Untainted: The Purest

Chapter 6–His Absence

—Ahad's Mansion—

"Ahad my decision is final. Either you do something for every boy of the village or no one at all." Umeed said with confidence leaving him awestruck again.

"Okay Angel. Listen... I can effortlessly spend lacs of rupees on their fees, give them scholarships, transform one of my hotels to a hostel, buy a few buses for their travel but... I can't change their parents' mindsets. And what makes you think you can do that?" Ahad asked her.

Umeed went silent for a few minutes and said, "Could you spend a little more than you mentioned just now?" She asked unsure.

He smirked. "Off course."

"Okay then, how about we... convince them to hire some professional shepherds, farmers, potters, fishers etc. for the time period until their children complete their studies. And also include these courses as their optional subjects. So, they pass out learned as well as skillful. They neither lose themselves nor their father's inheritance nor their education and everyone is happy. What do you say?"

"I'm alright with everything." Ahad said impressed.

"And one more request." She asked looking down embarrassed. She had asked him too much.

"Just order." He said with the same smile.

"I want you to invest my twenty lacs too in this."

"Angel but-"

She placed a hand on her lips. "Please don't say No. I want to be a part of the good work." She made a pleading face.

He huffed. Why couldn't he say 'no' to her? "Fine. Within a few days, I'll put the plan into action. Your brother won't suffer neither would anyone else. Okay." He asked, caressing her cheek.

She nodded. "Aap meri saari nekiyon aur duaon ka ajar hai. (You are the reward of all my good deeds and prayers)" She said gratified and emotional.

"No, I'm not.” He said looking intensely into her eyes. “What if I am selfish? What if I am doing this for my own self?"

She didn't understand. "What?"

"Tell me Angel. What do I get in return?" He asked.

"I'm yours. Everything I own is yours. What else can I give you?" she asked looking down.

"What if there is something you can? Will you say no?"

"Then it is yours. I wouldn't deny it. But stop riddling and say it."

"Not now." He shook his head. "But swear on Allah that someday when I ask you something in return for all this you wouldn't deny, no matter how hard it is."

She was too happy to see anything behind her husband's love and affection. What utmost could he ask? And why would she say no? Umeed placed her hand on his and said, "Let Allah be my witness, I promise I will give you anything you ask for, ever."

•••

Two weeks passed to their marriage and Umeed had completely adjusted her life around his.

Ahad had become so dependent on her that sometimes he wondered how he even survived before her. He felt like a happy puppet in her hands, just going along the motions. Every morning, he was woken up by her, wore whatever dress she handed him, ate whatever she cooked, and placed his lunch in his bag and when he came back received him with the same warmth and affection.

She took only the breakfast responsibility in her hands saying she didn't want to forget cooking and let the chef be for lunch and dinner because she didn't want him to lose his job because of her. Seriously, who thinks so much about others?

Ahad was still the same rough and dominating when it came to loving her. Sometimes, she was too drained and weak by the morning to move a finger but it was all worth it. 'What else does he ask from me? Nothing. It is my duty to be the solace of my husband.' She reminded herself.

Abdul Ahad tried his best to keep his demons, his darkness away from Umeed, especially in the nights but he was helpless against it.

Many times he wondered how perfect his life would have been if he had not developed this… sεx addiction. But humans are not perfect. God always holds back one thing which becomes a reminder of the emptiness in our life. So that we understand our limitations and don’t worship ourselves as God.

•••

—Office—

Ahad was deep in thoughts. 'I'm losing my mind. This woman is making me crazy.' It was not like he hadn't been with women before but none of them ever had this intoxicating effect on him like she does. Here he was, sitting in his office, smiling like an i***t reminiscing the moments from the previous night. Never in his life did a woman's touch become a memory or go beyond his bed. Like he could feel her fragrance near him.

It's way more beautiful when it’s consensual. When you see your partner feeling the same happiness, same craving for you, the feeling is just out of the world.

Sometimes, he was overpowered with anger and hatred when he remembered what he was in the past and what he had become now. But at the end, he explained himself that how could he waste himself at the mercy of destiny? When you want something, you go and get it.

When time gave him options, to either live life a simple, middle class way, or sell his soul to the devil in exchange for all the luxuries of life, he chose the second one because of his instincts.

His instincts didn't allow him to live in the lower level of society. It's not like he didn't try to get everything the right way, but he failed, so he took it the wrong way.

There was a time when he had some humanity, morals and self esteem. Firstly, he felt guilt every day because of his deeds, but as the wheel of time moved on, the thick cover of blackness on his heart increased, his guilt decreased and joy of victory and comfort of luxuries made him deaf to the crying of his conscience.

The phone rang breaking his attention. "Yes?" He said.

"Sir Mumtaz Madam is on hold. She wants to talk." His personal secretary, Sasha said from the other end.

"Okay, transfer to her. And don’t keep her waiting next time. She doesn't need permission to get to me."

"What is it? Are you okay?" Ahad asked.

