Kissa

The Fight Moved From Court To Home

KISSA

Chapter 18: "The Fight Moved From Court To Home"

The war in court was over.

The war at home had just begun.

Truth and lies stood face to face.

Loss was on both sides. Thinking that, I fell asleep.

Noor’s voice woke me in the morning.

"Come down for breakfast," she said.

Hunger was dead. But going down was necessary.

"You go," I told Noor. "I’ll freshen up and come."

After freshening up I went down too.

Dad, Mom, Aunty, Uncle, Ali, Noor and Haris were all at the table.

I pulled the chair next to Noor and sat down.

Uncle broke the silence, smiling.

"After twenty years there’s a fair in the village. Why don’t we all go to celebrate Ali winning the case?"

"That’s a great idea," Dad said. "Masud, take everyone to see the fair."

"But I can’t go," Dad said. "I have urgent emails to reply to. And anyway we’re heading back to the city tomorrow."

Hearing that gave me a jolt.

The day to leave had come. I didn’t even realize how the days passed.

The moment "fair" was mentioned, Haris’s eyes lit up.

Like he had already made a plan in his mind.

Noor was very happy. Mom and Aunty’s faces lit up too.

Ali looked at me. I nodded silently and said without sound: "You come too."

Ali stayed quiet. But his smile said everything.

We all started getting ready for the fair. Haris had already left home.

A while later we headed toward the fair.

The closer the fair got, the more the crowd grew.

But instead of happiness, fear was filling my heart.

Ali parked the car on the right side of the main gate.

The fair was packed with people.

Somewhere a cyclist was doing stunts. Somewhere a clown was making kids laugh. Colorful stalls were set up. Stalls for bangles to everything.

Noor and I walked toward the bangle stall.

We started looking at bangles.

A few steps away, noise suddenly started.

At first we ignored it.

But the noise kept growing.

When I moved a little closer I saw Ali and the landlord’s son fighting. Haris was standing there too.

By the time we reached, Ali had already taught the landlord’s son a lesson.

Blood was flowing from his nose and mouth.

Two more men moved forward to attack Ali. But Ali did the same to them that he did to the landlord’s son.

Haris stepped two steps forward and stared at Ali.

Ali told him: "I don’t want to raise my hand on you."

But Haris didn’t listen. He started moving toward Ali.

Some people grabbed both of them and tried to separate them.

But neither of them was under control.

Security came and controlled both. Haris was shouting and threatening Ali loudly.

And today I saw Ali angry for the first time.

Noor turned to stone from fear.

And my heart was beating fast too.

My eyes met Ali’s. Ali signaled with his eyes: "I’m here."

---

The fair’s noise felt like a storm in my ears. But the real storm was standing ten steps away.

Ali’s shirt was a little torn at the shoulder.

His fists were red. Not from blood. From control. He had hit, but not lost himself.

The landlord’s son sat on the ground holding his nose. Blood was dripping between his fingers. His two men sat nearby groaning, holding their stomachs and jaws.

And Haris... Haris looked like a different animal today. His eyes weren’t eyes. They were red embers.

Security had both Ali and Haris locked in their arms. Still Haris writhed like a snake in their grip.

"This isn’t over, Ali!" Haris.

"You think you became a hero by winning one case?

I’ll drag your name through the dust of this village."

His voice was so loud the fair stopped. The clown went quiet. The cyclist forgot his stunt.

Ali looked at him. Completely calm. Like still lake water.

"Haris," Ali said. Voice low, but every word cut through the noise.

"I don’t want to fight you.

But if you make the mistake of raising your hand, you’ll get a strong reply.

I’m only defending myself."

"Defending?" Haris laughed. A bitter, broken laugh. "You think you’re defending someone? You’re destroying this family. You turned everyone against me. Made everyone clap for you."

"No," Ali said. "Everyone clapped for justice. Not for me. The day you choose justice over pride, they’ll clap for you too."

That sentence hit Haris harder than any punch. His face clenched with anger.

