Chaos in the Canvas √

17 | unveil

"Your heart and my heart are very, very old friends."
- Hafiz

Monday - 2:21am

Everything made perfect sense.

Absolute sophistication in absolute ways and everything had so easily fallen back in its place; all the missing pieces of puzzle had come together to a flawless realization; all the threads of chaos untying them in the midst of his mind.

But the cost he paid to come to this final realization was heavy, almost equal to the earth and all its inhabitants combined. The cost he paid was the peace of his heart, the sanity of his mind and above all, the woman the world knew as his. Hemayal Khakwani was Ibrahim Yazdani's - it was a fact inscribed in the lines of their palms, but right now, he did not know.

The realization and revelation had come as a blow; a final one amongst all the layers of confusions that meddled with his mind, surrounded him from ever single inch. Not a hundred thousand years would have been enough to prepare him for the bomb that was blown right above his head, sucking the living breath out of him as it did.

Hemayal Khakwani was the woman he kidnapped, his wife, and Ibrahim swore to God nothing in his life had ever made him feel so helpless, not even the accident of his mother. His mother's accident was largely his fault, but even then, nobody blamed him because it was irrevocable and accidental. But this action, this was entirely and majorly his fault. It was the consequence of his anger and pain and he knew that this time, nobody would forgive him, especially his wife.

Today is your day, Ibrahim Yazdani. But tomorrow you'll come to know who I actually am and then it will be my day.

Her bitterly said words rang in his ears and he gulped, hard. The flushed face, the wounded figure, the broken voice appeared behind the heavy lids and he closed his eyes in immense pain.

She knew.

She knew from the beginning that it was him while he was even oblivious of the fact that the woman he was scarring for her entire life was his wife. Had he known, he would not have dared harm a single hair of her head - but that was where all the trouble lied.

He did not know and the actions were now irrevocably done.

And finally, the one haunting question came back to bite him again - how could he not recognize her? Yes, Ibrahim had not seen her eyes since eight years but will that excuse be enough to save him when the time comes? She had changed over the years, so much and so beautifully, but he was never given with a right to forget how she looked. He was supposed to recognize her on the first glance but unfortunately, he did not and that was where all the chaos started.

Ibrahim, standing by the window sill after way past midnight, staring ahead at the magnitude of nothingness that was spread before his eyes, at the black sky that threatened to engulf him, he felt regret and pain crawling up his skin, slithering up the spine that had so venomously been rigid in front of the woman he abducted.

And in that moment, he longed for forgiveness, for ridding himself of the terrible ache that seemed to choke his heart, for freeing his mind from the captivity of the events of that cursed night from a week ago. But even as he desired, he knew how horribly false he was, and how immense difficulties lied in front of him.

And I swear to God, I won't forgive you then.

Hemayal Khakwani's last words rang his eardrums and he exhaled a shaky breath, limbs trembling - out of coldness or regret, he did not know. Hemayal would never forgive him, not even in a million years, and the worst part of it was the fact that she was right in her decisions. She refused to meet him when he asked - it was enough of the glimpse in the future that laid ahead for them.