I was on the train without a ticket, I closed my eyes and let the gentle rocking of the carriage lull me into a peaceful slumber. Suddenly, I heard a loud noise that jolted me awake. I opened my eyes and saw some men entering the cabin. They were wearing army uniforms, with the Indian flag on their shoulders. They were handcuffed and escorted by the police, who looked stern and hostile. I remembered the news I had seen on TV, about some prisoners of war being sent back to India.

Two of them started fighting, shouting and cursing at each other. I noticed one of them, who was pretending to sleep, remove a key from the policeman's pocket. It fell on the floor, and rolled near my leg. I had to get off soon, the ticket collector was coming. He would check my ticket and see that I had no money. He would throw me off the train, or worse. I had to escape. "Bas kuch ghanton ki baat hai, phir tum sab ka khel khatam," the policeman said, pointing at his gun. His voice was cold and cruel.

My eyes widened in horror. They were going to kill them. They were going to shoot them like dogs. I looked at their faces, and imagined their dead bodies. "Will their families ever know?" I thought. Did it matter, if they were Indians? Did it matter, when all our last forms will look the same. So many bodies lay in the morgue, unclaimed and forgotten. Would they end up there too? As the attendant fell asleep, I asked out of curiosity, "Hind se hai?" Their uniforms confirmed it, and they nodded. One of them, who was sitting close to me, whispered, "Uski paanch saal ki beti hai, agar aapne..." He motioned to the key near my leg. His eyes were pleading and desperate. I wasn't supposed to get involved, but I did.

I had no purpose in life, they did. They had families, friends, dreams. Nobody can fight their fate, their instincts. I couldn't escape mine. I handed him the key, and saw the ticket collector and the slowing train. My destination was outside. I cleared my throat and slowly got up. As I turned, I was blocked by the ticket collector in front of me.

"Ticket?" He asked, with a suspicious look. I stood there and slowly shook my head, "Nahi hai."

"Nahi hai? Aapko pata hai bina ticket safar karna jurm hai? You have to come with us to the station." He grabbed my arm and tried to drag me away. Before I could move, the soldier who sat closer to me stood in between us and pushed the TC away, "Run". He had freed himself and his friend. He was not running away, sacrificing his life. He wasn't fighting for his freedom, for his survival. Something took over me, I grabbed his wrist and started running.

He pulled me along, as we dodged the other passengers and the police. I ran, but my foot was aching. I had injured it while jumping off the first floor. The soldier stood and he knelt down, "Jaldi, warna dono pakda jayenge." He urged me to climb on his back. I glanced back, they were gaining on us. They had guns, we had nothing. I climbed on his back, and he started running. It would have looked funny, a soldier being chased and a woman on his back, but right now we were on the run. We were fugitives, outlaws, rebels. I admired his strength, his courage, his determination.

"How can you cross the border?" I asked. "I have no idea." He said. "Do you speak Punjabi?" I asked, as they were closing in on us. He laughed, "This is not the time for chit chat."

"Listen to me, run towards the crowd, I have a plan." I said, as I saw a market ahead. As we entered the crowd, I quickly started to remove my burqa. He stopped me, "You don't need to do this, this is your honor, don't take it off for anyone." He said, with respect and concern.

"They will recognize us, they know we are wearing an abaya and a soldier's uniform." I said, with urgency and fear. He sighed, "God will be upset." He said.

"When was he ever pleased? If he was, I wouldn't be in this situation." I said, with bitterness and anger. I removed my abaya and used the dupatta to cover my face. He quickly wore it, and we left the station. We blended in with the crowd, as we walked away from the chaos.

"How will you go back to India?" I asked. "We'll see..." He said, with hope and uncertainty.

"I can help you, I know someone who can help you cross the border. My fiance is the chief minister of Punjab." I said, with hesitation. He gave me a look, a mix of disbelief and gratitude. I sighed, "I'm telling the truth." I said, with honesty and regret. Maybe this man gave me a reason to seek help, otherwise, my ego and self-respect wouldn't have allowed me to seek him out. Maybe this man gave me a reason to live, otherwise, my grief and despair wouldn't have allowed me to survive.

"Aapka naam?"

"Captain Sahil Singh".

___

The mansion was huge, it could house about fifty people, Malika was in awe, so was Saahil.

"So Pakistani's are found of mansions too", he stated, she gave him a side eye, "Aren't you a soldier?"

"I am, I have seen the war, the hilltops. The pakistani soldiers, but I have never talked to one, you are my first pakistani", he said with a smile, Malika wanted to roll her eyes, but she stopped herself, reminding herself that she would have been in jail if not for him.

