Fair & Square (A Love Tale )Written by Uzma Zia

🇵🇰Uzmaziaofficial1
  • --
    chs / week
  • --
    NOT RATINGS
  • 15.2k
    Views
Synopsis

Chapter 1 - Chapter No.1

Fair & Square

Written by Uzma Zia

Chapter 1

It was a beautiful morning with dark skies. There were dark clouds in the sky. It was supposed to be evening, not morning. She wanted to hide somewhere immediately, but she couldn't. Even though she was afraid of the black sky and thunderclouds. Her job was to erase all her fears and go to the event. She took off her black shirt and light blue pants from the cupboard and got ready to go to the event.

The time was almost 11 a.m.

As soon as Mrs D'Souza came to wake her up, she was surprised to see her ready.

"The weather is getting really bad, Rosie. Do you have to go today?" Concerns were evident in her tone.

"Yes, Mom...I have to go ..." Rosie tied her hair in a ponytail and applied light pink lipstick.

"Rosie ... it's a foreign country .... not India ... and you don't even know the roads here ..." She said in an explanatory manner.

Rosie hung her handbag on her shoulder and hugged her mom.

"I will manage as I always do... please Mom, don't worry... Pray for me Mom ... nothing will happen ..." She kissed her on the cheek.

"If the landlord comes, there is no need to open the door. I will send money to his account." She picked up the umbrella on the side of the bed and left.

She left, but Mrs D'Souza was in trouble. She knew very well how much Rosie was afraid of the black sky and the thunder of the clouds.

*************

(Time: 11:30 a.m.) (Place: Bus stop)

She had just arrived at the bus stop when the clouds began to thunder. As soon as she got on the bus, she immediately put her hand over her ears and closed her eyes. Her heart was about to come out. At the same time, she felt a hand on her hand. She immediately opened her eyes.

The girl sitting next to her was very beautiful. Seeing her deep blue eyes and cut hair on her forehead, she felt as if a doll was sitting next to her.

"Don't worry dear ... everything is fine ..." She said this in Hindi Accent by looking into her deep brown eyes.

Rosie was shocked to hear the Hindi accent in her mouth. She thought she was a British girl but she was speaking English with a clear Hindi Accent.

"Are you Indian ??" Rosie immediately asked.

She nodded...

"Then ??" Rosie said with questioning eyes.

"Enemy country..." she laughed. "I'm from your enemy country ..."

She blinked.

Rosie incomprehensibly looked at her.

"I am from Pakistan dear ... My name is Arsh ... and you ??" At last, she spoke in a very friendly manner.

At the first meeting, she was talking to her without hesitation.

"And you ??" Arsh asked.

"Rosie..." She said so and then looked out of the bus window at the sky.

"Are you afraid of the thunder of the clouds ??" She laughed at her condition.

In reply, Rosie looked at her in tears.

"I'm extremely sorry ..." Now Arsh became serious.

"No, it's OK," Rosie replied with a clear heart.

"Can I ask where you are going?" Arsh asked.

"Harrow, for an event," Rosie replied.

"Oh! Wow! Which event?"

"Pakistan Independence Day event." She said in a normal way.

"You are an Indian? Right?" Arsh was surprised.

Rosie nodded with affirmation.

"Then how could you manage this event?"

"It's my job, Ma'am. So, I have to..." She replied in a severe mood with less smile.

The bus stopped at Harrow station.

"Anyhow. See you there. I have an invitation to that event." She smiled and went off.

Rosie called Manager Asif Mir to know the exact location of the event.

"Yes Sir! I am there." She put the phone to her ear.

****************

Place: Lahore Resort Restaurant, UK.

She managed all the events in a good way. It took eight hours to prepare all the items related to the event. She guides her team to use green, white, and Saffron themes for it. Everyone admired her. This brought a smile to her face.

She smiled after ten days. What happened ten days before? She just wanted to forget that night. This is why she wanted to keep herself busy with the colours of the world.

At 11:30 p.m. the richest person in the Muslim Community, "Mr Ahan Yousuf", visited there. All the audience stands in honour of Mr Ahan Yousuf, who is the son of the richest man, Yousuf Raza. His business was spread all over London. And he used to attend every Pakistani event there.

His personality was attractive, but the pride on his nose was obvious to everyone. This is why everyone used to speak to him with great care.

As soon as he arrived, the media also arrived.

The ceremony hall was beautifully decorated with the help of white, green, and Saffron colours. There was excitement and joy everywhere.

Everyone was talking, holding a glass of Pepsi in their hands.

He took a look over there. And after a deep silence, he questioned. "Who used this colour theme?" He shouted in a low voice.

The manager motioned Rosie to be quiet.

"Yes Sir? Is there anything wrong?" He stepped forward.

"Take a look at this theme. Where do you think this is the theme of Pakistan's independence? Why did you put the piece of the Indian flag in it?

The faces of all the Indians present there became pale. Complete silence was there.

"Sir, there is little time left until midnight. We thought all Indians here should also wish for their Independence Day." The manager showed a little bit of strategy to cover the matter.

"Whatever! Remove the Saffron colour of the Indian flag in this theme." He ordered.

"But why? When all Indians are here to celebrate your Independence Day, why not you?" She went ahead and answered with full courage.

The manager, Asif Mir, again signalled her to stay quiet.

"So, what happened to you?" He spoke with a smirk.

Rosie did not answer him.

"Look madam ... you must tame the Indians, but our event should be ours. These two events can never be celebrated together." Now he said with a sigh of relief.

"Who are you to say this?" She said rudely.

"If we Indians can come to your event then, why can't this event be celebrated together? Would you please answer this? Her question made Mr Ahan unanswerable.

.

.

to be continued ....