Aashiq (4)

 

**Dalia's POV**  

*Thud.*  

Something heavy hit the floor, making a dull sound that echoed in the room. A painful scream followed, loud and agonizing, sending shivers down my spine. 

I sobbed quietly, bracing myself for the inevitable pain. Instead, I felt the warm wetness of blood soaking through my salwar kameez on floor.  

"Ab maar ke dikha usse, madarchod!" The thunderous voice roared, and my eyes snapped open in horror.  

No.  

No.  

This cannot be happening.  

"Keh de ab ki koi nahi hai uska yahan!!" Another scream pierced the air, answering his challenge. I hesitated, but my trembling body turned around to face the grim reality.  

Rafiq had maimed (cut) Dilroz’s arm.  

His lion crated knife dripped crimson, each drop like a cry for justice. Dilroz sat on the floor, wailing uncontrollably, her eyes fixed on the blood pooling beneath her.  

"Mera haaaath! Aahhh, mera haath!" she screamed over and over like a madwoman, clutching at the empty space where her arm had been.  

Before my eyes could process the fallen, bloodied arm lying on the floor, Rafiq stepped toward me. He knelt, his left palm—still clean—covering my eyes.  

"You lied," he hissed, his voice sharp with anger. My lips parted, but no sound escaped.  

"Maine pucha tha tumse, Dalia! Lekin tumne bhi jhoot bola." His voice broke, and his hand wiped the tears spilling from my eyes.  

"Chillana band kar bhenchod, warna zubaan bhi kaat dunga teri!!" he roared at Dilroz. I flinched at his words, my whole body trembling.  

"Ap...ni iss raand ke liye tu..mne mera haath kaata!! Isse toh mai jaan—"  

Big mistake done by her.

Her words were cut off by a sickening flesh cutting sound. The blade of his knife plunged into her stomach, silencing her mid-sentence.  

"Jab tak mai zinda hoon, tab tak tu toh kya, koi bhi Dalia ke kareeb nahi aayega!" he shouted with a crazed determination, pulling the knife out only to stab again.  

I couldn’t move. My legs felt like lead. The man standing before me wasn’t Rafiq. It was *Nawab Rafiq Ali Zaveri*, the ruthless don known for his cruelty.  

For as long as I had known him, Rafiq had shown me care. But today, I saw his rage—the real man behind the facade. The reason why all of Lahore feared him.  

"Tum do...no kabhi khu...sh nahi rahoge! Mar jaao tum dono---- !!" Dilroz screamed, her voice hoarse with pain.  

Rafiq laughed. A sinister, bone-chilling laugh.  

"Meri khushiyan main chhin leta hoon, khairat mein nahi leta. Aur aaj toh jashan hoga—tumhari barbaadi ka jashan!" His words were laced with venom as he laughed, his madness echoing in the room.  

I remained frozen, motionless on the floor. My mind screamed that he wasn’t just cruel; he was a monster.  

"Nahi, Rafi...q bet..a! Mujhe ma..af kar do!" Dilroz’s voice cracked as she begged for mercy. 

But Rafiq ignored her. Instead, he turned to me, gripping my arm tightly to pull me to my feet.  

I instinctively clung to him, trembling. Everything around me was terrifying.  

"Shhh, ab rone ka samay nahi hai, babydoll," he murmured, his tone soft, almost soothing. 

His anger seemed to fade, but the blood splattered on his bearded face told a different story.  

In the background, Dilroz banged on the door, trying to escape. Her screams filled the air, but I was too lost in Rafiq’s grip to care.  

"Ab toh rulane ki baari hai," he whispered, his voice turning cold again.  

"Jis tarah tum chaar deewari mein cheekhi ho, aaj yeh aurat tumse dugna tadpegi... woh bhi pure khandaan ke saamne."  

"No," I whimpered, shaking my head, tears streaming down my face. He ignored me, his hand tightening painfully in my hair.  

"Ahhh!" I shrieked as his grip pulled my head back.  

"Aur tum sab kuch dekhogi. Tumhe chhoone ka, dard dene ka, aur pyaar karne ka haq sirf Nawab Rafiq Ali Zaveri ka hai," he growled, tracing the tip of his knife along my cheek.  

My eyes shut tightly, unable to face him.  

"Ankhein band nahi honi chahiye tumhari. Warna mujhse bura koi nahi hoga," he warned. His words left no room for argument.  

Seconds later, he was dragging Dilroz by her hair across the floor.  

"Aise hi kheeche the na meri Dalia ke baal tune?! Bol!!" he shouted. She fell to the floor, scrambling backward in fear.  

"Tum batao, Dalia?" His question startled me, and I flinched as his attention turned to me. His gaze was soft now, yet I could see the monster lurking just beneath.  

"H..aan," I stammered, too afraid to say anything else.  

He hummed in satisfaction, a crazed smile spreading across his face.  

He looked alike a maniac. 

