ruthless to knees

Fairy lights glowed against the courtyard walls, showing the effort put into this garden that Mr.Ali had meticulously cleaned since morning and asked the caterers for a decent number of chairs to be stacked for a small event that was about to start just before the sun set. After a deep breath of satisfaction, a tear glistened in his eyes, remembering that his daughter was about to make the biggest decision of her life. He looked at the humongous mountains of Islamabad, just behind the garden, giving a perfect appearance of elegance to the modest house that he had built over the years for the love of his life and after her untimely demise, he was left alone with Samaira the joy of his life, the sunshine of this house, he panicked and searched for Samaira to ask for her ruling of the arrangement he had done and soon found her in a corner of the house silently with her friends arranging thing,"you look just like mom my love," I told her, Samaira with a slight nod looked up at sky where even the clouds had gathered above her to give her comfort today, and said, "yes baba, she's right here to witness everything." the scent of fresh biryani and gulab jamuns filled my nostrils reminding me that the caterers have arrived, and I excused myself to go check with the placement of dishes leaving Samaira among women’s laughter that echoed as dholki beats in the background played kajra re, kajra re and little girls were dancing away in laughter. It was Samaira Ali’s engagement night, the first step into a life everyone around her thought was destined. Samaira had been dressed with care — her sea-green sharara glimmered under the lights, and her hands were heavy with intricate mehndi, still carrying the sharp, sweet scent of henna and a strong color that showed how much love she would get from her to be husband, her Kohl rimmed large almond-shaped eyes were dreaming tonight, making them darker, softer, and her lips, the most delicate lips that bore just the faintest shade of rose. She looked in the mirror just before she was called to be presented in front of an audience. She was every bit the blushing bride-to-be, but beneath her calm smile, her heart trembled with an unknowing fear. She missed her mother, yes, but there was something more than that, although she shrugged it away as wedding jitters. But when she looked at her engagement ring that she had just been given by her mother-in-law in the middle of the ceremony as it was the tradition that the groom was not allowed inside the female gathering, even though she had never personally met the groom it was all arranged by elders of the family which was the norm she shivered at the thought of the future, looking up she saw that now everybody had proceeded to dinner to which she stood up wanting to leave for her room to catch a breath. her aunt stopped her with a hand gesture, and whispered in her ear ordering to check the kitchen as she was attending the guests. Samaira in the midst of the chaos, was told to go down the floor and bring some plates as everybody else was busy at the time being, “Beta, neeche se plates laana zara, guests ke liye kuch kam lagrahi.” her aunt had instructed. Samaira nodded, grateful for an excuse to hurriedly step away. Balancing her heavy dupatta, she went downstairs, the bangles on her wrist clinking softly, as she faintly hummed a melody that she remembered from her childhood. She was surprised when she heard some loud whispers but ignored and focused on returning to the given task as she stacked a set of porcelain plates in her arms, humming slightly louder under her breath to steady herself she was just about to put her elbow by the wall while she walked. She realised that, suddenly, the voices had died down that were previously very much audible, to which she immediately stopped. But halfway up the staircase, she froze. Two men stood in the corridor, her neighbour and a stranger. No, not a stranger — someone who she hadn't noticed particularly before, but he carried himself like he owned the night. Broad-shouldered, dark-eyed, she had seen him earlier among the male guests when she perked through the tents to get a glimpse of the groom, but instead saw a man standing aloof, his gaze sharp, like he didn’t belong to their small mohalla. Now, that same man had his fist raised and the other hand grabbing the collar white knuckles, heaving chest, ready to strike the neighbor, Rauf chacha. His face was taut with fury, veins prominent, jaw clenched. “You talk too much,” his voice was a growl, low and dangerous. Then Rauf chacha spat blood. “This isn’t your mohalla. Stay out of our business.” And i soon realized where the whispers were coming from, the realization hit me like a boulder as Rauf chahcha was like a father to me, and he could never be wrong. Before he could take a swing at Rauf chacha, I moved forward to stop them but my sharara got caught up in my foot and the sound of plates clinking made him glance towards the unwanted audience. That’s when he saw me. I stood frozen on the stairs, arms full of plates that were very much imbalanced and about to fall of slipping from my mehndi clad hands because of excessive sweating, and the dupatta slipping slightly from my shoulder, making me too aware of that I was being indecent in front of a stranger. The strangers POV Her kohl-lined eyes, wide and frightened, locked onto mine like they were searching my soul. For the first time in years, I felt my fury falter. I had stared into the eyes of enemies, traitors, dying men — but never into eyes like these. They were pure, trembling, yet carrying a softness that threatened to shatter every wall I had built around me. I forgot the neighbor. I forgot the punch. I just stared. The neighbor took his chance. His hand pulling on my neck to free himself so that he could run and I lost my balance in those eyes that were growing bigger by the minute— straight into the direction of my unwanted audience. Rather than retreating back to her original position, she leaned forward, trying to stop me from falling. Wait, what ? Like she could hold me? It all happened so fast I could not comprehend to what happened and how we closed the distance so quick but the plates flew from her arms, shattering against marble. Porcelain shards cut across her hands as she tried to save herself from falling. The staircase echoed with the crash and my weight slammed into her, and we tumbled against the step. A sharp, earthy, smell struck my nose as soon as I crashed on to the large eyed girl and as a reflux my hands slid under her waist to lessen the impact from falling but soon I realised, clinging to her skin was a bad decision when for a split second, my face hovered above hers, and I noticed her eyes shut and her long slender nose, our breaths tangled. But soon I felt an impact to the ground and then her head struck the edge of the railing, and her body stumbled on the floor first. Numb Our legs entertwined, which made my legs falter so that he fell face forward on the girl, and she went limp beneath him. “Samaira!” A scream came from above. But she didn’t stir. Blood streaked her temple, her bangles were snapped, her unconscious form pinned under me. I saw a deep cut just above her collarbone. So Ishoved myself off her, scooped her into my arms as if she weighed nothing. The room erupted into chaos — her aunt gasping, her fiancé’s sister whispering, Rauf chacha rushing forward. “What have you done?” Ayesha cried. I didn’t answer and carried her out, ignoring the stares, ignoring the scandal. His shirt was smeared with her blood, the earthy scent returned to his nostrils, still clinging to him.