Chapter 22: 18. 𝗚𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗚𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗮𝘆!

❛Kisi roz uski ek tasveer khinchi thi maine,

Ab vo tasveer apni taraf khinchti hai mujhe..❜

Third Person's POV:

“Kamaal ho ladki tum bhi, kaccho ke naam pe sara bazaar le aayi.” Seyran said while looking at the carry bags on the room's floor with wide eyes.

Mahoor laid on the bed staring at the ceiling.

“Maine sirf chudia li thi. Yeh sara ka sara bazaar Mirza ne zabardasti, meri marzi ke khilaf jaa kar, mujhe kheench kar, khareeda hai.”

Seyran's brow drew together, “Matlab?”

“Matlab yeh ki,” Mahoor shot up and sat crossing her legs, facing her body to Seyran.

“Wo keh rahe the, arey tum toh kuch le hi nahi rahi. Yeh dekho yeh kitna accha lagega tum par, yeh sirf tumhare liye bana hai.”

Seyran scoffed, “Kehna tha ki mujh pe azadi bhi achi lagti hai joh sirf mere liye hi bani hai toh jaane do mujhe Philippines.”

“Maine deewar pe sar nahi maarna ab aur. Woh sunenge nahi isiliye police station jana hi best hai.”

Seyran nodded in understanding, “Par janab bhool gaye hai ki wohi dukaan pe wohi cheez mil jati hai toh woh samaan sirf tumhare liye kaise bani hai?”

“Banda, bhai dukan wale ko kaha agar iske jaise aur hai toh de do magar kisi aur ko nahi jaana chahiye,” Mahoor looked at the bags on the floor, “Isiliye main yeh chappan bags leke aayi hu behen, kyon ki ek cheez ki do-teen copy bhi hai uss mein.”

Seyran's mouth formed an 'O' and Mahoor continued, “Bhai, mujhe har stall pe bande ne rukaya hai. Mai aage badh jaati toh meri shawl apne haath mein pakad ke, kheench ke mujhe le gaye ki kuch lo yaha se,”

Mahoor's nose flared in annoyance and her teeth dug in her lower lip, “Mai keh rahi thi nahi lena hai kuch bhi, hai mere paas sab toh kehte, phir bhi lo.”

She stroked her thumb and middle finger on her forehead, trying to get rid of the ache which was occurring because of her frowning constantly.

“Kya gunah kiye the jo aise bande se mera paala pada bhai.”

Seyran put her arm around Mahoor's neck and pulled Mahoor into herself, “Thode ghanto ki baat hai, phir hum yeh qaid khaane se nikal jayenge. Aur isey ek bura khwab samajh ke aage badh jayenge, thike?”

Mahoor wrapped her hands around Seyran's tiny waist as her face was in the crook of Seyran's neck.

Seyran never failed to provide the motherly warmth to her.

“In Sha Allah! Tu nahi hoti toh main toot ke marr gayi hoti.”

Seyran whacked her hand on Mahoor's back, making her blench at the pain arising in her body.

Mahoor backed away from Seyran's embrace and pulled her braid, “Maar kyu rahi hai!”

Seyran punched her back, “Tu marne ki baatein kyu kar rahi hai?”

Mahoor smacked her on the arm, “Kyu ki yeh sach hai.”

Seyran pinched her on the thigh, “Agar tu mari tou mera bhi janaza uthega.”

Mahoor had enough of her attacks and jumped on Seyran, making them fall back on the bed with a thud.

“Abey bhains! Uth mere upar se!”

“Nahi, uthungi! Tu maregi tou mai tujhe maar dalungi! Bakwas nahi kiya kar!”

Seyran lightly punched Mahoor as the woman couldn't handle her weight and was getting crushed under her.

“Uth jaa bhai varna sacchi mein uth jana hai maine.” Seyran's voice came out of breath and a low muffle.

Mahoor raised up and Seyran took a sigh of relief, only for that relief to whoosh in the air as Mahoor dropped herself again on Seyran, letting out a painful groan.

“Tu uth gayi toh maine bhi uth jana hai iss duniya se. Maine kahi tujhe akela nahi chodna!”

“Bada casual tareeka hai batane ka, uth jaa bhai mai kahi nahi jaa rahi tujhe chod ke, na tujhe jane dungi mujhe chod ke.”

Finally, Mahoor got up from Seyran and laid down beside her but in return, she earned a hard slap on her stomach.