"Chalo, Dilroz, sabko akhiri alvida keh do," he said, dragging her out of the room by her hair. 

I stood there, frozen, until the crying sound of Badi Ammi’s voice pulled me back. I ran, avoiding the sight of Dilroz’s fallen arm. My heart raced as I stumbled into the hallway.  

The haveli’s grand staircase was painted red with her blood as he dragged her body without any care. Her agonized screams echoed through the house, but no one moved to stop Rafiq.  

The stairs were so horrific to even look at. 

"Dalia, kahan haath lagaya isne tumhe, babydoll? Main wahi maarunga isse. Batao mujhe," Rafiq called out from the stairs, his voice sweet like sugar but terrifying.  

I shook my head, unable to speak.  

"Tsk, main toh bhool hi gaya. Iske gande khoon par meri rani thodi chalegi." He smiled carzily and, in one swift motion, scooped me up in his arms.  

I cried softly, horrified by everything.  

"Shhh, bas. Tumhe tamasha dikhana hai," he whispered, his voice chilling. He descended the stairs, carrying me as if I weighed nothing.  

Dilroz’s bloodied body lay crumpled on the floor. When I tried to turn away, Rafiq held me close, keeping me still, holding my shoulder. 

"Batao," he demanded again, his tone laced with warning.  

When I didn’t answer, his hand moved toward my back, as if he remembered that I hissed whenever he touched my back in past 3 days. 

The sharp pain that followed made me hiss, and his expression darkened.  

His grip tightened on his knife. Then he knelt beside Dilroz and stabbed her in the back. 

Again and Again. 

"Rafiiiqqqq!!!!" Badi Ammi’s desperate voice rang out.  

I collapsed to the back, sobbing uncontrollably but someone held me from falling.

 It wasn’t Dilroz’s pain that made me cry—it was Rafiq’s. He was losing himself to his rage.  

As if he was feeling the pain that I had endured in past months. 

"Meri Dalia ko maara tune, madarchod! Rafiq ki Dalia ko koi kuch nahi kar sakta!" He stabbed her again, marking every word with a violent thrust.  

Dilroz’s body went limp, her screams dying out.  

"Rafiq, woh mar jayegi," Adil Bhaijaan said, his calm voice steady as he if he was not used to seeing this. 

"Nahi, nahi." Rafiq stood, running a hand through his disheveled hair, fixing them, as if nothing had happened.

"Yeh marni nahi chahiye. Dalia ke har aansu ka hisaab lena hai isse mujhe."  

Adil nodded, understanding the unspoken order from Rafiq. 

Dilroz was dragged away, her lifeless body leaving behind a trail of blood. Zaid and Adil bhaijaan both left with her body to basement. 

Rafiq turned to me, cleaning the bloodied knife on his shirt. His gaze met mine—calm, almost tender.  

"Dalia. Chalo, kamre mein, baby," he said, smiling softly.  

I shook my head, backing away until Badi Ammi pulled me into her arms.  

"Rafiq, bas. Woh darr rahi hai," she said gently, holding me close.  

"Darr rahi hai? Mujhse? Kyun? 

Kya maine usse abuse kiya? 

Kya maine uspe haath uthaya? 

Kya maine usse gaaliyan di? 

Kya mai dalia ko ussi ke ghar me sab ki naak ke niche maarta tha?" 

His questions rang through the silence, each one cutting hearts.  

The answer was No. 

He was my saviour. My heart yelled at that moment. 

"Dali-" 

"Paas bhi mat jana usske Phupho!!" Rafiq yelled and I realised that my father was present there as well. 

"Rafiq, beti hai woh uski" dadajaani said in sad tone. 

"Yeh baap kehelne ke layak nahi hai dadajaani! Sab kuch inke saamne tha fir bhi yeh Dalia ko bacha na sake." He 

said with anger and badi ammi patted my hair when i cried more. 

I looked around to Anisa, Choti ammi crying and even my father was crying. 

Dadajaani, Rafiq's and Zaid's father was silent but anger was evident. 

"Dalia ab yahi rahegi, mere paas!" he declared, wrapping his arms around me protectively.  

"Agar isse yahan le jaana ho, toh pehle mera janaza nikal dena." His voice was calm but commanding, sending a chill through everyone in the room.  

"Dalia, bachi," Dadajani called softly. His eyes asked the unspoken question: 

What do you choose?

My old life? Or my savior?  

Abuse? Or care?

And I chose to be selfish.  

I shook my head and ducked my head down, as my reply. 

"Mai sharminda hu. Mujhe nahi pata tha--" my father couldn't complete his words, maybe in shame. 

Rafiq kissed my hair gently and murmured, "Sleep," as though he could sense the exhaustion weighing me down from my body. 

With trembling hands, I clung to Rafiq. For the first time in years, I chose myself.  

I slipped into unconsciousness, with unshakable belief that my saviour would never allowing any force in this world to harm me ever again.

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