Chapter 20: 16. 𝗙𝗮𝗿𝗾 𝗛𝗮𝗶.

❛ Main tujhe chor doon?

Bhala main apni saansein kaise rok loon? ❜

~Mehek Syed

Third Person's POV:

“Apni behen Seyran ka janaza uthte dekhna, Philippines jane se pehle....”

An eerie silence took place in the room as Altan's words thundered across the walls, snatching the woman's breath away.

He took a step closer to her and smug polished his face, “Befikari se jau, par ussey pehle apni behen ki qabr be phool daal ke jana.”

Mahoor's whole being shattered hearing his threats. An ache rose in her chest, making her eyes glisten with water.

Seyran was the other half of her soul and she was the reason Mahoor was living.

Mahoor had no father and her mother who was alive played the role of the dead.

From sharing each and every detail of her day to crying about how unfair life is, Mahoor filled Seyran with every information of her days and so did Seyran.

They stood by each other through good to worst. They had their own quarrels which only pulled them closer.

And now Altan was trying to take away the only reason for her survival.

She'd be damned if she'd let him take away the only precious human to her.

“Tchtchtchtch..” Altan clicked his tongue, seeing Mahoor's nose flare in anger.

“Gussa aa raha hai? Phoolo ke saath saath, duaon ki bhi zarurat padegi tumhari behen ko tou Durood Shareef padh...”

A harsh slap from Mahoor cut short Altan.

She gripped the collar of his kurta and the shawl slipped down from her frame.

Her fingers got imprinted on his milky white skin and he looked at her hand clutching his collar tightly.

The touch of her soft fingers on his clean shaven cheek, expedited his heartbeat, making him flustered at the fact that she willingly touched him again.

Altan touched his cheek with his free hand, the burn of her brutal strike was still lingering on the side of his face but he didn't care about it.

All he could fathom was how Mahoor willingly caressed his face with her fingers even when she couldn't tolerate his mere presence in her ambiance.

The veins on Mahoor's neck bulged, gritting her jaw, she hissed.“Meri behen ko thodi si bhi takleef pohchai ya phir usey kuch karne ka socha, tou aapki maiyyat ko kandha main khud dungi!”

Altan smirked. His sea green eyes glittered with mirth. The threat which Mahoor delivered didn't even ounce a pinch of fear in him.

He was completely adrift from the current affairs happening around him as he was lost in his own la la land.

Altan bent a fragment to stoop down to Mahoor's level and his lips curled in a gorgeous smile which Mahoor probably witnessed for the first time.

“Tum mujhe chuu ne ke bahane dhoond rahi ho?”

Mahoor looked at him in horror as he turned his face and tapped his cheek, “Tou ek aur thappad lagau, meri khwahish puri kar do.”

She harshly left his collar and panted hard.

“Pagal aadmi! Apna check-up kara lein, kyu ke aapko doctor ki zarurat hai and you'll definitely proved out to be a psycho.”

He took a step forward whereas Mahoor took one back.

“Tum meri ho jaogi tou doctors ke paas bhi chala jaunga.” His voice came out slow.

Altan didn't stop there, he kept walking towards her, making her step back.

“Tum nahi janti apni ehmiyat meri zindagi mein.”

Mahoor crashed into the wall, a little too hard as the back of her head hit the concrete and it began to ache.

Altan ceased just a two steps away from her. Seeing her wince in pain, his hand clutched the back of her head, massaging it to soothe the pain.

Mahoor wriggled in his hold, “Chodein, mujhe!”

He ignored her protest and continued his actions. His will to break the wall which caused hurt to her, was getting deadly.

Mahoor groped his hand and tried to free her hair from his grasp but the man didn't even budge as his fingers were moving very tranquilly which were pushing her into a state of drowsiness.

He placed his free hand on her side, restricting her any plan for exit however he didn't close the distance between them.

Altan softly jerked his face down, “Mai chod hi tou nahi sakta tumhe.” His voice dropped to a rough pitch.

The sincerity laced behind his each word, stilled Mahoor in her place.

“Mujhse sab ho jayega par tumse duri mere bas mein nahi.”

His confession made Mahoor feel light-headed.