Mumtaz said something from the other side and Ahad's face lost its colour. "Hold on, I'll be right there." He picked his phone and other stuff and left.

As he was leaving, he ordered Sasha to reschedule all the meetings from today. He may be late.

•••

Umeed kept trying another pair of sandals trying to get used to it. One thing she did in her free time. She tried to walk in all the sandals kept in the cupboard, all the dark lipsticks on the dressing table and read as many books as possible. Her taste with books was quite weird. She preferred the stories of prophets, books on etiquettes, prophetic medicine and about pious ways of life. But after everything she did could not fill the void of his absence. And therefore despite knowing how harsh the nights were going to be, she desperately waited for him to come home every night.

•••

Umeed woke up to a sudden thud at the door. "Ahad!" She desperately walked to the door and opened it. To her disappointment, the head maid of the household, Hussaina Apa, a lady in her mid-forties was standing there. "Assalamualaikum Madam. I think you should have food." Umeed glanced at the wall clock and it stuck ten.

"Ahad is never so late. Hussaina Apa, Call his office please. And let me talk." She asked, rubbing her eyes.

Hussaina dialled his office but her face was tense like she knew the answer. The secretary received the call on the other side and the maid gave it to Umeed. "Hello. I'm Mrs. Abdul Ahad speaking. Has Ahad left? He comes by nine every day. Can I talk to him?"

"Mam he left at five, his regular timing. If you want to leave a message, I can give it." She said but Umeed mouthed a "no thanks" with a sigh and placed the receiver back.

Her mind couldn't process the lady's words. Was she even saying the truth? Every day he leaves office at 5. Then why does he come home at 9. Why?

'Four hours? Where do you go for four hours every day Ahad?'

•••

Umeed waited for him. She tried to explain herself, to calm down her rapid heartbeats but she couldn't. Her mother's words reverberated in her ears,

'Be there for him whenever and however he needs you... physically or emotionally. Because if you don't fulfill his needs, someone else will.

Remember men don't starve... they just go somewhere else and get it.

And that will be your fault.'

She shook her head to repulse the bad thoughts.

'Where did I go wrong?' She asked herself.

It may be something else, something about his work and not what she was thinking but he lied about it to her. Every time she asked him about being late, he said there was a lot of work at the office.

Why? She didn't want to doubt him. There is nothing worse than the act of doubt. Doubt separates people. It is a poison that disintegrates friendships and breaks up pleasant relations. It is a dagger that stabs, hurts and kills.

With those thoughts, she fell asleep in restlessness.

•••

Umeed's eyes somehow instinctively opened every morning right before Fajar. Her grandmother used to tell her that the Morning Prayer enhances the glow of the face. Ever since, she rose every morning and stood up to face Allah while others were taking beauty sleep. Her eyes scanned the room only to be disappointed yet again. He wasn't home still. He wasn't home all night.

Taking a quick shower and performing ablution, she stood on the prayer mat.

She shut those thoughts for a while as she started her namaz. Sajdah is the most beloved position to Allah. And she did it like Allah was standing right in front of her. Complete submission and nothing else. It was something that gave her happiness and she didn't do it as a duty, a compulsion.

After prayer, she raised her hands in supplication and asked, "Allah I know you have good plans for me even if I am not smart enough to understand them now. I have trusted you with my life and I know you will do what is best for me. Just help me be patient with your decisions and be accepting towaeds them even if they don't look appealing to me. Thank you for all your blessings and everything you have given me. Someone died last night but we didn't. Someone didn't wake up this morning but we did. Alhamdulillah for another chance to reform, to repent and remember you." Saying this she rubbed her palms on her face and read some Qur'an.

•••

After prayer, she felt so lighthearted and free from that burden of overthinking. When you leave everything on Allah, you have nothing to worry about. She quietly walked to the kitchen and made tea for herself. Silence prevailed.

She did everything to distract herself but it wasn't easy today. She was so used to his presence. She kept moving around the house with a book in her hand. She sat in the lawn, then in the living room, then his study and so on.

Finally, by evening she decided to call her parents. She took the piece of paper from her purse and dialled the number. It was the number of the shop on the outskirts of the village.

The call was received at the second ring. "Hello kon? (Who)." An old, wrinkly gruff voice answered.

"Kaka (Uncle) it's me, Umeed. Please call my mother from home or father from the field whoever is nearby. I have to talk to them." She asked politely.

Kaka replied in an affirmative and shouted for some boys to run to Umeed's house and call her mother in an ear-piercing voice. She placed the receiver back. They'll reach the shop in ten minutes. I'll call after that.

That's the only number she had. She didn't have a landline at her house. Nobody at their village did.

Soon enough, she called back and it was received by her father. "Umeed?" She closed her eyes and inhaled a deep breath. It was like coming back home. So soothing, so nostalgic. She was rewinding every moment spent with her father and feeling the sharp pain of parting from him all over again.

'Why? Why did daughters have to suffer such a cruel ritual? Who gave the society the right to declare that they love their fathers any less than sons do? Why do they have to make some other man's home and not their father's?'

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