She was back in the vibrant crowd. Everyone seemed to enjoy themselves. Her eyes was able to spot many fake smiles and laughters. Her eyes was also able to detect envious gazes. She saw people meeting each other with happy faces only to turn around and backbite about each other. The sweet aura they exuded earlier getting replaced with venom in matter of seconds. This was what it was.The elite class of Pakistan.Fake.Ostentatious.Pretentious.Gaudy. And sham.Her honey-amber eyes noticed the bride. Zahra.Donning a black bridal dress.She looked ecstatic. So pure. So innocent. The perfect word was, 'shy'Not even for once did she look up and matched her stare with the groom. Roshanay could feel as if she was trying to maintain a difference from the groom.The bride was awfully quiet. As if she didn't like being subjected to this concentration of attention. To Roshanay, she looked fearful because she witnessed what happened a few moments ago at the road where she got caught elo
Every now and then, her eyes would get wide upon seeing the price tags making her quickly place the article away. One look at those dresses, bags, shoes and accessories, she knew she didn't belong to this place. A pair of shoes alone cost more than fifty thousand. With timid steps, she approached Moosa and looked at his chest, "can we... go somewhere else?""Why?" he asked, his eyes pinning her and she felt goosebumps arising near her neck. Whenever his light brown eyes pinned her with his austere gaze, she always found her heart doing somersault. She was still trying to process what were these feelings. They were not so potent. But they did make her shy. As if her heart was in a web of attraction.It was getting attracted towards him.Magnetized by his eyes sometimes.But she was too fearful to admit these emotions even to herself. "Umm.... it is... very expensive.... for me.... for someone like me....."She looked down again. She didn't want to look like a gold digger. Women
Her eyes were going through the lines of the book she was reading but every now and then she has to focus on words to grasp the meaning. Continuously, her mind was being shifted to somewhere else instead of thr story which those lines entailed. The book, titled, 'Zaryaab' was about an underworld mafia guy who was not just a businessman but also a prominent politician of the country. A dark and quiet aura had succumbed him always on the streets he walk and within his heart, he carried a deep and intense fire that had been burning him for years. The book was nice, engaging and full of mysteries but still couldn't get Roshanay's focus as her mind was on something else which was more intense and heartwracking at the moment. Something which required her attention more than this book. She was only reading it to drift her thoughts away but again her mind dragged her to the same point which she had been trying to avoid. The chip. She still has not planted it in his study. And she was tryi
Entering the room, she found him shirtless sitting on the sofa, using his phone. Her eyes cursorily went to his screen and found he was reading one of his mails. She had never seen him using social media. Rather she once searched for him on social media from the phone he bought for her but she couldn't find him. He was not a social media person. And it was a relief for her.It meant other girls won't be able to talk to him.She really didn't know where this possessiveness was coming from. But she really didn't like other girls eyeing him. And this was the prime reason she hated Farah more than usual since her eyes were set on Moosa.He was her husband!There was a time when she used to see him in news, giving interviews to various news channels and see people commending him for running NGO's to help people in need. People carried a very soft and gentle image of Moosa in their heart. So did she. Often she feel connected to him. As if their was a built-in connection in her heart for h
"There.... there is nothing, Moosa," she uttered with hesitance. Her lips were smarting with the rough yet demanding and somewhat soft kiss. "Are you sure?" he held a grape from the trolley and forwarded the grain to her for to take bite which she did before putting the rest of piece in his mouth. Roshanay just nodded without looking at him. The confusion was now bubbling up within her to tell him or not now. She lacked the courage to let the truth run on her tongue. "Alright then," he said, looking at her face while her eyes were on her lap, "I trust you with this," At his words, something broke in her heart and she suddenly felt a surge of guilt rushing within her system."Thank you," she whispered in her heavy voice."I suppose you did not have your dinner so you're going to eat with me," he announced and fed her a morsel that she thought he made for himself.....A few days passed just like that. Alizey was busied with her university and studies so they both did not get enoug
"You're taking sleeping pills, Roshanay," These words alone made her color go pale. It wasn't a question. He wasn't asking. He was telling. And it meant that he knew she was taking pills to sleep. "I-I-I.." she was suddenly short of words. "Don't dare lying to me," his voice turned icy cold which made her scoot away from him."I'm... sorry," she whispered, looking scaredly at him."Why?" he just asked, implying he wanted to know the reason behind her action. She looked at him for few seconds."I...I've trouble sleeping," she blurted the lie that first came in her mind. He tugged at her arm bringing her back to her previous position before he held her chin, "you're lying to me," he said boring his eyes in hers, "I know you're hiding something from me, Roshi," his voice was a hot whisper, "pray that I don't find it before the time you're going to tell it to me," he placed a chaste kiss on her lips."I'm not lying," her voice turned shaky since tears were clogged in her throat. Only
Her feet moved fast as tears kept on spilling down her eyes. Laid on the floor of the kitchen was the broken pieces of the mug and the coffee concoction spilled around. Resting against the kitchen shelf was the man dressed in black. In his hands, was her dupatta (scarf) as an evil smirk was formed on his lips while staring at her scarf. Roshanay rushed towards their room, eyes glistening with tears, fear gripping her heart. Her steps fast to reach her safety. The door of thei room came infront her vision and she suddenly stopped in front of the door, breathing heavily. Light sobs jolting her body so she placed her palm on her mouth. Nose red and face blotched. More and more tears spilled out of her eyes.Even being someone's wife.... not just someone but Moosa Khan's wife.... she still has to face it.When will this get over?Will I ever be able to live freely?Out of fear?And with respect?She tried to quiten herself down. It was not the right time to let her emotions let loose.
Roshanay's whole form quivered with utter dread. Her puzzled mind pushed into a state of dilemma. Whether it was the shock or the fear which wasn't letting her move from her position. The horrors of the scene unfolding infront of her, finding their way in some deep pit of memories in her mind. Her paled face depicted her inner turmoil of how the terror has completely paralyzed her. This scene was almost like a deja-vu. In the same dark basement, stood infront of her, in all his glory, Moosa, holding a dagger in his hands. His eyes bloodshot red. His face so concentrated, eyes entirely fixed on the task he was performing as if it was a source of dopamine for his mind.He was relentless. Merciless.She witnessed an anger-an angst in him which made him much scarier than the last time in the same state. He wasn't stopping. As if the dark whispers of devil in his ears were propelling him, instigating him to dwell on more towards the darkness as with each elapsing second, the dagger pierce