Undying Affinity

by Sara Naveed

  They finally reached a room which smelt of medicines. The woman pointed at a girl dressed in a black salwar kameez and an off-white shawl. She was applying medicine and bandaging a child’s wounded arm. He could not see her face properly since she had her back towards him. He rubbed his eyes to make sure it was her.

  ‘There she is,’ the woman whispered. ‘Your Zarish.’

  ‘My Zarish,’ he whispered, smiling.

  ‘How did she come here?’ he asked.

  ‘I met her at a bus stop in Lahore three years ago. She asked for my help. She said she wanted to help poor children because it made her happy. Since then, she has been helping them here.’

  He could not believe that a girl who once lived a life of luxury was now living in a village, looking after poor children.

  ‘She works for them selflessly. She reads them stories every night, cooks for them and even teaches them. Children have learnt how to speak English because of her,’ the woman said.

  ‘She is not known as Zarish Munawwar here. Children call her Zarri Bi. She means the world to them.’

  ‘She never thought of going back?’ he asked.

  The woman heaved a sigh before speaking again, ‘I told her to go back but she did not want to. She said she cannot live around those who give more importance to money than relationships,’ she said.

  ‘Maryam Apa, I’ve come to take her with me. Her family needs her,’ Ahmar told her.

  The woman became quiet for a moment.

  ‘I need her,’ he said.

  ‘She needs you more than you need her,’ she said after a long silence.

  He glanced at the woman and then looked at Zarish.

  ‘I have done whatever I could for her. Now it is your responsibility, son. You love her and she loves you. Take her with you and make her happy,’ she said as tears streamed down her face.

  ‘I will. I promise.’

  ‘Thank you, Zarri Bi,’ the child said after his wound had been dressed. Zarish smiled in return and he kissed her on her cheek.

  ‘Okay, who’s next?’ she asked in a tired voice.

  ‘Can you help me too? I have been suffering for years,’ Ahmar said as he sat in front of her.

  Her heart skipped a beat when she heard his voice. She recognized his voice instantly.

  ‘No. It can’t be him,’ she said, shaking her head.

  ‘Help me, please?’ Ahmar said.

  At last, she raised her head to look at him.

  He had changed over the past three years. He now had a beard and his tired eyes looked at her through thick-rimmed glasses.

  He felt the same when he looked at her face. It had changed drastically. Even though she was only twenty-five, she looked much older. There were dark circles and wrinkles around her eyes. Her skin appeared dull and lifeless. He noticed strands of white hair sticking out.

  ‘What has she done to herself? Why didn’t I ask her more questions back then? Why did I let her go so easily?’ he thought bitterly.

  ‘Ahmar . . .’ she whispered, her lower lip quivering. She smiled mirthlessly as a tear rolled down her cheek.

  ‘Zarish . . .’ he said, holding back his tears.

  ‘How did you find me?’ she asked, adjusting her shawl nervously.

  ‘That is a very stupid question to ask,’ he said, grinning.

  ‘Did Saleha tell you about this place?’ she asked.

  He nodded in response.

  ‘Oh, Saleha,’ she said as she clamped a hand over her mouth.

  ‘Did you think it was so easy to run away from me?’ he asked, folding his arms.

  ‘Ahmar . . . you should not be here.’

  ‘Zarish, I am here to take you home.’

  ‘What?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes,’ he replied firmly.

  ‘Na mumkin [Impossible]!’ she said in Pashto, ignoring his statement.

  ‘Let’s go back, Zarish. Please,’ he requested.

  ‘As I said earlier, na mumkin,’ she said and left the room. He followed her outside. When she noticed that he was following her, she became a bit angry but tried to calm herself down.

  ‘It is good to see you after all these years,’ she said, quickening her pace.

  ‘Likewise.’ He looked at her and smiled.

  ‘Now, please go back,’ she said.

  Ahmar could sense the sarcasm in her tone.

  ‘No, I am not leaving without you,’ he replied. She stopped midway.

  ‘Why are you doing this to me, Ahmar?’ she asked, looking at him.

