Tapish تپش

two

It was a couple of months later that Rayyan saw him. Him. The villain of his life.

He didn't know his name, but he wanted to kill him. Scratch his eyes out for gazing at his woman. Break his hands for touching his woman. God he was murderous!

In the past few months, all he did was  ask himself where he went wrong. What did his affection lack that she had to seek solace in another man's arms? Was he not good enough?

Being away from home helped him in hiding his misery and heartbreak courtesy his philandering wife.

Whenever his mama called and asked to talk to her laado, her bahu; he had to make up some wild excuses. And bless his Mama's heart, she always believed him.

That vile woman has him duping his family.

The man was sitting so leisurely as if he had not snatched away his world. He marched up to him and despite his vengeful emotions, sat down calmly next to him. To his credit, the man didn't look the least bit startled. Amused yes.

"So, how are you enjoying my spoils? Kind of a bummer that you didn't get her first, yeah? But at least you're the one who got her pregnant, so kudos on that. Did she not come with you? Or are you ashamed to bring her out in public? Didn't have a problem that day." 

Thoroughly confused, he looked up at Rayyan and said,"We haven't met before, ever. I think you have me confused with another. And even if you did, it's not a nice thing to slander your woman's character. Especially not in public. Now how can I help you?"

"You can keep the drama for the missus we share."

This earned him a punch in the face.

"You can bad-mouth your wife to your heart's content, but don't you dare utter my wife's name with that filthy mouth of yours!"

Just then a very heavily pregnant woman came waddling to them. She stood by the man's side and calmed him down.

"Hello, my name is Myra Abrar, and this is my husband Abrar Rashid. What can we do for you?"

Her tone was polite but her eyes were challenging him to say anything rude.

He was now perplexed. Wife? Did his eyes deceive him that day?

"You're his wife? You?" He whispered.

"Did she stutter? Of course she is" Abrar bellowed.

"Calm down darling, I think he has us jumbled up with someone else. So Mr....?" Myra rubbed her husband's arms and looked at him questioningly.

"Rayyan Hamdaani."

He was lost for words. Why did it suddenly feel like he's committed a grave sin. He sat down on the chair. The Cafe's cool atmosphere suddenly felt suffocating.

Just to clear up his muddled brain he drank a glass of water in one go. He was on the brink of going insane. But he had to be sure. He had to ask.

" A couple of months ago, did you two happen to be engrossed in an embrace in front of a hospital?"

This earned him a shocked outrage from Abrar "How is that any of your business?"

"Please indulge me here for a minute, my life's at stake."

Gone was the pompous man, in place was a man desperate for some reprieve.

"Not that it should concern you, but yes. My wife was coming out of the hospital and since it was raining slightly, the steps were wet. She lost her footing and was about to fall..."
he trailed off and couldn't complete that sentence as he visibly shuddered, recalling that horrible memory.

Myra rubbed his arms and consoled him, " That's okay Darling."
Turning to Rayyan she continued,"I was about to fall to what could possibly have meant the death of our baby, this woman caught hold of my hand and pulled me up. She was literally a guardian angel. Helped me sit and wrapped her shawl around me as I was shaking with the possibility of what could have happened. To distract me she kept on rambling about the story behind it. How her husband got it for her and threatened the artist within an inch of his life if he sees a replica of the shawl anywhere. By then Abrar who was parking the car came back. Seeing me all rattled he just took me in his arms. Does that satisfy your queries?"

Oh God what had he done! Oh God!
His wife. His child. He chucked them out in the rain. Called them names. Oh Allah he has committed a sin. Unforgivable one at that.

"Oh Duaa! My sweet little wife. Oh my baby."

This earned him another punch. This time around it was Myra.

"You are her Husband? You deserve to be in the deepest pits of hell. She doesn't need you. Oh God that poor girl. Oh Allah! How she has suffered at your hands" She screamed at him.

"Breathe sweetheart. It's not good for the baby. Calm down" Abrar pulled her in his arms.

Looking at them made him aware of his own behavior. He is the worst kind of bastard there is.

Oh Allah! He had called his child that. That vile word.

He needed answers. Once again he was at the mercy of this kind couple who somehow found their way in his life. He pleaded to their better nature and finally Abrar relented.

"Two weeks ago we visited the local homeless shelter. We were there to distribute alms. My mom said it's sadkaa to ward off evil eyes from Myra and our baby. And what did we see there but Duaa dressed in rags and working. She was washing the dirty vessels. But what was heart wrenching was that she was scraping left over food and eating it. That shocked us. The woman who had an expensive one of a kind garment was now feeding off of someone's leftovers! This didn't settle well with us. We took her aside and demanded answers. She was so embarrassed. But she refused any help. So we go there every day with food and clothes for everyone so that she accepts it too."

Myra's crying session had ceased by now but she was still emotional.

"Your wife, your pregnant wife who should be pampered in this stage; was washing dishes. Us women have cravings during this time and the poor soul didn't even have food to feed her child. And yet she was grateful for whatever little that was given. I hope you don't get a place even in hell you scumbag."

That was it for Rayyan. That broke him. He didn't care about his surroundings and burst into sobs. He fell on his knees and kept on crying. What had he done!