she murmured into the phone. "Are you ready? What do you mean you're not ready yet, Seher ki bachi?" Sanam fairly growled into the phone. "You're supposed to be on your way here already!" She paused for a minute and heard the conciliatory voice on the other end.
"Okay, I guess you couldn't leave the meeting early. It wouldn't be professional, even if it is dad's company. We wouldn't want anyone talking about nepotism. Especially, since dad is practically forcing you to work there," she said. "But you know that I need you to bring my clothes for the fundraiser. I'm in my jeans and a sweatshirt right now. And I stink!" Her voice fairly squeaked with frustration, as she said the words. Another pause to hear whatever her sister had to say.
"Seher!" she whined into the phone. "You know the fundraiser is at the Kohinoor hotel! I know you're weak in geography, so I'll explain it to you. This location is an hour away from home. Even if you leave now, you'll be cutting it really close. I need time to get ready, too, you know. It's not easy to prettify myself!"
She heard her sister's promises on the other end, and breathed a sigh of relief. "I know I should've brought the clothes, but it's too late to think about it now, Seher. Okay, I expect you to be here in an hour. Right?" Smiling, she hung up the phone. Her sister had promised to be here in an hour, and she could trust Seher to keep that promise.
Who would've thought that her adventure-loving sister would become an accountant? Seher had gotten her B.Com and had passed the certifying exam. She was now working in the accounting department of their father's architecture firm, Dilshad Constructions, to gain experience before going out on her own.
Sanam smiled softly, thinking about Seher. Her sister, who used to love running off to explore new things, had settled for the dry world of numbers. But, as Seher had said, she loved counting money. All the fun was really in counting other people's money, she would say with a sly smirk, and in making some of that money her own . . . legally, of course.
"Sanam, we need you!"
Staring down at her watch, she blew her bangs off her forehead, and then called out, "Coming!" to a frantic coworker. Racing through the door, she muttered a final prayer, "Allah Miyah, please make this event a humongous success."
She hoped Allah Miyah would listen.
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"Sanam beta," her mother's voice called out from behind her.
Sanam turned and smiled at her mother, who was looking gorgeous in a black and silver sari.
Before walking over to her mother, she glanced one final time around the ballroom. The food had been eaten. The speeches made. There had been one hitch in the program, but her co-workers were on duty and had taken care of it. She smiled softly, her heart expanding to see the full crowd in the second, smaller ballroom. The object of the auction was to have Bhopal's elite bid on the items LSB had received from sponsors and private supporters of LSB. Items like trips to Switzerland, Paris and Japan, a yacht, and a jewelry certificate from Tiffany's in the USA. The winning bids, in the shape of huge quantities of money, would then be used as a private fund to help the organization's domestic violence clients.
The band was now playing in one corner, and some of the guests had begun to dance on the dance floor. The quiet murmurs of the guests were all happy ones. No one seemed unhappy. No one was complaining.
"You did a wonderful job," her mother murmured, leaning in to place a soft kiss on her daughter's forehead. "I can't believe that my daughter is all grown up and putting on parties like this," she murmured tearfully, wiping away a stray tear that had fallen from her eye. "Pretty soon you'll be off marrying someone and leaving us to go to your own home."
"Aw, mom," Sanam murmured, blushing a deep red. "I just turned 23," she reminded her mother. "I just graduated from school, and just began my career. You know how passionate I am about this career, mom," she said, looking meaningfully into her mother's eyes. "Love isn't even on the charts yet, let alone marriage. You'll have me for many more years. I'd say keep your eye on Seher. She's raring to go."
There was a shocked gasp from behind her. "Traitor!" Seher whisper-yelled. "After I drove all this way to get you your clothes, and helped you get ready."
Sanam turned around to see her twin standing a few feet away. She was closely followed by their father, Asad Ahmed Khan, who shook his head silently at the noise his family was making.
Seher walked over to her sister, and glared at her before breaking into a smile. Sanam wore a white, floor-length dress, the perfect dress for this event. Her hair was pulled back from her face, and she wore light makeup. Everything about her appearance was geared towards presenting a professional image for their donors. She smiled softly at her sister, who looked gorgeous in a red, ornate sari. She was dressed to the nines, and clearly having lots of fun . . . even at this boring work event that she had attended for her sister. Sanam threw a smile in her father's direction, before beginning to tease her sister.