  ‘What have I done?’

  She looked away helplessly.

  ‘You are to blame, Miss Zarish. Only you!’ he said, raising his finger.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Yes. You lied to me. You deceived me,’ he said.

  She looked down, her cheeks reddening.

  ‘Just because your father threatened to ruin my career, you left me?’

  ‘Don’t talk like this about my father, Ahmar. Please,’ she said as tears filled her eyes.

  He took a deep breath and looked at her.

  ‘Do you know about him?’ he asked.

  She nodded.

  ‘I’m sorry for your loss.’

  She didn’t reply and continued walking. He stood in her way.

  ‘Let me go, please,’ she begged.

  ‘You have to answer my questions first!’

  ‘I can’t. Please. I do not want to talk to you right now. I just can’t face you.’

  ‘You have to face me, Zarish. You have to.’

  ‘Do you still want to know why I left you?’ she asked, sobbing.

  ‘I know. Your dad told me everything.’

  ‘What? When did he tell you?’ she asked.

  ‘Read this letter. It will explain everything,’ he said and gave her the letter.

  She read it in silence, tears pouring down her cheeks.

  ‘So now you know how much he regretted his decision,’ Ahmar said.

  She buried her face in her hands and bawled. He wanted to hold her but he couldn’t as there were people around.

  ‘He wanted you to come back home, Zarish. He wanted me to bring you back,’ he explained.

  ‘I know,’ she whispered. ‘But . . .’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I cannot leave this place. These children need me,’ she said.

  ‘But I’ve already talked to Maryam Apa, and she has agreed to let you go.’

  ‘The purpose of my life has changed, Ahmar. My purpose is to help and serve these poor children. I cannot leave them,’ she said and went back to her room.

  Ahmar shook his head and followed her again.

  He decided to leave for Lahore the next day along with Zarish. Though she did not agree to leave with him, he remained adamant.

  That night, after serving dinner to the children, Zarish went back to her dorm. Ahmar did not follow her assuming that she needed some time alone. He kept himself busy with the children. When Zarish came back, she saw them playing ludo. Not wanting to interrupt, she went back in to make the beds and finish her chores. She then offered her evening prayer. It seemed she had completely devoted herself to religion. Soon the children went to sleep and Zarish served Ahmar dinner. After he was done, they went out for a walk. They found an abandoned bonfire and sat around it to keep themselves warm. She was wearing a beige-coloured salwar kameez with a maroon woollen shawl wrapped tightly around her shoulders. To Ahmar, she looked as beautiful as ever. They sat close together, their bodies almost touching.

  ‘Are you cold?’ he asked.

  ‘I’m fine,’ she replied as she slowly rubbed her hands together.

  Though he wanted to reach for her hands and hold them, something held him back.

  ‘Where is Amber? Did you marry her?’ she asked out of nowhere; breaking the silence.

  Ahmar sighed and told her the entire story. He told her how he took Amber and her daughter to Islamabad for Amber’s treatment and how she died after a month. He also told her about Pa
ri’s adoption. Zarish burst into tears after hearing the tragic story. Ahmar put a comforting arm around her shoulder.

  ‘Ahmar, a lot has happened since we last saw each other. We have lost people we loved,’ she said.

  ‘That’s true.’ He sighed. ‘We’ve lost so much. Now I don’t want to lose anything more.’

  She buried her face in his shoulder and sobbed.

  ‘Zarish, tell me one thing.’

  She sat up and looked at him, her eyes moist.

  ‘How did you manage all these years?’

  ‘You taught me,’ she answered.

  ‘Me?’ He raised a brow.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘Whenever I faced a problem, I asked myself what Ahmar would do if he was in my place, and accordingly took decisions.’

  He pulled his eyebrows together in bewilderment.

  ‘Zarish, you know what?’ he asked.

  She turned to look into his eyes.

  ‘Everything is destiny’s plan.’

  She looked at him but did not say anything as she remembered those lines clearly. He looked back at her.

  ‘I am sitting right next to you. We’re close. We’re together. Don’t you think it’s destiny?’ He held her hand.

