Chapter 8

Vintage Flow

@Vintage_flow

Chapter 8

In a wonderland we lie

Water splashed around its tires as the car sped on the highway to Agra. It was an early morning shower waking up the cities.

Zoya glanced at the dashboard that had a small clock on it with 4:58 flashing. They had been on the road for about an hour now. Why Mr. Dracula Ahmed Khan wanted to leave this early was beyond her. Who cares if it was crowded?

Just elbow them right back, if they elbow you. Simple.

But she didn’t want to say anything lest his highness got offended. Especially now that he had gone back to being his Akdu self. The exact kind she despised.

She could hear his voice discussing stocks with Jeeju again. They both had freakishly a lot in common. A feat impossible to believe mainly considering her Jeeju wasn’t an absolute, emotionless robot most of the time.

She let her lids close and sleep take over once more drowning out everything.

It was 6:47 when she woke up. They had stopped to have breakfast and give driving Asad a moment to relax.

Six hot teas and a black coffee arrived at the table.

Mission Asya founders looked at their prime targets with dismay, sipping at their drinks. Every experiment under the sun had been conducted, every excuse used. They had been sent on fake chores, left alone purposely, accidentally made to fall onto each other, even blatantly forced to strike a pose together.

But no, these two had sworn to be miserable.

Dilshad wasn’t far from detecting the shady operation either. All her children were behaving weird, especially her daughter. Didn’t she know Asad and Zoya hated each other’s guts. What was up with all her  ‘strike a pose photography’

Was it a prank, she wasn't a part of?

But most importantly, why weren’t they hating each other’s guts. Something was going on. And right under her nose.

Anwar and Zeenat observed Zoya’s face and shared a look, she seemed sad again. They had thought the trip was doing her some good, but the last few days in Jaipur weren’t spend with the firecracker Zoya. She’d been more of a quietcracker.

Her Aapi tried to spark some reaction once everyone got in the car “So Zoya, Hameeda was telling me her nephew lives in Agra, wouldn’t it be great if you two can meet”

Her ears perked “Why?” she asked slow and careful.

“What do you mean why. To spend some you know, time together, make new friends” The car jerked forward in an abrupt fashion sliding everyone to the edge of their seats.

“Sorry, clutch acting up” Asad mumbled, his breath heavy, eyes and ears glued to the back seat.

“I already have a lot of friends Aapi, I don’t need another”

“Zoya, He’s a nice boy, engineer, smart, good looking. Ab nahi dekhenge toh kab dekhenge. Anwar samjhaiye na”

“Jeeju, trade seats with me please”

“Zoya!” Zeenat whined offended.

“Aapi hum Taj Mahal sirf visit karne ja rahe hain. Khuda ke liye, mujhe Mumtaz na banaye”

The next five minutes were spent huffed and puffed between two sisters but not before Noshini noticed Asad’s fearful eyes.

***

Only romantic melodies floated through the car on Najma’s request. Maybe they’ll understand the meaning behind soulful words and get their heads right!

Asad wasn’t a happy camper. And it made him even more mad that Zoya took Aapi’s wedding talk so casually. He had no right to be angry or frustrated but he was. Pure and undiluted fear washed through him at the mention of her marriage and he didn’t know what to do with these heightened feelings.

The race pedal suffered more pressure now and it didn’t go undetected. When she looked at him with concern, his nerves calmed a bit. Her noticing him repeatedly brought comfort.

Failing to keep her stares to herself, Zoya rested her head on the window, closing her eyes. They would only open to see the glory of Taj, she promised.

It wasn’t a bad promise to make for the sight was well worth the wait. The magnificent white beauty stood strong as a symbol of love. The sun rays filtering through the hefty clouds reflected on its shiny surface and made it nothing short of a fairyland.

Everyone stood hypnotised, cameras forgotten, they walked towards it in the moment. The reflection of Taj in the water was a sign of great vision and architecture, the work of finest artisans to make the world’s greatest gift.The hazy sunshine reflecting in the banks of Yamuna beside it, gold on blue, they walked slowly all around it not wanting to miss a single angle.

“You can’t enjoy the full beauty of it from outside Sir ji, please come, I’ll show you everything” a tour guide practically dragged Anwar and family away.

