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Chapter 2- Freedom
He ran as fast as his legs could carry him.
"Rukh jaa badmaash!" A hoarse voice shouted.
"Haath nai aunga kaka! Kabhi nai aaunga."
He reached his dadi's home at six in the evening.
"Aaah" he screamed as someone twisted his ear.
"Mom, please chodiye na!"
"Din bhar din badmaash hote jaa rahe ho! Kaka mille the. Phir se kariyan churai na? Zain hum Mumbai se hai. Apni haisiyat se jio.
Har waqt jab dada-dadi ke yaha aate ho, besharam ho jate ho.Aur yeh kya halat bana rakha hai apna? Jao,change karo."
"Ji mom." He said, his eyes downcast as he shuffled of to his room.
"Kyun danti ho tum usse Suraiya begum?"
"Aap nai samjhenge Usman Saab. Aaj kariyan churra raha hai, kal kuch aur bada churayega."
He was six then when his mother repremainded him for stealing.
He was ten when she thrashed him for sneaking out to play when he was supossed to study.
He was seventeen when she refused to let him opt for the course he wanted.
But the spark in him was still alive.
"Toh, aa raha hai ya nai?" He barked into the phone.
There was a pregnant pause, and then he heard a meek-
"Thik hai. Kal mil." And the receiver click.
He looked around his messy room. Clothes were strewn around, suitcases open, gadgets on charge.
"Clothes check.
Clean underwear.check.
Deos-check.
Money- check.
Tickets-shit!"
He had forgotten to book the tickets.
He dialled Rizwan's number-
"Abbe, tickets lena toh bhul hi gaya."
He heard him groan on the other side.
"Saale,chal chod. Mein hi kuch jugad karta hun."
After an hour or so when all his possesions he might need were packed into a single suitcase and his room noticeably clean,he flopped on the bed and moaned into his pillow.
He heard his mother come in-
"Zain?"
"Yeah mom?"
"Can I come in?"
He looked around to check if he had something out that his mom shouldn't see and then said-
"Sure mom."
Suraiya Abdullah, the reowned chef, and the wife of a rich business man had two sons- Fahad and Zain.
Introverts and extroverts respectively.
When she walked in a place, heads turned and admiration shone in the eyes of many.
Some might consider her arrogant,she was sweet at times. But a complete control freak round the clock.
She held a white envelope in her hands.
Zain stifiled his groan as he knew what was coming.
Her eyes shone dangerously.
"We have held up our end of the deal, you do ours." And handed the envelope to him.
He shook the contents out on the bed and glanced through the pictures which seemed photoshoped to him.
When had he suddenly become the most eligible bachelor of the town?
He picked a photo randomly and handed it to his mom.
She glanced at and then at him.
"Are you sure?" She asked.
"Yup."
She nodded once and glided gracefully out of his room as he flopped back on his bed.
Glaring at the ceiling, he said-
"Better make this trip worth my freedom Allah."
He had, after all, a good four months ahead of him to get out of the mess.
***
Likes and comments people. This is too a sort of filler chapter.
The pms will go out to only those who have commented on the previous chapter and are in my buddy list.
Constructive critisism is always welcome.
Thank you for reviewing in advance.
-Sanika :)
He ran as fast as his legs could carry him.
"Rukh jaa badmaash!" A hoarse voice shouted.
"Haath nai aunga kaka! Kabhi nai aaunga."
He reached his dadi's home at six in the evening.
"Aaah" he screamed as someone twisted his ear.
"Mom, please chodiye na!"
"Din bhar din badmaash hote jaa rahe ho! Kaka mille the. Phir se kariyan churai na? Zain hum Mumbai se hai. Apni haisiyat se jio.
Har waqt jab dada-dadi ke yaha aate ho, besharam ho jate ho.Aur yeh kya halat bana rakha hai apna? Jao,change karo."
"Ji mom." He said, his eyes downcast as he shuffled of to his room.
"Kyun danti ho tum usse Suraiya begum?"
"Aap nai samjhenge Usman Saab. Aaj kariyan churra raha hai, kal kuch aur bada churayega."
He was six then when his mother repremainded him for stealing.
He was ten when she thrashed him for sneaking out to play when he was supossed to study.
He was seventeen when she refused to let him opt for the course he wanted.
But the spark in him was still alive.
"Toh, aa raha hai ya nai?" He barked into the phone.
There was a pregnant pause, and then he heard a meek-
"Thik hai. Kal mil." And the receiver click.
He looked around his messy room. Clothes were strewn around, suitcases open, gadgets on charge.
"Clothes check.
Clean underwear.check.
Deos-check.
Money- check.
Tickets-shit!"
He had forgotten to book the tickets.
He dialled Rizwan's number-
"Abbe, tickets lena toh bhul hi gaya."
He heard him groan on the other side.
"Saale,chal chod. Mein hi kuch jugad karta hun."
After an hour or so when all his possesions he might need were packed into a single suitcase and his room noticeably clean,he flopped on the bed and moaned into his pillow.
He heard his mother come in-
"Zain?"
"Yeah mom?"
"Can I come in?"
He looked around to check if he had something out that his mom shouldn't see and then said-
"Sure mom."
Suraiya Abdullah, the reowned chef, and the wife of a rich business man had two sons- Fahad and Zain.
Introverts and extroverts respectively.
When she walked in a place, heads turned and admiration shone in the eyes of many.
Some might consider her arrogant,she was sweet at times. But a complete control freak round the clock.
She held a white envelope in her hands.
Zain stifiled his groan as he knew what was coming.
Her eyes shone dangerously.
"We have held up our end of the deal, you do ours." And handed the envelope to him.
He shook the contents out on the bed and glanced through the pictures which seemed photoshoped to him.
When had he suddenly become the most eligible bachelor of the town?
He picked a photo randomly and handed it to his mom.
She glanced at and then at him.
"Are you sure?" She asked.
"Yup."
She nodded once and glided gracefully out of his room as he flopped back on his bed.
Glaring at the ceiling, he said-
"Better make this trip worth my freedom Allah."
He had, after all, a good four months ahead of him to get out of the mess.
***
Likes and comments people. This is too a sort of filler chapter.
The pms will go out to only those who have commented on the previous chapter and are in my buddy list.
Constructive critisism is always welcome.
Thank you for reviewing in advance.
-Sanika :)
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