Kissa

"Order Order"

KISSA

Chapter 17: "Order Order"

The dining table was so silent that even a dropped fork would echo. Everyone was quiet. Only spoons against plates filled the room. Dad's forehead was creased with worry.

Haris kept avoiding eye contact. Ali stared at his food as if the verdict was written on his plate. I just looked at the darkness outside the window.

Dad placed his water glass down. Thud. The whole table shook.

His heavy voice broke the wall of silence:

"Ali son, what happened with the case? Is the hearing tomorrow?"

Ali lifted his head. His voice was grave:

"Uncle, tomorrow is not just the hearing. Tomorrow is the day of judgment. Either truth or lies will go into the grave."

Dad looked at all of us with heavy eyes.

"Then we will all go to court, son. We will see the verdict of right and wrong with our own eyes."

As soon as Dad finished, we all said together:

"Yes, we will all come too."

With my words, Haris's face turned to stone. His jaw tightened.

Because Dad still did not know that Haris was also a party to this case.

Haris forced the words out of his throat, laced with poison:

"What is the need, Dad? You know how this legal system works here, don't you? The decisions are written in advance."

Dad set his spoon on the table. He fixed his eyes on Haris.

"That is exactly the system we are going to see, son. Whether it is blind or whether it can still open its eyes for a farmer."

Haris's anger got stuck in his throat. He picked up the water glass and finished it in one breath. He said nothing. He just placed the glass on the table so hard that it cracked.

Noor pressed my foot under the table. When I looked at her, she winked. As if to say: "Congratulations Kissa. From tomorrow you won't have to sneak to court. Tomorrow we will go with honor, all together."

I almost smiled. Noor was probably happy that she would not have to keep watch in front of Mother anymore. She would not have to lie that "Kissa is sick."

I thought to myself: "Noor, do not celebrate too soon. The war does not end in court. The war begins when a defeated man rises to save his pride."

Now we just had to wait for tomorrow morning. The night passed like a prisoner counting days. Every tick of the clock became a heartbeat.

Morning came. When the sun rose, it felt as if even the light was trembling.

We all had breakfast together. But no one broke the bread. The tea cups went cold. All our minds were sitting on the wooden benches of the courtroom.

Then we set out. Ali's car was in front and Dad's car was behind.

The courtroom was full again that morning. The air was so heavy that breathing was hard. It was the silence before a storm. A silence deeper than a grave.

All eyes were on the judge's empty chair. Every breath was held. If anyone coughed, people stared at them.

The door opened. The bailiff struck his staff on the floor.

The judge entered. His black robe flowed behind him. His face was like stone. No mercy, no sympathy. Only law.

His voice rang through the room. Every word struck the heart like a hammer:

"Order! Order! The court announces its verdict."

We were sitting in the last row. But Dad and Uncle were in the front rows. Their backs were straight, but their shoulders were trembling.

Ali stood straight. File closed. Eyes fixed only on the judge. There was no pride on his face, no fear. Only conviction.

On the other side, the Landlord was sitting. Jaws clenched. Fingers drumming on the table like a piano. There was the arrogance in his eyes that comes before defeat.

And Haris... Haris was absent. He stood in the shadow of a wall behind. As if he did not have the courage to watch his own defeat.

In the front sat that farmer... His trousers still had mud on them. His hands were trembling. There was no hope in his eyes. Only the habit of defeat. Years of defeat had taught him that land belongs to the rich, and the poor only till it.

The judge opened the file. The rustling of papers created silence in the entire hall.

His voice fell like lightning:

"The court has reviewed all evidence. The forged stamp paper. The fabricated witness. And this boarding pass... which proves that the witness had been out of the country for the past twelve years."

The judge paused for a moment. Then he delivered the verdict:

"On this basis, the court declares all evidence of the other party false. All their claims are rejected."

One second... a deathly silence fell over the whole hall.

Then the judge spoke the next sentence. The sentence that had been awaited for years:

"The disputed land... will remain with its rightful owner. Farmer, son of Allah Ditta."

One second... nothing happened.

Then a sob escaped the Farmer's throat. It was not a sound. It was a scream from within. That man... who had been broken for years, who died every day... he fell to his knees on the floor.

His forehead hit the cold floor. His muddy hands covered his face.

And then he wept. Not like a man. Like an innocent child.

"The land is saved... my land is saved... Thank you, God..."

His cry held years of helplessness, humiliation, and hunger.

Ali went to him immediately. He placed a hand on the Farmer's shoulder. He lifted him from the floor.

"Stand up, Uncle. Lift your head. Today the soil has kissed your forehead. The land is saved, now we must save your honor too. Keep your head high."

The Farmer looked at Ali with tear-filled eyes. He held Ali's hands. He kissed them with his cracked lips.

"Son... you saved my bread. You saved the fate of my children. You did not make me the owner of soil... you made me a human being."

The judge struck the gavel.

"Case dismissed."

The sound of wood dug the grave of the Landlord's arrogance.

The Landlord slowly stood up. The chair screeched so loudly as it moved back that it echoed. His face was not red with anger... it was red with shame.

He glanced at Ali. For one second their eyes met. The Landlord's lips moved. Maybe it was a curse, maybe a threat. But no sound came out.

Because a defeated lion does not roar... it only stares.

Then he picked up his briefcase. Without speaking to anyone, he walked out. He said nothing. He made no threat.

Only the sound of his footsteps remained. That sound was of defeat. That sound was saying: "Today the law was not blind. It opened its eyes for a farmer."

The courtroom slowly emptied. People were whispering:

"See? Ali did it."

"Today truth did not shout. It just stood firm... and lies collapsed on their own."

"They say it right... a storm uproots trees, not roots."

We were all happy. Dad's eyes were wet. He stepped forward and hugged Ali.

"Son, today you upheld the dignity of law. You brought the book of law to life."

Ali lowered his head. He only said:

"Uncle, I did nothing. Truth was standing on its own. I only became its shadow."

Then we drove back home. All the way Dad kept praising Ali.

Back home, I went straight to my room. My chest was still pounding. I opened the window and took a deep breath.

Only a short while had passed when Noor burst into the room. Her face was pale. She was out of breath.

She gasped:

"Kissa... Haris is back. And he... he is very angry. His face is not worth seeing. His eyes are red. His veins are bulging."

Noor grabbed my arm and said:

"He is telling Ali... 'This war is not over, Ali. This was only the first round.'"

My heart skipped a beat. I looked down from the window.

In the courtyard below, Haris was standing. Back straight. Fists clenched. Ali stood in front of him. Fire was burning in the air between them.

I quickly stepped back from the window.

Suddenly a door slammed shut downstairs with such force that the glass shook.

Noor squeezed my arm:

"Kissa... what will happen now? The verdict has come, hasn't it?"

I gripped the window frame. Only one thought echoed in my mind:

"The court's verdict has come... but now the war at home will begin."

Darkness was deepening outside. And inside... a new storm was being born.

To be continued....

Will Haris accept his defeat?

Will Ali win the war at home too?

And Kissa... will she save her roots in this storm?

Find out in the next chapter.