They were sitting in the big room of the police headquarters. The two detectives in front of them and the police standing beside them. Their arms crossed on their chests.
"So, how did you find it was Johnson Peters who killed your brother?" The detective asked.
"Dr. Harris met me one day in the coffee shop near my apartment and recognized me as the sister of his daughter's friend; my brother, Maaz Qureshi. He took me to the ruined, the exploded reign of the school where a lot souls got extracted out of their bodies. He told me that my brother and his daughter overheard this secret of the school's principle and to justify it they started looking into school's matters. But since they were not the experts, Johnson Peters set the explosive and got out. The cps in the area were under his instructions so the people couldn't do anything. They were threatened and the media was told to cover up the news and this topic was buried." She said. Her washed spot face looked much better that day. Taimur beside him was now answering another question and she was lost in Maaz's words echoing in her ears.
"Sister, you are always bold. I am inspired." He was saying.
She laughed. "Of course I am bold. I am not like you, afraid of the world." She said, chuckling. Maaz made a face. "One day, you are going to be proud of me telling people that I am as brave as you are." And she giggled again.
She smiled at the thought. She could see how these words had brought her here in the headquarters of the place she never assumed even in her dreams.
She felt herself walking out. After walking half of the street, Taimur turned to her. "You should see this." And he brought out some papers from the bag he was wearing at his side.
"What's this?" She asked. Now focused.
"See yourself." She took the papers. They were the emails and some other documents. She flipped through them, until her eye caught one email's subject: Qureshi's down. And her heart throbbed badly enough to alarm her that something was definitely wrong. She looked up at Taimur and he was looking at her in anticipation. "Yeah, I know. Take your time. I will drop you home." He said. And she followed him.
"I set the explosive. Media under control. News under control. No one is going to suspect. I faked some wounds. That Qureshi girl and her brother are dead so there is probably no end to this other rope. Finally flying to your city." The words hammered her and tortured her even more than the nightmare. She kept thinking about it and numerous thoughts took birth in her mind and she jerked all of them. It was midnight and Zoha was sleeping beside her. Her chest bandaged and some old injuries on her arms. She slipped her fingers in her hair and wondered when was her crisis ever gonna end. The view of her eyes slipped to the person beside Zoha. It was Zimal. Her silver hair tied in a lose bun and her tired eyes looking at her. She got terrified for a second. She didn't know was up.
"What's going on?" She asked. Minha nodded, trying not to speak because she knew if she spoke, she'll cry. She'll lose it. But in the end, it doesn't even matter. She had travelled so far. Lost so much. She can't afford to lose a sister.
"Tell me, what happened. How did Maaz die? Even after bringing the company down, I still can't have peace at heart. Be honest, Zimal." She said, looking at Zimal sitting up. She was quiet for a minute.
And at the same night, the moon peaked inside to listen to the real story this time. The same moon who had been listening to any stories of many people at all times. And at time she wondered how many stories could there be.
"I knew about the victim playing, the racism, and the illegal trade. I and Rohail looked into it. And helped Maaz figure out the history. I know as an elder sister I should have told him not to get involved but by the time I came to know about it, it was late. He was persistent. I thought I'd help him and then in the end this would stay an unpublished story." She was saying.
The movie replaying itself. "But somehow rumors started spreading and the head was in danger. They set the explosive and turned the whole school into ashes." She said. The story that was being heard for 100th time didn't make them cry any more. It didn't make them sad anymore. It didn't scared them anymore. It was start of March. Already the fifth year since Maaz had been turned into a dead guy.
"I know this version of the story. What's your version of it, Zimal?" She asked in a creaky voice. The almost-twin sister of hers nodded. "I pushed him. I spoke about it louder in the restroom so the pion hears me." She said and the move replayed. She gulped down the big lump.
She was wearing a skirt. Her brown bag hanging on her shoulder. Her hair were tied up in a ponytail. Maaz was standing in front of him, his face above the washing basin. The tap was leaking. Zimal glanced outside of the restroom. The door was half open and she could see the pion in blue uniform approaching the lavatory. She licked her lips. "Maaz, admit it already. Everyone knows it was me. Why don't you just say it and leave? You are not going to be in danger!" she exclaimed. The anxious Maaz swept his brown hair and dared at her. "What are you saying, Zimal? How can I lie and leave you all? You do know you will be paying for this, along with Minnie who isn't even involved in it." He walked with his blood shot eyes near Zimal. She gasped and looked away but didn't move. The pion outside stopped in his shoes and started listening to the conversation of the siblings. "Don't you know how much I love her? Don't you know what they do t girls who disobey them? Don't you know they are beast? No, Zimal, I am afraid of the world like Minha said but I am not a coward. I can protect my sister's from the wild monsters. And you will see it."
Zimal stared back in his eyes. Her nose was red and she was scared. "Maaz, No one's going to know you did it. Your friends are in danger. Johnson Peters will never know it was you, Maaz. Think. Minha was never someone. Let her go." Maaz looked at her in disappointment. "What's wrong with you, Zee?" and he slammed the watch on his wrist on the wall. A gift from Zimal.