His sweet confession sounded more like a psychotic one as the more he put his heart out for her, the more it terrified Mahoor.

Only in movies and books, she has bystand such an admission of love and it felt okay because it wasn't happening with her.

But in reality, dread was crawling up to her skin, jumbling her mind with utter frustration and fear.

To draw in the oxygen, became a daunting task for the poor soul.

It felt like an elephant had stepped on her chest, constricting her lungs, making it unfeasible for her to breathe.

Mahoor lowered her face to the ground, her hair falling from sides like a curtain shielding her beauty.

She began to count in her mind as her doctor suggested. She knew she was close to having it again as she didn't have one for seven and a half months.

One, two, three, four, five....

‘Ya khud iss insan ke saamne nahi..’

It felt as if her ears were releasing a hot vapour and the ability to suck the air in her lungs for her survival was getting low.

Altan raised his finger to hold her chin but his measures desist, hearing a loud commotion going on right behind the closed doors of his personal study.

‘Bhench*d!’

Softly unclasping his hand from Mahoor's hair, Altan backed away.

Mahoor slid down the wall and buried her face between her legs, shooting up Altan's concern.

He immediately crouched down to her level.

“Altan, di sari teh ve'ay chi maa tah da'anah shi!” A feminine yell came from the other side.

(Altan, tell this man to let me in!)

“Tum thik ho?” Seeing her body heave up, Altan's heartbeat fastened.

Mahoor's left hand shook profusely and it became more difficult for her to breathe.

'27, 28, 29, 30, 31..' She counted.

Mahoor nodded her head at Altan's question, for him to not to bother her with his questionnaire.

He stroked her head but Mahoor whacked his hand away.

“Akela chod dein mu..mujhe.”

A loud bang on the door muffled her whispers but Altan heard it.

Even when the piece of wood was being hammered again and again, demanding Altan's urgent attention, he didn't spare a scrap of his scrutiny.

Mahoor was more significant than any other ruckus occurring right now.

“Za pwi gam chi ta'h la'h chi saraye'h dewi mir mna lapa'ra chi tara'h warakh ra'ali wa chap'ah mah'li pa ma nashi zawarahli.”

(I know who you are with, you can't ignore your mother for a woman who just came yesterday.)

Another yawp of disgruntlement, pierced Altan's ears, making his jaw ticked and palm curl into a tight fist.

He had enough of the woman yelling and banging the door, knowing clearly it wouldn't stop unless he'd unlock the door and let the woman accuse him of his deeds.

He stood up to his height and seeing Mahoor in the same position, he let her be because he knew he drew the line enough for her senses to go disabled.

Altan strolled towards the door with anger blinding his sight, he unlatched the door and his sea green eyes collided with a dark shade of green ones.

“Manane chi dumri wakhti darwaza khulasa khra.”

(Thank you for opening the door so early!)

“Pata hai afghan ka khoon hai aap mein, par urdu boliye.”

The woman rolled her eyes at her son's sarcastic remark.

“Mujhe pata chala tum hindustan se aaye ho par...”

Altan showed his palm to her, ceasing her conversation.

“Ghamzeh Sahiba, ainda se mere darwaze pe yu tamasha karne ki jurrat nahi karna baki aap khud janti hai main kya kar sakta hu.” He bellowed with each words dipped in venom but the deadly threat didn't miss the target to hit his mother's heart.

Ignoring his horrendous threat, Ghamzeh raised her hand and caressed her son's cheek, “Ma'ateh yoz'khl muru wa'ayah, Altan. Zama gurun'ah sat'ah sa'khah awrih di law ta'ah wa'al di.”

(Call me mum for once, Altan. My ears have been yearning to hear it from you.)

Altan took a hold of her hand and dropped it to her side. He didn't miss the sight of a hurt flash in his mother's dark green eyes but then again where was his mother when he needed her the most?

He tilted his head, “Ay fir shru ho gayi. Jandi vi ay mennu nai aandi Pashto fir vi ae hi bolsi.”

(Ae Phir shuru ho gayi. Jaanti hai mujhe nahi aati Pashto fir bhi yahi zuban bolni hai hai.)

Ghamzeh's brows furrowed in confusion, “Kya keh rahe ho tum?”

