MAQAAM - Chapter 7: Chapter 7

It was drastic. The change in her mood and the air around them.
His wife was having a gala time in her maternal home, skipping her steps to run around the place she had known for the past 24 years of her existence. She was happy to be back here, anyone could have a look at her and could tell, the girl was brimming with smiles and joy.
She had met and laughed around her family as if inserting back into her home. It was her voice, her footsteps, and her laughter that resonated around the place.
Until now.
She had gone still. Her smile evaporated as if never present in the first place. While she stood rim rod straight, her fingers were shaking and that swallow of lump had him worried.
"Ina..." He was ready to call her when he heard the name.
"Iram, Come in."
His wife flinched in the smallest actions as if her soul was slapped. He watched her eyes turn hollow and lose the stories she had narrated him for the better part of their marriage, and Inara was full of words and stories to say rather.
Farish stood and he followed.
While his father-in-law went towards his other daughter to greet her, Rahil ran to her side. His fingers pressed into her arm with an ephemeral touch that didn't fulfill their purpose. Standing behind her to hold on, he called her name softly. Conflicted on how he was to treat this version of his wife.
She had been complaining, angry, whining, pestering, laughing, and most of the time a mischief maker. Never hollow.
He would rather face anything but not this side of her.
"Inara." He called her a little loudly, leaning closer to her to hold more of her. He felt her shiver for a second before she closed her eyes.
"How are you, Appi?" Iram stood infront of her and Inara's daze snapped in two.
So as her resolve.
"R...rahil, chalo..." She said in a broken whisper.
"Ini..."
"Chaliye yha se..." This time she was rather firm as she cut him off. Holding his shirt sleeve, she faced him while her eyes strayed away from her sister. "I don't want to be here, please take me away."
Her whispers killed something in him. His palm cupped her shoulder as she stuck more to his chest in order to get away from Iram.
"Why are you being like this, Inara? At least talk to me." Iram came closer and Inara turned her back to her. Face buried against him and his arm came around her protectively.
"Stop there." Rahil's command halted Iram in her place.
"Please...Chalo yha se...Mujhe nahi rehna yaha..." His arms tightened around her firmly, holding her closer if possible. "Rahil..."
He heard her whimper and his eyes snapped to her shaking form. He had wondered why she wouldn't talk about her twin, seeing was a long shot but now, he could see the effect this girl had on his wife. She may have kept her walls up during their marriage but within, she was a crumpled mess.
A mess she had been pushing away to be dealt never.
Last week, it wasn't her antics to get her parents from her back for Iram's invite. It was an act of self-defense her mind formulated. She had changed subjects, pulled tactics, and got them to forget about the invite. Why could he not see her unexpressed anger or the packed-up tears she hid behind her bright smiles?
Not that he had tried enough. He had given her some strings to hold on him, nothing more nothing less in these two months they had known. She had pulled more of them making him see her in a different light.
He had started thinking about this woman he had wedded, scaring him for losing his focus or as a source of perpetual distraction he thought she would be.
He had been wrong, he knew now.
"Inara, she wants to apologize, bacha. At least hear her out." Their mother interfered.
"Don't you hear me?" She parted from him snapping, face blank yet eyes blazing with a mix of desperation. "We are leaving, Rahil. I want to go back."
"Inara," Her father called her and she froze. "You don't talk to him like that."
What he had never seen dropped past her eyes. The first tear rolled down her cheek and she looked at him with hurt. Before another could leave the threshold of her eyes, she brushed past him towards the stairs and ran up.
Rahil stood frozen but not for long. Running behind her, he followed her calling her name to slow down. Blocking her way before she could lock herself inside what he presumed to be a sanctuary of her old room, she fought him until her parents' voice came behind them. She pulled him inside and locked it behind.
"Ini." He called her softly as he watched her palms wiping her face furiously, erasing any traces of the traitors.
"I don't want to talk to you."
"I am sorry." Her choked statement made him close his eyes in defeat. Nearing her, he touched her upper arm only to be shrugged away.
"D...did you know she was coming?" She stammered as if hearing the answers would kill him.
"I didn't." He admitted. "I wouldn't have hidden something like this from you."
"Open the door, Baccha."
She settled on her bed as the first knock on her door made its existence. She hugged herself, whispering amongst the other knocks that followed. "Tell her to go away."
"She is your mother." He reasoned.
"She has her other daughter. She will live." She was closing in, with words getting clearer and a resolve being built only to crumble with tiny dents as her father's voice joined. "I can't go out. I don't want to."
