Riwayat- Pt 3

*****

Zaahira groaned in frustration when even after many hours she wasn't able to sight someone from the group. Her legs ached, her stomach growled, while her eyes stung with upcoming tears. Gritting her teeth, she removed another one of the large twigs from her way but yelped when her foot slipped on the ground.

Before she could fall face first on the muddy surface, she instantly brought her hands forward to gain the support of the relatively strong twig dipped in the same mud. Huffing and puffing a few times, she finally got back safely on her feet.

Her face resembled the rage in her as she kept walking mindlessly in the vast land of trees. Sensing something itchy on her cheek, she raised her hand to wipe it off but instead she cursed when the mud from her hands got stuck to her skin instead.

"Allah, yeh kya musibat hai?"

She cried amongst the silence. She had dug into her bag to find her phone and behold! It was clear that the day was against her since she remembered then that her phone was thrown leisurely on her bed back in the hotel room.

As she kept walking, tears of joy almost fell from her eyes when she heard the sounds of chatter and goats. Following the small sounds that little by little grew in octave as she neared them, Zaahira squealed in delight when she found the main road.

"Alhumduillah! Mujhe toh laga aaj yaha se bahar nikal hi nahi paungi."

Her words dripped with gratitude and she rubbed her palms together. Her whole body ached like nothing after venturing in the woods for more than 2 and a half hours and all she needed now was a good sleep and food.

She looked to her side in order to find some help but bit back a scream of surprise when she found a man standing in all his glory in front of her. Taking a few steps back, she took in deep breaths to calm her racing heart and narrowed her eyes at the man who looked somewhat... amused?

"Oh bhai, aise kya dekh rahe ho? Kabhi ladki nahi dekhi?"

Zaahira snapped rudely at the stranger who blinked twice. The flowers in his hands were what caught her attention next and she was about to reprimand him for that too but gulped down her words when she saw that they were uprooted along with their roots.

"Ladkiya toh dekhi hai lekin shaam ke waqt aisi halat mein kabhi nahi."

The sass that coated his words generously made Zaahira blush in mortification. Even though she knew that she wasn't looking least bit presentable, the audacity of the man had her fuming.

"Oh janab, zyada hoshyar banne ki zarurat nahi hai. Ladki hu, thodi toh tameez se baat karo."

She knew that was a low blow- an extremely low blow but she had nothing else to say. The man in question raised an eyebrow in return. His eyes gleamed with mischief as he hummed at her words.

"Chaliye phir, baat karne ki zarurat hi nahi padegi agar main yaha rahu hi nahi. Aap apna rasta naap le aur main apna. Allah fiz."

He raised his right hand to give her a wave and turned around to walk away with casual steps. For some reason, being alone now raised Zaahira's alarms and before she knew what she was doing, the words had already left her lips in haste.

"Nahi nahi. Ladki hu na, akeli bhi hu aur shaam bhi ho gayi hai. Please koi safe ride dila de. Uske baad chale jaana."

What the-

Even her conscience had no idea why she was playing the 'main ladki hu' card. All she knew was she wanted to reach her temporary aboard safe and sound.

"Madam, main bhi aadmi hu. Itni jaldi kisi par bhi bharosa nahi karna chahiye."

He shook his head as though teaching or more like reprimanding a kid. Although Zaahira knew that his words were more than true, she couldn't help but let her sixth sense guide her. The one that was expert in differentiating between the trustworthy and the deceiving- mostly of course.

"Pata hai lekin aapne ab tak koi harkat nahi ki, isliye aapko mera bharosa paane ka mauka de rahi hu."

She nodded her head towards the end as if delivering a vital piece of information and the man in front of couldn't be more amused.

"Mauke ke liye shukriya mohtarma, lekin is gaon mein aise mauko ko hawa nahi di jaati. Aurat zaat hai, kisi na-mehram ke saath dikhengi toh yeh log aapke kaan kacha chaba jayenge."

There was an underlying warning in his tone. The mirth in his eyes was replaced with sheer seriousness and Zaahira didn't know if she should cry in frustration or smack some sense in these gaon wale and the man ahead of her.

"Lekin main is gaon ki hu bhi nahi. Thode dino ke liye aayi hu aur-"

She stopped mid-sentence when the sound of the maghrib azan rang through the place. Her stiff shoulders relaxed considerably but only for a second before she realised her state and the absence of something to cover her head.

"Ya Allah! Kya karu ab?"

She mumbled to herself while chewing her bottom lip. Her eyes closed in hopes of something magically appearing over her head even though she knew it was stupid.

The sound of a throat being cleared made her look at the man who was now looking anywhere but at her. Squinting her brows in confusion, she looked at his hand and almost gaped when she realised that he was offering his shawl to her.

If it was any other day, Zaahira would have contemplated the choice but not today. She quickly took hold of the material and draped it over her head without any delay. Once the material had covered her form, she sighed in relief.

They stood in silence for a few minutes, until the azan was over and amidst the silence, Zaahira got the smell of the rich scent of bakhur from the shawl- raw and strong. Like those Arabian attars that make one dizzy in a good way.

After the azan was done, the two whispered the dua to be said under their breaths. Zaahira could feel relief flooding in every part of her body and half of the credit might go to the soft material that was swallowing her 5'4 form.

Reluctantly, she started unwrapping the shawl from herself but a small cough diverted her attention back to the man.

