Cladded in an embroidered dress, a black scarf covering her head, she looked simple but was ready for the party as she stood waiting by the hostel entrance doors.
It was ten minutes later when Sasha finally appeared with two people at her heels.
"You aren't even ready!" She cried when her eyes landed on Mirha.
"I am."
"Oh. I'm sorry." She said and hastily added. "This is Leila by the way, and this is Rafay." Sasha said pointing at the two.
"Seriously, Sasha? Do introductions even matter at this point?"
"There's still time. You can back off, you know." Rafay said, his eyes on Mirha.
"Shut up, you." Sasha scowled, throwing him a glance.
Uncomfortable by his gaze, Mirha shifted slightly.
"Come on, let's get going already."
---
They got in a black City, parked outside the university gate by the curb. Rafay was driving with Sasha on the passenger seat and Mirha sat down with Leila at the back. She was nervous and maybe a little anxious for it was the first time she was going to a party, and that too held by rich, wealthy people. She didn't belong with them, Mirha knew, and was a little scared, all the reprimands her mind would like to give her, she blocked them with just one excuse; it was Hadi, she was going there for him, because he wanted her there.
The three of them kept talking amongst themselves, and Mirha stared out the window at the silent roads of the city that went by in a blur. Islamabad had never been a particularly dynamic city, never bustling with life, never always swarmed with people, never giving the impression that perhaps, it was indeed inhibited with living, breathing people, people with an equally active conscience. The night hung over them with a sense of gloom as if warning everyone of the possible threats lingering on the streets ahead. Hardly a car or two passed them on the road, street lights providing them with the illumination needed to find the way.
It wasn't long when Rafay turned his car into a neighborhood that was eerily silent with only the sound of leaves rustling and tyres crunching the gravel rising in the air. Rafay parked outside one of the two storey bungalows that ran along the lanes on both sides of the street. They got out and, pushing the gate open with a slight shove, stepped into the house. Mirha quietly followed them in and found herself in a significantly large front yard, with a perfectly mowed grass which felt like it had been freshly watered for the smell of the damp sand wafted in the air. People milled around by the refreshment table or by the front door on the porch, chatting incessantly amongst themselves, some of them she recognised as her seniors, and the rest she didn't and assumed were from other departments. The girls were all dressed in pretty, elegant dresses; miniskirts, off shoulders, dresses that exposed too much of their skin.
Mirha followed Sasha and Leila into the house through the double wooden doors, leaving Rafay behind with a group of others, one of them she recognised was Ma'az Rehman. Looking around, staring at random people she was only hoping to see the familiar face of the person she'd come here for, as Sasha pulled her into the throng of people and stopped by the staircase.
"You wait here, okay? Let me see if Hadi's here yet or not." Sasha said, her voice soft and warm, all too deceiving, as she assured her.
"Okay." Mirha nodded and watched her wedge her way through the mix of men and women, and then disappeared behind them.
---
Ma'az's parents had gone to attend a wedding in Lahore, taking with them his younger sisters who were free after their final exams, though Ma'az himself had stayed behind, if partly because he hated attending weddings of people he barely know, then partly also because of the party he was practically forced to hold at his house.
The entire senior batch had been planning for one, and even though countless ideas had come up, everyone had seemed wanting to go with Ma'az house.
And now, here they all were, the day marking their end of graduation, after which the only time they'd be getting together would be for convocation, then setting apart on their own separate ways.
Hadi was somewhat relieved that Mirha didn't come up between them again, everybody seemed to have forgotten about the promise. It was all Hadi could ever ask for. Now that everything seemed to be settling, he promised himself he'd tell her what he felt, clear things between them before she would leave for her village, tomorrow.
And later, if she agreed, he'd tell Bilal.
As he came out of the kitchen with a glass of wine, music at full volume blaring in the house, he froze, his entire body tensed. He couldn't breathe, couldn't blink, couldn't walk. The time itself had seemed to have stopped, all the voices from around him slipping away, the silence in his mind was only pierced by her laugh, an incredulous and an unexpected reaction to his offer, so rich in radiance when he had taken her to the cafeteria and asked her to have a biscuit.
There she was, dressed in a white embroidered dress, head covered in a black silk scarf, Mirha looked too out of place, like a fish out of water, among the people she wasn't quite noticeably at ease with. It wasn't the time to notice how breathtaking she looked, even this simple, even this plain, but Hadi couldn't possibly have ignored it too.
The time resumed, music streamed in, others came back into his vision but only when someone tapped him on the shoulder.
He turned around, much to his annoyance and saw Amjad, his hands shoved in the pockets, eyebrows raised.
"Dude I called out to you six fucking times!"
"Sorry," Hadi shook his head, uneasiness growing in his stomach, patience already waning, "what do you want?"
Amjad chuckled. "You're quite blunt, man." He said and when Hadi didn't respond, he added quickly, "Anyways, your father's the director of Maher Solar Enterprises, no?"
"Yeah."
"Do you think you could ask him to recommend me for a Forensic bureau member? He must be having all those prestigious meetings with all the business community and politicians, no?"
"Yeah sure."
"Cool. Thanks a lot, man." Amjab grinned as he smacked him on the shoulder.
"Right." Hadi said, and immediately turned not really in the mood for all of it. But when he looked around, his eyes desperately searching for her, Mirha wasn't there. He panicked, his heat almost jumping up to his throat. It was enough indication for what might have happened, and not in a thousand years, not for an entire fucking eternity could he allow it, could he bear it, could live with the nerve wrecking, mind numbing, heart wrenching guilt of it. He would have to erase his identity, all the memories he had of her, if he failed - to survive this. But he didn't want to do this. Didn't want to survive.
---