Sadkey Tumhare. (For Your Sake)

ten

Aaina

While it was true that there were things in life that really mattered, it was also true that sometimes we had to get away from that reality and enter into another zone.

For me, that zone today was horse riding.

I had never really rode a horse before, I had attended parties at farm houses, I hate sad true I was of horse races why rich people gambled over who would win but I had never really sat on a horse.

Apparently, Ahad was going to change that today.

In the past three to four days, we had managed to build a friendship over a span of time.

I did not know what else to call it. Friendship seemed appropriate enough. He wasn't like an overprotective brother, and he was two different from my husband, he was a friend that I had made unexpectedly.

Since we had been watching movies late night for the past three days, we decided that we needed to do something else.

He had suggested horse riding.

So here we were, at the Prime Minister's personal farm.

I had texted Zaydaan twice in the past three days and received no response. I was too embarrassed to tell that to Ahad.

Every time he brought up his brother, I managed to change the conversation.

But it had hurt me.

It had felt like he had got what he wanted from me and now he did not give a damn.

He wanted to marry me, that happened. He wanted to keep me inside a big house, that happened. He wanted my body and even that happened.

On the other hand, My father was giving money to their party for the elections, in return..he was getting what he wanted, he had not even cared enough to call me in the past whole week, it hurt.

But I put aside all that hurt and focused on the beautiful horses in front of me.

Ahad took me towards each and every to horse, introducing me as if they could understand.

"I know people give them English names but I have named all of them and nobody gets to call them by any other name."

I nodded, impressed.

"This one's Chameli. Simply because it's the cheesiest name ever."

"This one is toofan. It's the most common horse name in Pakistan."

"And this beauty is bijli because she is so fast."

His eyes shone with a certain happiness and appreciation, clearly he loved horses.

"Now don't underestimate this white beauty, she is called Maina, she is my favourite."

"You love them."

"Ofcourse, I do. Horses are so much more understanding, they understand our emotions so well."

He looked at the white horse, smiling at it and rubbing his hand all across it's white skin. It seemed like he knew everything about these beings.

"You spend alot of time here?" I questioned, merely out of curiosity.

"Yes, mostly."

He nodded, gesturing a man to bring forth riding shoes and helmets.

"I have alot of parties at the farm, too. I'll throw you and bhai one as well. Once he's back tomorrow."

Yes, Zaydaan was coming back tomorrow. I was both nervous and excited for his return, but nervous for the most part.

After all, we hadn't talked a bit ever since he left.

"Yeah," I mumbled but Ahad didn't understand my glum tone.

"Finally, yes? Did you hear him speak at the conference?"

I didn't.

I couldn't bear to watch the television, it felt too weird for me. Seeing your own self, seeing the man who slept by your side, seeing the woman you had evening tea with, seeing all of them on the television screen, it felt too different. Not watching the television was working pretty well for me.

"No.." I answered. He looked at me with wide eyes.

"No? It was all around the house, you know that."

"I might have been sleeping, Ahad. I don't know." I tried to come up with an excuse.

He rolled his eyes.

"Ugh, want me to impersonate him?" Since I wanted to see his acting skills, I nodded.

"Okay,"

"So he's in this black suit, right? Eyes cold and icy, and he goes like,"

And then his demeanour changed. I realised that acting was not just his passion but he was good at it too.

His eyes turned indifferent, no tinge of playfulness or amusement in them, his face hardened as he started to speak.

"People often ask me, even journalists back home, they question me why I am so dedicated in my politics, why I do not sit at home and let my father do his job, why am I going on tours and why am I attending all these conferences, why am I trying to present an image with so much passion, especially when I am one of the most targeted men in my country."

I could barely register his words. What?

"Wait what? Targeted?" I asked him.

Ahad looked at me like I was stupid, like I was still living in a bubble of my own.

"Aaina, he's son of the Prime Minister, he's a foreign minister himself, he criticizes the ex governments without any fear, he has helped people of low class get their justice and made some real f*****g assholes his enemies, of course his life is at stake all the time."

He rambled on and on, angry that I had managed to break his character. I bit my lip, intimidated. 

"Even I'm at threat, and you too."

Great. So marriage got my life in risk too. Just great.

I gulped.

