11 AM. A monday morning. The life on hiatus got its usual zest back. The offices started ringing with phone calls, Tap tap of the keyboard, the roads were flowing with traffic, schools were back to being filled with students. All in all, Monday had brought back the busy normality.

But not everything was that normal. The news channels were flashing with red bars of breaking news. An important political case was going to get its final verdict today.

"As we've been reporting since the fiasco started, this is a memorable day not only for us but also for all of the people of this country. History hasn't seen situations like this often. Influential families are usually tight knitted but here we had our interest piqued when a grandson came forward to win justice not only for himself but also for all the people his grandfather has wronged. Today is important because from here on the political scenario will change. The right decision can restore people's faith in our distorted judicial system. Also, people are rooting for their hero, the one they have been supporting since day one. Let's just say this judgement is of historical importance."

An analyst was giving his opinion sitting in front of the camera. This was the story on every news channel. While waiting for the decision, expert opinions were also being sought.

Yasir Athar folded his arms in his chest. A look of deep concentration was etched on his face. He was told this was his career's most important case and he hadn't denied it. This was the most twisted yet most transparent case to his credit. Now, sitting there waiting for the final judgement to come, Yasir reflected on the whole journey.

Honadir Sahni's biggest flaw was his narcissism. It killed him. He had thought like always, Yahya Duraid would dance on his tunes but that was a misconception. His cold dead body in its own blood laying on the floor was mocking him. That was the last mistake on Yahya Duraid's part. He didn't get to do anything more. The police had taken him in their custody. The case had taken a new turn. The next hearing was going to be an important one. Yasir was aware of the upper hand they had gotten once again. But still he had prepared well.

Ismail Ali's conscience had won. He had presented himself before the court. Harram's call record had already proved her claim was right and Ismail Ali's statement further strengthened it.

The new proofs were also given to the court. Sultan Bakht's life work, the thing he died for. The years old Pandora boxes were opened and the skeletons within had everyone shook.

From smuggling to being involved in terrorist attacks funded by foreign agencies, Yahya Duraid, Honadir Sahni and Khalid Aslam had a colorful record going on for them. Honadir was buried as a nobody. The man had no family, only billions to his name which were not able to buy him a respectable funeral.

The remaining people of this oldie gang were going to have their fate decided in just a few minutes. Yasir Athar glanced at the clock. The end to the chapter was near. Almost upon them.

______________

"We're giving you the breaking news! The verdict for the Yahya Duraid case has come! We're exclusively reporting this before any other channel! Yahya Duraid had been given life time imprisonment! Yahya Duraid the famous politician and businessman has been sentenced to life time imprisonment. The accomplice in this case General Khalid Aslam is in military custody and a court martial awaits him according to army laws. This kind of treason always ends up in death penalty. We will keep you posted on that. The third person involved, Honadir Sahni was killed by Yahya Duraid three days back! Yahya Duraid's son, Ismail Ali has also been subjected to seven years in prison! We are breaking this to you..."

The outside of the courtroom was nothing short of a celebratory procession. Yasir Athar was surrounded by his fellow lawyers. They all were congratulating him on this huge success. He was so busy being the part of the joy making that he didn't realize the person sitting beside him had long slipped from there without making any noise.

The police constables opened the courtroom door leading straight to the prisoner van. Hair a matted mess of silver and black, handcuffs instead of cuff-links and days old creased clothes. This profile of Yahya Duraid wasn't him in any way. The only indication that it was indeed him was his face, the usual brightness of which had gone. He was being hauled to the vehicle, just like all those months back someone else was hauled into the basement of his house. The same someone who was standing to the side away from prying eyes. Yahya Duraid stopped for a moment and titled his face sideways. His eyes met those which were already fixed at him. Instances from the past flashed across the curtains of knowing. The distance between was carrying centuries in it.

"So it's decided, bringing you here has proven futile."

Zaviyar chuckled making himself comfortable on the bench. The comfortable atmosphere of the park at this hour with no human in sight was soothing. The morning was pleasantly cold.

"PMA is waiting for me, Abu."

"So is the family business. You and Hamail can take this forward from here."

"Not again, Abu. You might be a good negotiator but you won't convince me. I'm not cut out for business. Let me follow the path my heart desires."

"Even if I stop you, you won't listen to me. I was just trying my luck once again. Wishful thinking."

"Now now, being sentimental and getting things done is so Dado's thing. You people are acting as if I'm moving away from the family. My heart is always where you all are."

Yahya looked at his young grandson. He was like his father but still his distinct features stood him apart.

"When life paths get separated, the hearts are bound to do the same at some point."

"Not happening. You'll see years from now no matter what and where I'm, I'll still be your favourite grandchild and you'll still be my Abu."

"Let's hope you stay true to this idea you are putting in my head."