  She pulled her hand away when she realized they were sitting too close together. He kept looking at her, amazed.

  ‘Ahmar . . . I don’t know what you expect from me, but I want you to know that I am not the same Zarish. I have changed,’ she said.

  ‘I like the new Zarish then.’ He held her hand again. ‘Change is good sometimes.’ He smiled.

  She lowered her gaze.

  ‘For me, you’re the same Zarish. Your heartbeat has the same rhythm. Your eyes have the same sparkle. Your hands have the same warmth. Your face has the same glow and still lights up when I am around. So nothing has changed and nothing ever will.’

  She stood up, ignoring his words, and walked into the woods.

  ‘Zarish . . . stop,’ he called after her but she did not listen.

  It started drizzling. She walked for a while until she noticed she had reached the deep part of the forest. She stopped and looked around, he was not behind her.

  Suddenly someone touched her arm and she gasped. He stood in front of her, smiling. She coughed a little and then looked at him.

  ‘Ahmar . . . you should go back. Now. Please. Don’t make me weak,’ she pleaded.

  ‘I want to become your strength, Zarish,’ he said, pulling her closer. ‘I am here so that I can stand by you and become your support. I’m here for a reason, Zarish,’ he said.

  She shut her eyes as tears poured out. He wiped them with his thumb.

  ‘If you don’t want to leave, it’s fine. I will stay here with you.’

  ‘No . . . you can’t!’ she cried.

  ‘Yes. I will if you do not come with me.’

  She looked away helplessly.

  ‘Your family needs you, Zarish. I need you.’

  When she opened her eyes to look at him, he held her face gently.

  ‘I need you more than you need me,’ he murmured.

  A sudden downpour made them look up. They were completely drenched.

  ‘I love you, Zarish. I have always loved you, and I will always love you.’ He brought his face closer to hers. ‘I will never leave you. I was a fool to believe your lies. I should not have listened to you. I regret it. I know I cannot undo it. But now, I promise to always stay by your side,’ he assured her.

  ‘And forever?’ she asked, finally.

  ‘Yes,’ he replied, smiling.

  ‘Ahmar . . . I . . . I do not know what to say . . . I am sorry for ruining your life. I know I have hurt you a lot. And I . . . I do not deserve you . . .’ He put a finger on her lips before she could complete the sentence.

  ‘Don’t say anything! You do not have to apologize for anything, Zarish. What is done is done. I just want to be with you. Let’s start afresh. Okay?’

  She didn’t say anything.

  ‘God . . . see what you’ve done to yourself!’ he said, holding her face in his hands.

  She nodded glumly. The rain was still pouring down.

  ‘You deserve a better life. A happy and healthy life with me,’ he whispered and smiled.

  ‘Ahmar . . .’ she murmured.

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘I thought I had lost you forever,’ she whispered.

  ‘You haven’t. I’m still with you.’

  ‘I can’t explain how glad I am to see you here. I have missed you so much,’ she said as she kissed his hand.

  ‘I’m here, Zarish. And I will always be,’ he said.

  ‘You’re all wet,’ she said.

  ‘Yeah. It’s all right.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she murmured.

  ‘For what?’ he asked.

  ‘I wish I had an umbrella,’ she said as her face lit up.

  He knew what she was referring to and smiled too.

  ‘Don’t worry. It is still with me,’ he said and pulled out her red umbrella from his jacket.

  Zarish was shocked.

  ‘You . . . you still have it?’ she asked.

  He nodded triumphantly.

  She smiled as she held his other hand and brought it close to her cheek.

  ‘I’m a bit surprised,’ she whispered.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I thought you had forgotten me.’

  ‘I can never forget you, Zarish. Not in this lifetime at least. Do you know why?’ he asked.

  She looked into his eyes and realized they were standing too close to each other. She could almost hear his heartbeat and feel his cool breath.

  ‘Why?’ she asked.

  ‘Remembering you is like breathing. If I cannot forget to breathe, then how can you expect me to forget you?’

  She smiled and closed her eyes, feeling content.