"Inara, this is no way to behave. Come out." Farish tried talking calmly yet the edge of his voice made her tears resurface.
Rahil turned and unlocked the door. Stepping out and closing it before her parents could see her. If he had to act as a wall between them to protect her, he would.
"Rahil, let me go in." Jamila protested but he stood firmly, blocking any way to the entrance.
"She is hurt, Mrs. Khan." He stated, making his words loud and clear.
"Then I will talk to her. I will explain her. She can't lock herself in like that."
"She doesn't need explaining. She needs to be understood." He shook his head declining her attempts. "Give me a few minutes. I promise I will bring her out but till then, please understand."
"Are you sure?" Farish asked him.
Rahil nodded with conviction. He had respected this man for a good period of his life. He was his father's old friend who came back into their life when her father was counting his last days. He had come to meet his old friend when the harsh truth was bestowed upon him, the man had sat beside his father for hours alone, stepped out, and asked his mother to contact him for anything. He had patted 18-year-old Rahil and left to return when his father had left this world.
Farish Khan's promise to keep a check wasn't hollow like many others he had come across. He had met and checked upon him from time to time, letting him find a way and always there to hear him talk about his failures.
Rahil had come to respect him for a lot of things he had done for them, but most was the silent support he had given him with his trust. He wouldn't it now.
"I promise." He repeated for his assurance.
His nod was proof that he still believed in Rahil. "Come, Jamila. We have guests to tend."
Her mother begrudgingly left the space, not before shooting a yearning look towards the door. He felt bad for Jamila, but it was nothing infront of what he felt seeing his wife. She was of most importance here.
He gathered his thoughts before entering her sanctuary. The bed was empty, and so was the room. Before the panic could rise, he heard the water tap working and he sighed in relief.
Waiting patiently, he leaned against the wall to contemplate his next action. How strange certain situations were? They had the power to break a person, instigate an unimaginable reaction out of someone, and change viewpoints.
The washroom door parted and she stepped out wiping her face free from any water drops. Her cheeks were flushed but were no competition to the redness her eyes carried. She had cried.
Rahil felt knocked at the thought. She placed the towel to air dry before searching drawers to dig for face cream and moisturizer to apply.
"Ini...Inara" He cleared his throat.
How he had come up with that name for her was a mystery. Inara wasn't a mouthful, yet watching her so shaken unexpectedly had made him utter it. Anything to calm her was the goal in those few minutes of agony.
She hummed softly, using her peripheral to see him but avoiding meeting his gaze head-on.
"We can go down and say I have an urgent meeting and leave. No one will say a word to you, I will see to it." He offered walking towards her. He itched to touch her, take her in his arms to make sure she wouldn't break again. "Or we can use your window and escape. No one will know. By the time they will come looking for us, we will be out of the town."
"And you will break your promise to Baba?" She asked with a little hope.
"That is insignificant infront of what I made to you. I wouldn't let anyone disrespect you. And that also includes the one where I will make sure you aren't forced to do anything you wouldn't want to." He completed.
She turned towards him with tearful eyes, taking a long step, and throwing her arms around his neck. "I am sorry for yelling at you."
"Hey!" He held her closer, supporting her waist to hold her to him.
"I am sorry for all the time I have irritated you. I am so sorry." She mumbled in his chest. "I would never threaten you again."
"Not with baby potty?" He asked smiling.
"Never." She fervently shook her head and his hold tightened on her. "I am sorry."
"Itni baar bhi sorry mat bolo ke main tumhe Inara ki jagah sorry keh ke bulao?" He joked kissing her crown, it came unconsciously that surprised him.
She grumbled inaudibly but never parted away. She needed this hold and he was willing to give her that. Any number of times she wanted.
He pulled her a little and caressed her cheek with his thumb to check for another layer of moisture, luckily there wasn't much that made him feel better.
She wasn't crying anymore, that was a good start.
"Come sit here." He made her sit on her vanity chair. Pulling her desk chair, he sat facing her. "Talk to me, Ini. Tell me what you felt, and why you reacted the way you did. Tell me anything."
"I don't want to see her. Not today, not ever." She hesitated fidgeting with her nail cuticles. His fingers clutched on hers.
"Why? Because she married the man you were promised to?" It was hard to think what her answer would destroy in him, yet it was important for him to know. To understand her.
"No!" She frowned with disgust. "I don't even pay a dime of thought to him. It is not because of him."
"Then what is it?"