“Yeh mere pait pe trampoline samajh ke kudne ke liye tha.”

“Ab hisab hua barabar, ab tu ek maari tou mai chaar maarungi.”

Seyran rolled her eyes at Mahoor and they laid in silence on the bed.

Seyran tangled their legs together, and Mahoor lazily threw an arm on her abdomen.

“Mai itne ghanto tak gayab thi, kuch hua toh nahi na tumhare saath?”

Seyran shook her head, “Nahi. Main kamre se sirf ek dafa bahar nikli thi Aryan ko dhoondne par woh namakool aadmi mujhe mila nahi.”

Mahoor furrowed,“Kyun? Unhe kyu dhoond rahi thi tum?”

“Chaar baatein, aur chaar gaaliya sunau usey isiliye.”

Mahoor chuckled, “Unhe shayad aabhas ho gaya hoga isiliye nahi mile honge.”

“Tum aur tumhari hindi!”

Mahoor beamed at her cousin, “Dono hi bade pyare hai.”

She got up from the bed and stepped down, raising questions from Seyran.

“Kaha chali tum ab?”

Mahoor stopped in between as she threw her dupatta on the bed and glanced at Seyran.

“Potty karne bhai! Itne dino baad pressure aaya hai isiliye gawana nahi chahti yeh sunehra mauka!”

Seyran gave her a thumbs up, “Good luck! Jamm ke karo, narmi se karo, bharpoor karo.”

Mahoor shot a salute sign, “Thank you!”

•♡•

“Kahein Sultan Zaeem, kya khidmat kar sakta hu main aapki?”

Altan kept the typewriter aside and Arya sat on the chair.

They were currently sitting in Altan's study after Altan had rang up Arya to discuss some important things.

He opened his drawers and pulled out a stack of photographs.

Altan passed the pictures to Arya and without asking any questions, he took them and had a look at them.

Arya's eyes broadened in amazement as he saw the pictures one by one.

“Bolna padega Altan, waqayi mein ladki apne naam jaisi hai, hoor.”

Altan scowled and kicked him from under the desk, “Meri kudi nu nazar na laga, Ma Sha Allah ke!”

(Meri ladki ko nazar nahi laga)

Arya raised his hands in surrender as he chortled lightly, “Ma Sha Allah! Nazar na lage.”

Altan muttered an ‘Ameen’ under his breath.

Arya went through the photos once again and he smiled gently, “Mujhe lagta hai farishte bhi zameen pe utar aaye honge Mahoor ki khoobsurati ki hifazat karne, pyari hai bohot.”

Altan snatched away the photos from Arya's hand whose eyebrows rose in amusement.

“Zyada na dekhi uski taraf aur tareef bhi nahi karni.”

“Lagta hai koyle ki khaan mein tu bhun raha hai isiliye jalne ki badbu aa rahi hai.”

“Jal nahi raha main bass nazar lag jayegi usey toh nahi dekho uski taraf.”

Arya'a lip curled in a jibbed grin, “Whatever sails your boat, Sultan.”

Altan ignored his remarks and brought up the topic he wanted to talk about.

“Main chahta hu hum ek new jewellery collection nikale joh Mahoor se inspired hoga aur woh collection ka naam Hasrat-E-Hoor hoga.”

“Fantastic man! I'm all ready for this new campaign bas ab designs ready karne padenge aur ek koi acchi model.”

Altan placed his elbows on the table and intertwined his fingers, “Ye Mahoor ke liye collection hai toh wohi iss campaign ka face hogi.”

Arya arched an eyebrow, “Maanegi woh?”

Altan rested his back in the chair and the corner of his eyes crinkled as he said with pride, “Manaunga main.”

"Aur designs ka kya?"

“Woh main kar lunga. Do gold mein, teen diamond mein aur ek platinum mein.”

“Sahi par yeh worldwide sabko available kab hoga?”

Altan flicked his fingers, “Ye kisi ke liye available nahi hoga siwaye Mahoor ke. Hum ek event rakhenge jaha log aake woh jewellery dekhenge and whatever we will earn through that occasion will go straight to Palestine.”

Arya hummed. Altan bobbed his head and Arya asked, “Toh isiliye tumne mujhe wo photos dikhayi taki main agree kar saku for Mahoor to be the face of this project?”

“Nahi. Main bass isiliye dikha raha tha kyu ke ek image tumhare dimaag mein aaye ki she's the only person for this campaign.”

