His Beloved

"Mujhe shuru se aurat zaat se nafrat thi, kyu ke Jo Meri maa ne Mera baap ke sath Kiya wo Mai kabhi nahi bhula sakta." He stood there his eyes drowning in bitterness for his mother, gazing down at the busy streets of his town, Wayazo. (From the start I hated the whole womankind, because what my mother did to my father, that I can never forget, ever) "Mujhe lagta tha aurat zaat ki fitrat mai dhoka hai." He spat, his hands in his pockets, Still not looking back, if she was still there, listening to him. (I think it's in a woman's nature to betray) "Aapki maa un kuch aurto Mai se hogi jinko aurat hone ka matlab nahi malum hoga." She couldn't help but contradict. It didn't sit well with her, how he was accusing every women out there, just because of his mother. ( Your mother would been one of those, who didn't understand, what it means being a woman) There must be a reason behind that as well, why would a mother leave her home behind? He chuckled bitterly, a malicious smile on his face. He thought it was funny! "Wo sab to mujhe maloom nahi, magar itna zarur janta hu, ke tum wo pehli larki ho jise dekh ke mujhe yeh ehsas hua ke shayad mera khayal ghalat hai." He slightly c****d his head to the side, as if happy on his new discovery. (I don't know about that, but one thing I know for sure is that you're the first woman whose mere sight made me reconsider my opinion about women) When she didn't say anything, he continued. "Tum wo pehli aurat ho, Jise dekh ker mujhe laga ke Mai aurat zaat per ek bohat bara dhabba laga raha hu." (It made me think that maybe I am wrong. That maybe I am staining the whole womankind with my opinions) "Tumhe maloom hai Haya, tumhara naam tumhari shaksiyat pe bohat jajta hai." This time he had a genuine smile on his face, as he said this directly looking into her doe like eyes. ( You know what Haya? Your name suits your personality perfectly) "Tumhari khubsurti ke ilawa mujhe tumhari Haya wo pehli cheez hai jo mujhe tumhari taraf mutasir Kerti hai or mere dil ko tumhari taraf mayal Kerti hai." He looked down, smiling to himself. (Besides your beauty, your modesty is what draws me, and converges my heart towards you) He took out his hands from his pockets, as he straightened his crinkled free suit shirt. Taking his seat on his chair behind the desk, he looked slyly at her stilled form, digesting whatever he just confessed. She looked deep in thoughts, her eyes, set on nothing in particular. He knocked his knuckles on the desk in front, running out of patience, making her snap out of her reverie. She cleared her throat, as she looked down embarrassed. After a pause, he leaned over his desk, his muscles popping out in reflex. "mujhse shadi kerlo." (Marry me!) Haya looked up at him in utter disbelief. She didn't expect him to be so down right blunt. "Nahi." She shook her head, still digesting the fact that he just proposed to her. (No!) She would rather die then marry a bloody manipulative man like him. Daniyal sighed, as he stood up from his chair, making his way to where she sat in front of his table. He shifted his weight to the desk behind him, before pinning her with his dark piercing gaze. He couldn't digest the straight up rejection. It was a blow to his ego, which didn't sit well with him. Even though, he didn't expect her to say yes right away, but she could've asked for sometime. Shaking his head, he looked at the glass window, as he spoke with no emotions. "I will be coming to your home to ask for your hand in marriage. Accept it silently, or you won't imagine the things I will do to you if you reject!." His tone was so deep and rough, making her to shudder at her place.