Altan scoffed, “Ab aayi na aap line pe.”

Ghamzeh saw the finger marks on her son's face and her hand flew to her mouth in concern.

“Ye kis ne kia?” She touched Altan's face but he immediately retrieved her palm from his cheek and agony consumed Ghamzeh's sides.

Altan's jaw clenched and he let go of his mother's hand.

“Kis haq se aap ye puch rahi hi hai?”

“Bete ho tum mere, fikar rehti hai tumhari.”

Altan let out a humorous laugh at her worry, “Yeh dramay na apne bandh kare aur yaha se nikle, yaha koi award function nahi chal raha jo aapki nautanki ke liye aapko award dia jayega.”

“Altan-

Aback, Ghamzeh's gaze fell on a figure behind Altan who was trying to stand on her two feet and Altan's eyes followed her stare.

Mahoor stood up as her breathing became even. She heard a scratchy female voice and Altan's husky one.

She saw the two having a conversation which would easily make her escape from the lion's den.

Altan's hardened eyes softened as he saw Mahoor standing on her two feet, looking at them.

Mahoor saw an old woman who was particularly in her mid fifties but what shocked her was the height, complexion and the color of the lady's eyes.

The woman was nearly six feet tall, a few inches shorter than Altan. If Mahoor thought that Altan was the fairest, she was probably wrong because the lady in front stood at the paler side.

‘Roz subah white paint mein dubki lagate hai dono maa bete.’

The lady was wearing a dark blue formal outfit and her jet black hair which reached her shoulders was left open.

Mahoor didn't need a genius to connect two and two to know that it was Altan's mother as many of his features like the color of his eyes, hair and body matched with the woman standing behind Altan.

The mother and the son only shared these three major characteristics as the lady had soft and feminine features and had some wrinkles garnishing her skin, whereas Altan had hard and manly qualities.

‘Baap ke jaise dikhta hoga, mushtanda.’ She thought.

Mahoor didn't have the energy to run to his mother and complain about her son's deed.

After having a hard time getting her breathing stabilized and almost an anxiety attack, she felt exhausted.

Exhausted to a point where if she'd just lie down, she'd fall into a deep slumber and wouldn't wake up even if the earth would dance in misery.

Ghamzeh looked at the girl standing far away from her. She was very short compared to her son's height. She had a wheatish tone and her son had a fair pigment. Her hair reached just above her waist.

She was wearing thin rimmed glasses which meant she was blind. A set of braces concealed her teeth.

‘Sankhwe Altan haq wa kolai shu?’ Ghamzeh thought.

(What did Altan see in her?)

“Tum thik ho abhi?” Altan's voice echoed in the silent room.

Mahoor peered at him as he was sauntering in her direction, the lady following him.

She didn't have the power to tolerate his inner Shakespeare so, taking the advantage of the distance between them and seeing the door of the office open, Mahoor darted out of the personal study.

Altan's brow raised in amusement seeing her sprint briskly.

All the hilarity discarded his being, once he saw Mahoor's shawl on the floor and that meant any one would see her without her body shield.

Nobody would dare to raise their eyes and look at her but the mere thought of somebody seeing her without her shawl, made him want to pluck out the eyes of that person and play marbles with them.

He covered the space where the shawl was lying on the floor in just two strides, picking it up, he promptly jogged out of the door to hand it over to Mahoor.

Ghamzeh huffed, “Marathon chal raha hai yaha pe?”

“Aisa lag raha mai koi maze mein bhaag rahi hu khatam hi nahi ho raha ye corridor!”

“Saare darwaze ek rang ke kaunsa kamra tha bhai?”

Suddenly her foot got crushed into a copper vase, halting her steps.

Thanks to all her clumsiness.

She held her hurting foot and jumped back and forth on one leg, “MAKHAN CHOR!”

Her face scrunched in pain as she limped on her foot,“Kidnap bhi mai hou, shadi bhi meri hi zabardasti se ho, maar bhi mujhe hi lage aur har jagah se mere hi L lage.”

Altan stopped in his way and saw her bouncing while clutching her one foot, he immediately paused a few feet away from her.

Mahoor dropped her leg down to the floor, seeing Altan looking at her feet with distress on his face.

