Unexpected Surprise

The Power of Betrayal and Love: Echoes of Retribution

CHAPTER FOUR:

mehr-un-nisa pov

Mehr-un-Nisa found herself lost in contemplation as her gaze lingered on the vibrant yellow dress adorning her bed. Only yesterday, they had returned to the village, Saad accompanying them. The impending wedding loomed over the week, and the post-reception return to the city added an unspoken weight to the atmosphere.

Since overhearing Saad and Sabtain's conversation, Mehr-un-Nisa had detected subtle shifts in their behavior. Muqadas Chaudhry had sensed it too, prompting her to question Sabtain, who, in turn, attributed the changes to the ongoing case and offered reassurance. Despite Muqadas Chaudhry's lingering doubts, she decided to postpone further inquiry until after the wedding.

Today marked the Mayun ceremony, enveloping the space in an anticipatory hush. Memories of her parents flooded Mehr-un-Nisa's thoughts, and she couldn't escape the haunting questions of "what if" and "how." If only her father were alive, the joy he would have felt; if her mother were present, how would she express her happiness?

These questions, laden with human helplessness and vulnerability, clung to Mehr-un-Nisa like a familiar ache. Despite the frequency with which they invaded her thoughts, she marveled at how they hadn't become a habitual companion.

Dabbing at the tears that had stained her dupatta, she mused on her parents' absence. The door creaked open, interrupting her reflections. Muqadas Chaudhry entered, holding something in her hands, accompanied by the housemaid Rasheda. Mehr-un-Nisa rose from the bed, using her dupatta to conceal the evidence of her emotional moment. "Have you not changed your clothes yet? Don't you intend to get ready?" The Mayun's dress was still placed on the bed as she had left it.

"Yes, I was just about to," Mehr-un-Nisa replied in a hushed tone, gathering her clothes before heading towards the washroom. A brief while later, she reentered the room to find Muqadas Chaudhry alone. The Mayun's dress adorned her gracefully, drawing a smile from Muqadas as Mehr-un-Nisa approached.

"It looks lovely on you. This color suits you well," she complimented, gently placing her hand on Mehr-un-Nisa's head. In response, a faint, lifeless smile appeared on Mehr-un-Nisa's lips.

"Come, let's have tea together," Muqadas suggested, gesturing towards the chairs arranged near the window. She also pulled out a chair for Mehr-un-Nisa. Both settled into their seats as a table with a tea-filled kettle, cups, and sugar awaited them. Mehr-un-Nisa moved to take the tea, but Muqadas Chaudhry intervened with a smile, saying, "I'll take care of that."

"I'll do it, Tai Amma," Mehr-un-Nisa replied with a smile. Muqadas Chaudhry shook her head slightly, stopping her. Both cups were filled with tea, and she handed one to Mehr-un-Nisa.

"Mehr, happiness brings so much anticipation, doesn't it? How eagerly I waited for that day," Muqadas Chaudhry suddenly mused.

"Yes," Mehr-un-Nisa replied with a single word,

Falling silent, she wanted to say, "You should ask this question to your son, not me," but instead, she smiled with a lifeless expression as Muqadas Chaudhry continued.

"Mehr! I know you're worried. People often underestimate how long it takes for someone to truly understand another person. When they form a new relationship, they have to face many doubts. New relationships bring new emotions and hopes. Fragile things are as sensitive as they are delicate, and delicate things need to be protected," Muqadas Chaudhry said, her gaze shifting from the tea cup to Mehr-un-Nisa, who was silently observing.

Muqadas Chaudhry fell silent too.

"Tai Amma, I wanted to ask you something," Muqadas Chaudhry heard Mehr's voice after a few moments.

"What is it, my child?" she asked, smiling.

"Why did Taya Jan kill Dawar Chaudhry?" Mehr mustered the courage to ask, leaving Muqadas Chaudhry speechless. With a smile on her face, Mehr continued, "I understand. When Dawar Chaudhry died, I didn't have the courage to ask you all these questions. No one told me about the animosity between the Dawar Chaudhry family and ours. So," she paused for a moment before continuing, "Tai Amma, I know it's not appropriate to discuss this on such an occasion, but I still want to know."