"And you are my first Indian", she said as they walked towards the gate, "Saahil don't speak, if you do, talk like a girl, keep your shoulders down, walk like a girl".

"Yes Ma'am", he almost saluted but stopped himself when she gave him a glare. How was this man in the army?He was about to be encountered, and he didn't seem to care. She admired his strength.

There was hustle bustle at the gate, she looked around, her eyes taking in the market. But she saw the soldiers, buff men were stationed at the gate, a gold plate that read the name, "Sajjad Ahmed Khan" was beside the gate.

"He does seem influencial", Sahil commented now imitating a shrilly voice, Malika controlled her laughter.

What was this man? A ball of sunshine.

"I will go enquire at the gate, don't move from here", and walked towards one of the guards, "Bibi kya kaam hai?"

"Woh mujhe Khan se milna tha", she replied.

"Chanda chahiye kya?" Did she look like a beggar, her eyes were wide and she was about to set this man straight, but she turned back and remembered a man's life was in line. She couldn't mess it up.

"Nahi mujhe Khan se milna hai", she didn't blame the man for mistaking her for a beggar, her appearance and clothes actually made her look like that.

"Kya kaam hai?" He asked again a little impatiently, he hated this back and forth with the woman here. This wasn't the first time an unknown woman had come to their door, the first time a woman was let in, and she had blamed Sajjad for fathering her kid knowing his reputation, he had thrown her out, "I never forget the faces of woman I have f*cked".

"I can't tell you, I have to talk to Khan", how could she tell a guard about her current predicament, that she had helped an Indian soldier escape the police custody. For some reason she had trust in Sajjad Khan, the folklores also talked about his patriotic spirit. Wouldn't that bring dishonour to their country's greatness that an Indian soldier was going to be killed without a fair trial?

As she was lost in her own thoughts a shoulder barged into her, pushing her far away, it was the soldier he acted as if she an object and along with her the people were pushed off too into a distant alleyway. All of them were lined up on either side of the streets, when a voice interuppted.

"Make way", the mass started to cheer calling his name, as she looked on with confusion. What was happening? More guards came out and formed a barricade with their bodies, one of them covering her line of sight.

Armed men entered, as a she heard the hooves of the horse, it got closer, she was hynotised by the view before her. People were actually crazy about Khan she realised, all those lores she heard they weren't exaggerated.

Where was that soldier?

She looked around for a tall man in burqa and saw him mesmerised by the scene, she quickly made her way to him and nudged him.

"Are these paid actors?" He asked in awe, she could imagine his mouth wide open. The large gate opened and she herself was unable to look away, "He is coming", the crowd chanted.

"Who is coming?" Saahil questioned, there was a silence, as a masked man on the horse exited the gate, his one hand holding the reign, she could barely see his features due to the mask.

But she saw his jawline, it was sharp. There was a mystery about him, his eyes they glanced at the street full of people and she shivered when it briefly stopped on her. And then he was gone with the wind.

"Was that your fiance?"

____

The two stood outside, as the day passed, talking about things, he was a gentle soul she realised.

"You don't believe that he is my fiance, do you?" She asked as they sat beside each other, it was cold she was shivering. Her leg, and head ache was killing her. She was hungry.

"I don't know... the guard didn't recognise you", he pointed it out and shrugged.

"I brought you to the chief minister's house, you could have escaped with your other friends, why did you stuck by me if you didn't believe that Sajjad Khan is my fiance?" She couldn't figure out this soldier, was he dumb?

"I mean I could get you killed".

There was darkness in the street so he removed his veil and she couldn't help but giggle as she saw the manly face.

"I don't care about my life, I care about yours, and even if you got me killed it's not like someone would shed tears at my memory...I am an orphan and anyway it is my duty to protect innocent civilians like you", there was melancholy his voice her eyes teared up at his words, and she wondered why was it always the kind ones that made her cry.

"I am an orphan too", she spoke up, "Saahil you're good man".

"You have a strong spirit Malika, if I had a sister she would have been exactly like you", he joked but Malika could recognise the lonliness in his voice that mirrored hers.

Her father, her mother, nobody had adressed her like this. Blood relations didn't matter, this unknown man seemed to care more about her then all her family combined. She felt a sweet bubbly feeling in her heart, "aaj se mai tumhari behen".

___

"There is a wall... we should climb it", Malika suggested, it was midnight she was shivering, hungry. They had sat outside the madrasa and received some food, but it wasn't enough for Malika. She was thirsty, she had tried to enter the madrasa asked for refuge but they had refused, it was an institution not a refugee house.