The distant reverberations had eased. The prisoner van roared to life, leaving behind the smoke of burnt dreams. Life had gotten a new meaning. The present was filling the cracks and the past was just in echoes.

__________________

The men had pushed him inside the dark cell closing it behind. The lock clanked the voice of which felt on the chipped walls. Yahya stood against the bars closing his eyes. The footsteps right outside were getting closer. When they halted right outside of the cell door Yahya looked up. He couldn't say he wasn't expecting his first visitor to be him only.

"You should be celebrating right now and this is no place for that."

Zaviyar pushed his hands in his pockets and stayed quiet. His calculating eyes were boring in Yahya's profile.

"I'm sure you aren't happy with the verdict. Must've felt I deserved to be hanged."

"Unlike you It's not my place to dictate the court, take the law in my hand. I asked for justice, proved that I was deserving and got it. This isn't what you're used to. Seeing how for the first time you couldn't get away from something and where it landed you should be eye opening. What I do think undeserving was what Sahni got. You shouldn't have killed him. It was an easy death. Way too minute in front of the heap of his wrongdoings."

Yahya laughed lightly.

"You know what's the one emotion I never saw on Sahni's face? Fear. He feared no one. Nothing. But in that dungeon when he was persuading me, in his usual way may I add, I saw it. A hint of uncertainty bordering on fear. I knew this was it. I cherished that look on his face and trust me he deserved it!"

He covered his face with his palms and left out a sigh. Zaviyar was still silent. But for how long?

"You love my father so much that years after his death you still murdered his killer. What happened when it came to me? I was his son only."

There was a complete silence for a few seconds.

"You think I didn't love you? I didn't try to save you? Imagine being left on Honadir's brutality if you weren't my grandson."

"So you thought let's not kill him but make him seem so in everyone's eyes and turn him into something he himself can't recognize."

"It saved you, didn't it?"

"It saved your neck as well."

Yahya shrugged his shoulders.

"We all do what we must."

"Still, you were irrational in killing Sahni off like this."

"I've been told I'm pretty loose at head when it comes to family. I was also when you were in question and see what you did to me."

He gestured around. Zaviyar took a step forward and stood face to face with him. The bars between them made all the difference, and told the whole story.

"Well, we all do what we must."

Yahya's face broke into a sardonic smile.

"Told you, different paths would part our hearts as well."

"Different choices. We both made those pretty clear. Goodbye Yahya Duraid."

He took two steps back.

"Goodbye, Major Zaviyar Ali."

The receding footsteps were echoing in the silent place, the reverberations of a grandfather and grandson were mingling with it forming a symphony of farewell.

_________________

Even before opening her eyes, she could feel the soft touch that meant only love and protection. Her vision adjusted to the dim lighting in the room. As she tried getting up, the fading bruise on her arm stung making her hiss softly.

"It's healing very slowly."

Zaviyar held her wrist in his hand examining the spot.

"It is."

Harram's eyes were glued to his face.

"I overslept again."

"Fine with me. You should catch up on all the rest you couldn't get."

He wasn't looking right into her eyes. Harram slowly held his cheek turning his face towards her.

"Don't bottle it up. Tell me how are you feeling?"

Zaviyar took a shuddering breath. His hand enclosed hers. He had vowed to himself she was done being a part of all this. Her contorted in pain face in that hospital room was etched onto his memory. That night was nothing short of a nightmare.

From Honadir Sahni's death to Yahya Duraid's arrest, nothing had shaken Zaviyar like the unconscious Harram in his arms. The doctor was livid. This was the limit for an already complicated pregnancy. The emotional toll of first being abducted and then witnessing a murder right in front of her eyes had its effects on Harram. She was advised complete bed rest and Zaviyar made sure it was followed strictly. He made her health his top priority. What happened outside was his problem not hers and for the first time Harram listened to him and everyone around her. Without causing much fuss she had restored to the bed switching the world out.

But this didn't mean she was unaware of the battle Zaviyar was on the verge of winning. Today was the day. As Zaviyar got ready for the hearing this morning, Harram had prayed earnestly for things to go in his favour, though there weren't any surprises in this case anymore. Everything was crystal clear in front of the public.

Zaviyar was solemn. Harram didn't have to guess why. This would've been the happiest day for any other rival of Yahya Duraid but this one was his grandson as well and it made all the difference. Not only Zaviyar, everyone else was also both relieved and grieved. This wasn't any ideal situation. The tale of difficulties for both Harram and Zaviyar wasn't something to take lightly. The price paid for this day to fall upon them was heavy. But no matter how sad it makes you, endings are there to stay. Farewell isn't easy but it's inevitable.

"You won."

"But it doesn't feel like winning."

"It was never supposed to."

Zaviyar's gaze fell from her tired eyes to her sunken face. These days should've been the most relaxing phase of her life but here she was, physically exhausted, mentally disturbed but still making sure he wasn't facing everything alone.