Muqaddas lowered her gaze and replied, "Mehr, it's not suitable to discuss this matter at this moment. Yet, do you really want to know the reason?" She hesitated for a while, about to say something, when the door of her room abruptly opened, and MahNoor entered. She held a drum in her hand, with Saad standing behind her.

"Give me the drum back," Saad said to Noor, attempting to take the drum, but he was unsuccessful. MahNoor, still in her wedding attire, hurriedly ran to the other side of the room.

"What's the matter with both of you?" Muqadas Chaudhry asked, and both of them turned to look at her. However, Mehr-un-Nisa was solely focused on Saad. This Saad was so different from the Saad in the city, filled with anger and strange madness. He was now entirely transformed. Mehr smiled, shaking her head. How many masks does a person wear, constantly changing between different situations and different people?

"Nothing happened, Amma. He was singing a song, and I was trying to take the drum away," MahNoor replied, still looking at Saad.

"Let me express my happiness!" Saad exclaimed with enthusiasm.

"We also have the right to protect our ears. And who searches for these outdated songs?" MahNoor voiced another complaint.

"They are called classics. The songs this generation listens to today are based on these melodies," Saad replied, placing his hand on his waist as if he were a defiant woman.

"And today, you've taken an oath to shake the foundation by playing them loudly," MahNoor retorted, also standing with her hands on her waist. She and Muqadas Chaudhry observed both of them in silence. The tension in the room had diminished slightly due to the short conversation, but it had not completely dissipated.

"Today, whether the foundation shakes or the house, for two days I was searching and collecting those songs, so don't interfere with my efforts," Saad said, giving his hand a jerk.

"You two, stop fighting and focus on your work. There's plenty to do," Muqadas Chaudhry said, heading towards the door of the room. Mehr-un-Nisa noticed that Muqadas Chaudhry left without answering her question; she could feel that she was avoiding the question.

"Hey, amma, tell him that he won't get the drum," MahNoor called out to Muqadas Chaudhry as she was leaving.

"Ask the bride herself about what songs she wants to listen to," Muqadas Chaudhry said and walked out of the room. Hearing her words, Mehr-un-Nisa looked at both her brother and sister standing in front of her.

"Wow! Looks like the sneaky cat will have the upper hand," Saad said triumphantly.

"Keep the drum! It can help wake people up for suhoor during Ramadan," Saad said as he started to leave. MahNoor was watching him with a victorious smile on her face. But that smile was short-lived when Saad returned to the room and said, "The dish can do the job of the drum as well, and in the kitchen..."

Before he could finish his sentence, MahNoor ran after him, understanding his words. Once they both left, the room would be empty again. Taking a deep breath, Mahr-un-Nisa stood up from her chair and faced the dressing table in front of her. She looked at the green bangles placed on it, larger than her wrist. While gazing at the bangles, she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror. She had heard it many times before—she was the spitting image of her mother.

"Does Amma also look like this in her bridal attire? No, there is something missing. Amma's face should have the joy of happiness, and my face... it's not," she murmured, turning back to her photo while holding it in front of the mirror. She was startled when her dupatta got caught on the box of bangles, and the bangles scattered on the floor. She stood there, holding her hand to her mouth, observing the scattered bangles. She couldn't anticipate what was about to happen, but it was the beginning.

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mohid pov 

Rahim, a trusted employee of Wajahat Chaudhry, greeted Mohid as he parked his car on the porch of the house. Mohid exchanged pleasantries before making his way inside. Wajahat Chaudhry, who had chosen to stay in the city while the rest of his family went to the village, caught Mohid's attention. Standing in front of his grandfather's closed door, Mohid paused, gathering his thoughts. After a moment, he knocked softly.

"May I come in?" Mohid's voice was respectful as he sought permission to enter. Upon receiving a response, he opened the door and stepped inside, his eyes immediately finding Wajahat Chaudhry, who was lying on the bed, deeply engrossed in a book. A warm smile spread across the elder's face as he noticed Mohid's presence.

"Ah, you're here. I was hoping you'd come. Please, have a seat," Wajahat Chaudhry gestured towards a chair, setting the book aside. Mohid quietly took a seat, feeling a mix of emotions in the air.

"How are you feeling?" Mohid asked, breaking the silence after a moment.

