In the Depth of the Heart - Chapter 44: Chapter 44
You are reading In the Depth of the Heart, Chapter 44: Chapter 44. Read more chapters of In the Depth of the Heart.
Tariq’s House – Monday Morning
Kamal and Munir were descending the stairs, getting ready for school. Munir held his bag and a folded sheet — likely an assignment. Kamal, as usual, walked silently with a heart weighed down, his steps unsure, like someone searching for something he no longer believed in.
As they reached the living room, they found two men seated on the couch, papers spread across a glass table between them.
Tariq, Munir’s father, was in cheerful conversation with a dignified man — Rauf Gera, a respected tycoon in the city — and Kamal’s biological father.
> Tariq, smiling warmly:
“Kai, Rauf! You should’ve called — I’d have come to you. A man like you doesn’t need to visit in person.”
> Rauf Gera, adjusting his glasses:
“You haven’t changed. I came because this contract needs to be wrapped up today — no matter the hour.”
They continued reviewing a blueprint for what appeared to be a commercial project, their tone filled with the ease of old friendship.
But then, the sound of shoes descending the last steps caught their attention.
Munir, cheerful and polite, walked forward:
> Munir:
“Uncle Rauf! Good morning, sir. Welcome.”
> Rauf, smiling with dignified fondness:
“Munir, you’re growing fast. You remind me of Tariq in his youth.”
They exchanged greetings and laughter, Tariq chuckling as Rauf engaged Munir warmly — like family.
Kamal, however, stood quietly off to the side, watching his father with a mix of bitterness, pain, and stubborn resolve. He didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Until he softly muttered, deliberately:
> Kamal:
“Oh. Bad day.”
The words dropped like quiet rain — soft, but unmistakable. Everyone heard.
Tariq’s smile faltered. Rauf paused mid-sentence and dropped the paper in his hand.
> Rauf, with disdain:
“Every day is a bad day for you, Kamal. Since you started with drugs and wayward living, you’ve brought nothing but ruin.”
Kamal raised his eyes, staring directly at his father. He said nothing — but his gaze carried a thousand words.
Sensing the tension, Tariq quickly interjected, trying to defuse the moment:
> Tariq, forcing a laugh:
“Kamal, aren’t you two late for school? Looks like it’s time to go, right?”
“To be honest, Rauf — Kamal’s been trying. He goes to school every day now, always with Munir…”
> Rauf, scoffing:
“Trying? You call it progress when a boy skips just one night at the club? When I’m not picking him up from the police station, that’s a ‘good day’?”
Kamal’s jaw clenched. His voice was low, but piercing:
> Kamal:
“Whatever I’ve become — you laid the foundation.”
Munir nudged Kamal slightly, signaling him to stop.
Rauf stood up, picked up his bag, and said coldly:
> Rauf:
“I’m leaving. Let’s end the contract discussion here. I don’t care to sit across from the disgrace I threw out of my house.”
He left without a final glance at Kamal.
Kamal stood still, gripping his bag like it held all his anger.
> Tariq, gently:
“Kamal…”
> Kamal, quietly:
“Let him go. That’s my father.”
Zuhra’s House – Monday Morning
The morning light slipped in through the window glass. A cool breeze, scented with the stillness of a new day, filled the living room — a space marked by order, grace, and military calm.
Brigadier Imran sat comfortably in his armchair, reading a newspaper, dressed in a leisure polo and shorts. Across the room, Zainab — his wife — adjusted a flower vase on the coffee table, glancing occasionally toward him.
Brigadier lowered the paper, looked at her with quiet pride.
> Brigadier Imran:
“Zainab… have you noticed this girl? Zuhra is beginning to blossom. The hospital praises her, and at home, she speaks with poise. I can go to Pune now without worry.”
Zainab chuckled softly as she adjusted the ring on her finger.
> Zainab:
“Oh, so now that the kids are growing up, you want to run away from the house? That’s not fair.”
Brigadier gave a short laugh, crossing his legs on a stool.
> Brigadier:
“It’s not escape… just a reunion with old comrades in Pune. Besides, Zuhra’s becoming a complete woman now — I don’t need to shadow her anymore.”
He closed his eyes briefly, savoring a sense of accomplishment. Zainab shook her head, smiling.
> Zainab:
“Even if she asked to marry today, I’d say yes. But you — you’d still say ‘Let’s wait until after training.’ I do admire your discipline with them, though.”
> Brigadier, with calm authority:
“I’m a soldier, Zainab. Discipline is the soldier’s gift. And now — I believe we’ve succeeded.”
