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Ek samundar hai jo mere kaabu mein hai, aur ek katra ahi Jo mujhse sambhala nahi jata...

Ek umr hai jo bitani hai unke baghair, aur ek lamha hai jo mujhse guzara nahi jata.

                                                --Gulzaar

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

THIRD PERSON'S POV

Everything was pitch black.....

Black always suffocated her, scared her, taking her anxiety to the highest peak.... The same was happening now!

Her heart palpitated as she walked further into the black abyss dread filling her heart... there was nothing to hold onto, nor was there anyone she could clutch to.

She was alone, all alone.... Silence accompanying her to the depths of nothingness.

“Maria....” a whimper escaped her lips when she heard someone, someone too familiar, too precious.

Her legs carried her forward as she desperately ran towards the source of voice calling her. Light followed her, clearing the path the more she ran.

Everything around her was now illuminating and she felt her sorrow lifting watching the sight before her.

The most precious sight!

Her father.

“Abba!” tears streamed down her eyes and she whimpered, clutching onto him with her dear life.

“Mera bacha! My sweet child!” he smiled locking her in his embrace, closer to his heart.

(My daughter!)

Tears ran non-stop, so were her whimpers. She missed him so dearly. “I miss you so much.” her voice faltered, throat clogging with the onslaught of tears.

She was the girl who found it hard to showcase her emotions but since his death, her emotions scattered like grains of sand on the earth. Everywhere!

Now the meekest of things had the power to crumble her down.... And she hated that! The feeling of weakness.

She had never felt so weak! So desolate! So frail!

“Mere bache Allah ka faisla hai, we can't do anything. Usi ki amanat hai hum sab!” running fingers through her hair he whispered, wiping her teary orbs.

(My daughter it's Allah’s will. We all are his possessions.)

“I know, but I can't stop myself from missing you so much...” She whispered out, “And you know I am strong, but how should I handle mummy ?!” she broke down in his arms like she used to as a small girl, scared for her mother.

She rarely used to cry, keeping her emotions intact. The strongest woman she had ever witnessed in her life! Nothing could break, nor falter her! Maybe it was the strength she got from the divine power himself.

“Allah hai na meri jaan phir roti kyu ho. Hmm ?!” he chuckled as he adjusted her head on his heart and kissed her temple repeatedly.

(Allah is there for you, he will handle all. You don't have to cry.)

It was his way to soothe his distressed daughter, like he used to console her cranky form in her childhood.

“Aap theek ho na ? You are happy, right ?” she questioned anxiously, her eyes shown with worry.

(Are you fine?)

No tears, no pleadings would bring him back now, she knew.... But her heart would be content, in peace, knowing that he was happy where he was now.

“Alhamdulillah I am! Bahut achi jagah pe hu!” a wide genuine smile was what he offered her, his face shone with a youthful glow, making her smile too.

(I am at a good place.)

“You look so handsome!” she commented looking at him, it was as if she was seeing him in his prime youth, the time when he got married with her mother. There was no tension, no worry on his face, only content and peace.

“Of course!” He chuckled loudly hearing her, and kissed her forehead holding her in his arms, the safest place for her.

Serenity engulfed her and she felt peace with him... but it was time to let go now.

“It's time to leave now, my child.” backing away he smiled softly, and the surroundings started to fade, along with her smile.

“Apna khayal rakhna.... Aur please rona mat! Meri beti bahut strong hai!” with a last kiss to her forehead he vanished, leaving her presence behind, missing him already.

(Take care of yourself and please don't cry. My daughter is very strong.)

“I am.” she whispered into thin air... but like always her conviction shattered like a broken glass as soon as she stepped into the consciousness of the real world....

Tears slipped down her eyes reminiscing the dream she had of her father. Years had passed but it still felt like yesterday.

She hadn't overcome the grief since his passing and she was sure she couldn't. Ever!

Losing him was the worst nightmare she had seen with her open eyes and nothing could be worse than it.

Him, dying in an accident, had left a huge scar over her heart, on her soul which would never heal. The pain, the grief... was always present, no matter how strong she always had been.

“Aap phir ro rahi hai!” she quickly wiped her tears from the back of her hand, feeling his presence engulfing her in his embrace as soon as he sat beside her. The spicy cologne of his filled her nostrils and she took a deep breath, her heart feeling peace, feeling him drape his shawl over her shoulders.

(You are crying again.)

Maria gulped watching Mustafa tower at her small form, frown etched over his face.