"Iram betrayed me." She swallowed and looked away as if ashamed. "She stabbed me in the back...she left me in a position where I would have been a laughing stock for everyone. She did whatever she thought was right for her. She...didn't care about my feelings. We are called twins, Rahil. We had lived our whole lives together. We used to smile together. Cry together too. Everything we did was together. I thought we were connected in ways far more mystical than blood. We shared a womb, not together but not so apart too. I cared for her, I thought she cared for me too. But she didn't."
He silently squeezed her palm and she gulped the heaviness in her voice.
"For once she didn't think what I would go through after her actions would come to light. She brought a man between us. If...if she wanted to marry him, she could have come to me, or Baba and told her wishes. We have got everything from him. Whatever we touched, it was brought to us. We are his princesses. Do you think he wouldn't have opted for her happiness against societal standards? He would have. That is why he selected you for her, he knew how much of a gem you are. He was right when he chose you for his daughter."
Rahil didn't think that. He wouldn't be the right choice for a girl raised by Farish Khan but he refused to cut her off.
"But she didn't tell us. Instead, she went behind our backs to him. What...what if I hadn't seen them together and got married? That...would destroy both our lives. Still, when I found them, she didn't care what happened to me. What she cared about was a man above me. You heard her right? Not once she admit to feel bad for betraying me, I was her sister, Rahil. The least she could do was care about what her actions would reflect on me. While that man would be left unscathed, Iram would have got bashed a little. But after she had got married to him, people would have stopped talking about them but what about me? They would have forever taunted and badmouthed me. I would have been tagged as the girl who was left for another. I...I have always been focused on my career, I never had time to act like a bride material so those people my father lives with, they talk. I heard them. They were mocking me for being a so-called progressive woman who couldn't keep her fiancé in check. They snickered behind me; and said I must have lacked because the groom chose to be with my sister instead."
"Inara" She cut him off.
"Let me speak. I want to let this off from me." She silently inhaled. "If not for us being married, I would have to live among those people. My parents, maybe been supportive, but wouldn't have prevented those rumors from spreading. For my father, his political image is everything, and now that my brother has joined him. I can't think of a reason that would harm it. But Iram left me exactly there. I was at a crossroads. I was betrayed. My trust was broken and I was on the verge of being a black spot on my family name. She crushed my pride, my respect, and my honor ruthlessly below her feet. I can never forgive her. I won't."
"You don't have to." He assured her.
"But they expect..." She trailed.
He shook his head, "Let them. You don't have to fulfill someone's expectations, Ini. Forgiveness is not some sweets you share around. It is a piece of soul you exchange to amend your own. It is earned and most importantly given when the person infront deserves it. If you believe Iram doesn't deserve it, no power in the world could force you." If I must stand infront, I will to protect you.
This earned a smile from her. Watching it return he realized how precise it was.
And to keep it intact, he was ready to go to lengths this world could never weigh down.
"We can go down if you are ready." His eyes glanced at his wrist, checking the time. This was the first time he must have made use of this watch he wore.
"Is Mr. Rahil Sohail checking time on a watch?" She was getting back to herself, that annoying little chirp back in her tone.
"I don't have my phone on me." He averted his eyes bashfully. "I am making use of my resources as one marketer told me to."
"Where is your phone?" Inara took a sweep of her room, frowning as she couldn't spot his device. "Is it in your pocket? I can't see it here."
"No." He shook his head smiling to himself, it was weird how he had left behind his phone and never searched for it until now. "It is kept downstairs."
"No," she said horrified that had him chuckle at her funny face.
"Yes." He nodded with assertion.
"You...are without your phone for this long? I can't believe you."
He rolled his eyes shrugging the accusation in her tone. He can live without a phone. He wasn't...
"You are addicted to it." She taunted.
"I see you are perfectly fine, let's go down." He yanked her up from her place, glaring at her to stop the incoming words that were no less than a taunt. His fingers closed her mouth. "Speak no more. You don't want to exhaust your remaining energy now, do you?"
Inara scoffed, letting him guide her towards the door. "I will not talk to Ammi. Baba too if they ask me to forgive Iram."
He hummed opening the door for her, "We will manage something."
"I am serious."
He sighed. "I don't joke around, Ini. Do I?"
"I like that name." She smiled shyly. Averting her eyes from him, she took hold of his shirt sleeves as they descended the stairs.
He kept her close as they stepped down the last stair to meet pensive faces waiting for them.
"Inara, my Baccha." Her mother rushed towards only for her to hide behind him.