  Before leaving for Lahore the next day, Zarish promised to stay in touch with Maryam Apa and the kids. She also promised to send money no matter which part of the world she lived in.

  They reached Lahore before dusk. She hesitantly stepped out of the car and looked at her house. She had come back after three years.

  ‘Ready to meet your family?’ Ahmar asked.

  ‘I can’t . . . go in,’ she said.

  ‘You have to. C’mon,’ Ahmar said. ‘They’re waiting for you.’

  Her entire family, including her brothers, stood on the porch to welcome her. Haroon and Muraad were there too. Zarish burst into tears when she saw her mother.

  ‘Come,’ Ahmar said, pushing her forward.

  Zarina ran towards her daughter and hugged her. Tears rolled down her cheeks and they both held each other tightly. Her brothers came forward and hugged Ahmar, thanking him profusely. Haroon shook hands with him.

  Zarina gave him a warm, happy smile and mouthed a silent ‘thank you’. He nodded with a smile on his face. It was then she decided to get Zarish married to him.

  Epilogue

  A Few Months Later . . .

  ‘Get off me, Ahmar!’ Zarish said.

  ‘No, I won’t,’ he said and wrapped his arms around her waist tightly.

  ‘Let me make breakfast for you guys. I don’t want Pari to be late for school,’ she said, flipping the French toast in the pan.

  He brought his face closer and stroked her big, round belly. She was eight and a half months pregnant.

  ‘In fact, you will be late for work too,’ she added.

  ‘I don’t care. I don’t feel like leaving you right now,’ he whispered in her ear and kissed it.

  ‘Ahmar,’ she said, trying to free herself from his hold.

  ‘Stop fidgeting. Stand still,’ he said, kissing her earlobe again.

  ‘Pari will be here any minute,’ she told him.

  ‘Oops,’ he said, stepping back.

  ‘Thank you.’ She put a chocolate chip in his mouth and pushed him away.

  ‘Do you know how much you mean to me?’ he sa
id as he leaned against the refrigerator.

  ‘I know,’ she said, not paying attention.

  ‘Do you know how much I love you?’ he asked. ‘Do you know how much I’ve waited for these moments?’

  ‘I know,’ she said without looking at him.

  ‘Do you know how much I miss you at work?’

  ‘I know everything, Ahmar,’ she said as she put the plates on the table.

  ‘Do you know how much I . . .’

  She interrupted him by covering his mouth with her hand.

  ‘Don’t you get tired of repeating these lines over and over again?’

  He shook his head.

  ‘He is so handsome,’ she thought.

  ‘Why?’ she asked, uncovering his mouth.

  ‘Because my love is limitless,’ he murmured. ‘I can’t and I won’t live without you,’ he said and smiled, making her blush.

  ‘What?’ he asked.

  ‘I love you.’

  ‘I love you more, Mrs Ahmar Muraad.’

  Acknowledgements

  I would like to thank the following people for inspiring me, for contributing towards my work and helping me write this book. My younger sister, Ayesha Naveed, helped me at every step of the writing process. I want to thank her for urging me on and giving me new brilliant ideas every time. She was the first person to read my book and also my first critic. I love you so much, Ashu!

  I want to thank my family—my parents and my brother—for trusting me and my writing and helping me fulfil my dream of becoming a writer. Without their support and encouragement, I could not have completed this book.

  I would like to thank my friends and readers for supporting and encouraging me.

  A special thanks to the following people:

  Thank you, Tarini Uppal, for seeing potential in my writing and giving me a chance to become a Penguin author. I owe it all to you!

  Thank you, Rajni George, for forwarding my work to Tarini. You’re the best!

  Thank you, Meena Rajasekaran, for designing a beautiful cover for my book and giving it a brand-new look.

  Thank you, Saloni Mital, for being the best copy editor and making the strenuous process of editing so easy.

  Thank you, Peter Modoli, for listening to my queries and helping me out in the best possible way. You’re the best publicist to work with.

  Thank you, Zohaib Ahmed, for showing immeasurable support.