He started with the history of it all describing the beautiful calligraphic inscriptions, the architecture, the facts and the rumors. The group moved along the exquisite interior octagonal chambers encircling the monument. Zoya stopped to touch the plant motifs carved out of marble on the wall.

“But unfortunately, before the dream of black Taj Mahal could come to life, emperor Shahjahan passed away” he finished.

“That’s it, this is my new standard. I’m either getting Taj or never getting married” Noshini announced while everyone laughed. Asad handed the guide some money before he said jokingly, 

“Phir toh sir ji ko madam ji ke liye bhi banvana hoga.”

Everyone paused to look at the couple he spoke about as they both attempted to point out painfully awkward “We’re not…ummm…” Asad and Zoya started simultaneously, looking at each other.

“Yeah, not together” Zoya finished pursing her lips unhappily.

“Oh, I’m sorry, you both make such a good couple that I thought…” He made a move to hastily leave. He didn’t want his generous tip cut in half.

Najma snickered elbowing Zoya, speaking loud enough so that everyone heard.

“He’s not wrong, you two do make a good couple.”

Dilshad eyes widened wondering if her daughter had a death wish. Meanwhile, the pair wished for earth’s core to open and swallow them both.

***

Chapter 9

Pretending to hide

They were at Panch Mahal in the neighboring city of Fatehpur Sikri the next day walking through endless corridors carved out of red sandstone.

The smell of rain mixed with earth and its soil soothed her insides. She walked behind the elders, arm in arm with Najma while Asad and Noshini followed them at a far distance.

Wonder what they’d been chatting about?

The wondergirls – a name Noshini and Najma had awarded themselves – had been tensely preoccupied since morning. This was the last day in Agra, they were set to be home tomorrow by evening.

It was do or die.

“So funny what the guide said yesterday, didn’t he?” Najma started conversation.

“What did he say?”

“That you and bhaijaan, a couple, I mean can you imagine.”

“Yeah, can you?!”

“Actually, I might” Zoya looked at Najma surprised “I mean you guys are like the definition of filmy couples you know what I mean, the moon and the sun, the opposites attract, that’s kind of perfect in itself nahi?”

Zoya stopped in her step and gauged Najma’s face, mind disorderly. Suspicious, she looked at Noshini.

“What do you mean?” It came out as a stammer; her furrowed brows and brown eyes tense.

An instant passed before Najma guffawed “Oh my god you are so easy!” She exaggerated “Of course, I was joking”

Zoya repeated trying to regulate breathing.

“Of course, you were joking.”

“Seriously, Asad, I’m not kidding” Noshini expressed a couple feet behind from the duo “Tell me, how much fun did you guys really have with Zo here. I mean isn’t she so great!” He simply smiled reminiscing the critical to project CD in cake, his living room covered in electric wires, a broken password protected phone.

“I mean now that she’ll be leaving soon, it must feel a little weird” A sharp turn of head told her she was on right track.

“She told you she’s leaving soon”, his voice reduced to a dejected whisper.

“I mean of course, I assume we’ll travel together to N.Y. unless she wants to stay and travel more”, she responded casually shrugging shoulders.

Asad had a mind to announce an all-India tour from Jammu Kashmir to Kanyakumari.

“But you know what it’s okay, Aapi told me they were looking for an Indian groom, so she might keep coming back here to spend holidays”

Asad’s mind blocked rest of the conversation, safeguarding itself.

“I, myself am so excited to visit you guys again. This trip has been so great so far tha…”

He heard nothing.

“…and then with Zoya getting married” The words kept fading into the background “… Mr. Khan?” She stopped before he had an aneurysm. He sure looked like it.

“You gotta say it, man” The tone changed. Asad looked at her quizzically.

“Whatever it is that you have to say to her, you’ve got to. Remember there’s no undo buttons in real life so now would be the time.”

And with that Noshini walked away leaving him completely stunned.

***

“So? The big gun has been fired”

“Yes, what about you?”

“I couldn’t”

“NAJMA!”

“I chickened out, I’m sorry” Najma said meek.

“Girl I gave you the easy one, its Zoya, she’s literally a real-life version of a stuff-toy-walking.”