Asad stood to the side, his eyes on his family. He watched his younger daughter, younger by a few minutes, arguing with her sister. Their mother, his Ms. Farooqui, stood to the side, smiling with pride at her two daughters. To be honest, he was just like her . .. his heart couldn't help but swell with pride when he saw his two young girls. After what had happened on the twins' second birthday, he had realized that there was nothing more precious than love. And that it was so ... so important to shower that love over his loved ones. Consciously loosening the tight hold that he had on his emotions and leaving behind his close attachment to what he thought was tehzeeb, Asad Ahmed Khan had become expressive. He had become a man that his wife and his girls could come to and share all their worries with.
Stepping forward, he slipped an arm around his wife and met the guilty looks his daughters threw his way. "Even if Seher is ready to go to her new home, why would she hide it?" he asked equably.
"Mr. Khan!" Zoya protested, turning to glare at her husband.
"Our daughters will have to get married one day, Ms Farooqui," he whispered softly into her ear. "Don't you want them to find someone to love, the way we found each other?"
She blushed at the love she saw in his eyes.
"Sooner or later, they'll leave," he murmured into her ear. "But you'll always have me."
"Eww, dad! Stop it," Seher said good-naturedly. "We're in public."
"You gals can fight over who betrayed who," he ordered them, still gazing into his wife's eyes. "Your mom and I are going to have some fun."
Sanam watched her parents, who were still very much in love, walk over to the dance floor. They began to slow dance to the music, quickly losing themselves in their own private world. She smiled, seeing her mother giggling as her father whispered into her ear.
Asad Ahmed Khan was the premier architect in Bhopal, and his firm did big business in the city. But he had never let his business get in the way of being there for his family. He had attended every school event, their graduations, and had always encouraged them with their dreams. When he had found out that she was helping out with this event, he had happily bought tickets to the event, and had even bid on some of the items. In addition to that, he had also made a big donation to LSB.
Her parents were her ideal. After years together, the two were so in love. But it wasn't the kind of love she saw on TV or some of the selfish love abusers professed before beating their partner or their child. Her parents' love was deep and abiding. Their love was patient and deep. Their love . . . was beautiful. Their love was rare. While she had told her mother that her career was important now, she really didn't think that it was possible to find their kind of love that easily. And she wouldn't settle.
"And what are you dreaming about, my dear sister?" Seher asked in her ear, wrapping her arm around the other woman.
"Hmm?" Sanam murmured, turning to stare into a face identical to her own. A face that was so beloved to her. She smiled. "Just looking at mom and dad," she replied. "How can they be so in love even after decades together?"
"Magic," Seher quipped. Putting her arm through Sanam's, she dragged her sister to the corner of the room. "Wasn't Haya supposed to come?" she asked, looking around for their cousin. "She told me that she'd be here," Seher whined. "She's so busy with her job, that we hardly get to see her except for on school breaks. I tell you, teachers hardly get paid anything, but they make them work hours of overtime."
"But she's happy," Sanam reminded her. "Wasn't it her dream to work with children with physical impairments ever since she was a child? It was her teachers that made school bearable for her until she got her operation. She can hear now, but she will never forget how those adults made her life easier."
"Yes, fine. But it's a break now. She can't be busy with school. So, where is she?" Seher demanded grumpily.
"Rahat was called on duty for the next two weeks in some remote area," Sanam said. "She decided to go be with her husband."
"I can't believe that she's already married," Seher said, the envy clear in her voice.
"We've known Rahat since we were kids," Sanam pointed out. "They've known each other almost all their lives. There was a bond there from the beginning. Remember, how he used to take care of her? And when his brother, Faiz, died in that horrible accident, she was there to comfort him. They've already been through so much, and are more mature than either one of us. And as she said, why wait when you already know? Especially, when you don't know what tomorrow will bring."
"I know," Seher said, "But . . ."
"You want that, too," Sanam finished for her.
Seher smiled. "Don't you? Sometimes I have nightmares . . . about a life without our parents. What if they hadn't survived, and we had to live on our own? What would we have become?"
Sanam squeezed her sister's hand lovingly. "I'm here for you," she murmured. "Nothing can separate us."
"Yeah, until you find your love," Seher pointed out balefully. "It's only right that your husband will take first place in your heart, but I have admit that when you find that special someone, I will be really jealous."