"Rahil." She mumbled as a reminder for him to relay her message, and he did.
No matter if he was stepping into a bad light, he happily would. But no way, she would be burning more of her soul by getting thrust into a place she doesn't want to be.
"I...I won't. I promise but let me see you. I was worried."
Inara kept her eyes down, clutching on his bicep as she slowly stepped out.
"Are you okay, my Jaan?" Letting her mother hug her for a minute and nodding to answer her.
"Let's go, dinner has been waiting for long," Farish announced.
They followed him, and all the while she walked at his side, shielding herself from Iram's vision. The same carried on during the dinner, she let him serve her. Rahil felt the tension around the table, and while Inara took smaller bites, Iram glared at her from across the table and participated in a conversation with Ashfaq and her mother who cordially asked her guests about food. She tried involving Inara but she kept herself to nods and tight smiles he had come to abhor in the entirety of this dinner.
A lesson learned here: Never hurt Inara.
For the girl wore her heart on her sleeves, when shattered it would be scattered to dust and she wouldn't carry it back with her. She lets the broken pieces pierce her and she never forgets her wounds. It was not the grudges she held; it was the stab injuries she constantly thought about.
There was no healing here. She was hurting, unforgiving, and bleeding.
And, she would keep bleeding, for there were no medicines to carve out scathed memories. They stay till the end of the world.
"Take more, Iram. You like this don't you?" Jamila offered her youngest, who shook her head horrified at the thought of eating anymore.
"Ammi, I am full." Iram resisted but Jamila forcefully added another spoon. "Ashfaq, Rahil, are you both not eating?"
He smiled at the formality glancing at her. Eating half of her regular portions, she slid the plate and gulped some water indicating she was done. He noticed but kept mum.
"Inara, did you even eat?" Her mother asked but was distracted by Iram again.
This place was her house, she shouldn't be uncomfortable here.
If she was, there was only one way he could help her, and that was to get her out of there.
"Why don't we serve the desert in the living room?" Jamila suggested and everyone followed.
Inara hadn't spoken a word in the last hour, the girl knew how to stop talking and her ways were surely dangerous.
Wordlessly, she stood up and helped gather plates like her mother.
"No, Inara. I will do it." Her mother's protest fell on deaf ears as she gathered a good amount and carried them to the kitchen. Jamila smiled bashfully at him. "Go, Rahil. Sit with others. She is my stubborn daughter."
While he sat sharing the three-seater couch with Aqmar who sat equally silent like Inara for the period of dinner, Farish took another leaving the love seat for Ashfaq.
He didn't wonder where Iram was but prayed for her to never reach Inara. Having enough, he couldn't wait to see another tear in her eyes for the day.
"Where is she?" Rahil whispered to Aqmar jutting his chin towards Iram.
Something dawned on Aqmar as if understanding his conflict and instincts to protect his wife, he assured him. "She excused herself for the washroom. Don't worry, she won't bother her again."
He nodded and sat back, relaxed for a while joining in on conversation with the men who discussed politics and business. Rahil silently listened whenever the topic shifted to By-elections being conducted in the region. While her family was involved actively in politics, Qadri was a renowned name before.
He was a simple man, the one who voted for them or against them. He made choices, not them.
Aqmar stopped speaking for a brief second, his eyes averting towards the back, and Rahil before he completed and sat back.
Rahil found her standing behind them, she was carrying a tray with small bowls of Rasmalai that was Inara's favorite. He almost smiled thinking the big smile she carried when they spotted a sweet shop and like a kid on Sugar Rush, she had searched for this one sweet. Pointing at the trays on display, his wife had made the most innocent face and pouted.
He had given in to her demand and bought an amount that could be savored for a week but the lady in question had gobbled them in 36 hours. He had come home craving one to find her ready to gulp the last piece. She had heard him, offered hers but the look of longing she had thrown towards the delicacy had him walk away.
That night, she had come bearing two spoons and an ice cream tub in their room, offering him a substitute.
"Ammi ne rasmalai banayi hain?" Iram announced walking behind her, warily glancing at her sister who clenched her jaw and placed the tray on the coffee table. "Mai bhi serve karungi."
Inara stepped back after passing one to Rahil and the other to Aqmar, letting her take over serving their father and her husband.
"Come sit. I want my daughter here." Farish patted the place near him addressing Inara.
"Really, Baba?" Iram's eyes widened with happiness.