"It's only been a couple of days since I moved here from your house, but I'm feeling much better. Your hospitality did wonders for my health," Wajahat Chaudhry replied, his tone filled with gratitude.

"Dada jaan, why did you call me?" Mohid finally asked, curiosity and concern lacing his words.

Wajahat Chaudhry's words stirred a mix of reassurance and embarrassment within Mohid. "Well, I felt that the behavior of your mother and grandmother at our house was not appropriate," Wajahat Chaudhry confessed, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

"Dada jaan, please don't say that. I don't find anything wrong with the behavior of amma and dadi jaan," Mohid replied earnestly, trying to dispel any misunderstandings. Wajahat Chaudhry studied his face intently, contemplating his words.

"No! I must have misunderstood. Their behavior might make you feel... well, because of that, I kept them away from you. I didn't want to bring them to your house, but I apologize..." Wajahat Chaudhry's sentence trailed off, his voice filled with remorse. Mohid could sense the genuine regret in his grandfather's voice.

"Dada jaan, there's no need to apologize. I understand that you were just trying to make things comfortable for me," Mohid reassured him, his voice gentle. Wajahat Chaudhry looked relieved at Mohid's understanding.

Mohid quickly interjected, unwilling to let the apology linger. "Dada jaan, there's no need to apologize. I understand that you have your concerns, but please trust me, I am comfortable with my family, and their presence means a lot to me," Mohid said firmly, rising from the sofa, his conviction evident in his voice.

Wajahat Chaudhry's words struck a chord within Mohid. "You always acted like there was nothing wrong with the way they treated you, but their behavior towards you was always harsh. Yet, you didn't say anything, and I knew it. You have always been like this, ever since childhood... well, Hamad is right when he says that I make a distinction between the two of you," Wajahat Chaudhry mentioned Hamad, causing Mohid's surprise. Mohid's gaze met Wajahat Chaudhry's, and upon seeing Mohid standing, Wajahat Chaudhry gestured for him to sit once more.

"Hamad is foolish. Don't pay attention to his words. You have done so much for me that I can never repay your kindness throughout my life. It is because of you that I have earned respect for my own identity, Dada jaan. If you weren't here, I would have lost my identity. I will always be indebted to you, Dada jaan," Mohid expressed gratefully, settling back down on the sofa.

"When habits become a part of one's nature, a person becomes insensitive, Mohid. I don't care what anyone says or does, but those who care about you see and feel everything. They fight for you. You are very fortunate to have these roles played by your brother, so protect Hamad; he's a kind child," Wajahat Chaudhry's words troubled Mohid. "May Allah preserve the love between you both," he added, his tone laced with concern and hope.

"What's the matter, Dada jaan?" Mohid asked, his concern evident in his voice.

"Nothing, just that I am thinking of transferring the responsibility of the village lands to you," Wajahat Chaudhry's words caught Mohid off guard, leaving him momentarily speechless.

"How can you do that, Dada jaan? I have my civil service job here, and I don't need anything more than that. Besides, Hamad deserves it more than anyone else. How can I accept this? What will Hamad think, Dada jaan..." Mohid's words tumbled out, his confusion and conflict apparent.

"I don't want to hear anything from you now," Wajahat Chaudhry interrupted, his gaze fixed on Mohid before continuing after a brief pause, "Hamad seems a bit tangled these days, don't you feel it?"

"Yes, maybe, I guess," Mohid replied, his voice tinged with uncertainty. However, Wajahat Chaudhry's smile unsettled him slightly, leaving him with an inexplicable sense of unease.

"Mohid, at the age when a person's vision and hearing diminish, and awareness increases, I trust you to take care of this fool. I have faith in you, my son," Wajahat Chaudhry's words filled Mohid with a sense of pride and responsibility. He smiled warmly in response. "Alright, have your meal and go, I will rest a bit," Wajahat Chaudhry added, signaling the end of their conversation.

Mohid stepped out of the room and reached for his cellphone, retrieving it from his pocket to call Hamad. As he made his way towards the guest room, he contemplated the peculiar nature of his stay—a guest in a house that belonged to his father. But in the grand scheme of things, material possessions held no significance when compared to the value of relationships. If one becomes insignificant within their own family, even a grand mansion loses its luster, and the person's prestige dwindles. Such was the reality of his life, and perhaps it would remain that way indefinitely.

