The promise of new beginnings

The Power of Betrayal and Love: Echoes of Retribution

CHAPTER FIVE:

sabtain pov

In the early morning light, Sabtain returned to the Haveli after his invigorating jog. The silence that enveloped the house indicated that only the servants were awake, while the rest of the household and guests still slumbered peacefully. The previous night's revelries and conversations had kept everyone up late, causing a delay in their waking hours. were still lost in deep slumber.

As Sabtain entered, he couldn't help but marvel at the stark contrast between the tranquil morning atmosphere and the vibrant energy that had filled the house during the night. Azlan's arrival had injected new life into the mansion, and even Elizabeth Jackson, a cardiothoracic surgeon who had been with Azlan at the hospital, was welcomed as an esteemed guest. Although Azlan had playfully remarked that she wasn't a guest, it became evident through everyone's actions that her visit was primarily to experience his village.

Pausing in his conversation with a servant, Sabtain made his way towards his room, eager to retreat into his own space. As he opened the door, his eyes were immediately drawn to a large framed photo of a wedding, specially placed on the wall. It had never occurred to him before, but now he noticed the absence of joy on Mehr's face in the captured moment. The realization struck him like a bolt of lightning: had he overlooked her true happiness all this time?

Love and hatred, two powerful emotions, can distort one's perception. Saad's obsession with revenge had consumed him so completely that he had become blind to everything else. He pondered the nature of his revenge - what purpose did it serve if there was no true gain? Would exposing Hammad and sending him to jail reveal the identity of Wajdan Chaudhry's killer, ?.

Approaching the bedside, Sabtain's gaze shifted from the picture, and he allowed himself to sink into the comfort of his bed. Taking a deep breath, he contemplated the revelations of the morning, knowing that he had much to uncover and understand about Mehr's true happiness and the tangled web of secrets that surrounded them all.

Sabtain, with his arms shielding his eyes, uttered in a loud voice, "I have been tested by those closest to my heart in this world."

Intrigued, a deep, masculine voice queried, "Who has tested you, my brother-in-law?" Sabtain, engrossed in his thoughts, observed Azlan standing by the partially open washroom door. Azlan, dressed in trousers and a t-shirt, was in the process of drying his hair with a towel.

Surprised by Azlan's presence, Sabtain exclaimed, "Azlan! What brings you here?" Undeterred, Azlan proceeded to share his perspective.

"Just fifteen minutes ago, I had finished bathing. Due to a broken shower in my room and all the other rooms being occupied, I noticed your empty room. Aware of your childhood obsession for jogging, I took the liberty of using it. As I was about to leave, you entered, exuding the aura of a stoic hero, my dear lawyer," Azlan disclosed, sitting up and attentively listening to Azlan's words.

Amused by Azlan's explanation, Sabtain playfully inquired, "So, which Physician advised you to bathe at such an early hour?" Azlan, still drying his hair with the towel, took a seat in front of the dressing table, ready to share his reasoning.

"when did you like Physician, sabtain?" Azlan had chuckled.

"Of course! I lost my confidence in doctors when you became one," he said with a smile, granting the servant permission to bring his juice. "Bring coffee for Azlan," Sabtain instructed the servant who had just delivered his juice at the door.

"Thank you, but could you also bring tea with biscuits?" Azlan requested as the servant left to fetch his coffee. Sabtain sat back, sipping his juice, while Azlan turned to him with a thoughtful expression.

"By the way, Mr. Lawyer, you've spun a simple question into a captivating tale," Azlan remarked, a hint of admiration in his voice.

Sabtain, intrigued, asked, "What do you mean?"

"I asked you, 'Who has tested you?' but you didn't answer," Azlan smiled, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Sabtain paused, considering Azlan's words. "What should I say to you?" he finally replied, the weight of unspoken thoughts hanging between them.

Azlan placed a comb gently on the dressing table, his gaze thoughtful. "The question is, who has rendered you so helpless?"

As the servant returned with their drinks, Azlan turned to Sabtain once more. "Aren't you tired after embarking on such a long journey?" he asked, his tone gentle yet probing.

"I am very tired. You should ponder over it, brother-in-law. Now, tell me quickly, what happened? Then, I'll retreat to my room," Azlan remarked, just as a knock echoed from the room door. Sabtain rose from his bed and retrieved the tray of tea and the plate of biscuits from the servant.

