Chapter 93: Chapter 93

The wiltering flowers at his beloved's grave stood out as an evidence of the abandonment by her own family. Haider sat near the grave. As tears slowly cascaded down his eyes.

"You've endured enough. I wish... for once you'd have expressed your love for me. For once. Then my whole life wouldn't be so bleak. The reciprocation for which I waited finally came after decades," he played with the mud of the grave, "For once, you could have told me... what Agha did. What my father did. I wish... after your demise even for once you'd have come in my dreams and apprised me how you were brutally killed," Another tear dropped from his eye and landed on her grave, "I read... what you wrote in those pages. Where you expressed your love for me. I freed you from myself only because I wanted you to be happy and be with your lover. I've never hated you. Despite you were caught with another man.... I loved you regardless of every circumstance. My love for you was conditionless, my Jahan"

(IN URDU JAHAN MEANS WORLD)

Haider placed his head on the mud, feeling utter peace and tranuillity. "I will join you soon in that eternal realm where our love will last forever. And ever. Without any conditions. Any questions or any difficulty. We will remain together. And this time, always."

"I love you. I miss you," A tear released from his eye and entered the mud of grave, "we will unite again,"

...

Haseeb and Irtaza saw Haider placing his head on Jaha Ara's grave. He was talking as if she heard everything. Responded to everything.

A few moments passed and it was when Irtaza realized Haider didn't raise his head up from the grave. He rushed towards him and found his eyes closed. Immediately, he checked his pulse and breathing.

The pulse was low or maybe there wasn't any pulse. He immediately held Haider with the help of Haseeb and they lodged him to the car before rushing the car to the hospital.

At the hospital, he was being given the CPR to revive his heart into functioning. Fortunately, his breaths revived, but it was all short lived.

His heart had grown weak. So weak. That he couldn't handle any stress.

The doctors have came out of the ICU announcing it to the family that Haider was now on ventilator with a few more days to live. He might or might not come to consciousness. His heart was too frail to perform any surgery.

It felt as if the sky fell on the Syed family. Cries and hues rose from the area as the all hugged each other, knowing their beloved has now entered the valley of death and reached the depth of that valley to the point of no return.

They all were sad.

Very sad.

...

"What will happen now, Shehryaar?" Sheharzaad asked him. They both were at the hospital in Haider's room. Shehryaar has asked her to go home and take some rest but she refused, saying she wanted to be near to Haider.

Shehryaar looked at his father, lying on the bed. The sound of electrocardiograph mingling with the deafening silence which has enveloped his mind.

"He will die," He simply stated, as if he was mentally preparing himself to sustain this shock.

"Come here," he patted the place next to him and she closed the distance between them.

His hand went behind her neck as he kissed the top of her forehead before placing her head gently on his chest, "I'm here for you. Don't worry," he caressed her hair.

"But-" Sheharzaad's voice choked, "he will go," She hicupped before pulling her head up again, tears breaking through her eyes.

"Let him go, Zaad. Let him go to the one whom he had always loved," He muttered, cleaning tears from her cheeks with the back of his fingers.

"It's my fault," She cried out in a hushed tone, "I gave that diary to him.... I gave that diary to him!"

Again.

Again, his wife was taking all the blame on her.

She had already told Shehryaar about the diary a few days back and told him that she had handed over that diary to Haider. Maybe it was what that had Haider reach this stage. Shehryaar just asked for the diary from her. And then he thoroughly read it. He put himself in his father's position and it turned out, he was the most wronged one in this whole plot. He was the real victim to everything without committing any sin.

He deserved to be released from this life where every moment was spent in reminiscing the past with no hope of future and no existence of presence. Life full of urges for the breaths to shorten so it could shorten the distance between him and his beloved. His rose. His Jahan.

It wasn't Sheharzaad's fault.

It was the nature playing its role.

This has to happen.

It was destined.

"It's my fault, Shehryaar," More tears propelled out of her eyes, "I just wanted him to know that the wife he thought never loved him, had always loved him, from the start,"

"Shh. Quiet, Zaad. Be calm," he placed his thumb on her lips. She had been like this after the news the doctor broke on the family.

"How?" Sheharzaad held his hand and pulled his thumb away from her lips.

"It's my fault!" she hiccupped, "my fault! My fault!" she cried out hysterically.

He just stared at her tear-drenched face.

"Nothing is your fault," he whispered after a moments of silence as he pulled her closer to him by grabbing her arm so she landed on his chest.

She looked up at him.

And he looked down towards her.

Their eyes connected.

Sparks erupting.

Heartbeats uniting.

Breaths mingling.

His lips advanced towards her and she looked down. He slowly caressed his lips with hers before placing a chaste kiss on her lips. He felt the dryness of her lips so he ran his tongue on her lower lip that had her gulp, "I love you, Sheharzaad," he whispered against her lips.

She didn't respond.

....

The hospital room was vacant of any individual. Only the patient lied there. There were only attendant allowed with the patient, which was Dua, who had gone out to the cafeteria for lunch. Before leaving, she had told the nurse which was assigned by the hospital to Haider that she will be back in a few minutes after the lunch and requested her to take care of her father.

The nurse smiled at her and agreed.

She entered the room.

The oxygen mask was connected with his face.

A smile played on her lips.

And she locked the door.

Slowly, approaching the almost dead man, she looked at him. Her eyes resting on his face. Fire dancing in her eyes.

Fire of revenge.

She was Nayab.

Sister of Daniyal and Shoaib.

Daughter of Waqas and Neelam.

Neelam who was sister of Zahra's mother, Ammara.

Daniyal, whom Zahra loved so dearly.

Shoaib, her brother... who harassed Zahra.

She had come to know who was behind the destruction of her family.

Daniyal was abducted by Irtaza when he had gone to take Zahra away to her university. And Daniyal never came back. Waqas, her father, was framed in a case by FIA and was murdered in the custody. Her mother committed suicide. They were forced to move out of the house where they lived leaving Shoaib and her on the roads. And it was then she was abused by a group of men and when she woke up in the hospital, she had come to know her brother Shoaib had died too. Investigating further, she had come to know it was mafia behind all of this.

Irtaza's mafia.

And revenge began to slowly brew up in her mind.

But one thing she failed to realize that it was Karma of whatever her family did with Zahra's family. She never realized that she too made Shoaib harass Zahra. She knew that her cousin was being harassed and remained quiet about it. She knew her family was involved in framing Zahra's father in that loan case due to which he had died and Zahra and Ammara were left on roads.

It was her karma.

But all she thought was about herself.

She became a nurse near to the hospital where the haveli resided. She knew a day has to come when one of them will come to hospital and she would utilize that opportunity.

And the day arrived. Atlast.

Moving towards Haider, she disconnected the oxygen pipes, taking the mask away from his face, very well aware that he didn't have the ability to breathe without it. All she could think was what Irtaza would feel after seeing the death of his beloved father.

She saw the electrocardiogram. His heartbeat was falling. He was struggling to breathe. At the same time, the handle of the room turned down but since the door was locked, the person couldn't open it.

"Open the door!" It was Dua, who was now smashing her fists against the door.

"Nayab! Open the door!" She shouted from the other side of the door. She could hear the irregular voice of the device and it had her heartbeat erratic.

"HELP! HELP!" Dua began to shout.

And the door was banged open with the help of male nurses and a security guard. There stood Nayab with a sinister smile on her face.

Dua's eyes immediately went to the heart machine and then.... a tear slipped through her eye.

"Baba," she whispered.