He left. And she bawled on the floor where the watch was lying broken. She picked up and murmured, sorry, to herself.
The tears came back. Minha was sitting in front of her with a white face. She was pale. She was astounded. She looked even worse than the stroke attack. Her hand held above her chest and her mouth open.
"Why did you do that?" she couldn't run away this time without the answers. She couldn't run away from the truth. She had to bear it.
"I have to do it, Min. I had to. If I wouldn't have, they would have never let him live. I knew if they'd find out it was him, they'd kill him. But if they found out it wasn't him, they would have captured all the kids from school. And they would have killed him multiple times before he actually died. They would have slaved us along with the other girls and what you did last month would have never happened. I had faith in my God and I knew his sacrifice won't go wasted." She was saying and the Minha in front of her was white as ghost, tears slipping down from her eyes. They seemed to be an ocean of salty memories and tears.
"I told him that you were nothing to us so that he won't hurt you. If he would have known that you were Maaz's weakness he would have searched you and would have eaten you like a wild wolf. I knew I had to set this up. A little coincidence to merge the other coincidences." Zimal said while crawling on the other side of the bed to Minha and she took her into her arms into a hug and she didn't hesitate.
"Why didn't you tell me?" she said in a low voice. Like a kid scared of knowing that ghosts exist.
"Because I knew if I tell you the truth, you'd never leave. And if you assumed that it was me behind his death, which I am, the first thing you would have done was to escape which you did. I did it to protect you, Minha. I am not going to ask you for forgiveness. I don't deserve it." She said and Minha wiped her face.
At that moment, she realized that there are many faces of a story. We would never really understand a person until we stand in their shoes. Life is disappointing and at the same time, it is a blessing. Life was serendipity. Serendipity. But it become a warren. Warren of stories. It was a miracle. Miracle for those who see and those who understand.
Life was Minha. Just the way pure water develops a baby, life develops marvelous phenomenon. And she was the source of perfect aurora to her family. Her broken family.
Flashbacks played in her mind like a movie.
2 days before, her house was packed with a lot of stuff. A lot of decoration pieces and a lot of new furniture. She was receiving a lot of gifts and money was transected into her bank account. It was a day off from all the interviews and shows.
Like a busy bee, she was racing everywhere. Wearing lose pink shirt and a White trouser beneath it, she looked beautiful. Her brown hair tied in a French braid and her face looked fresh. The house was decorated in balloons and other stuff. Zimal was in the kitchen and Karina was arranging the furniture. Where else, Little Zoha was blowing balloons and popping them herself.
It was her birthday. Her 17th birthday.
And her sister's engagement. Zimal and Rohail. She was happy for them.
"Minha go, get ready!" Kay came near her and offered her the juice. She took it, smiling. Then she gulped it down in one turn and headed towards her room. The light blue colored Maxi embraced the floor. She smiled and changed into it.
Putting on some light make up, she wore the bracelet her father gave her on her birthday. Already seemed like a decade. She put it on and looked at her self. She looked like a queen. The frozen queen. Last four years had made her a woman and the last four months had made her a strong woman. She could see her goals clearly. She smiled again.
Someone knocked on the door. "Yes?" She exclaimed. He didn't answer, instead he came inside and stood on the door. "Impressive Queen." He said. She didn't blush. "I know."
Taimur walked towards her, they were both now seen in the same frame of the mirror, facing each other.
He brought his hands forth displaying a crown. A crown glistening with gems and stones. It was beautifully embedded and he put it on the most beautiful woman ever. She smiled and looked at her reflection in the mirror. She deserved it and she was proud of it. The man at the back was standing with his hands in his pocket. She bent and opened the drawer, pulling out a velvet box. She opened it. There was a ring in it. A simple platinum ring. She took it out and pushed it in his finger. He smiled.
She looked at Zimal and crawled in her arms until the moon slept under the cloudy blankets.
They were together. Everyone was together.
They were sitting on the couches beside each other. Her makeup was still fresh and she was over joyed. While Taimur was hovering his arm around her neck and they both were looking above at the sky full of stars.
We spend our lives thinking that nothing is easy. That every decision we take, would always be terrifying, and a disastrous journey. But the truth is, it is easy for those who try to live it. Who care about rules? They were the survivors. They were the fighters. They were the Ghazi as Islam says.
They were flawless, but their clothes were dirty.
Life was a huge piece of pie. Those who chose to eat it would know the respected constituents and those who chose to walk away will always wander in that maze in search of the right constituents.
Our stories are connected. Our lives are a fuzzy network. It's like a maze. A labyrinth. Where we have to find our way on our own. We fight with each other, we compete with each other thinking that we need to get there first. But the reality speaks. Our destinations were always same. We were born to fight the maze together; to find a way out; because either wise we will always be obstacles in others' way and let others become obstacles in our way. Life speaks. And it yells. And it tells us to live it.
But most of us don't understand.
END