"Nothing, I promise. Take it and leave now, eat it in your room," he said, handing the tray to Azlan, his gaze fixed on Azlan's expression of worry. "There's nothing," he added, his voice laden with reassurance.

Azlan yawned, taking the tray from him and placing it on the dressing table, signaling that he should depart. The servant, having taken the empty glass of juice, left the room. Sabtain then walked towards his bed and sat on the edge, the weight of the day settling on his shoulders.

"Come on, don't tell me. I'll just assume without any testimony from you. Are you troubled because of Mehr?" Sabtain, upon hearing the name Mehr, was momentarily caught off guard, but he quickly regained his composure.

"There's nothing like that. And stop smiling like a villainess from soap operas who believes they have succeeded in their tactics," he playfully jested, taking a light jab at Azlan's smile.

"Sabtain, if you are troubled because of Mehr, I apologize on her behalf. If she has in any way caused you distress, I will have a conversation with her. Just understand that there is nothing to worry about now," Azlan spoke 

sabtain rose from his bed walked toward azlan and lift him up with one hand and said "You seem to have forgotten the language of respect. Get up and leave my room. I also need to freshen up a bit. Today is an important event,and i am the man of the event so you will dance to my tune. I am going to sleep a bit ," he grabbed the tray from the table and guided azlan out of the room.

"And yes, we will discuss Miss Elizabeth, whom Dr Azlan has brought with him, later i'll discuss with you. . Now, get out and instruct the servant to fix the shower in your bathroom. Goodbye, ," Azlan attempted to say something, but the door closed before he could utter a word.

After Azlan exited, the smile vanished from Sabtain's face. He scrutinized everything once more before turning back to the bed and collapsing onto it. His contemplative mind was completely empty in that moment. He did not want to dwell on anything at present. All he desired was to sleep peacefully, free from the troubles of his life. He closed his eyes, and within a matter of minutes, he found himself drifting into the serene realms of slumber.

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mohid pov 

Sitting at a table in the bustling restaurant, the two brothers found themselves engrossed in their respective lunches. One brother savored each bite, a picture of contentment, while the other's troubled mind left little room for appetite. Mohid glanced down at his untouched plate, absently picking up his spoon only to return it untouched. His hands sought solace in the soft touch of a napkin, wiping away the unease that lingered within. Hamad, noticing his brother's uneaten meal, furrowed his brow in confusion.

"What's the matter, bhai? Why aren't you eating?" Hamad inquired, his concern evident in his voice. Mohid met Hamad's gaze momentarily, a silent exchange of emotions passing between them, before lowering his eyes back to his plate. "Why won't you talk to me?" Hamad pressed, hoping for a response that didn't come. "Bhai," he called out, a tinge of urgency in his voice.

"I am eating," Mohid replied softly, his spoon trembling in his hand.

"I know something's bothering you. You've been avoiding my calls, and even today, you join me for lunch reluctantly," Hamad stated, his voice tinged with disappointment. Mohid had intentionally kept his distance ever since their visit to Wajahat Chaudhry's house. The phone calls went unanswered, and Hamad's absence during Mohid's visit to Wajahat Chaudhry's only deepened the divide between them.

Mohid had waited anxiously, hoping for Hamad's return, but his hopes were dashed as the night wore on. The weight of unspoken thoughts hung heavily in the air, preventing any discussion of the matter, fearing the repercussions it might bring. Mohid was all too aware of Hamad's influence in Wajahat Chaudhry's decisions, and it seemed once again his attempts to discuss their family inheritance had been dismissed. 

"Bhai, you're wearing a police uniform. People will start suspecting things, like I'll bribe you," Mohid remarked, his gaze fixed on Hamad as he took a spoonful of rice.

Hamad's eyes widened in surprise, comprehending the implications of Mohid's words. "That's a form of bribery, just like feeding a donkey," he quipped, gesturing towards their untouched lunch.

A glimmer of hope appeared in Hamad's eyes as he asked, "Did it work?"

Mohid took a casual sip of water before responding, "No."

"What?" Hamad's eyes widened even further, disbelief etched on his face. "You can't say that," he urged, his tone desperately trying to mask his disappointment, momentarily reminiscent of the old Hamad from days past.

"You know perfectly well why I'm upset," Mohid emphasized, his voice laced with a mix of frustration and hurt.