Saahil who had draped the Abayah on her and dupatta shrugged, "Lemme try", he stood up and she pulled him down.

"They will kill you if they saw your uniform", she pointed it put, he raised his brows, "And they won't shoot you, if you did the same?"

Would they shoot her?

There was a possiblity. But with Saahil it was a surety. He would be killed, a few hours had passed but she was already attached to him.

"It won't hurt to try...", she voiced out, "Instead of freezing to death, it would be better to try".

As she turned he sighed, "I will go with you, let's get killed together".

She stepped onto his back and peeked through the high wall, realising there were just trees. This meant success, they could reach Khan without getting caught as there were no guards stationed besides the high wall.

She pulled herself up and sat on the fence her foot on either side. She passed her hand to Saahil, but he didn't need it. She forgot he was trained for this, as he skillfully climbed and jumped on the other side without making any noise. He helped her down, the leaves made crunching sound so they stopped and looked around there was no one.

"I think we should walk behind the complex, run with me", he took her hand, he had completely forgotten about her sprained leg, so had she because halfway through the distance she collapsed on the ground, they were in the middle of the garden, they could be easily discovered. When he was about to help her when the sprinklers activated. They were on and about, wetting their clothes.

How unlucky were they?

More unlucky than they thought, "Malika com'on get-", before he could complete the sentence, he was punched so quickly that he fell on the ground. He hadn't had a proper meal, he was weak, he was tired. They were facing each other Malika and Saahil. Both getting drenched.

Saahil lost his conciousness, as he was hit on the head again. Malika couldn't move, it was the adrenalin the panic that froze her body, she was pulled up by her hair like a prop dummy, her face right above the sprinklers the water burning her eyes, she couldn't see the man, but she could see the gun in his hand.

"You have a pretty face", he commented and he placed the gun right above her head, "It's sad actually... I had a better use for you", he eyed her and sighed.

"Captain Sahil Singh, Sahib Hindustani hai".

One of the guards shouted for more security, another approached them, "Madam aapko maine kaha tha na Sahib aise kisise nhi milte", he said with a neutral face but there was a frown, there was a hint of kindness in his voice, it seemed like they were playing the good cop and bad cop with her.

"Kya maqsad tha aapka? Kisne bheja hai?" He kneeled giving the rude guard a signal, so he backed off, Malika slowly rose up and checked on Saahil, "Is he alive?"

"Yes he is, first answer my question. Who are you? And who sent you?"

Malika sighed, she eyed her ring finger and wondered if they would believe her words. It was her self respect that was stopping her from speaking up.

"I have to talk to Khan", she pleaded, he looked into her eyes and then at the others as if contemplating something.

"Mehmoud take them", there was an instant relief when she heard his words.

But she didn't realise he meant to the dungeon. Saahil wasn't with her she was all alone in the dark, by herself.

It was deja vu, but this time she wasn't tied by chains, she heard a rat and screamed.

It was too dark ans scary. She felt as if she was blind. She could see nothing, keeping her eyes close or open both felt the same.

There was no light, how old was this dungeon she wondered, had someone died here. Was she going to rot here? These questions made her claustrophobic, it was suffocating, her chest felt heavy it was hard to breathe.

Where was Saahil? Was he even alive?

She didn't realise when but fortunately she fell asleep, and when she woke up it wasn't dark anymore. She could see the light, the dungeon was suprisingly clean, there was a window but it was too high.

There was food for her, she dashed towards the plate and gulped down the food within minutes.

She was sitting there looking outside the window, when she heard footsteps, she turned around so a pair of leather boots were closer to her horizontal self. A man was looking down on her, standing over her in all his glory. She could sense the authority he had.

His presence itself making her feel insignificant. As her gaze travelled higher she couldn't help but gulp her saliva, how can a man be so rugged she wondered. His eyes were so piercing darkened by the black surma, as if blazing fire at her. He was eyeing her just like she was, and she knew what he saw. A pathetic mess, a woman with torn up Abayah.

His jaw was clenched, his lips pressed into a thin line. He had a stubble that gave him a rough look, accentuating his sharp features. His hair was messy, falling over his forehead. He wore a white kurta and rose coloured lucknowi jacket adding to his intimidating aura.

He leant down so he could reach for her, she couldn't help but flinch, he retracted his hands but bent towards her as if he wanted to take a better look at her from whatever her Niqaab could reveal.

She felt his breath on her face, hot and heavy. She wanted to look away, but his eyes held her captive. They were like two pools of darkness, hiding secrets and emotions. She wondered what he was thinking, what he wanted from her. She felt a surge of fear, mixed with curiosity and confusion.