"Those days when I was ignoring my feelings for you, pushing you away but you were still pulling me in without even trying, those days feel centuries behind. These past few months were never in our timeline but were made our destiny. We thought life couldn't get much more complicated than our feelings back then and see where we are."

Harram moved to the side and gestured to him to lay down. Zaviyar did as he was told.

"The past is never leaving us alone, Zaviyar. It's going to be here with us like an uninvited guest. This is something we have to accept. The things we've seen, situations we've faced, all that have led up here. And to think of it, here is better."

She rested her head on his chest. His hand was moving up and down her arm. The tiredness of eons was slowly permeating into nothingness.

"Our lives are going to be like those scotch taped pieces of a whole. The cracks, the crevices are never going to be filled. But we can make it work. Taking all the people we love along. Let's try building this new foundation with love, Zaviyar. No one should be left behind. We make sure of it. We have things to be thankful for. At least all of us made it out of it. It's time to look at the bright side. Try! It's not that hard."

She held his hand and placed it on her bump. The small thumps that Zaviyar felt were like a beat of a new future awaiting him. Pulling Harram close, he kissed her forehead lightly. Both closed their eyes savouring the feeling of this moment at last.

The world outside was celebrating for them. But they were feeling their home once again. They had walked miles. Now they needed this rest.

Aur ab ye sari mata e hasti

Ye phool ye zakham sab tere hain

Ye dukh kay noohe, ye sukh kay naghme

Ye kal mere thay wo abh tere hain

Jo teri qurbat teri judai mein

Kat gaye roz o shabb tere hain

(Now all my life's worth

All the flowers and the thorns are yours

The wails for grief, the melody of joy

They were once mine now they are yours

The days and night i spent away from you

They all are yours)

________________________

When Harram and Zaviyar came out of their room, it was already evening and the house was filled with people without whom this struggle would've never gotten its fruit.

Zara and Obaid had been standing looking at their daughter and son in law. Two people who were sent to hell but pushed their way through the love and understanding they had for each other. Zaviyar and Harram weren't less thankful. This support had been instrumental in this battle.

Khadija and Palwisha, both the women, had tears of joy shining in their eyes. Somewhere, their husbands were happy as well, they were sure of it. Love and truth have a way of making their presence known. No matter how bleak the circumstances are.

Hamail's bandaged forehead wasn't the only indication of his part in this long ordeal. He had been there against everything he had believed all his life. He chose the truth when he could easily run towards the easy way. He could've lost so much. He still had. Both him and Sohaira had their father behind the bars. But this family including Gull had their priorities straight since the very beginning.

Then there was Waleed, a friend Zaviyar was forever grateful for. The guy hadn't cared for anything. Just the fact that his friend needed him. To some distance, Muskan was standing leaning against the wall. Even after being subjected to the malicious world for so long, she chose to fight against it when the opportunity came. In the process her own demons were catching up to her but she hadn't cared much.

These people had made this journey worth every hardship. They stood by both Zaviyar and Harram playing their parts with complete honesty.

This was what Yahya Duraid didn't have, trust and honesty. Honadir Sahni had stabbed him in the back and Yahya found out about it after twenty five long years. They thought together they all were invincible but they had done nothing but betraying each other. All of them so hell bent upon saving themselves they didn't care for the other.

Seeing all his people around him had made him realize what Harram actually meant when she said not all was lost. This was all he had now and it was more than enough. But still there was a piercing in his heart. Something was amiss.

The stillness around him had indicated how silent everyone had gone. His face turned in the direction of the door and he understood what was missing from this almost perfect picture.

Mrs. Aneesa was looking right at him. Her eyes were shining with unshed tears, tears she had felt falling on her heart like burning drops of lead. Her feet slowed not knowing how to take it from here. Was she even welcomed?

Zaviyar smiled through his pain and covered the distance between him and his grandmother. Mrs. Aneesa embraced him and that's when her sobs started racking her body. There was so much to cry on amidst the things to be happy about.

"Zaviyar..."

"It's okay. It's all okay, Dado."

Over Zaviyar's shoulder, Mrs. Aneesa's eyes found Harram. A sorry was on the tip of her tongue but Harram shook her head. In relations bound with love, apologies aren't needed.

The house in Pindi cantonment was illuminated with light of love and just love after so long.

_____________

The old oak tree in the lawn let another leaf to fall and find its destiny in the vastness of the soil beneath. The still grass ended close to the perched up entrance into the huge mahogany doors which opened with a creak but inside was nothing once people called the magnificent Duraid House.

The white sheets thrown over the furniture, the empty room where stillness was wailing without being heard, the air being the only occupant in and out of the premises. Those who had gone were never coming back. This house was never going to live again in its meaningful form. The echoes of what it once was, were its only solace. Making sure everything remaining was at its place the doors shut with a lock thrown over them. The end of an age, a sentiment, an emotion, a curse. Duraid House.