"Ahad, don't scare me." He groaned at my remark.

"Why do you think these men in uniforms and casual clothes follow me around all day? Are they my friends?"

Right, okay.

It's just protocol. People don't actually die just because they're at threat.

Benazir Bhutto did.

My subconscious reminded me but I pushed it away.

Besides, I was living in the Prime Minister House and we were all under massive security protection, nothing could actually happen.

"Ok, I get it. So, what did he say next?"

Ahad zoned back into Zaydaan, impersonating him almost perfectly.

"And I tell them, and today I am telling this to you, 'you do not let the fear of death come between what you believe is your mission in life' they made fun of my father, me, the way we handled things, today we are in government. Never give up on your dreams, on your goals."

Had Zaydaan really said such inspiring words? Were they just words or was he actually fearless? Was he really that brave to risk his life like that? Or was it just politics that I didn't understand yet?

You do not let the fear of death come between what you believe is your mission in life.

I was going to spend my whole night watching my husband's speeches and interviews, that much was clear.

"And-"

Before Ahad could go on, his phone started to ring and he excused himself, picking up the call.

He hadn't really gone far so I could hear him.

"Salam, bhai."

He greeted his brother. Wasn't he supposed to be on a flight right now?

"Jee Bhai, saath Hain Bhai, haan bhai-"

(Yes brother, she's with me, brother.)

His stutters and stammers caught my attention and I knew there was a mention of my name as well.

"Sorry, ofcourse. Yes,"

He ended the phone call and walked back to me.

"What's going on?"

"We have to go home." He announced.

I panicked.

"Okay, why?"

"Bhai's home. Come on,"

He informed next and my eyes widened.

What? He was home? But he had to come tomorrow?

I suddenly remembered the mess I had left on the dressing table, how the bed was still unmade and how I had thrown my clothes on the floor in a hurry.

Crap.

"Did he ask about me?"

"Yes and not very softly either. He's probably pissed at something."

That got me off guard. Zaydaan scared me, it was not a lie. Since he was much older, he obviously had a dominating personality, an aura about him that I couldn't understand.

I wasn't even twenty three yet while he had just turned thirty four. There was a massive age difference.

It didn't matter on most occasions but when it came to being scared, yes, I felt intimidated by him.

"Okay, okay." As we sat in the car and the driver turned it towards the route to home, I glanced at Ahad.

"He won't be pissed at me, right?" I asked, biting my lip.

His eyes stared at my outfit for a minute, before he shook his head.

Long white pants, black shirt and riding boots. I had dressed to ride a horse and instead, I had just seen them and we were on our way home.

"I don't think so." He mumbled but his voice sounded so unsure.

"Okay,"

Finally, in about twenty minutes, we reached home. I got out of the car once we entered the porch but Ahad didn't.

I frowned at him.

"Where are you going?" I enquired, eyes narrowed.

He gave me an apologetic look.

"Yeah, he's going to really bash me for leaving him mid tour so I'd much rather come back when you know, he's asleep."

"Ahad, come on." I tried to convince him but he shook his head.

"Aaina, you're his wife. You'll give him s*x, it'll be fine. I have nothing to give him."

I gasped.

We weren't at that level of friendship where we could casually say such things.

"You have no filter." I scowled. He simply laughed at me, bidding me a goodbye.

"Go, now." I sighed, entering the house.

-

My mother in law sat inside the living room, a cup of tea in her hand as her assistant sat by her side, writing something down. She was busy preparing for an upcoming event.

"Salam, mama. How are you?" I greeted with a smile.

She greeted me back, standing up from the sofa. I didn't understand her dynamic too, sometimes she would cover her head and sometimes she would let her hair lose.

Maybe she had a confused personality too.

"I'm great, how was your horse riding with Ahad?" She questioned. I sighed.

"We had to come early because Zaydaan's home."

She nodded in understanding, just at the same time, a helper passed by us, holding a tray.

My mother in law stopped him with a motion of her hand.

"Yeah, he's right upstairs. Infact, why don't you take tea from him and take it up yourself?"

"Okay, uhh sure."

I took the tray from his hand, not understanding the meaning behind holding the tray but picking it up anyway.

"And Aaina?"

"Yes?" I questioned her.

She affectionately put a hand on my face.