“I know but Zoya is so intuitive, she totally would have grasped the meanings and gone down to the bottom of this” Najma turned paranoid “And then I’d have to tell her everything; that we never checked with hotel staff before sending them on fake chores, and we totally tripped her that afternoon so bhaijaan rushes and saves her, and that you were talking to bhaijaan about same today.” The voice kept getting louder with every word of every sentence. Noshini covered her ears.

“But that’s not all, what if…”

“If?”

“Look if bhaijaan makes a decision against her. Isn’t it better we leave it unsaid, wouldn’t it hurt more to be rejected than to never know?”

It took time to correctly understand it but she did now; why Zoya was so crazy about her tamatar and phuphi. Noshini embraced her restless form.

She was certain that her best friend’s destiny had led her here. The care and love this family showered on her wasn’t typical. And went without saying, the way Asad was around her wasn’t typical either.

Asad Ahmed Khan would always be drawn to Zoya Faaroqui, she was celestial moon, and he moved with her.

She’d known her for 17 years but never once saw her heart saturated crazy for a guy. Whatever was holding them back had to go.

“Look let’s just pack for now, if Zoey is intuitive so is Asad, I have spoken pretty clearly to him and he must do something. If it’s meant to be, he must.”

***

“You were listening weren’t you” … “You gotta say it, whatever it is that you have to say” …

At home, confrontations swam uninterrupted. He held his breath and took a quick dip under the soapy water to clear his head before stepping out of the bathtub.

… “I mean now that she’ll be leaving soon, it must feel a little weird” … “I wish I could never go back” …

He had to be strong dammit. The first and central reason to be away from her stared back at him in the mirror. That hideous resemblance to Rashid Ahmed Khan. It boiled his blood that he was acting just like him; weak and pathetic. His love might be transparent but it wasn’t feeble. Zoya would not bear the brunt of his inabilities.

“Mr. Khan? ... AAH! … Sorry I’m sorry” she quickly turned.

“Miss Faaroqui, how many times?!” the sigh released was frustrated “don’t you ever knock, kya badtameezi hai” The historical in-bathtub-with-no-clothes scenario swam through his head. Incredibly foolish… His hand found its way to the forehead.

“I said I’m sorry and it’s not my fault you never put on any clothes.” Zoya almost turned around to bark that to his face. But then remembered she might end up seeing more than just that.

Her hands lightly shook when she heard cloth rustling and a pant zipper.

“Yes?” Asad questioned, his voice stern, body right behind her figure. She turned eyes still closed, hold tightening onto the shiny thing in her hand.

“You can open your eyes Miss Faaroqui” he said slow, each word enunciated, as if talking to a toddler.

“Oh” How was her first emotion disappointment. But then remembering the purpose behind her visit there, she gulped “I just wanted to give you this” 

He wiggled his brows curiously “What’s this?”

“It’s a gift” It was her turn to enunciate “I sure don’t go about wrapping silver shiny paper on random things” A nervous chuckle made its way out her lips.

His heartbeat rose. “A gift?”

“Well, a souvenir, if you will, I bought one for you other day in Agra, before we came back to Bhopal”

Oh, he didn’t like where this was going. His hands started sweating, the ridiculous memory of the three bowls came back. So did the weak pathetic feelings. And with it the absurd need to hide them.

“I don’t need a gift, Miss Faaroqui, please leave” Asad rushed her out.

Wounded, her arm blocked the door as she started angry “What. is. wrong. with. you? How could you be so insensitive? Main aapko apna samajh ke gift de rahi hu aur aap” her eyes beheld his, which were unreadable.

“You know what, since I already took the pains, I am leaving it here, you keep it or trash it” Zoya roughly handed the gift to him. His face dark, when he handed it back, it ended again into his hands stubbornly.

Asad shoved it right back.

“Mr. Khan what is your problem, just take it.” Zoya was incredulous. He was behaving like a nine-year-old. Actually, worse.

“I said. I. don’t. need. it.”

“Why? Why must you be so frustrating” she yelled in his face utterly vexed by the absurdity.

She forcibly handed it to him again “Just take it dammit!”

“I don’t want it” Volcano Asad erupted. “Alright. I do not want a last stupid parting gift from you. You didn’t think I noticed that you only bought stuff for me, Ammi and Najma. So, forgive me, if I don’t want your ‘thank-you-guest-host’ gift.”

The door shut in her bewildered face.

***