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mehr-un-nisa pov 

The mansion stood proud, its walls echoing with laughter and joy. The Mayun celebration had just concluded, leaving everyone in a state of pure bliss. Family and friends gathered, basking in the afterglow of the festivities. The sprawling lawn had served as the perfect venue for the Mayun, enchanting all who attended.

As the event came to an end, Mehr-un-Nisa, the center of attention, was ushered to her room. Surrounded by her beloved cousins, the jovial atmosphere continued undeterred. Perched on the bed, she observed their lively interactions, a smile playing on her lips.

Following the revered Chaudhry's instructions, Mah Noor diligently began removing Mehr-un-Nisa's jewelry and other precious belongings. It was her duty to ensure their safekeeping in Sabtain's room. Though exhausted from the day's activities, Mah Noor's commitment remained unwavering.

"Noor! We still have the whole day tomorrow. Leave it for now," Halima, Mah Noor's first cousin, advised, her voice filled with genuine concern. Mah Noor glanced towards her, carefully handling each item as she considered Halima's suggestion.

Mah Noor smiled at Halima's concern but countered, "You see, that's the tricky part. Tomorrow is dedicated to a whole new set of tasks, and with the wedding ceremony the day after, time is slipping away. I must complete this tonight."

Halima nodded, understanding the urgency. "Well then, let's not waste any more time. We should get back to singing and enjoying ourselves," she suggested, rallying the others. All eyes turned to her . Even Mah Noor, who had been holding a jewelry box, paused to listen.

Dua, Helima's outspoken sister, interjected before anyone else could respond. "Goodness gracious! You just finished piercing our ears with Saad Bhai, and now you want to torture our poor ears with more singing?" she exclaimed, her tone filled with playful exasperation.

Mehr-un-Nisa softly spoke up, defending the art of singing. "Oh, come on! You all fail to appreciate the beauty of music," she said in a gentle voice. Helima's expression shifted, grateful for Mehr-un-Nisa's support. However, her next words shattered any hope of a sincere compliment as she added, "your voice could rival that of a busted drum," bursting into laughter. The room filled with echoes of amusement, leaving Helima in a state of shock, her gaze fixed on Mahnoor, who was lost in a fit of laughter, momentarily forgetting the items she held.

"Ah, well, it seems that Helima's singing has proven to have its own unique benefits for us," Mahnoor said, regaining composure s she clutched the box in her hands and made her way out.

"Don't be so sneaky, Miss Noor. I have also heard your singing," Halima retorted, casting a threatening glance towards Mahnoor, who smirked at Halima before storming out. With Mahnoor's departure, the remaining girls shared a peculiar collective gaze, their eyes fixed on Mehr-un-Nisa, finding it curious to witness such synchrony of attention.

Saba couldn't contain her curiosity any longer. "Hey, Mehr Bhapi, tell me, did you secretly give Sabtain Bhai a warning that the wedding, which was supposed to happen in two months, would take place within a week?" she inquired mischievously. A devilish smile spread across the faces of Helima, Dua, Ayat, and Mehrma, as if they had anticipated this reaction.

Mehr-un-Nisa adjusted her dupatta on her head and looked at Saba with amusement. "Did I hear correctly, or did you just call me 'Bhapi'?" she questioned, her playful tone evident.

Saba confidently responded, "You heard right. I called you 'Bhabhi' because we are Sabtain Bhai's maternal cousins, and since the beginning, I have addressed you as 'Aapi.' and now you'll be our bhabhi So, naturally, you became a 'Bhabi'?" Saba's peculiar reasoning left Mehr-un-Nisa momentarily taken aback. She had posed the question as a diversion, but she hadn't expected such a response.

Mehr-un-Nisa placed her hand on Saba's head and reassured her, "Saba, don't burden you tiny brain kido," she teased saba , offering a comforting touch. making saba pout 

Mehrma chimed in, urging Mehr-un-Nisa to address the initial question. "Don't dodge the question you asked, give us an answer," she insisted.

Mehr-un-Nisa sighed, feeling a sense of uncertainty. "What answer can I give? I don't even know it myself," she confessed, her words hanging in the air as everyone stared at her in silence. "I am telling the truth," she reaffirmed, responding to their persistent gazes.

