| Hawaaon Ke Paighaam | Messages Of The Wind | A Tere Bin AU

| Moscow |

The plain off white shalwar kameez, this time immaculately pressed with the sleeves all the way down and buttoned and the collars as straight as arrows - a world away from how it'd all been a few nights ago in his wife's room - all pointed towards him now winding down after a long day. His usual attire for dinner, especially in company was always more formal even at home.

"Asalam alaikum." his voice called out to her and she smiled at the sound of her firstborn, genuinely happy to see him.

As she returned his greeting, he walked to her, bending down and letting her run a hand over his freshly washed hair before he sat down. It had been ages since it had been like this; just the two of them and no obvious tension lingering between.

"Kaise aana huwa, betay?"

He looked up as he shook out a napkin and laid it on his lap, nodding at her to begin. As the food was ladled into her plate, he sat back.

"Karachi mein kaam khatam hogaya hai filhal." Salma Begum nodded, keeping her expression neutral and thinking if he was being literal or if his words were because his wife had flown back to Doha today, as informed by Anila. "Aur Doha mai kaam kaafi pile up hogaya hai. Wahan chakkar lagana hai." She nodded, dismissing the coincidences and the way his words seemed to be giving nothing away even though she would bet, if were a betting woman, that the two would now meet in Doha.

But that was between those two. For now. What she needed to focus on was what was between herself and her son, who was now too distant, too reserved; even more so that he had been before.

"Shaadi bohat araam se hogayi, Alhumdulillah." She began carefully, taking a delicate spoonful of the rice and he took a sip of water.

He nodded, glancing at her before going back to his plate. She knew he was too well mannered, too controlled to ever just shut her out or cut her off, but she was a mother after all. She knew when her child, even one who had always been rebellious, was scarily close to finally become a total rebel. And that hurt her more than it worried her. Who did she have other than Murtasim and Maryam in this world?

"Tumne sab bohat ache se dekha, betay." She praised firmly, as she had always done without coddling. "Tamaam mehman, kaam, tayaarian. Sab behtereen thay. Humesha ki tarha." She watched as he nodded casually again, focusing on his dinner. Salma Begum took a pause and sip of water. "Tumhari begam ne bhi apni zimmedariyan ache se sambhalin."

There was a slight silence as he paused, reached over to fork some salad onto his plate before he slid his eyes to her for a second or two. She kept her ground, keeping her face neutral and willing him to see her words for what they were; an olive branch.

It really was. She didn't even fully understand how it had happened. Whilst a smoother relationship with her son was the biggest motivator, deep down, she knew that the shift inside her had happened after the God-awful news of the car-bombing. She had lain down to sleep for the past three nights since returning to the haveli, and had seen Meerab's face in front of her eyes until she somehow found sleep.

Meerab; almost frozen to touch, eerily still and with the thick, invisible cloak of shock and grief wrapped over her. Meerab, who had silently stood up, taken her arm and looked back at their panchayat audience with utmost calm and emotionless. Her daughter in law had singlehandedly managed to avoid a public frenzy, a very public breakdown and had gotten her from the middle of the lawn to inside their waiting car without shedding a tear or breaking a gasp.

She didn't remember much due to the shock, but the hazy flashes that would creep up on just before she fell asleep told her one thing in no uncertain terms.

'Sher ke saath sherni hi achi lagti hai.'

Her rebellious, trouble maker daughter in law had more substance than Salma Begum had initially pegged her to possess.