"I know that you're supposed to wear these clothes for horse riding but you know that the media can be ruthless. Try to wear Pakistani clothes, okay?"

I nodded.

My father hated everytime my sister and I wore western clothes, so I usually opted for traditional clothes anyway.

"Okay, I'll be careful." I said instead of protesting. How could I say no to such a polite mother in law?

--

With a gradual anxiety that grew as seconds passed, I entered my bedroom.

And there he was. His back was turned towards me, his hands typing away on his phone.

He looked freshly showered, the distinct smell of male bodywash took hold of my senses.

The faint smell of cigarette also engulfed the whole room, he smoked, I knew that but I had never really seen him smoke in front of me.

My hands shook slightly as I put the tray on the table, the clinking sound making the silence in the room go away.

"Assalam alaikum.." I greeted, my voice barely above a whisper.

What else could I have said? Did I have the right to complain? Why didn't you call me? Did you really not think of me at all?

"Walaikum Salam." He greeted, his back still turned towards me.

He finally moved around and his eyes landed on me.

I noticed the bags under his eyes and the way his body language indicated lack of sleep.

He kept staring at me, I had to say something since it felt too awkward.

"Uhh, you're back early." I mentioned.

That was enough for his eyes to turn angry, all that tired demeanour gone and replaced by an arrogant personality.

I gulped as his eyes threw daggers at me.

"What are you wearing? Were you out in these clothes?"

I realised that my clothes were a problem for him too. People weren't evolved in his family, I got that.

"I, yeah I went horse riding with Ahad. I didn't realise that the clothes were an issue but mama told me and I understand now." I quickly said so his anger would go away.

Couldn't he take me out on a date like a normal husband and talk to me? Ask me how I was feeling? Marriages weren't supposed to put women in such awkward positions.

"Why were you gone without my permission?" I almost scowled at him.

Permission? For real? Who was he? My guardian?

"What? I, I didn't know I had to ask." I mumbled instead.

My answers didn't satisfy him.

Anger was such a scarlet emotion, as if it came from hell itself. And my husband displayed every bit of it as he threw his phone on the bed.

He didn't care when his phone hit the headboard, he didn't care how I had flinched. His anger was visible and it frightened me.

"Who do you think you're married to?" I shook my head, not able to say anything.

"No, tell me. You think I'm some maths teacher? You think I'm some clerk? Hmm? Are you that stupid?"

This was the Zaydaan that I had first met. The Zaydaan who told me that a husband's word was the final word. The Zaydaan who gave me lessons.

The Zaydaan that scared me.

"Do you not realise that I have to be answerable for every stupid thing that you do?"

What the hell did I even do?

"I didn't do anything. I was at home all these days, I just left today and I,"

He interrupted me, dismissing my words as if they meant nothing to him.

"It's not about being at home, it's about you not asking me!"

That got me defensive too. Even though I felt like I needed to sit down and calm my nerves, I spoke up.

"You didn't even respond to my texts, how could I have asked you?"

My words sounded confident in my head but they sounded absolutely vulnerable and weak in front of him.

"You could have called my assistant, my advisor, could have called me, no need for stupid excuses, Aaina."

Was he really trying to blame me for the fact that he did not respond to my text messages?

Were all men like this?

"I'm not giving excuses, I'm-" I tried to speak, he shut me up.

"Next time, ask me if you have to go out. There are security arrangements made specifically for you,"

I nodded, I couldn't say anything to that.

Maybe Zaydaan was just worried about me. Right? Ahad told me that there were threats to our lives. Maybe, he just wanted me to be safe.

"Wear decent clothes. I don't want my wife half naked when she's outside the house."

I looked at my clothes twice. I was covered, completely.

"I'm fully covered." I replied.

He shot me a look that shut me up.

"Did I ask?"

No, you didn't.

Am I supposed to listen to everything you say and not explain myself? Do I have to say yes to all that you ask me and do I not get a say in it?

God, I didn't expect this. I expected anger but not this much of it.

"And I am not going to tolerate you hanging out with my brother at farms. If I see one article, talking about you or Ahad in any inappropriate way, I swear Aaina, I won't tolerate it."

I gulped.

So he was basically telling me that I couldn't hang out with the one friend I had made? The one who was actually his brother?