Saba interjected, changing the direction of the conversation. "By the way, one thing is certain, Mehr Bhapi, you are incredibly fortunate to have a husband like Sabtain, someone who values your dreams," she remarked, surprising Mehr-un-Nisa with her observation.

"Saba, please, call her Mehr Aapi or Bhabhi. And yes, both of them are truly blessed," Halima added, joining the conversation.

"Indeed, you two make a wonderful couple," Durkhasha chimed in. "By the way, is Noor supposed to come and take this with her too?" she inquired, pointing to a few jewelry boxes on the bed, shifting the focus to Mehr-un-Nisa.

"I'll take that with me and also check on her," Mehr-un-Nisa replied, rising from the bed, ready to investigate the matter.

"Noor went to Sabtain Bhai's room, so there's no need for you to go. Let me handle it," Ayat offered, rising from the sofa.

"Ayat, don't thwart her plan. Let her go and find Bhai—ahem, ahem—I mean, Noor. She came up with such a clever excuse; let's not disrupt her plan," Halima chimed in, struggling to contain her laughter.

Mehr-un-Nisa gestured for Ayat to proceed. "Go ahead," she said, settling back down on the sofa. Ayat continued to giggle, remaining seated as mentioned. Meanwhile, Mahnoor returned to the room, brimming with enthusiasm. She grabbed Mehr-un-Nisa's hand, ready to whisk her away. This animated interaction between them left everyone intrigued.

"What's going on?" Mehr-un-Nisa asked, halting Mahnoor's attempt to pull her towards the door. She turned towards Mehr-un-Nisa, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"I have a surprise for you, let's go," Mahnoor exclaimed, her excitement contagious as she tugged on Mehr-un-Nisa's arm.

Just moments ago, Mehr-un-Nisa had witnessed Mahnoor's uncanny human-like behavior. With a hint of hesitation, she questioned, "What surprise have you stumbled upon?"

Ignoring her words, Mahnoor persistently pulled Mehr-un-Nisa outside, their footsteps entangled as they made their way towards Usman Chaudhry's room. A sense of unease started to creep over Mehr-un-Nisa, but she continued to be led by Mahnoor. Finally, they reached their destination, and as Mahnoor swung open the door and stepped inside, Mehr-un-Nisa caught sight of Usman Chaudhry. Her heart skipped a beat as she witnessed him embracing Azlan Chaudhry.

Momentarily frozen in place, Mehr-un-Nisa's presence was soon noticed by the room's occupants as the door creaked open. Azlan, with a warm smile on his face, separated from Usman Chaudhry and turned to greet his sister.

"My sister looks absolutely stunning in her Mayun dress," Azlan remarked, gently patting Mehr-un-Nisa's head. Although there were countless things he wanted to express, tears welled up in her eyes, and she couldn't help but cry as she embraced her brother. After a while, Usman Chaudhry intervened and gently separated the siblings.

"Enough now, Mehr. Please don't cry like this. What will our guests, who have come with Azlan, think?" Usman Chaudhry's words brought Mehr-un-Nisa's attention to the people gathered in the room. Everyone was present—Maqdas Chaudhry, Saad, Mahnoor, and even Sabtain, who stood with his arms crossed and his back against the wall. As soon as her gaze fell on Sabtain, she quickly averted her eyes and noticed an unfamiliar Eastern girl dressed in a beautiful blue suit and dupatta. Although undeniably stunning, Mehr-un-Nisa couldn't help but wonder why she had accompanied Azlan.

"Wait, wait, Taya jaan! Let me explain," Azlan interjected, sensing the bewilderment that clouded the room. All eyes turned to him, eager to unravel the mystery.

With a confident smile, Azlan continued, "This beautiful girl in the blue suit and dupatta is not a guest but someone who will soon be a cherished member of our family. Sabtain didn't get a chance to share the news yet, but we couldn't wait any longer to introduce her to all of you." Azlan's words hung in the air, leaving everyone in the room speechless. The expressions on their faces spoke volumes, revealing a mixture of surprise and curiosity. However, one person's face stood out amidst the crowd—Muqadas Chaudhry. Her expression held not only surprise but also a tinge of disappointment.

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