He lunged forward again. Guards pulled him back. His shoulder hit a guard’s chest.

"Let me go!" Haris yelled. I’ll shake your entire defense system.

Ali didn’t step back. He stood there. His eyes fixed on Haris. No fear, no anger. Only regret.

That regret burned Haris more than fire.

I froze there. Noor had squeezed my arm so hard her nails were digging into my skin.

"Do something, Kissa," Noor whispered. Voice shaking. "They’ll kill each other."

I couldn’t speak. My throat was dry. Heart was beating so fast it felt like it would tear my chest open.

What could I do, brother on one side and childhood friend who was on the right on the other.

Ali’s gaze met mine again. For a moment the whole fair disappeared. Only his eyes remained.

And those eyes said three words without sound: "I’ll fix everything."

I understood. He wasn’t just saying he’d fix everything. He was saying he’d protect the truth, even if the whole world stood against him.

The big security guard stepped forward. Thick mustache, stern face. He’d seen fights at this fair for twenty years.

"Enough!" he roared. Voice heavy. "This is a village fair, not a battlefield. Both of you stop now, or I’ll take you to the police station."

Haris turned to him, breathing hard. Sweat was running down his temple.

"Police station? Do you know who I am? If I want I can call every police station in your district here right now."

The chief guard hesitated a bit. He stared at Haris but couldn’t say anything.

Finally Ali moved. He didn’t go toward Haris. He went toward the landlord’s son who was still sitting on the ground.

Ali held out his hand to lift him.

The landlord’s son looked up, surprised. His face had mud and blood on it. He expected insults and a kick.

He was offered a hand. Not to hit. To lift.

He jerked his hand away and tried to stand himself, stumbling.

Ali looked at the landlord’s son and the three men lying on the ground.

"I’m not your enemy," Ali said. "Your enemy is your pride. It will wound you again and again in front of people. Leave now. Don’t lose anything more than blood."

There was a moment of silence. Only the distant music of a stall and people’s anxious breathing could be heard.

Then the landlord’s son spat on the ground.

"This isn’t over," he muttered. "You’ll regret raising your hand on me."

Ali didn’t reply. He just looked at him. That look said: "I’ve heard this many times before. In court. From your father. And the result is in front of you."

Two guards picked up the landlord’s son and his men. They walked away limping, heads down. The crowd made way for them, but didn’t give them respect.

Haris kept watching them go. Fists still clenched. Chest still beating fast.

The chief guard looked at Ali. "You too. Control your anger, son. Your hands are strong. Use them to build, not to break."

Ali nodded once. "I agree, Uncle. I wish I never had to use them. But when someone tries to crush the weak, strong hands have to answer."

The guard looked at him for a moment.

And walked away from there.

The crowd slowly started moving again. Music started again. The clown tried to joke, but no one laughed. The taste of the fight was still in the air.

Haris didn’t move. He stood there breathing like a bull. His eyes fixed on Ali.

Before leaving Ali turned to him once more.

"Haris, the court gave its verdict. The fair will end tonight. But this fight you’re carrying in your chest... it will eat you from inside if you don’t throw it away. Come home. Let’s talk like brothers, not enemies."

I’m not against you, I’m only with the truth.

Haris’s jaw tightened. For half a second I thought he’d end this fight. I thought a c***k appeared in the wall of his anger.

But within moments the wall closed again.

Haris laughed again, but this time there was pain in his laugh. Real pain.

"Then enjoy your truth, Ali. Because when I’m done, you won’t have anything left except that truth. And truth will steal both your day’s peace and night’s sleep from you."

He turned and disappeared through the crowd between colorful stalls.

Ali stood there watching him go for a moment. There was both anger and patience on his face.

I felt someone touch my hand. It was Noor. Her palm was cold and wet with sweat.

"Kissa," she whispered. "What just happened?"

I couldn’t answer. How could I explain that a family had broken in front of a bangle stall?

To be continued....