"Are you sure you want this?"

Hamail was eyeing his grandmother with uncertainty. Mrs. Aneesa was as calm as she was talking about the weather. Zaviyar was silent. He hadn't said anything about this ongoing matter.

Yahya Duraid's legal advisor had called upon them and opened the discussion of the property and assets distribution as he was instructed by Yahya before going in the prison. Duraid House was on Mrs. Aneesa's name and she had asked for it to be locked for indefinite time.

"Family turns a house into a home, Hamail. There's no family left here. You mother was never fond of this place and you've settled somewhere else also. I won't force any of you to do something you don't want to. I'm done doing that. As far as my choice is concerned, I like it there at Ansa's and if I ever miss you all, I'll either call you or ask you to come and meet me."

Her reasoning was justified. No matter the happy memories but this house had turned toxic for so many of them. The company had also come under Mrs. Aneesa's name. The house and the company, well Yahya Duraid was smart to have them under Mrs. Aneesa's name. Seeing how his other assets were being confiscated, he had saved the damage which was sure to come. But too bad no one, even Mrs. Aneesa wasn't happy about the possession of these things.

"As far as the company is concerned, Hamail I want you to run it."

She had dropped a bomb taking Hamail off guard.

"Dado? Me?"

"Yes, you. I can't think of anyone else who can do this."

"Dado, I....Bhai!"

He looked at Zaviyar clearly asking for help who raised an eyebrow.

"What's the problem, I think it's a good idea. No matter what but your father worked hard for this business, somewhere my father as well. We can't let all this go to waste. Start from scratch. You've always wanted your own thing, this is as close to that. Make changes, bring in transparent policies, which you deem right, clean this money. You can do this, Hamail. I have full faith in you."

Hamail's shock was wearing off. He could see what Zaviyar and Mrs. Aneesa meant. Uprooting all the ties wasn't possible. They had to start somewhere. This was that point.

Mrs. Aneesa saw Hamail's thoughtful face and picked up the box the lawyer had brought with him. Zaviyar's expressions had gotten grim. This was left for him by Yahya Duraid.

Zaviyar slowly lifted the lid with an impassive face. He wasn't expecting anything from that man, not after their last meeting. Was there any emotional bonding left for him to send something from his possessions to Zaviyar? It just didn't make sense.

The inside of the box was mostly empty sans a photo frame which was upside down. Zaviyar picked it up with steady hands and turned it around.

For a few seconds there was complete silence around the three people standing in the room. Mrs. Aneesa who had gotten a good look at what the frame contained held onto Zaviyar's arm gazing at the thing in his hand.

There were two young lads smiling up at the camera. Both were in their best suits. Zaigham Ali and Sultan Bakht.

"Yahya got it removed from your father's cabin after he had left the company. He always talked about discarding it, never quite fond of it as you can tell. But something always stopped him."

Mrs. Aneesa recounted wiping her tears. The goodbye from that day was flashing in front of Zaviyar. An army officer and a convicted criminal had said their last words to each other. Today, through this photo, a farewell had been exchanged between a grandson and a grandfather.

The two people in this frame tried their best fighting Yahya but failed. And the person Yahya had forwarded this photo to, had been the one to take their legacy forward, finishing off the work they had left behind. Yahya Duraid was accepting his defeat and this was the closure Zaviyar didn't know he needed. He held the photo frame close to his heart. With glassy eyes he just prayed for these two friends to be in peace, wherever they were. After all the justice had been served. It took its time but at last it did.

_________________

All his life, Zaviyar had never thought something as mundane as counting steps would bring him such calm. But walking on the familiar pavement inside the GHQ had him smiling. His gaze was settled on the door of the office right ahead of him. The cherished warmth of his uniform even in this heated weather was comforting. As he pushed the door open after getting the cue, he could feel normality hitting him in waves. The person sitting on his chair looked from the documents he was reading.

"Sir!"

A salute, an acknowledging nod and a gesture for him to take the seat. Yes, normal was finally infusing in.

"Seeing our previous meeting I can say I'm partial towards this setting."

Bukhari looked around his office with relief.

"It's good to see you back, Sir."

"It's good to be back but having my most trusted officer returning to his position tops the ongoing charm of good."

Zaviyar smiled. He had no objections to what Bukhari was saying because it was the truth.

"I'm quite surprised. You are back back to work rather quickly."

"I can say the same about you."

A hearty laugh was Bukhari's answer. Contrary to countless encounters they had had in this cabin, this one had a more easy going energy to it rather than the same strictness and military decorum.

"You've been braver than many would be in your position, Zaviyar. Your family has been supportive, even helpful. You deserve a respite from all this. The wounds are still fresh."