"Abhi pehne raho use. Andhera hone wale hai aur ladki aise raat mein akele achi nahi lagti, logo ko bolne ke bahane mil jaate hai. Chalo ab, koi taxi dhundte hai tumhare liye."

He ushered her with his hands to start walking. Zaahira knew by the flutter in her heart that a teeny weeny bit of admiration had started building in her heart for the man who decided to walk ahead of her, giving her the privacy she didn't ask.

Though he did keep turning from time to time to check on her, Zaahira had to mentally scold herself to stop her train of fantasies from leaving its station.

"Aapka naam kya hai?"

She finally asked the question she should have in the beginning. Her fingers unconsciously twisted the ends of the hickory shawl gently as she waited for a response.

"Dilawar Kazim naam hai humara, aur aapka?"

Dilawar.

She tested the name on her tongue silently. It was a traditional one and perfect for someone like him due-

Zaahira quickly shook her head. She could feel her teenage hormones that had been kept buried for ages rising on the surface- dangerously close to the surface.

"Zaahira Malik."

In response to her, Dilawar gave her a small smile over his shoulder along with an acknowledging nod.

The two walked in silence for another 10 or 15 minutes before Dilawar looked at the setting sun and ran a hand through his hair. His guilty eyes looked at Zaahira who tilted her head to the side, not knowing the reason behind it.

"Namaz padne ka waqt nikla ja raha hai aur-"

Zaahira stopped him from saying anything else. A smile tugged at her lips at his personality and she waved a dismissing hand in the air.

"Toh ja kar padle na phir. Hum intezar kar lenge."

"Lekin aapko akele,"

His eyes showed the clear conflict that waged within him and Zaahira bit her tongue from swooning out loud. She could feel heat rising along the base of her neck for no reason while her heart decided to practice somersaults without her permission.

"Masjid jaa rahe hai?"

He nodded.

"Theek hai phir. Hum masjid se thodi duri par aapka intezaar kar lenge, kahi side mein. Aap aaram se namaz padh kar aaiyega."

She assured him with a smile. Dilawar tried not to stare at her expression for too long. The constant words 'lower your gaze' rang in his mind like a bullet train and he did just that.

Maybe after praying the unknown emotions within him would subside.

With that thought, he nodded his head in determination and guided her to the mosque nearby. Every man- or at least majority of them opted to pray in jamah rather than alone especially if they had the chance, so it wasn't a surprise for him when he found the mosque being flooded with men.

"Aap-"

He stopped himself from asking whether she'd like a place for herself. The deeni part in him urged to offer her a place where she was far from prying eyes but the reasonable one said that she might not like it.

But why wouldn't she?

Thinking for a good few minutes, he finally grumbled under his breath and questioned her.

"Aap ko namaz padne ke liye jagah chahiye toh main yaha pe kise se baat kar leta hu."

Zaahira almost slumped down on the ground with a dreamy haze. Her eyes refused to blink as she stared at the man while her heart was busy doing tango with her brain, successfully draining down all the rational thoughts she had stored.

"Aise?"

She pointed at herself and Dilawar bit back a chuckle to not offend her. Though the cough that he let out to hide his laugh made her narrow her eyes at him. Zaahira knew she wasn't in the best condition and the man in front of her found her state entertaining.

Dilawar gave her an apologetic look and his gaze fell behind her. Just by the street where the mosque was located, there were a few stalls too.

Mainly tea and deep fried snacks.

"Oh chacha!"

Dilawar called out to the elder man who was locking down his cart.

Zaahira stared cluelessly at him as he walked up to the man to converse with him in a hushed tone. The old man's gaze fell on her a few times and she controlled herself from fumbling in nervousness on her steps.

"Zaahira, yaha aao!"

His words did nothing to relieve her but she gulped down the anxiety and walked up to where the two stood.

"Assalamu alaikum."

She greeted the old man politely who offered her a wide smile and replied with a polite salam.

"Inka ghar yaha baju mein hi hai. Maine inse baat kar li hai, aap inke ghar ja kar namaz padh le. Aise mujhe pata bhi rahega ki aap sahi selamat hai aur main bina kisi jaldi ke apni namaz bhi padhlunga."

Zaahira was shocked to say the least.

Her expression was that of a deer caught in headlights- a little pale, alarmed and completely clueless about what to do.

"Y-yeh- i-iski zaroorat nahi hai, Kha ma kha, unhe tang kar rahe hai-"

"Nahi bete, koi pareshaani nahi hogi hume. Balki uski jagah, humari bibi toh aapko dekh kar bahot khush hogi."

The happiness and hope in the old man's tone comforted Zaahira a little. His eyes looked so at peace and something about them made her nod her head to the request.

Dilawar was quick to hug the old man in gratitude and started making way towards the mosque. Zaahira was asked to follow the elderly and as she did so, as if in reflex, to calm her nerves, she turned around to look at the man who was walking through the sea of men to surrender to his Lord.

A smile tugged at her lips and unconsciously, she tightened her hold on the shawl, feeling as safe as ever and at ease.

***********

Ahh!! I was fudging squealing while writing the whole thing!! Preferably one of the most interesting chapter written by me from my view point....

Anyways, can anybody please tell me how we are at the 15th roza already? It feels like days are slipping like sand from my hands or is it just me?!!

Ahh, yaar somebody please comment. I feel like there's a scarcity of comments in my stories and I have no idea why:')

***********