Arya scratched the growing beard on the side of his mouth as he chuckled, “Jhoot nahi kahunga par jab tune idea toh mere khyal mein pehli ladki Mahoor hi aayi thi.”

“Wo hai bhi toh hoor isiliye uska aana tere dimag mein yeh idea ke liye laazmi tha.”

“Agreed, sir. Par ye pehla Ruya jewels ka single exhibit collection hoga jaha pe pehli baar we will be having a new face.”

Ruya Jewels, that's what Altan and Arya owned as they were equal partners of the biggest jewellery empire around the world.

They both were partners not only in the jewellery firm but also they together held several malls, hotels, restaurants and many real estate companies, making them have their own identity across the globe.

Altan rubbed his chin and his lips were threatening to curl in a grin which Arya noticed and his eyes softened seeing Altan behave normally after years of agony.

“Muskura lo khul ke. Lamhe ye khushi ke dobara na aane. Par kyu hasi choot rahi hai tumhari?”

Altan picked up the single wallet size photo of Mahoor, where she was holding a flower to her cheek from her nanu's aangan and grinning at the camera.

His fingers stroked Mahoor's cheek in the picture, “Tasalli hai ki uska pehla launch iss industry mein humare brand se hoga.”

“Usne advertisements kayi sare kiye hai toh yeh uska pehla launch toh nahi hua.”

Altan nodded as he placed her picture in his wallet, “Par usey recognition milega immediately humare brand ke through aur kayi saare andhe offers.”

Arya wriggled his brows in mischief, “Nepotism kar rahe ho tum.”

Altan smirked, “Ab apne haath mein hai toh kyu sahi faida nahi uthaye?”

His smirk fell and a scowl took it's side on Altan's face, “Bas Mahoor apni zidd na dikhaye.”

“Wo bhi par ek baar tumhari shadi ho gayi toh media usey chodegi nahi. Uska agla, pichla sab nikalegi kyu ke she'd be married to the most famous and eligible businessman of Pakistan.”

Altan shifted in his seat, “Hadh tak rahegi media toh thik hai varna inhe inki aisi aukat dikhaunga ki duniya tamasha dekhegi kyun Altan Mirza se pange nahi lene chahiye.”

Arya smiled evilly, “Woh toh sab mein badi mazedar cheez hogi dekhne.” His grin changed into a goofy one, “Ek baat batau, vaise shaadi kab kar rahe ho?”

“Kal sari families ke saath Adnan ke ghar meeting hai. Aur wahi discuss hoga coronation ki date jo maine pakki kar li hai agle hafte ki.”

There were eight families; Mirza, Shaikh, Ali, Rajput, Shehzad, Shekhawat, Khan, Sayyad, they ruled under the specific states of Pakistan.

Mirza's were the one who held the crown of the Sultan from the beginning as they were the first mafia family and the crown was passed to their heirs.

The Originals.

They were the head under whom the other seven families worked accordingly.

The families were to inform everything to the Sultan and maintain the peace amongst their states.

They were obliged to a pact where the Sultan's decision was the conclusion and nobody had any other alternative but to comply with it.

“Zyada time na mai le sakta hu, na main Mahoor ko de sakta hu. Woh bhaag ne ko bhi kam nahi hai.”

Arya let out a laugh,“Asli maze toh jab teri bebe aayegi tab honge. Mahoor ne tab tera joh jeena haram karna hai, tu dekhio.”

Altan shook his head, “Bebe ko main dekh lunga par jeena haram karne ke hi naate woh mujhse baat karti hai na, wohi kafi hai.”

Arya tilted his head and stared at Altan in a daze, “Accha lag raha hai tumhe aisa dekh kar, meri saalon ki mehnat ab kaam aa rahi hai.”

Altan ignored him, “Zaviyar se kaho kal dopahar tak woh mujhe yaha wapis chahiye, bohot ho gaya vacation.”

Arya clicked his tongue, “Baccha hai, yaar. Jee lene de zara usey!”

“Pacchis saal ka ghoda ho chuka hai aur pichle do mahine se jee hi raha hai. Ab usey kaho kal wapas aaye varna yeh ghar ko alvida kahein.”Altan remarked contemptuously.

Arya threw his hands in surrender, “Thike, bhai. Mai usey abhi kahunga toh woh aajayega kal tak.”

Altan nodded and a knock on his office door resonated in his study, making his heartbeat fast and making him feel giddy at the thought of Mahoor coming to see him.