Farish glanced between his daughters and looked uncomfortable, making a choice didn't come easily for a politician. Inara picked up her cup and took a seat between Rahil and Aqmar before he could clarify.
Farish stared at her with a forlorn look that made Rahil feel bad for the man.
"You took the wrong cup." Iram pointed Inara towards the other one which was filled with some extra ones. "Ammi, always gets you more sweets. Don't you remember, Appi?"
For the first time, Inara's eyes met hers without a layer covering them, "I remember everything."
His fingers found hers clutching the couch edge, nails digging into the fabric. He inserted his palm within hers and she dug her nail in his to make him remove his hold. She gritted, glaring at him, and giving up when he didn't budge.
"Stop thinking." He chided, making her avert her eyes and playing into the bowl.
Jamila came a minute later and her eyes moved towards the last bowl, watching her daughter not taking the special bowl her smile faltered.
"We were waiting for you." Her father nodded for her to not say another word and sit down.
"Do you want to leave?" Rahil asked her once the desserts had come to an end.
"Can we?" She whispered hopefully. She had tortured her lower lip, stressed her jaw, gritted her teeth, and never completed that dessert bowl. She had fidgeted with her nail cuticles, kept her words invisible, and her comfort out of the window sitting stiff.
Never this girl had sat with her legs down on a couch for straight 10 minutes with him, she had always pulled them up to cross and lean back.
How her family had been so distant and unbothered with her discomfort was alien to him. Farish Khan loved his children equally if not more. Sure, they tried talking to her, making up for upsetting her but the actions halted the moment Iram had come to frame.
As if not to upset Iram, they were ready to look over Inara.
"Do you know what happened last week, Ammi?" Iram asked stealthily conjecturing a conversation about the event she arranged at her marital home. Narrating a tale, she touched the topics and moved until directly addressing Inara who flinched at her name. "Why did you not come? I thought I would talk to you then. That's why I asked for you alone."
"She wasn't well. I told you then, Iram." Her mother excused.
"Alone?" She snapped towards him, he squirmed uncomfortably. She hissed for him. "You said you couldn't go because you were busy. Did you lie?"
He blinked in admission. "I had to. Your mother didn't invite me."
"What?" She glanced at the party with disbelief.
"You kept asking me to come, it was uncomfortable. She said Iram wanted only you at her place, not me." He knew he would be getting more than those hushed whispers from here. "Don't react now. I will explain it all."
"I expected better from you, Rahil." She shook her head in disappointment.
"...it would be so much fun then, not that it already wasn't. I had called the best of the families from Hyderabad. All those who deserved to be known were there. My mother-in-law had let me make the guest list. She was so happy with my choices. There were Adami's, Shah's but not Shehryaar Shah or his wife. His brother's family was present but still. All the businessmen and Ashfaq's partners were present. It was such a significant gathering. You know Mrs. Malik thought we were already announcing..."
"Iram." Inara got more attention than just the person she wanted. "I refused to come that day because I didn't want to see you. I was perfectly well that day."
"W...what do you mean? Of course, that was not the case." Jamila stammered.
"You wanted me to talk to her, Ammi? Then I will speak. No one would speak between us." She declared, with a slacked jaw. Her eyes burned molten lava. "You, Iram Qadri, will never hear, see, or get to know about me from here on. I should have said this on the day I had found you kissing his despicable man..."
"Mind your words, Inara. He is my husband."
"...but apologies, I believe better late than never." She continued unfazed. "I thought I would forgive you someday, but not anymore. You forgive one who wants to be forgiven, not those who shamelessly keep making mistakes and expect others to look past them. I am not that someone anymore. I refuse to be that someone anymore. I am done thinking of you as my younger sister. A minute apart you had on me has run its course, Iram. It has done its job and is exhausted. From today, I, Inara Sohail, will have only one sibling, that is if he wants to be." She glanced at her brother.
Aqmar's eyes stared Inara down, she gulped and fixed her stare back at an ashen Iram.
"You...you can't say this...No, Ina...ra..." She stumbled around her thoughts.
"You will be no one to me from hereon. Your existence has destroyed my trust in family, and I will forever resent you for this." Her strength betrayed her words as she swallowed the onslaught of tears she felt threatening. "I have left one last gift for you, go find it if you want."
Her parents stared at her with shock, bewilderment, disbelief, and whatnot as she stood up and stormed out of the main door. Rahil came following her to witness her stand next to their ride. She was too calm, almost like a stone as she waited for him.
"Take me away from here." Her whisper pinched him.
"I will."