Chapter 2 - Blood Ties

I know I know, that first chapter pretty much didn't make any sense. But it wasn't supposed to :P. Hopefully it starts making more sense from this chapter onwards.
Italics are used for all memories.

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For each person there is a sentence - a series of words - which has the power to destroy them. 

- Philip K. Dick

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1st of February 2013,

She walked with her head down, battling against the speckles of snow that obscured her view for moments at a time, sometimes slowly, one by one, and sometimes all at once. But she kept on going, holding the hood in front of her and her heavy coat fastened tightly around her. 

She could have made this a whole lot easier, but that would have ruined other things. She moved back a stray bronze strand of hair that blew in front of her face, stopping for a fraction of a second and sighed loudly. She was not the young woman she had been when she had first bestowed this responsibility upon Zeenat. 

Zeenat began the moment Dilshaad sat down, she had been expecting this, for years now and now that it was finally about to happen, she wasn't so sure she could do it. 

"You're taking Zoya," she finally stated, letting her eyes meet Dilshaad's as Dilshaad nodded back slowly. They had both known this day would come.

Dilshaad let her finger travel over the rim of the mug for a second before she looked back at Zeenat, "but I wanted to ask for your permission for something," she finally said, as Zeenat looked to her confused. 

"Look Zeenat... The responsibility I gave you all those years ago... To look after Zoya like a daughter, you've fulfilled that till this date, without any complaints, any misgivings, she's become your daughter," Dilshaad was speaking her heart, she rarely voiced her feelings but this was necessary. 

"So I can't make this decision on my own, it is for you to take."

Zeenat continued to watch her, her brows furrowed, she didn't understand where this was going. 

Dilshaad finally brought her hand and placed it upon Zeenat's, giving it a soft squeeze, "I would like to ask for Zoya's hand in marriage for my Asad," she finally said, her words gentle, as a slow smile spread over Zeenat's face. 

****

Present Day...

"Miss..." Asad closed his eyes, struggling with his words and thoughts and the anger that was slowly but surely consuming him. 

"It's mrs!" Zoya shouted, growling at him then turning back away, continued to fling her clothes onto the floor.

He pinched the space between his eyebrows as he surveyed the mess that his otherwise neat room had become. "Fine! Mrs Zoya! May I ask what exactly it is you are doing?!" He demanded, the decibels of his voice increasing with each word. 

She stopped suddenly, letting herself turn around towards him one more time. Then brought her hands in front of her, gesturing as she spoke, "Mr Khan," she emphasised the informal way that she had now become accustomed to addressing him. "There is no need to panic, I am just looking for my clothes, I will clean everything once I am done. Why are you over-reacting?" She questioned patiently as he glowered back in return. 

He walked towards her then, just as she was about to turn away, "Why am I over-reacting?!" He shouted, "look at the state this room is in! Since the day you have arrived in my life, my life feels like a mess! This room, the house, everything!" He continued to shout. This had been building up for quite a while now. They had been married for a week and she was showing no signs of even so much as trying to adapt to his way of life, instead she was adamant on continuing on her own, disgusting manner of living. 

She turned back around completely again, frowning back at him, "I'm sorry, you should have thought about that before saying qubool hai. Now we are both stuck in my life that is a so called mess!" She stated with equal force, keeping her eyes level with his as she folded her arms in front of her. 

Asad Ahmed Khan however, was not yet done, "Zoya, I know you are this modern girl, who was brought up in New York, but there are rules here," he continued to reprimand her, he was done with watching and leaving quietly, today was the day that he got all of his words out. "You do not enter this house later than necessary," he began then, his finger pointed, taking a step towards her as she took one back, "you do not eat pizza and leave it lying around as if there are a dozen servants here to clean up your mess," another foot forward, as she took one more back, "and you do not turn my room into a dump to your pleasing!" He finally finished off, his voice loud with anger, his nostrils flaring with the fury coursing through him as Zoya continued to stare back at him, her eyes wide in shock, her arms no longer crossed in front of her. 

She took several more steps back, till her heel banged into the bed frame and she stumbled as she nearly fell onto it, but his hand went around her wrist just then, yanking her back up close to him, till their breaths were almost colliding off of each other. 

She swallowed hard, she hadn't expected him to become this angry. He let go of her arm then, looking away to calm himself down, then looked back up towards her once more. "Clearly your parents never focused on your upbringing," he finally stated icily then turning around, strode away. 