With the adrenaline rush in his body, very exhilarated, he answered, “Aa jayein.”

Only for his hopes to die down once his eyes took in the sight of the blond hair and gray eyes.

Despondency coursed through his veins and he sat up straight in his chair for the unwelcome guest.

Arya saw the glint in Altan's eyes fade away as he saw Jannat enter the room.

He didn't feel bad for him, instead he was happy to see a human version of Altan.

“Kaho Jannat kya baat hai?” Arya asked.

“Baat ka batangad Sultan khud bana ke aaye hai!”

Arya glanced at Altan who raised his eyebrows at him, clueless of his own doings.

“Aur maine kya kiya?”

“Woh tum khud hi dekh lo.” Jannat handed the iPad to Altan which she was holding and he read the content very precisely.

The famous businessman Altan Mirza was spotted with a mysterious woman in the evening in Lahore's famous Anarkali Bazaar. Maybe the wedding bells are very near for the dashing bachelor of Pakistan.

He swiped the screen only to see the same content in different words by different news companies.

There were pictures of Altan and Mahoor but fortunately her face wasn't in the sight as the images of him helping her to get into the car or Altan talking to her where her back was to the camera.

Altan gave the iPad to Arya whose eyes widened as saucers.

Altan sat there very calmly, unbothered.

“Agar Mahoor ki koi photo aajati toh main inki ye gossip company hi bandh kara deta.”

Jannat huffed, “Sultan, this is not good for your reputation. At least not..”

Altan showed his finger, stopping her from talking further.

“Mahoor ke saath dikhe jane mein meri shan ko aur chamak aayegi agar naam kharab hoga toh woh uska hoga mere saath dikhne mein kyu ke media aur chaar alfaz laga ke fizool baatein karne mein maahir hai.”

Arya gave the iPad to Jannat, “Vaise bhi yeh mysterious woman ki mystery agle hafe hi khatam ho jayegi.”

Jannat's gray eyes swamped with confusion, “Yani?”

“Yani main agle hafte nikah kar raha hu Mahoor se aur media mein yeh baat tab pata lag hi jayegi.”

Jannat's face blanched as she tried to take the news in.

“Ag..agle hafte?”

Altan didn't answer and Jannat peered at Arya asking if this was true and he bobbed his head, clearing her confusion.

“Altan, tum yeh shadi sirf Sultan ke title ke liye kar rahe ho na?”

Altan didn't lift his eyes from the photograph book as one by one he was placing Mahoor's pictures in it.

Jannat glanced at the photos then back at Altan who was busy, avoiding her question purposely.

“Maine kuch pucha toh jawab ki ummeed karti hu.”

“Peeche hai darwaza, seedha exit tumhe tumhare jawab ke paas le jayega.”

Hurt consumed Jannat's being and without uttering a word, she left the study whilst her eyes filled with tears.

“Jannat!”

“Jannat!”

“Arey, blondie ruk!”

Arya clasped her wrist, only for him to come with her weeping face.

“Pata tha tum ro rahi ho isiliye aaya tumhare peeche.”

“Arya, mai nahi dekh sakti Altan ko kisi aur ke saath. Mujhse yeh baat accept hi nahi ho rahi ki wo kisi se pyar ka..kar sakta hai.”

Arya engulfed her in a tight hug, letting her sob into his chest.

“Maine bachpan se usey chaha hai ab woh kisi aur ke saath kyu kar raha hai shadi.”

Arya caressed her back and let Jannat vent out everything, without any interruption.

“Wo ladki pe uska dil aa gaya hai. Woh Sultan banne ke liye ussey shadi nahi kar raha par usey mai kabhi kyu n..nahi dikhayi di?”

“Wo ladki achi hai par mujhe ek aankh nahi bhaa rahi. Meri hi mohabbat kyu adhoori rahe? Woh mujhse aise baat bhi karta hai ye soche bina ke mujhe takleef hogi pa..par phir bhi mere feelings Altan ke liye kabhi kam nahi hue.”

Jannat tightened her hold on Arya and she choked, “Mujhe Altan chahiye, Arya. Please..”

•♡•

Mahoor groaned in her sleep and turned to the other side of the bed.

She covered her ear with the pillow and whimpered in her slumber, hearing a baby's cry interrupt her peaceful sleep.