"They are and to be honest I'm not looking forward to them healing. They won't be. So, in times like this, going back to the normal is what I'm trying to do."

"That's a good way to restart. Well, there's no dearth of work for an army officer. I should assign you something then."

"There's a request though."

Colonel Bukhari looked up, raising an eyebrow.

" I want to stay in Islamabad for some months. We've had quite a time apart, me and my family. I want to stay close to them now."

There was a time this would've made Bukhari wary but not anymore. He knew this loyal man in front of him deserved this.

"Consider it done. I want you reporting tomorrow itself."

"I actually came for work today."

There was a hint of a smile on Bukhari's face. The ever hard working Zaviyar Ali.

"Let's get to work then."

____________________

Muskan's eyes roamed around at the happy faces of the kids. Full tummies and new clothes really make a difference. She had been informed of the aid coming but she hadn't believed it. Who'd care to keep these kids and their mothers in mind. This part of the society isn't what people bat even an eyelash to. But it seemed like someone had a role to play here.

"You really have something to do with it!"

Zaviyar and Waleed just smiled in return.

"This is nothing. We'd love to help more."

"Nothing? Look at their faces!"

She was herself beaming like them. How selfless her sentiments for these kids were. Zaviyar wished to do more for this neglected part of the community. He was trying for Honadir's money to be given to these people. They deserved it because he, after all had a role to play in their sorry state.

Harram had promised Muskan she wasn't going back to that state every again where there was only defamation and nullification of her being. Where she wasn't considered as human but just a vessel for a man. She stayed true to it. Muskan had joined an NGO on Harram's guidance. Those people were eager to work for the sex workers and to improve their quality of life. The funding had come for all of them and it was never stopping soon.

"I really can't thank all of you enough. Not only for the kids but for me also. You guys showed me the light I was looking for so long. Thank you! Really from the bottom of my heart."

How innocent and genuine her reason of happiness was. The world was so harsh to these people it was heartbreaking. Waleed and Zaviyar vowed to do more.

"You're extra silent today. Doesn't really suit you."

Zaviyar commented once they were inside their car and moving towards their base. Waleed sighed again. He was looking on the verge of losing his patience.

"What?"

Zaviyar asked once again.

"Hira says I can come back."

Zaviyar fought back a chuckle. Hira was Waleed's wife and the only person who could drive him mad, even more than he already was. She'd always had difficulty adjusting to military lifestyle. The main reason why she and Waleed were almost always fighting. This time around it had gotten serious. Hira had kicked Waleed out of the house and for a week he was staying at Zaviyar's. Waleed's mother was siding with her daughter in law. It was no surprise, Hira was her beloved niece whom she often preferred over her son.

"So? What's stopping you? Besides, my place isn't a guest house where you don't even pay for anything."

"Hey! I help Khadija auntie cook meals everyday!"

"Should've shown the sentiment to Hira as well. By the way, we kind of knew she was going to call you in."

"And may I know how?"

"She called Harram and since my wife is kind of a master of solving issues, she convinced Hira that you are a good guy. Lying isn't taking us anywhere but it will take you back to your place and that's what I want the most."

Waleed made a face but deep down he was relieved. Knowing Harram and how thoughtful she was, Waleed knew things with Hira were finally going to be settled. He had started missing home as well. And his wife also. The fighting too. No! That should be toned down now.

They were entering ICT when Zaviyar's phone rang. His changing expressions had Waleed straighten up.

"What?"

Zaviyar increased the speed of the car as if in great hurry.

"Harram's in the hospital."

"Isn't it a bit early?"

"It is."

Zaviyar's worry had started showing. Waleed patted his shoulder. The car zoomed on the road leading to the hospital.

__________________

"This was expected out of this pregnancy, Zaviyar. No matter the rest and the good care for last few months, still this was kind of what I was hoping against. The baby isn't getting the oxygen. We have to rush. I won't suggest a c-section. It will ease Harram but can harm the chances of baby's survival. It's up to her if she wants to take the risk or go for a normal delivery which undoubtedly will put her through massive strain as it does normally."

Zaviyar listened to every word of the doctor attentively. Even before asking Harram, he knew she'd opt for a normal delivery. She wouldn't put the baby at the risk no matter what. And that's what she chose. The doctor was preparing to start the procedure when Zaviyar walked into the room. Zara and Khadija were already by her side. Her pains had been induced and the small contractions were making her hiss every now and then.

"See, Zaviyar is also here. Everything is going to be just alright."

Zara assured her daughter who just shook her head. She extended her arm. Zaviyar reached her in two long strides.

"It's going to be okay! You are going to be okay."

"I hope I will. This is so painful and the real thing hasn't even started yet!"

She wheezed, making Zaviyar jerk with worry. Zara and Khadija had slipped through the door giving them privacy.