Altan immediately squatted and held her feet softly. His eyebrows drew together in anguish, seeing the middle and little toe of her feet swollen.

“Kis ne kaha tha tumhe bhaagne ke liye? Dekha lag gayi na!”

Mahoor fumed at his touch and retreated her ankle from his hold.

“Haath na lagaye mujhe, kitni baar ek hi baat bolni padti hai aapko?!” Altan stood up and glanced at her clenched fists, giving him hints that the woman in front of him was indeed angry.

Bypassing her objections, he moved forward to spread the shawl over her shoulders but Mahoor had adequate patience for Altan invading her personal space even when she asked him to stay away from her.

She lifted her knee to knock it on his manhood but Altan being the Mafia Leader, was excellent at reflexes.

But could not dodge the little woman's harsh slaps.

He promptly held her knee, ceasing her brutal actions from hitting his member and his brows shot up in mischief.

“Aisi jagaho pe nahi maaro jis wajah se humare bacche hone mein masla ho jaye.”

Mahoor's jaw dropped and Altan's lip curled into a simper.

Taking the advantage of her startled state, he spread the shawl over her shoulders.

Her face wrinkled in disgust and she tightened her grasp on the shawl.

“Tumhara kamra do kamre chod ke aage hai, thik mere kamre ke paas. Kuch chahiye rahega tou bejhijhak aajana.”

The audacity of this brute to ask her to come to him for whatever she needed and what she wanted most was her freedom.

Which Altan wasn't willing to grant.

“Aasman bhi girne aa raha hoga na mujh par tab bhi aapke kamre ke ird gird na ghumu main, ye baat apni khopdi mein fit kar lein aap!”

With that Mahoor strode out, leaving Altan alone.

“Gussa bhi aap ka qaatilana hai.” Shaking his head with a hint of smile, Altan murmured to himself.

He swiveled around to go back to his study but someone stood in his path.

“Agar aise lehje mein kisi ne tumse baat karne ki himaqat ki hoti jaisi iss ladki ne ki, woh abhi zameen ke andar hota.”

Altan paid no heed to his mother's statement and moved towards his office but Ghamzeh held his hand, ceasing his steps.

“Ye nishan tumhare gaal pe uske hi diye hue hai. Kyu seh-”

Altan glanced at his mother's grasp then his gaze flickered back to her. Narrowing his eyes at his mother, he spoke gravelly.

“Wo mujhe thappad lagaye ya fir mujhe jaan se maar dein, wo humara mamla hai. Aapko koi ijazat nahi hai koi sawal karne aur aap koi haq nahi rakhti meri zindagi mein jo mai aap ko wazahat du.”

Freeing his hand from his mother's clutch, Altan moseyed to his study.

“Itne andhe ho chuke ho ki uski bey-aidbi bhi seh rahe ho? Jab ki ye baat se hum kya, dunia waqif hai agar koi aur hota tou tumne uski zuban kaat di hoti.”

It was true. Once a man had the audacity to raise his voice at the Mafia leader, Altan chopped off the man's tongue and handed it to the man itself.

Since then no one had the audacity to even look him in the eye as the whole mafia ground got aware of his torturous actions.

After witnessing this incident, Ghamzeh knew he didn't tolerate any kind of contemptuous behavior as he was a hot headed man and being in the mafia, it only hurt his ego to receive any ill treatment from anyone.

Altan halted in between and looked over his shoulders, “Farq hai,”

He stared ahead on his path and his eyelids closed for a moment.

An image of Mahoor laughing at her own lame jokes, flashed before his eyes.

It calmed his nerves down and only Mahoor had the magic of doing so.

His eyes opened and they were a lighter shade than the dark, back to its original color but his pupil dilated as he spoke softly,

“Woh log hai, ye meri Mahoor hai.”

•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•

Altan bhi delulu niklega ye kise thi khabar?

And the pashto dialogues aren't accurate as they are from some app which my dear friend Areeba who lives across the border, helped me translating it from English to Pashto. If someone here is fluent in Pashto, please dm me on Instagram, it'd be a huge help!

Thank you, Areeba for helping me at the last moment! You are a saviour, darling!🫂❤️⭐✨