Kamal and Munir were descending the stairs, getting ready for school. Munir held his bag and a folded sheet — likely an assignment. Kamal, as usual, walked silently with a heart weighed down, his steps unsure, like someone searching for something he no longer believed in.
As they reached the living room, they found two men seated on the couch, papers spread across a glass table between them.
Tariq, Munir’s father, was in cheerful conversation with a dignified man — Rauf Gera, a respected tycoon in the city — and Kamal’s biological father.
> Tariq, smiling warmly:
“Kai, Rauf! You should’ve called — I’d have come to you. A man like you doesn’t need to visit in person.”
> Rauf Gera, adjusting his glasses:
“You haven’t changed. I came because this contract needs to be wrapped up today — no matter the hour.”
They continued reviewing a blueprint for what appeared to be a commercial project, their tone filled with the ease of old friendship.
But then, the sound of shoes descending the last steps caught their attention.
Munir, cheerful and polite, walked forward:
> Munir:
“Uncle Rauf! Good morning, sir. Welcome.”
> Rauf, smiling with dignified fondness:
“Munir, you’re growing fast. You remind me of Tariq in his youth.”
They exchanged greetings and laughter, Tariq chuckling as Rauf engaged Munir warmly — like family.
Kamal, however, stood quietly off to the side, watching his father with a mix of bitterness, pain, and stubborn resolve. He didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Until he softly muttered, deliberately:
> Kamal:
“Oh. Bad day.”
The words dropped like quiet rain — soft, but unmistakable. Everyone heard.
Tariq’s smile faltered. Rauf paused mid-sentence and dropped the paper in his hand.
> Rauf, with disdain:
“Every day is a bad day for you, Kamal. Since you started with drugs and wayward living, you’ve brought nothing but ruin.”
Kamal raised his eyes, staring directly at his father. He said nothing — but his gaze carried a thousand words.
Sensing the tension, Tariq quickly interjected, trying to defuse the moment:
> Tariq, forcing a laugh:
“Kamal, aren’t you two late for school? Looks like it’s time to go, right?”
“To be honest, Rauf — Kamal’s been trying. He goes to school every day now, always with Munir…”
> Rauf, scoffing:
“Trying? You call it progress when a boy skips just one night at the club? When I’m not picking him up from the police station, that’s a ‘good day’?”
Kamal’s jaw clenched. His voice was low, but piercing:
> Kamal:
“Whatever I’ve become — you laid the foundation.”
Munir nudged Kamal slightly, signaling him to stop.
Rauf stood up, picked up his bag, and said coldly:
> Rauf:
“I’m leaving. Let’s end the contract discussion here. I don’t care to sit across from the disgrace I threw out of my house.”
He left without a final glance at Kamal.
Kamal stood still, gripping his bag like it held all his anger.
> Tariq, gently:
“Kamal…”
> Kamal, quietly:
“Let him go. That’s my father.”
Zuhra’s House – Monday Morning
The morning light slipped in through the window glass. A cool breeze, scented with the stillness of a new day, filled the living room — a space marked by order, grace, and military calm.
Brigadier Imran sat comfortably in his armchair, reading a newspaper, dressed in a leisure polo and shorts. Across the room, Zainab — his wife — adjusted a flower vase on the coffee table, glancing occasionally toward him.
Brigadier lowered the paper, looked at her with quiet pride.
> Brigadier Imran:
“Zainab… have you noticed this girl? Zuhra is beginning to blossom. The hospital praises her, and at home, she speaks with poise. I can go to Pune now without worry.”
Zainab chuckled softly as she adjusted the ring on her finger.
> Zainab:
“Oh, so now that the kids are growing up, you want to run away from the house? That’s not fair.”
Brigadier gave a short laugh, crossing his legs on a stool.
> Brigadier:
“It’s not escape… just a reunion with old comrades in Pune. Besides, Zuhra’s becoming a complete woman now — I don’t need to shadow her anymore.”
He closed his eyes briefly, savoring a sense of accomplishment. Zainab shook her head, smiling.
> Zainab:
“Even if she asked to marry today, I’d say yes. But you — you’d still say ‘Let’s wait until after training.’ I do admire your discipline with them, though.”
> Brigadier, with calm authority:
“I’m a soldier, Zainab. Discipline is the soldier’s gift. And now — I believe we’ve succeeded.”
End of In the Depth of the Heart Chapter 44. Continue reading Chapter 45 or return to In the Depth of the Heart book page.