"If you're upset about me not going back to the village, what's the use? Only one day remains before my semester break is over. As for that accident involving Safeer, I had nothing to do with it and the police hadn't connected me. Why should I go? And if I were to leave, it would only prove to that son of a...," Hamad trailed off, his voice tinged with nonchalance. Mohid fell silent, his thoughts swirling in the air, heavy with unspoken emotions. He didn't mention to Hamad that he's the one who cut Hamad's name out of the suspect list so the police wouldn't be calling him.

"Oh, by the way, when I came home to see Dada Jan two days ago, where were you? I even called you, but you didn't answer," Mohid questioned, a hint of accusation in his tone, his hand resting on the concealed table, his fingers involuntarily forming a tight fist near his lips. His eyes remained fixed on Hamad, a silent plea for understanding lingering between them. A flicker of shadow crossed Hamad's face.

"I was with friends, and my phone happened to be on silent," Hamad responded, sensing the tension. Mohid's question about inheritance brought a visible shift in Hamad's demeanor. His patience began to waver, the weight of their unspoken conversation becoming increasingly palpable.

"There's one advantage to a silent phone. It serves as a perfect shield when you want to ignore someone," Mohid remarked. "Was this the reason why you chose not to agree with what the elders decided for inheritance?"

"I don't think I'm wrong. You're also a son of this family. It wasn't your fault that Baba Jaan had to marry another woman for an heir. It wasn't you who made that decision. So why are they treating it like some noble task to give you a portion of the inheritance?" Hamad paused for a moment, the weight of his words hanging in the air, before continuing, "I don't know how they treated you when you were a child, but from as far back as I can remember, they always treated you like a disease. Don't tell me that they gave you money for education and a house in the city, because you and I both know that what they gave you pales in comparison to the charity we've given in the past six months. No one has ever truly appreciated you as a son of this family, and it infuriates me." Hamad concluded his statement, a mix of anger and frustration evident in his voice.

Mohid absorbed Hamad's words, the truth of them weighing heavily on his heart. He had grown up knowing only hatred rather than love, and despite all he had received, he was acutely aware that it was nothing more than charity.

"I have everything I want and need, and I don't desire anything more. It's all yours. I will return the papers of the lands to Dada Jan, and you won't say a word," mohid said, a peculiar smile playing on hammad lips upon hearing response.

Hamad met mohid's gaze, his voice calm as he replied, "The lands or the business, one of them belongs to you. I don't want either."

"You know I have a job here. Both of these are not needed," he said with a hint of agitation, his voice trembling slightly.

"Alright, the land is fine. You can come and take a look and throughout the year; Rahim will take care of it," Hamad's calmness prevailed, as if he hadn't heard a word Mohid said. His words were like a soothing balm, a temporary refuge from the storm brewing inside him. "I know what Dada Jan might have told you, like you are fortunate, etc., etc. But in my view, you are the most unfortunate person in this world because you have to fight against your own for your rights," Hammad's words echoed in the air, laden with a mixture of bitterness and empathy.

He hadn't said anything wrong; he was merely stating the painful truth. Mohid knew all this, but hearing it from someone else's mouth made it unbearable. Hamad let his words hang in the air, their weight pressing heavily on both brothers. Lost in the maze of their complex emotions, they were engrossed in their own thoughts when Hamad's phone abruptly shattered the silence, jolting them back to reality.

Hamad's face contorted with visible distress as he engaged in a heated conversation over the phone. Without uttering a word, he gestured to the waiter, his eyes pleading for assistance. His face paled, and a mix of disbelief and anguish crossed his features. "He has arrested Hamid, bhai,"

Mohid's expression remained stoic, but inside, a whirlwind of emotions churned. He locked eyes with his brother, silently promising unwavering support. They left the restaurant after paying the bill, their minds consumed by the impending ordeal at the police station.

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 mehr-un-nisa pov

Today was the day of Mehr's wedding. Her brother was to walk her down the aisle, where Sabtain awaited her. She was dressed in her wedding gown, the anticipation and excitement palpable in the air. Before leaving, Azlan wanted to discuss something with her, and as they began their conversation, the topic caught her off guard.

Azlan watched the changing colors on Mehr's face. The room felt charged with emotions as they both took a seat, ready to resume their conversation. The weight of unspoken words was palpable.

"Mehr, may I ask what's on your mind?" Azlan's voice was gentle, filled with love and apprehension. Mehr, unable to meet his gaze directly, kept her eyes downcast. Her silence spoke volumes, revealing the turmoil within her.