Mahoor patted Seyran's back under the blanket and said drowsily, “Zaroon, ro raha hai. Uth ke zara sula de, Isha aani ghode, bail, sab bech ke so rahe honge.”

Seyran clicked her tongue in annoyance and pushed Mahoor, “Tera turn hai tu jaa.”

“Tu chali jaa yaar aur iska muh bandh kara de. Itna kyu ro raha hai?”

Seyran didn't answer as she fell into a coma of peace.

The wailing of the baby grew louder, jolting Mahoor up from the sleep as well as Seyran.

Mahoor took her glasses from the nightstand so did Seyran.

Mahoor looked at the walls of the room and blinked her eyes to get rid of the drowsiness.

Her brows furrowed, “Yaar, hum toh Pakistan mein hai. Agar Zaroon India mein ro raha hai toh humein yaha tak kaise sunai de raha hai?”

Seyran slapped Mahoor's arms and shook her little to come out of the sleep.

“Paglait! Neend se nikal. Koi bacha ro raha hai bahar. Dekhte hai chalo varna possible nahi kuch lamho ki neend bhi mile bhaag ne se pehle.”

Mahoor nodded and got up from the bed with Seyran.

They both wrapped themselves in the shawl as the weather was freezing their limbs.

Seyran held Mahoor's arm as they descended the stairs.

Mahoor's foot ceased on a stair as she rested her head on the railing, sleeping.

Seyran pulled her back, “Ohho, Mahoor! Kya hogaya hai? Nashe kiye the kya sone se pehle jo itni neend mein ho?”

“Yaar chaar ghante bazaar mein Mirza nashe hi kara raha tha. Kabhi ek stall pe toh kabhi dusre stall pe.”

As they climbed off the stairs the cries grew louder, making them concerned.

They both paused at the end of the staircase and Mahoor's brow furrowed.

There was Altan holding a crying baby in the air.

“Chup hoja!”

He shook the baby a little, “Chup hoja!”

“Kyu ro raha hai? Bol toh sahi.”

Mahoor gawked at the audacity of him asking the baby to talk.

She groggily walked towards Altan whose head snapped in her direction after hearing the footsteps.

Mahoor placed her hands on her waist, “Koi aise bacche ko chup karta hai?”

Altan looked at the wailing baby who was still in his hands but in the air.

“Pata nahi?”

Mahoor squinted her eyes and extended her hands, “Idhar dein, usey.”

He gladly gave the baby to Mahoor who immediately placed the infant on her chest and patted the little one's back softly.

Altan let out a sigh of contentment as he didn't have to take care of the baby as he saw in India how good Mahoor was with children.

The baby's wail faded a little and Arya came rushing to them with a bottle of milk.

He saw the baby in Mahoor's hand and gave the bottle to her.

Seyran came forward and dropped some milk on her hand to check if it was warm enough to feed the infant.

Seyran latched the bottle's nipple to the baby's mouth and at an instant the little one's crying died down.

Mahoor glared at Altan,“Gore gunday! Aise bacche ko hawa mein pakad ke chup karne ko kaun kehta hai? Woh kafi nahi tha tou aap isey jawab kehne ko bol rahe ho jo mushkil se saath-aath mahine ka hai?”

Arya slapped his fist on his mouth, muffling his horrendous laugh.

Altan's face neutralized, “Tum mujhe gora gunda keh rahi ho?”

“Aur nahi toh kya! Neend kharab kar di humari.”

Arya let out a snigger and Altan jabbed his elbow in his side which only pushed him more to laugh.

“Hum isey hamare paas sula lete hai varna pata chala aap isey hawa mein karke keh rahe hai, soja soja.”

Altan looked down at the floor and nodded.

The man didn't know how to handle babies or let alone hold them as when he was nine years old he was taken to the basement for his training to become Sultan and even when he grew up, he never had any interaction with infants which were the reason for him to be so clueless about how to handle a baby.

Mahoor and Seyran walked towards the staircase and they climbed up one.

However, Mahoor halted as a realization dawned upon her.

Turning around, she stepped down and strode swiftly, making sure that the baby was fine.

She stood in front of Altan and her nose flared in anger

Mahoor's jaw ticked and she gritted her teeth, firing her question.

“Yeh aap ki aulad hai?”

•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•

Team Mahoor or Team Jannat?

Also, Altan ki aulad aa gayi.. kya kya raaz chupe hai, kise khabar ab iski *laughs evilly*

Tata, see you all soon!