"And what about you, miss 'I'm ready to get married'? You'll find your special someone, too. And I won't be first in your heart anymore, either."
The girls were pulled from their private conversation by a dull uproar, which was picking up in volume.
"What's going on?" Sanam asked, her worried eyes moving across the room. But the noise was not an unhappy noise. It sounded like excitement.
Soon, the two were surrounded by the whispers of those around them. 'What would strike awe in the hearts of Bhopal's elite?' Sanam wondered, her eyes moving around once more. The smile on her supervisor's face calmed her fears. Whatever it was, it was a good thing, she thought to herself, or Mrs. Malhotra would not be smiling so happily. She watched the woman talk into her cell phone with an intent expression, and then the face relaxed into a relieved smile.
Seher suddenly squealed in excitement.
"What?" Sanam asked with a gasp, turning to look at her smiling twin.
"The Nawab of Bhopal!" Seher replied. "Your fundraiser has been graced by Bhopal's own royalty. Think of how much more money you're going to get, when people realize the Nawab is here. They'll be eager to show off their own wealth by bidding crazily on the items in the other room. That man has been missing in action for so long. You know how every other week the entertainment programs have episodes on where the Nawab disappeared to, so the fact that he's here is a huge thing, Sanam! He's come back," she squealed, almost rubbing her hands together.
"Can you be more obvious?" Sanam asked chidingly. "What do you plan on doing? Jumping him as soon as he walks through the door? You don't even know what he looks like," she pointed out. "What if he's old? What if he turns to be a total gargoyle?"
"He's a man of mystery, Sanam," Seher protested. "He wouldn't dare be ugly. And anyways, he has to be young. Why do you have to be so prosaic about things like this? Let me have some fun!"
The girls focused on the knot of people at the other end of the room, which seemed to be stuck in the doorway of the second ballroom. The knot was moving around some central focal point, and their eyes followed the commotion as the knot slowly began to move into the main ballroom.
Sanam's eyes flicked over to the stage, eyes widening in surprise when she saw Mrs. Malhotra up there. "Ladies and Gentlemen, we have amongst us tonight the Nawab of Bhopal, Mr. Aahil Raza Ibrahim! Nawab Ibrahim has just donated 1 million US dollars to the Legal Services of Bhopal. A big hand for his generosity."
The applause was loud. Sanam stared at her sister, eyes wide at the news. This man really cared about their cause. A smile grew on her face, as she realized that they had surpassed their goal with just that one donation. Everything else they got tonight would just be icing on the cake.
Seher suddenly gasped in surprise.
Sanam turned her head to look at her sister, and then followed her sister's wide-eyed gaze. She saw that the knot had finally loosened, and they could see the man standing in the center. "He's . . ."
"Hot," Seher uttered a husky tone. "I . . . I wouldn't mind getting to know that Nawab better," she murmured.
Sanam looked at the entranced look on her sister's face, and then back at the man standing in the sea of people. He was handsome, with the sweetest smile. It was so shy, as he nodded his head at the applause he was getting from the crowd. Murmuring something to the man at his shoulder, he moved across the floor to meet Mrs. Malhotra, who was waving at them from the foot of the stage.
Sanam's eyes were caught for a moment by that interaction, but she forced her attention away. The important thing was that they had received the donation. The important thing was that they would be able to help so many people with that money. She didn't have time to get distracted.
"Where's the rest of the family?" Zoya asked, coming to stand next to their daughters.
Sanam turned to look at her mother. "What do you mean? How do you know about their family?" she asked curiously.
"We'll they're pretty well-known," her mother remarked. "There were two daughters, right? They should be about five years younger than you two. If he's the new Nawab, then the father must have passed away. I wonder what happened to him?" she asked musingly.
"They used to have a farmhouse next to your Imran Uncle's house, before he sold up and went overseas," Asad remarked. "You must remember. We used to take Haya over there all the time when she lived with us as a young child. You know, before she moved back in with her dad. You might have even seen him or the daughters. Our vacations overlapped quiet often."
"Aahil Raza Ibrahim," Seher mused. "How did I miss seeing you? ARI. Sexy, don't you think?" she asked, turning to look at her sister.
Sanam eyes widened. "ARI . . . ?" she murmured.
Her head whipped around to stare at the man currently talking to her supervisor.
Air?'
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