"If I knew this is what it feels like, I would've never let you touch me, Major!"

Zaviyar shook his head.

"Seriously? Right now?"

"Yeah! Because this is the only time I can remind myself of how I'm not doing this again! Once we are outta here you'll sure as hell lure me in again!"

Her pain was making her blabber but it was more like venting.

Zaviyar held her hand, not saying anything to contradict her. An argument at this time and place? Only Harram.

Her pain had intensified. The nurse checked her vitals and gestured to Zaviyar to move. She was pretty accustomed to this. Husbands don't usually linger around to see their wives crying on top of their voices. Zaviyar looked at the nurse and then at Harram who had clutched his hand like her life depended on it. She was sweating profusely by now. Khadija and Zara were there just beside her. Zaviyar looked around and then at her who was going through the most agonizing physical pain of her life. He ignored the elderly nurse's scowl and kept on sitting firmly on his seat.

"We'll make it through. I'm here and will remain so till it ends. You can do this, Harram! You can!"

"Whom are you kidding? Only I can do this! I hate you, Major!"

He welcomed the insult with open arms.

______________

The atmosphere around GHQ was charged. The special ceremony held on the independence day to give accolades to the heroes of the nation had just begun. People from different walks of life were sitting in the audience stands while men and women of valor and courage were being applauded for never backing away from any challenge be it internal or external.

"These are the people who ensure that the nation sleeps peacefully every night. They take the responsibility of the masses on their shoulders, still their feet never waver. They look the enemy in the eye, ready to sacrifice whatever they hold dear just to give the homeland the protection they had promised it. These humans of iron with morale as high as mountains, are as invincible as the water of the Indus river, as strong as the peaks of Karakorum, and as hard to break as the spirit of Baluchistan. They are us and we are them. To these sons of the motherland we say Zindabad!"

The president was awarding for the services towards the homeland. Each face coming forward had a story to tell, the one echoing in their families sitting behind them in the stands, filled with struggle and patience, pain and longing, truth and realities.

Zaviyar felt the weight of the medal like it was made of clouds. His eyes were staring ahead, the military man in him in full control. The president had smiled at him. He was among the few who had been called at the last with tumultuous applause around. Almost everyone around him knew his fight and how he had won it. As he left to stand with his unit, the air had boomed with the national anthem indicating the end of the ceremony. He stood still, memorizing every word he already knew by heart. The resolution had renewed like always. He'd keep on serving this nation as long as he was alive.

It was way after the ceremony had seen its end, a relaxed Zaviyar was making his way through his colleagues. His eyes were searching around, when a small fist had rubbed into his side. He smiled even before turning around and took the white and blue bundle in his arms.

Zuhal's feistiness had vanished the moment she was put into her father's warm embrace. Now she was looking around with her big eyes taking in her surroundings with her head resting on Zaviyar's shoulder.

"You kid was almost at the point of making me want to hit my head on the tank they have on show."

Harram huffed but Zaviyar had already seen her wiping her tears. He shook his head and pulled her to his side.

"Mrs. Zaviyar."

She turned away from her husband and daughter and found Colonel Bukhari along with another important looking man making his way towards where she was standing with her family. She was familiar with the second face but finding the person coming towards her was confusing. Zaviyar pulled Zuhal up who was busy playing with the badge on his shirt. Harram looked at him questionably but he shrugged his shoulders as if he knew nothing. Too bad she had seen his smile.

"General Mujtaba Siddiqui. Chief of armed forces."

Harram already knew that. She was suddenly feeling intimidated. Anyone would, seeing the powerful and shrewd man Mujtaba Siddiqui was.

"Assalam Alaikum."

She greeted still not knowing why she was getting this introduction. As far as today was concerned, it was Zaviyar's day so why was she being sought by these high scale army personnel? General Mujtaba greeted back with a smile which did help turn his whole demeanor a bit welcoming. He patted Zuhal's head who was still engrossed in unraveling all the secrets of her father's badge.

"I was pretty eager to meet you, Mrs. Harram. Have heard a lot about you from Bukhari here."

Colonel Bukhari looked on with something akin to pride shining in his eyes. Harram didn't know how to react to this. So she just stayed quiet.

"We get a lot of chances of applauding our front line soldiers, like the ceremony today. But after knowing what you pulled off in your husband's absence, I feel like people like you should also get praised and rightfully so."

Harram blinked back a tear. She wasn't expecting this.

"Women like you are gems for this country. Who knows when to fight the demons lurking around us all. Who challenge every stereotype we are faced with since our childhood. Strength and woman are synonyms for me. I'm a proud father of three girls and they make me even prouder every single day. I'll tell them about you so they can learn some more. More power to you, young lady. Congratulations once again, Zaviyar."