Zoya continued to stand there, dumbstruck, in a place where the words had hit her but she wasn't quite sure how to take them in yet, not even noticing the tears that began to prickle at her eyes. She fell onto her bed then, feeling a part of her slowly break away and brought her palms to her face as slow, silent tears trailed down her face. She had actually begun to give him a chance, after the whole commotion of getting over whether or not he was trying to kill her, she had begun to try and see him in a different light. 

He was different to her yes, but not everyone was the same and she had been willing to give this man, that constantly walked around in his own shell a chance but maybe not anymore. She stood up then and began walking off as if in a daze, all of her bottled up feelings and nightmares coming through to the forefront. 

She walked over to the end of the room, to the large window that let the silver moonbeam rays adorn the whole room, and looked up at the cloudless sky, her hand soothing the base of her throat. There wasn't a day that passed without her thinking of her mother that had passed away, at an age where she had not even understood the true reality of loss and a father that she had never quite known. But being reminded of it by someone else, hurt her somewhere deeper. 

She began to wipe at her tears harshly then, she would give anything to find him, her father and that was why she was here, she finally decided. 

****

"Bhabi? Bhabi?" Shireen continued to call out as she roamed through the house, her eyes travelling to every corner until she finally came to a stop right in front of Razia. She brought a large smile onto her face then, "arrey bhabi! I was looking for you everywhere," she smiled as Razia considered her slowly, glancing at her from head to toe. 

"What is it Shireen?" She questioned bitterly then, she was in a foul mood and not prepared to be put through even more of the torturously stupid questions that Shireen would ask her. 

"Bhabi, do you know where Rashid is? He hasn't been answering my calls for a week now," Shireen questioned innocently, watching Razia's eyes widen for a fraction of a second before she had the time to hide her reaction. 

"Why would I know Shireen? Do I look like some sort of tracking device that I would know of your husbands whereabouts?" She questioned cuttingly. 

"Arrey nahin bhabi, I was just asking you know because I can't seem to get a hold of him. And as it is you seem to know everything anyway," Shireen continued to speak in her innocent form as Razia looked her up and down again then walked away. 

Shireen turned around, folding her arms in front of her, watching Razia's back then slowly began to follow her through the house. She would find out for definite where Rashid was today. 

****

There was a slow breeze about that made flowers sway in it's gait and Humeira sat perched on the little bench outside, watching their dainty movements as she pondered through her own thoughts and feelings. A few strands of her hair blew over her face and she moved them away slowly with her fingers, almost missing the warmth of his hand next to hers as he sat down next to her. 

"I guess we've both found time to come sit here for a change," Aayan's voice pulled her out of her thoughts and she slowly looked up to watch the side of his face, the striking features that matched his equally handsome brother. 

"Hmmm..." She mumbled, not even remembering what he had said in the first place. 

He looked towards her then, their gazes colliding for a fraction of a second before she looked down, shying away from his eyes that always saw right through her. 

He too looked away then, for his next words he knew, deep inside would hurt them both equally. Letting his finger graze over the soft marble of the bench he began, "your mother has chosen a girl for me to marry," he finally mumbled. 

She turned back towards him instantly, her eyes large with shock as his words echoed through her, stamping her every desire, not even leaving her time to compose herself. 

****

Asad slowly walked back towards their room, his feet coming to a slow halt just as he reached the door. He swallowed hard, thinking about his rash words, how she had in the end just stood there, taking it all in. He had to clench his hands into fists, he'd have to apologise. It had been wrong of him to bring her parents into this, after all he hadn't even met them. 

He slowly began to the turn the knob, sighing, his eyes widening the very next second. His room, their room was spotlessly clean but the person he had come looking for, Zoya, was no where to be seen. 

****

Shireen walked over to the booth in a hurry, her feet quick on the ground as she looked to all directions around her, pulling her dupatta further in front of her, covering her face. 

She looked around once more before she finally entered the telephone booth, her fingers quickly pressing on the number that was now engraved into her memory. 

The woman at the other end picked up on the third ring, listening quietly, waiting for Shireen to begin speaking. 

"You were right, Rahsid is in New York. Make sure Zeenat stays for a while longer in Mumbai," she finished off quickly, her eyes constantly focused around her as she made sure she was not being followed or watched then quickly replaced the receiver. 

Her heart was still hammering away in her chest by the time she reached home, thankfully they had acted on time. 

~

The path to heaven

runs through miles of clouded hell

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