Was he really that concerned about his image?

I won't tolerate it. What would he do? I didn't wanna find out.

"Why are you saying that? He was just giving me company and-" Yet again, my words meant nothing and he spoke over me.

I had never felt so powerless.

I almost felt like crying.

"I know how this country works, how the media works. So for the love of God, don't screw it all up."

Each and every word was firm and strict, I felt like his employee, not his wife.

"Understood?"

I didn't say anything.

I merely nodded my head, looking away and trying to keep the tears at bay.

He hadn't replied to my text messages. He hadn't called. And now he had simply shown up, yelled at me, made me feel inferior and I couldn't do anything about it.

I saw him approaching me and I almost backed away before he caught my wrist, holding me still. 

His thumb reached for my face and he gripped my chin faintly.

His brown eyes stared at me, emotionless.

"I said, 'Understood Aaina?"

So, he wanted me to speak. I closed my eyes to stop myself from crying.

"Yeah. Understood." I whispered.

And he moved back.

Okay, go to the bathroom, cry your heart out and then come back.

Before I could walk away, his eyes landed on the tray and he sat on the sofa.

"Is that for me?" He questioned.

I nodded.

"Okay, pour it then."

I took three deep breaths and bent down, taking the tea pot in my hand and pouring down the tea.

My hands shook as I tried to stop myself, my throat tightened and my vision blurred, all that waiting, all those thoughts, all those plans I had in my head seemed like they were floating away.

Tears welled from deep inside and coursed down my cheeks. No matter how hard I had tried not to cry, I was still crying.

"Are you crying?"

Ofcourse he had noticed. He noticed all my flaws.

I didn't say anything, I tried to wipe them off but they still kept leaking out.

He clicked his tongue, sighing.

"Aaina, I don't want you to cry. Come here." He motioned me to come over.

I didn't.

He leaned forward, holding my hand and making me sit right on his lap.

All that blankness and anger had left his face, all there left was a certain softness.

"Why are you crying?" He enquired.

Wasn't it obvious?

You yelled at me, you made me feel like I'm stupid and you didn't care what you were saying. Your words were mean and hurtful. The things you could have explained with love, you used anger.

Maybe love is not something you believe in. But I do. And I want to love you. I don't want to love someone who makes me cry but I know I won't be able to stop myself.

"Because you yelled and-" I choked out. He shook his head, as if I was lying.

"I did not yell, I told you to do better. Yes?"

I had to agree with him. Not agreeing with him would only make him even more moody. So I nodded.

"Yes."

His hands rubbed soothing circles all over my back.

"Good, then why these tears? Wipe them off." I tried to wipe them off and I tried to get off his lap but I was unsuccessful in both.

"Your tea is getting cold." I murmured as an excuse. He held me tighter.

Why was this so confusing? He had been so rude to me and now he was holding me like I was precious.

Who was Zaydaan?

"Leave it, let me kiss these away first."

I held my breath, my heartbeat fast as he kissed each and every tear away. His fingers wiping away my tears as he placed gentle kisses over my cheeks.

He had never kissed me before.

I wanted him to kiss me. I really did.

And he realised that.

"I didn't kiss you that night, did I?" He suddenly questioned.

"You didn't." I affirmed.

He smirked at me.

"You want me to?"

"Yes." I said without any hesitation.

"I'll only kiss you if you promise that you'll listen to me and you'll work on your mistakes."

I didn't think I had made any mistakes but I really wanted to avoid the argument and I really wanted him to kiss me.

So I nodded.

"I promise."

And then he kissed me. It was harsh at first, the growing hair on his face grazing the side of my lips, but it turned into something so magical after a while.

His lips connected with mine and I realised that this was a forbidden fruit, we weren't allowed to kiss a man before marriage and only now I realised why.

Kisses were more intimate, they could make you forget your own self and they could make you get lost in the other person.

It felt so right. I clung to him in his lap, I felt dizzy, I felt like I was floating.

My heart beat fast and my breath, I seemed to have lost it.

And then he pulled away, smiling at me.

"How did that feel?" He questioned, voice hoarse.

"Perfect." I managed to say.

"That's how you have to be if you want to survive here."

And I realised that I wasn't perfect. And I had to be. For the sake of this relationship.

For my marriage.

___