Zaviyar shook hands with him. Both Siddiqui and Bukhari went away but the impact of the words said to Harram stayed with her. She dabbed her eyes with her tissue and turned to Zaviyar.

"Since the time I've come here I'm just bawling. I deserved a heads up you know."

"I can see. Your liner is a bit ruined."

Harram laughed at his mock disgust.

"Save it, Major. We both know you find me beautiful no matter what."

"When did I say that?"

"When I tried making Zuhal eat her cereal and in the process ended up having a baby food bath."

Zaviyar grinned at the fond memory. Zuhal was silently looking between her parents listening to their banter.

"Harram."

"Hun?"

He stopped right in front of her making her halt in her tracks.

"I know I don't have to voice it out and you already know it but still, I'm really so proud of you. You were so strong and rational when most people aren't. You can give me a run for my money anytime. Good thing I married you otherwise having you as a competitor would've been such a stress."

Harram burst into laughter while Zaviyar grinned, playing with Zuhal's hair. They were lost in their world which they had gotten back after walking miles barefoot. As they started walking towards the exit still smiling and talking, a camera flash had gone off. The moment had been captured. A moment which would soon find its way on the memory wall of the house. A picture speaking volumes, telling stories told, still untold.

_____________________

The air around Pindi cantonment was tense that particular evening to say the least. The kitchen was buzzing with the sounds of utensils and the smell of the fresh food was wafting out of it. Harram concentrated on the simmering gravy pushing a tendril of her hair behind her ear. She was almost done with it. Contrary to her mood the gravy had turned out good.

In the lounge, Zuhal was playing in her Dado's lap who was enjoying her antics to the fullest. Khadija loved this munchkin more than anything in the world. The time spent with her was always the highlight of Khadija's day.

The door to the bedroom opened and Zuhal looked up. This was the first time Zuhal didn't cause a racket for her father to pick her up. A knowing smile graced Zaviyar's lips.

"Seems like the mood is contagious."

Khadija gave him a disapproving look. Zaviyar glanced in the direction of the kitchen and then walked towards it.

The sight of Harram's serious, engrossed in her work face had him shake his head. She was aware of his presence but didn't do anything to acknowledge it. Zaviyar took steady steps and she stood in front of the stove, he had hugged her from behind.

Harram closed her eyes but then changed her expressions immediately.

"The gravy looks spicy."

His mirthful voice had no effect on her.

"Garnish it with your anger now, perfect."

Harram whipped around scowling at him. Zaviyar knew his attempt of easing the situation had gone to waste. He sighed holding her hand.

"Harram we talked about it, didn't we?"

She opened the fridge when he turned her around.

"You know it's not going to be easy for me as well."

"Then don't go!"

"It's my job, Harram."

"You've been working here in Islamabad for six months now and it went fine. Why do they need you somewhere else now?"

"That's the point. I asked them to keep me here for a few weeks. They were generous to stretch it to months but now's the time to go out there like before."

"You know what happened before."

Zaviyar held her from her shoulders. In her heart she knew this was inevitable. Zaviyar had always been pretty good at what he did for a living. After the happenings of six months back, he was all the more needed by his officials but Bukhari didn't stress him and kept him posted in Islamabad only close to his family. But this setting couldn't go on forever.

"Nothing will happen to me. I will make sure of it."

Harram knew her protests would be futile. Duty is duty. She could just hope and pray that he'd never be subjected to a fate like before. He wouldn't, that was also her belief but what she'd do with this heart of hers?

"Will you be back for Hamail's reception?"

Zaviyar wanted to hide her somewhere. He didn't want to go away. His whole heart was here. Harram, Khadija and that little doll of his, Zuhal who had him wrapped around her finger.

"I'll be. Reception after three years of marriage. I sure as hell won't miss it."

"Stop making fun."

She punched his arm but she herself was smiling.

This had become her fate the day she had accepted this man into her life. She had her fears intact but the only thing to do right now was sending him with her prayers. This was a constant in her life.

________________

Harram pushed the door to their room and looked around worriedly. She had just been told Zuhal was being cranky and asking for her. The house was already a mess owing to the fact that they had arranged for Hamail's reception. It was almost comical, It had been close to three years since Hamail and Meeral's nikkah, but Mrs. Aneesa had insisted on it. Only close family and friends were invited but that didn't mean workload was less. As usual Harram was the most active person involved taking responsibility for many tasks. In all this Zuhal and Zaviyar weren't getting Harram's undivided attention much to their annoyance.

Harram narrowed her eyes at the father daughter duo. Zaviyar was lounging on the couch with Zuhal playing with his fingers in her sweet baby voices.

"I was told she wouldn't stop crying."

Her words fell on deaf ears. Both ignored her as if she wasn't even there.

"Mature, Zaviyar. Very mature."

She started clearing up the mess all the while giving a stink eye to her husband whose scowl was also at its place.