He seemed displeased.... His eyes raking over her red nose, red eyes. “How many times have I asked you not to cry?! Aur aap aise hi thand mein bahar aa gayi! It's so irresponsible of you, Maria!” he scolded her like a child and she bit her lips, knowing how much he despised her tears and carelessness towards her health.

(And you came out in the cold without covering yourself.)

A long lecture by Dr. Mir Mustafa Ahwaan was awaiting her now!

“---Mustafa...” she winced when he cut her off not even sparing her a chance to speak, seething over her carelessness. “You aren't even wearing slippers! ARE YOU PLANNING TO GET SICK?!” reprimanding her, he pinched his nose, to tame down his anger, an old habit of his whenever angry.

“Wear them.... AND I DON'T WANT ANY ARGUMENT!” ordering, he passed his slippers to her small feet, eyes set hard, daring her to turn down his words.

Maria was no fool to deny him, well aware of his anger and quickly wore his slippers, cold now replaced with his heat.

He was right! It was too damn cold! And she did not realise it, until he draped his shawl and gave his slippers to her.

“Mustafa aap---” now worried for his health she opened her mouth to offer his slippers back, but he was quick to cut her off with a smile and kissed her temple in assurance. “I am fine, little birdie. This jacket is enough to keep me warm. Don't worry!” she wasn't satisfied with his answer, but who was going to argue with Mir Mustafa Ahwaan, the stubborn man!

A prolonged silence passed between them  when he decided to open his mouth and end the silence, seeming to know the reason behind her sadness.

“You saw him again, right ?!” his question brought back the flashbacks of her dream and she nodded looking down, fixing her eyes over her little feet tucked in his giant slippers.

She struggled to bite down her sobs, but all it took was his hold on her shoulder to break down.

Tears slipped like rivers as she cried like a baby, tucked in his bulky arms. Her sobs wrecked his heart, like a knife stabbing it ruthlessly and repeatedly, but he let her cry, holding her tight, letting her relieve her pain.

“I am here. Always!” rubbing her back, he whispered, filling her heart with peace with his promise. It was soothing for her ears.

Mustafa had been a blessing to her life, after her father passed away. He had been her anchor whenever she needed guidance, her biggest supporter when she needed someone to cheer for her.....

But most importantly he was her emotional support. He had always been there for her whenever she had cried. He had always been there when she needed a shoulder for support.

With her mother she had always kept up the facade of a happy girl who had moved on from the big tragedy of their life, but with him she was transparent like water.... So was him!

For the whole world he was the ice cold Mir Mustafa Ahwaan, but with her, he was Mustafa! who was soft just like a teddy bear.

It was only reserved for her, Maria Ahwaan! The girl who had him wrapped around her little finger from the day they had met!

“Make dua whenever you miss him. You'll feel good and he will be happy!” tucking the soft lock of hair behind her ear, he whispered with a sad smile, wiping his own misty eyes, remembering his dearest uncle.

“I always do.” Maria nodded, her head finding his shoulder to lean. Mustafa did not even wasted a second and pulled her small form again in his warmth, cocooning her in his embrace, both of them now gazing the beautiful garden, sitting in peaceful silence, enjoying each other's company.

But the peace did not last long as they heard someone aka, Osama Ahwaan! Clearing his throat, pulling them apart. “Ahem! Ahem!”

“You are hiding here! I have been searching for you for so long!” he complained, passing his hand to Maria who stood up, wrapping Mustafa's shawl tightly around her when a cool gust of kissed her face, chilling her whole form.

Mustafa grimaced noticing her little form shiver... the thought of lecturing her again crossed his head, but he kept his silence, shrugging the thought.

He instead took her hands in his hold and rubbed them to provide warmth to her, as he turned to face his brother.

“Why were you searching for her ?” raising his eyebrows he questioned, hearing Osama reply back immediately, not fazed by the sight at all.

It wasn't something new for him. Mustafa had always been over protective of her, it was something which came naturally to him.

“Because we are going for jogging! She wants to shed some weight!” his words immediately shifted Mustafa's attention to Maria who bit her lips, glaring at Osama for telling Mustafa of her plans.... Plans he won't like at all.

“But you look good as you are!” Ahhh!! She anticipated that answer and pouted, giving Osama puppy eyes to help her, which he did immediately rolling his eyes.

“Bhaai fitness bhi kuch hoti hai. Ab aapne khud ko dekha hai ? Kya to physique hai aapki oufff! Girls are mad after you!” Osama stated, making Mustafa frown at his words.

(There is something called fitness brother. Have you looked at yourself ?! God! What an amazing physique you have got.)

