𝐏𝐚𝐚𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧 | 𝟏𝟖+

پہلا باب : خواہش کی فطرت

اس نے اسے وہ چیز دی جو وہ سب سے زیادہ
چاہتی تھی۔ اس نے اسے اپنی خواہش کا
احساس دلایا-

"𝙃𝙚 𝙜𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙨𝙩. 𝙃𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙙𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙧𝙚𝙙."

•••

In the heart of a bustling Pakistani village, there existed a man whose presence was as enigmatic as the desert nights. Zafar, known for his brooding demeanor and charming aura, was a figure both feared and revered.

His dark eyes, capable of piercing through the most intricate of secrets, and his strong jawline, etched with the marks of a man who bore the weight of the world, made him an enigma to the simple folk of the village.

The terrace of his grand abode offered a panoramic view of the village, where Zafar would often be seen, a solitary figure lost in thought. His brooding silence was a testament to his complex nature, a man who was as charismatic as he was serious.

The villagers, from afar, would watch him with a mix of fear and admiration, for they knew that beneath his brooding exterior lay a mind capable of greatness.

In the midst of his usual solitude, Zafar received an unexpected summons from his friend, a jovial soul known for his love of grand jashn.

Despite Zafar's initial protests, citing the urgency of their ongoing project, his friend's insistence won out.

Upon arriving at the Chaudhary Haveli, Zafar found himself in a whirlwind of color and sound. The celebration was in full swing, with the air thick with the scent of spices and the melody of traditional music.

His friend, ever the charismatic host, drew him into the heart of the festivities, where the dance floor awaited.

The meeting with his past was a poignant reminder of the path he had chosen. Zafar, despite his reputation for being a heartthrob, had always been wary of leading anyone on.

His encounters were fleeting, his affections genuine but guarded. The Chaudhary Haveli, with its air of romance and nostalgia, brought these truths to the forefront of his mind.

Upon entering the Chaudhary Haveli, Zafar was greeted by the intoxicating blend of spices and the rhythmic beats of traditional music.

The air was charged with the camaraderie of men reveling in the moment, with the soft glow of oil lamps casting dancing shadows on the walls.

As the night deepened, Zafar found himself in a corner, the laughter and music a distant echo.

The Nawab, with his piercing gaze and a presence that commanded attention, dialed his underworker, Bashir.

The phone call was a lifeline in the chaos of his world, a moment to inquire about the mundane and find solace in the routine.

"Assalamu alaikum, saab. sb khariat se hai na?" (sir, is everything okay?)

"Oye kuch vi nai, bus deray de khabr leni si. Sab sahi the na raha hai na? Is dafa tu koi bhenchodi mari the me tenu chorna nai ae."
The nawab imprecated.

( Nothing, I just wanted to know about the situation at the dera. If you fuck up this time, I won't leave you!)

The Nawab, unable to contain his exasperation, let loose a string of imprecations that were as colorful as the bazaars of Old Lahore. Bashir, taking it all in stride, assured the Nawab that everything was under control, much to the Nawab's relief.

"Nai nai saab, sb theek, thaak ja reya hai, allhumdulillah."

( No no everything's okay sir, thank god.)

"Hmm." The nawab expressed a desire to cut the call.

Enter Bakhtiyar, a friend with a heart as vibrant as the city's nightlife. His arrival was like a gust of wind, bringing with it a wave of energy and a dash of humor that lightened the Nawab's mood. Or not.

"Oye tu ki hemaisha kaam kaaj ki fikr karda renda ae, tenu is maksad de naal nai le rar ayan."

(What is wrong with you, you're always busy with work.)

His friend Bakhtiyar verbalized:.

"Thora jeya-o ki kenda nay-uh tension! Tension tu door reya kar meray yaar!" He energetically exclaimed. ( Just-- what do you call it-- yeah! Tension! be tension free.)

"Tu ye chup hi reya, kar."
Badr grumbled. ( You should shut your mouth.)

It was then that a tawaeef, a woman known for her mesmerizing dance, appeared before the gathered men.

Her performance was a whirlwind of colors and movements, captivating the onlookers with her art.

The performance of the tawaeef stirred a mix of emotions within Zafar.

Their eyes met, locking in a prolonged gaze that seemed to stretch time itself. In that extended moment, a silent exchange of unspoken thoughts and feelings unfolded, serving as a stark reminder of the world outside his focused life-a world brimming with fleeting pleasures and profound connections.

Her eyes cradled his heart in a way that no words could express. Zafar felt a skip in his heart, a sensation both foreign and familiar, as he realized the profound impact of their encounter.

As he continued to watch, lost in the depths of their shared gaze, he pondered the nature of desire and the transient nature of human interactions.

•••

The first two are just the preludes to the main leads, so that's why they're more detailed. The genuine story's going to commence after the intros and fundamentals.