"You know what, Zuhal? This is never changing. Your mother hasn't done it the first time. I'm sorry you are also included now."

"Stop guilt tripping me."

"Is it working?"

He asked, raising an eyebrow. Harram huffed nodding.

"Good."

"Really, Zaviyar? I wasn't out there playing soccer. I have work to do. A lot of it."

"Do you see us complaining? Go on and do your work."

"Argh! Fine! But keep Zuhal out of it!"

"She was also being ignored, Ma'am."

"Oh, she wasn't. I was with her all day. You are just exaggerating."

Zuhal look back and forth between her parents with full concentration. Her eyes were filled with wonder as if her parents were doing a play for her.

"Now give her to me! I have to make her ready."

"Why? Aren't you quite busy?"

Harram glared at him picking Zuhal up.

"Now, we'll get ready in the nice clothes mommy has taken out for Zuhal."

Harram coaxed her but she had started wiggling out of her hold giving arms to her relaxed father. Zaviyar gave a loud laugh.

"I hate you, Major!"

"I love you more!"

___________________

Sohaira shook her head taking another picture of Hamail and Meeral. Both were looking perfect together as usual but Hamail's not keeping his hands to himself was almost frustrating.

"Stop behaving like a school boy you idiot! She's your wife only! Behave!"

Hamail looked on with duh expressions while Meeral sent a silent thanks Sohaira's way. She loved this man but his unabashed ways especially when the whole family was around, weren't appreciated by her.

Everyone was there, everyone who mattered, everyone who was happy for this family. These people had journeyed a long way to get where they were right now. Sohaira was trying to capture as many moments in her camera as she could. She had made an excuse of sending these to Raza but no one was a fool there.

"Hamail won't appreciate it."

Gull commented standing close to her daughter. Sohaira shrugged her shoulders.

"He knows I'm sending these to Baba. If he had any objections, he would've told me."

Gull turned her eyes around at all the faces she could see. Ismail wasn't among those and as much as she hated to admit it, it really bothered her.

"No matter how much you and Hamail try to show it, I know you two don't hate Dad. You guys miss him as much as I do."

"He's serving a deserving ordeal, Soha."

"I never said he isn't. In fact, I'm glad he is. When you're surrounded with bad from all directions, even acknowledging it in your heart is something. Baba accepted his mistakes, Mama. I don't know about you but I believe in second chances. And he has earned his. This world is already filled with so much hatred. The least we can do is not subjecting someone to it when they don't deserve it anymore. Zaviyar Bhai also knows about it and he hasn't stopped me."

Gull looked away wiping a tear. She wished she had a heart as forgiving as Sohaira's. But the future is always uncertain. You never know when your heart would start siding with someone. Maybe she and Hamail would also forgive Ismail. Who knew.

___________________

Khadija stifled her laugh taking Zuhal from Harram, who had just sent a glare Zaviyar's way.

"So Zuhal's Mama and Baba are at it again."

Harram left a helpless sigh not saying anything.

"He just riles you up, Harram."

"He always does this, auntie! Such an attention seeker!"

Khadija was so used to their bickering that she just rocked her almost asleep granddaughter and sat down in her seat. Harram had walked towards the couple of the evening making sure Meeral didn't need anything. This was a respite from months of emotional toll. The smiling faces of everyone around her put a balm on her heart. She had been working continuously but it was all worth it. As she made her way back to where she was sitting with Khadija previously, she was stopped midway. Her eyes looked up and found his smiling ones but he was so mistaken if he thought this would settle down just like this.

"You need something?"

"You look more beautiful when you are mad at me."

"And this is such a third class line to use on your wife! Move!"

She tried walking past him. Zaviyar chuckled at her eagerness and bent his head a bit.

"Everyone's looking, Zaviyar."

"Admiring actually."

"If you think this is going to make peace between us..."

"What are you talking about? We are good."

"Ha! You know what, Major? Make your mind first. Because I wasn't the one who started it."

She looked away, folding her arms on her chest. She was in full mood of making him taste his own medicine but suddenly she felt a sense of Deja Vu hitting her. The faces around them were all familiar. The setting as well. A familiar scene from Jiya's engagement had swirled before her eyes. The only difference was the distance between him and her, it had reduced to nothing. There were no stolen glances anymore. No hidden feelings making their presence known. Zaviyar must've felt it too. He smiled with his eyes glued to her. Just two steps closer, he had covered the distance, something which he wasn't able to do back in time.

"Abh phir poochtay ho muqam apna

Keh jo diya. Zindagi ho tum"

A teary smile had broken on Harram's face. These lines were far better and heartfelt when they were said directly to her rather than being written behind a photo. She hugged him nt caring for anyone. Zaviyar welcomes the force. Love knows when love here, this time around love wasn't going anywhere. They wouldn't let it.

_____________________