《Harfan Maula》3.2 • Endings N Beginnings
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“I don't want to be a part of your world.” She spoke while standing beside him on the seashore.
“Will you be surprised if I say I knew your answer?” He asked curiously.
“I won't be, you know me more than I do.” She looked at him for a moment and then turned her face towards the flowing water.
“Zerah, I would have been happy if you stayed. But I know you won't. My world is too dark for you.”He was being honest with her and himself.
“Then why did you kill my husband and bring me here?” She asked the question pondering in her mind.
“To give you a life you deserved. I want you to be happy, even if I am not a part of your happiness.” Again, he was being honest.
“I am blank. I had thought I'll live the life of an abused wife till my end. But you came and here I am, standing in the open air once again.”
“Tell me the kind of life you imagined to have when you came to Turkey from Pakistan years back.”
Zerah took a few moments to think and then answered, “I wanted to get settled here, away from my mother and stepfather. I'd study, do side jobs, and live in a rented house in a decent locality with friendly neighbours. Then I'll start my practice in criminal psychology, find a gentleman boyfriend and get settled with him.”She smiled recalling the tiny dreams of her young self. She was surprised to see how much she had changed in all these years.
“It still can happen, you know. You can start your career here, and live in a decent locality. And maybe you find a gentleman for yourself.” He smiled while suggesting so.
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“It feels great to imagine this happening in real. But it seems hard to become a reality.”Three years of abuse had made her devoid of any hope to have a better life. She had started normalising the misery life threw at her.
“I have bought a flat for you in a safe locality. You can at least try to move on. To have a career, a boyfriend and a life full of happiness. At least, try.”
She looked at him, her eyes full of indescribable emotions. His belief in her, made her believe in herself.
“I will try, Ayaz.”She smiled with her eyes full of tears and hope.
He smiled back. Feeling content with his decision.
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A W e e k L a t e r
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Zerah was busy unpacking her stuff when the doorbell of her new residence rang to get her attention. She went to open the main door, wondering which neighbour came to visit her just after two hours after her arrival.
As the door opened, a young man with a bowl in his hand came into her view.
He was most probably of her age, he had a fair complexion, brown hair and beard and a megawatt smile plastered on his face.
“Merhaba!” He greeted her in an overexcited manner.
“Merhaba.” She greeted back while smiling in confusion.
“I know it's very indecent to ask for salt from a newly-arrived neighbour. But my deeply hungry stomach is at stake and my old neighbours have almost banned me from asking anything from them. So please lend me a few spoons of salt.”
His blabbering amused her. She nodded with a smile, taking the bowl from his hand.
She returned with the bowl filled with salt and handed it to the guy looking curiously around her flat.
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“Thank you! By the way, I am Burak. Burak Sarsalimaz.” He introduced himself.
“Zerah.” She replied, but his straightforward attitude for some weird reasons made her uneasy. As if he was getting inside her friend zone too early for her liking.
So she, to not let the conversation begin between them, immediately closed the door to his face. Leaving him all confused standing at her doorstep.
“What did I do now? I didn't even flirt with her.” With confusion dominating his thoughts, he entered his flat to prepare his meal.
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A couple of hours later, the doorbell rang again. When Zerah opened the main door, it was again Burak with his megawatt smile.
“Hi! Don't worry, I don't trouble new neighbours more often. I came to give you this.” He forwarded a container he was holding.
Zerah looked at the container, then at him. She didn't have the heart to refuse so she took it from him.
“Thanks.” And again shut the door at his face, making him frown.
Zerah put the container on the dining table. It was still warm so she decided to eat it immediately to not miss its goodness.
It was a traditional Turkish dish Mercimek Koftesi (Lentil Meatballs).
(Dal Ke Kofte, to be exact. 😋)
She took a bite of it. It was nothing tasty, just good enough to be eaten without throwing up. However, she still enjoyed eating it. Because after a very long time someone had cooked something for her.
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