“I don’t care! They could die for all I care. I don't give two hoots to them!....” of course! Babysitting se fursat mile to dekhein kahin ye! Not having the courage to roll eyes at his face, Osama mentally rolled his eyes at his older brother's statement.

“---Aur rahi baat Maria ki then she is already beautiful, don't put your shitty ideas inside her head!” he smacked Osama's shoulder who winced, his brain signalling him to abort the mission to help Maria, scared of the look Mustafa was giving him. “--Skinny is not her type! She looks good with her chubby cheeks.” pinching her baby cheeks, Mustafa chucked, finding her slapping his hand back with a glare.

"Don't do that ever again! My cheeks are very sensitive. And I don't like these chubby cheeks" she complained rubbing her red cheeks, as she weighed them in her palms, a cute pout adoring her face, making Mustafa  laugh at her adorable reaction while Osama gaped at looking at her.

Apparently, the sight of his brother getting reprimanded was always stupefying for him!

The sight of the man who dominated him was too satisfying, when he was standing in the same place as him but he had no intention to poke him for that but he couldn't let go of the opportunity and decided to tease him.

“So you like chubby girls like her, huh ?” he wriggled his eyebrows, his eyes set upon his brother who looked gobsmacked at his words, totally speechless.

“Osama!” cheeks tingling red, Maria scolded him, knowing Mustafa would smack poor him, if she did not interfered.

Not like he did not deserve it.

“What did I do ? Khud hi to keh rahe hai ye that he loves chubby cheeks like you ?” if her face was red back then now it was like someone set it on fire with Osama's blunt statement.

(He himself said that he loves chubby girls like you.)

God! That guy was an expert in embarrassing people.

“YOU---” ready to pounce on Osama, Mustafa seethed, his face red too... the reason ?! Anger or embarassment, she was unsure off.

“Rehne dein na Mustafa, he is just teasing you.... Please!” Maria quickly came in between and held Mustafa's fist, pleading him to let go of his anger. Osama peeked from her back, pretending to be an innocent monk, dreading his anger but could he ever let go teasing him off ?! Never!

(Please let go Mustafa.)

“I am leaving you only for her, you brat! Warna to tumhe pata hai na---” he warned Osama, and looked towards Maria's face which instantly calmed his anger.

(Otherwise you know me--)

“I am well aware of your violent tendencies bhaai. Baar baar bachpan ki maar yaad na dilaya karein!!” Osama shivered and nodded meekly, remembering Mustafa's hard smacks, whenever he had been mischievous.

(Don't remind me of my childhood beatings every time, brother.)

His brother could be the sweetest yet the most dangerous guy if he wanted, and no way in the hell he wanted to be on his bad side!

“Acha chalo! park chalo mere saath!” feeling the heat of Mustafa's hard stare on Osama, Maria quickly changed the topic, watching Osama almost weep in happiness thankful to her, as now his brother's attention was all diverted towards her.

(Come on. Let's go to the park now.)

“Wait here!” stopping her, he went inside the haveli, only to return back, holding her shoes.

Osama was awed at the sight before him, his heart feeling love for his brother's care.... But it wasn't something which was new! He was always protective, or say overprotective of her!

“Wear these.” Maria at once took her shoes from his hand, knowing any delay would make him help her wear them himself. She quickly wore them and stood beside Osama,  who was all ready to leave with her.

“You are too sensitive. Wear this too! It is extra warm!” Maria chucked at his protectiveness, when he shrugged off his own jacket, leaving himself in a thin black shirt, his taught muscles rippling off, flexing with movements as he zipped his jacket around her, which came out to be too big for her size.

“She looks like a baby in your jacket, bhaai.” Osama laughed, clutching his stomach, sharing a look with his older brother, who smiled agreeing with him. “Indeed! She looks like a little baby, but at least she won't catch a cold.” their statements made Maria glare at both of them, for daring to make fun of her in her presence .

“Acha chalo bhi ab.” She dragged Osama before Mustafa could get a chance to pin out more things, which he would definitely and delay their walk!

(Let's go now.)

“Don't forget to stay out of trouble, I know you are a big trouble seeker but, come home safe... Specially her! One scratch on her and you know hell awaits you.” Maria rolled her eyes at the typical Mustafa statement as they both walked towards the gate.

“Aye aye brother! Your babysitting duty is mine now. I'll make sure to keep your both babies out of trouble.” Osama screamed laughing out loud, giving a thumbs up to his brother who chucked and walked back inside the house, leaving both of them in Osama's care.

“Lets go bestie!” Osama whispered banging his shoulder with Maria who giggled following him.

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