Spending in a night all alone in a dungeon might have done this to her, "Who are you?" He asked his eyes darkened threatening her, that's when she remembered her purpose.

"Is he alive?" She asked in panic, her eyes searching his for answers when he chuckled.

"He is dead", he shrugged, she felt an omnious aura surround her like a grim reaper as the head of the gun was now pointed towards her neck. He pulled her by her elbow so she was kneeling, one click and he could make a hole in her wind pipe. She couldn't even gulp in fear, she heard nothing, the fear of death held her captive as she struggled to understand his words.

His gaze came flashing down to her in dominance. He was dangerous. This man was trouble. She could feel it in her bones, her intuition told her that he could rip her into pieces.

And then his words finally registered in her brain, "You killed him?" She asked out loud and he grinned showing his teeth.

"Yes", he whispered and she felt a shiver run down her spine. What was wrong with this man? What was wrong with her? Nothing made sense. All of it was like a fever dream.

She closed her eyes, ready to accept death, as he now pointed it at her head, "Who are you?"

She sighed... did it matter now? It didn't.
Tears spilled down her eyes, the man for whom she sneaked into this mansion was dead. She had no motive to live, "Kill me", she ordered him, she didn't wanted to live. Saahil was dead because of her. She was the reason. They were supposed to die together.

"You are shedding tears for a rat?"

"What?"

His eyes shifted to the ground and there she saw it a dead rat, squished under his pointy shoes, her stomach revolted and she threw up on his leather shoes.

Her vision turned blurry as he caught her wrist, saving her from falling headfirst into her own vommit.

The next time she woke up, she was no longer in a dungeon but a room, she glanced at the side and saw an IV attached to her, her ankle was gauzed up along with her head.

Her eyes went to the chair and she almost screamed, the man from the dungeon was sitting there staring at her.

It wasn't a creepy stare, it was more of a child looking at his maths homework or a person trying to solve a rubrics cube.

"That soldier is alive... now tell me who are you?" He questioned, she sighed and shook her head. She wasn't stupid, how could she believe his words, it seemed as if her identity was important to him.

"Not until I see him", she was curious about this man as well, who was he? Whoever he was, she knew she couldn't mess with him.

He pulled the curtain behind her and there he was, his head bandaged.

"Tell me"

"Malika Shahzad Alam, Sajjad Khan's fiance", he gave no reaction just laughed, his pearly white teeth peeked and his lips curved into a smile, "Ofcourse".

"You are the fifth girl claiming to be his fiance, how can I believe you? Do you have any proof?"

She removed the gold ring from her finger and showed it to him, the crystal shining bright as he leaned closer, "Back off", she warned.

"I am just checking if it's real", he said with a smug look.

"You have recognized the ring, stop playing around", she shook his hand off and slid the ring back into her finger. His eyes were trained on her movements, "You are clever", he remarked.

"I have to meet him", she said her eyes travelling to the wounded man on the bed beside her, "I have something to discuss".

"You can tell me, I will pass it onto him".

"No need for that, I will talk to him directly", she said ripping away the IV from her hand, he caught her hand and she pushed it off, walking out of the infirmatory.

"Woh yaha nahi hai magar (He isn't here)", he called out after stopping her in her tracks, "Then where is he?"

"I can't reveal that, but he will be back in a week", he said with a serious face.

"Oh...", she wanted to leave but Saahil was laying in the ward, she couldn't leave him behind.

Sacrificing her self respect and dignity she asked, "Can I stay here until Khan returns? I will not be a burden I promise, I will help around the house until he returns".

"This mansion has enough servants", it hurt for some reason.

"I will leave then-"

He cut her off, "You entered the mansion by your own freewill, but you can only leave it when I allow it"

"And who are you to command me?" He stepped closer to her towering her, his gaze fixed on her eyes, he liked having power over others, she realised.

"I am his left hand, Hunaid Ali Jatoi. Murtuza!" He called out as a young man with kind eyes entered.

"I want you to arrange a room for our guest here".

She didn't refuse, bed was all she needed right now. It has been days since she last slept on a bed, the very thought of it made her excited, she followed Murtuza towards the room, "You can stay here until your room is ready", there was a cupboard, a large dresser, a ceiling fan and a comfortable looking soft bed that was calling for her.

She felt the soft surface and as soon as her head touched the soft surface she passed out.

___

"Why did you lie?" Murtuza questioned him, Hunaid aka Sajjad replied, "I wanted to test her, let's see how long she will maintain this innocent image of hers".