Shadow of Devil

Summary: "All of us have seen his name..."

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Her heart is heavy and stuck at the bottom of her throat. Leaving Veer stowing in his hell of misconceptions is a physical agony, still Amrit knows what he needs is time and space to comprehend and a little persuasion in form of imposed distance.

They did not have time to mend cracks on their armours as the war ranged and the wolves sprawled closer. Her skin prickles with the sense of wrongness as she made her way downstairs, into the bubble of music and chatter that swells up to swallow her. Malice lingers in the air, it crawls along her skin.

Whatever it is, the conspiracy those men from the morning spoke of, it is already at work. The sensation that comes over her is strangely forbidding. The kind that warned her with pricking sense of familiar danger. Amrit tries to console herself that this was lack of Veer by her side as she makes her way through mindless pleasantries and small talk. But the feeling lingers - like a stubborn stain on rather fragile fabric.

Then her eyes fall upon Anwar, sulking in the shadows with a particular scowl upon his face. The sense of defeat in the set of his shoulders settles rather familiar with her own that Amrit makes her way over to him automatically. He nods to her, giving way so she could join his shadow bubble.

Anwar plays with the glass in his hand, liquid inside sloshing from side to side. His eyes are elsewhere. Silence between them is rather comfortable with companionship.

With a brief glance at her hard worn composure Anwar sighs.

"Yeh mohabbat itna mushkhil kiyun hai?" He comments in general. "Na kiya jaata hai. Na jatayaa jata hai. Na bhulaya jaata hai. Na jiya jaata hai. Why do people complicate their lives with it?"

"It is not complicated Anwar Bhai Sahab, par kabhi kabhi dil ki aawaaz dil taq pohochne mein waqt lagtha hai. Aur woh waqt deni chahiye. Dill ko sambhalne ke liye, apne dil ki baat jaan ne ke liye. "

Anwar looks down at her, his eyes rather soft.

"Kuch logo ko waqt hi nahi milti Babhi jaan," he says wistfully. "Jab taq dil ki baat samajh mein aajaaye, dil haat se nikhal chuki hoti hai. If you love them you should never let them go. Ek pal ke liye bhi nahi."

His words settle with her rather ominously for she has done something oh so similar, but Amrit wills not to let it affect her now. Instead she takes a look at Anwar's fallen face.

"Kya Hua?"

Anwar smiles sadly.

"Humne apni mohabbat ki Itni ruzwaai ki hai ke ab humare mohabbat par kissi ko bharosa nahi."

His eyes roam over the crowd and settle on Rukzaar who stands conversing with a pair of ladies clad unmistakably in dancing attire.

"Her uncle is here," Anwar reveals without being prodded. "Those are students from her mother's art institution. It has fallen into his patronship and he has brought them only to insult her - show her who still holds all that is precious to her. And she wouldn't let me -" he breaks off, looking away just as a man joins the conversation.

"Ali - her uncle - means no good. He is in cahoots with Rathod and they have this man -"

Amrit's sudden gasp brings him to a sudden stop. She clutches a hand at Anwar's arm.

"Get - Rukzaar - away!"

"Babhi?"

Her eyes are wide in fear, focused solely on the man who was conversing with Rukzaar. From the way Rukzaar shifts Anwar knows the conversation is making her uncomfortable, but it is nothing compared to the terror on Amrit's face.

"Nahi," she mouths, backing away slightly as the man turns to look at her.

His eyes are strange, lined oddly with kohl. He rests his gaze on her as if he had known she was looking at him.

As the shadows shift Anwar sees the scar that cuts across his left eye, as if someone had brandished a knife across his face. Corners of the man's mouth lifts up and Amrit trembles barely managing to stand.

"Now Anwar! Please!" She manages, before withdrawing further into the shadows. Anwar complies almost immediately, springing forth urged by her distress.

He wastes no time on pleasantries or even pretence of politeness. Instead he takes Rukzaar by her wrist and tugs her away, with him. Anger blazes in him, misplaced and unreconciled.

"Tu kisse baat kar rahi thi?" He thunders on her the moment as soon as they are alone. "The way he was looking at you. Are you mad Rukzaar?"

"Ali sahab sent him after me," she shrugs. "Reckons I might be bullied into marrying him if he dangles mama's school as a bait. Humne saaf saaf bata diye -"

Anwar grabs her by the shoulders shaking her at her guilelessness. Rukzaar is cut off abruptly.

"Why do you put yourself in this position? Why -"

Rukzaar tears away from him, looking at him with dismissive disapproval.

"What do you want?" She asks finally.

"What do you want?" Anwar asks in turn.

Rukzaar sighs.

"Aise pooch rahe ho jaise jo maangoo de denge."

"Maang kar dekhiye Rukzaar Jaan."

"Humse mohabbat kar paayenge aap?" Rukzaar asks him abruptly. "Sachchi wali. Bina kissi Majboori ki, kissi ehesaan ki, kissi wajai ki? Humein kissi ki tukrai hui mohabbat nahi chahiye. I don't want to be your second choice - your consolation price - the one you settled for because you can't have Noor Jahaan! Can you give that to me?"

"Agar hum yeh sab de dein  - isse bhi zada de dein - will you stop this madness?"

"But you won't!" She cries. "All these years you never realized how I feel - what I feel - what you mean to me - and now what?"

"Haan toh iss baat ki saza tu humein kab taq dengi?"

As always the argument brings them closer and this once Anwar pulls her closer, engulfing her in his arms.

"I can't lose you," he mutters into her hair. "God, I haven't learned to live without you. I won't. I can't. Koi tujhe humse nahi cheen sakta. Koi nahi."

Rukzaar says nothing. There's something sacred about that moment which takes words from her. Instead she allows Anwar to talk.

"Yeh kya ehesaan ehesaan laga rakhi hai? Kaun si ehesaan. Kaisi ehesaan? Kiss par ehesaan? Yahaan dam humara ghut raha hai toh apne Jeena aasaan karna ehesaan kab se hogayi?"

"You don't mean it -"

"I'm going to do something seriously reckless if you say that one more time," Anwar cuts her off. "You wanted to know what I want? Haan? I want you. Deal with it."

"Fine," Rukzaar mumbles, snuggling against him.

Anwar feels his arms relaxing around her as she burrows closer, but he hesitates to believe how easy getting that burden out of his chest had proved to be. Amrit was right, love was easy - it was their own actions that complicated it.

"Bass?" He asks blankly. "That's all you are going to say?"

"Yes," he couldn't see any further than the top of her head, but he could definitely hear the smile in her voice.

"That must be the most selfish proposal in the history of mankind and that is all I'm going to say about it." The tips of her ears have turned red.

"Shouldn't you say yes if it is a proposal?"

"Fine is all you will get. Deal with it," she chuckles. "And yes, I wasn't talking with that guy I was setting him straight. Bechare ne itna sunliya- you won't envy him if you were there from the beginning."

At that finally Anwar begins to smile.

"Sach?"

"He reckons he knows Babhi jaan!"

That gets Anwar's undivided attention, as belatedly he is reminded of the way Amrit had reacted to the sight of that man.

"Amrit?"

Rukzaar pulls back to look at him and nods.

"My uncle has become Chandra Singh Rathod's man it seems. Or maybe he always was. This guy works for both. Anyone Ali sahab holds in high regard is a man of very low morals. The way he talked about Babhi jaan - I wanted to hit him!"

"Did this guy mention a name?"

Rukzaar frowns.

"He said we know him - all of us have seen his name - whatever that means."

*
Well, you know what that means...😉
That being said, I'll be back again soon! Let me know how this part was by voting and commenting.
Thanks for reading!