"Your silence speaks volumes, Meher. If you and Sabtain wish to keep your affairs private, I won't intrude. But let me offer you this piece of advice before you shut me out completely: as you embark on this new journey, it's important to let go of past mistakes. Even if they aren't your own, find it in your heart to forgive," Azlan's words carried a mix of wisdom and vulnerability.

A moment of silence enveloped the room, filled only with the soft sound of their breathing. Then, Meher heard Azlan's voice once again, breaking through the quietude.

""I only want your happiness, Mehr. I won't impose my beliefs on you, but I urge you to consider this: Before you decide to cut someone out of your life, think about whether letting go of your ego could help you preserve a valuable relationship." Azlan's voice held a hint of longing and concern

The room seemed to hold its breath as their words hung in the air. In that intimate moment, the bond between siblings was both tested and reaffirmed, setting the stage for the path they would choose to follow.

Mehr grappled with the words to express that it wasn't about ego but about her own self-respect. How could she convey the pain of being forced into a union without their consent? How could she make Azlan understand the deep hurt that came from not having a say in her own life decisions? But now, what was left to do? She had resigned herself to a life where her self-esteem would be crushed daily.

"Mehr?" Azlan's voice called her back to the present, and she looked at him, a smile flickering across her face. Her eyes held a mixture of tears and a glimmer of a smile.

"Don't worry, Azlan bhai. I'll always keep that in mind. My only dissatisfaction stems from the fact that Sabtain will have to leave for the city the day after the reception. That was my only concern, nothing more," she explained, trying to alleviate his worries. But deep down, she knew there was so much more to it.

"You didn't tell me how I look, did you?" Azlan's silence and visible discomfort embarrassed Mehr, prompting her to inquire.

"beautiful, gorgeous , today if Baba Jaan and Amma Jaan were here, their eyes would never tire of looking at you," Azlan's unexpected response caught her off guard. Looking at him, she couldn't help but feel a pang of longing.

"Sometimes, I wish there was a way to bring them both back," she whispered, her voice filled with moisture.

"we may be separated from our parents, but we are not alone," Azlan's despondency was palpable as he spoke. "My prayer is for your eternal happiness, Mehr!" He stared at her for a few moments, then glanced at the clock on the wall. It read seven o'clock. As he looked back at Mehr, he gently placed his hand on her head to offer comfort just as a knock on the door interrupted their moment.

Startled, Mehr lowered her head and wiped away her tears, while Azlan, too, quickly composed himself. Usman Chaudhry entered the room, catching a glimpse of their vulnerability.

"Why are you making my daughter cry?" Usman Chaudhry approached both of them, concern etched on his face. He looked at Mehr's red eyes, seeking an explanation.

"It's nothing, Tayya Jan," Azlan replied with a smile, averting his gaze.

"Well then, why are your eyes red?" Usman Chaudhry directed his question at Mehr once again.

"just missing amma and baba jaan," Mehr's voice trembled with emotion. Her words hung in the air, and for a moment, silence enveloped them all.

"I understand, Mehr. Some relationships leave a void at every step. I, too, carry the burden of their absence in my heart. But beyond that, there is little we can do. The true value of certain bonds is only truly felt once they are gone," Usman Chaudhry's voice carried the weight of experience.

"Enough of this sadness. This is a joyous occasion; tears have no place here. Let us pray for more moments of happiness and shield ourselves from future sorrows," Usman Chaudhry said, embracing both Mehr and Azlan.

"Now, no more tears, lest Sabtain gets scared seeing you," Azlan chimed in, his own eyes welling up with tears.

"Don't say such things about my daughter, Azlan. My Mehr is a fairy, even in her simplicity," Usman Chaudhry said with a smile.

", She's going to ruin her makeup," Azlan teased, eliciting laughter from Mehr.

"May God always keep your laughter intact," Usman Chaudhry wished her. "I have come to personally escort my daughter. Shall we go, Mehr?" he asked, his smile reassuring. Azlan and Usman Chaudhry then walked towards the exit together, symbolizing a new chapter in Mehr's life. In that moment, Mehr realized it was not just about herself anymore; she had to cherish the relationships that had supported her every step of the way. These relationships had always been faithful to her, and now it was her turn to value them. To neglect them would only cause more pain to those who had stood by her. With each step forward, she made a silent commitment to honor and cherish those bonds. As she moved towards her new life, anticipation filled her heart.

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