Scene One
After Zuhr – The Soyem Fatiha
The house was quieter than the first two days, but the grief had settled deeper—no longer loud, no longer raw, just heavy.
After Zuhr namaz, the men gathered in the drawing room. Mats were laid neatly on the floor. The women sat separately in the TV lounge, heads covered, voices lowered.
The Imam sahab from the nearest mosque sat at the front, his presence calm and dignified. The murmur of people settling down slowly faded.
He cleared his throat gently and began.
"Bismillah-ir-Rahman-ir-Raheem…"
The recitation of Soyuka Fatihah flowed through the house—measured, soothing, final. Verses of mercy, forgiveness, and eternal peace filled the air. Heads bowed. Eyes closed. Hands raised.
"Allahumma aghfir lahu warhamhu…"
"Ya Allah, Hameed sahib ki maghfirat farma…"
Kulsoom aunty sat with her hands raised, lips trembling, tears sliding silently down her cheeks. Rimsha sat beside her, one arm protectively around her shoulders. Maryam sat close, her presence steady, grounding.
Imran sat among the men, his gaze lowered, hands open in dua. The words of the Imam reached him, but his heart kept drifting back—to memories, to moments, to a voice he would never hear again.
The Imam concluded softly.
"Ameen."
A collective whisper followed.
"Ameen."
---
Scene Two
Lunch Served – Formality Without Hunger
Lunch was served quietly.
Large dishes were placed—simple, respectful food. Plates were passed around. Guests began eating, more out of custom than appetite.
"Bohat afsos hua," one neighbor said gently to Imran.
"Allah aap ko sabr de," another added.
Imran nodded, murmuring a soft "Shukriya," his plate barely touched.
Rimsha sat with the women, Fatima asleep in her lap. She stared at the food in front of her without really seeing it.
Maryam noticed.
She leaned closer and whispered, "Kuch khaa lo, Rimsha."
Rimsha shook her head slightly. "Gala band ho jata hai," she replied in a low voice.
Maryam didn't insist—not now.
Kulsoom aunty pushed her plate away after two bites.
"Mujh se nahi khaya ja raha," she said quietly.
No one argued.
Grief had stolen hunger from all of them.
---
Scene Three
Evening – The House Empties
By late afternoon, guests began leaving one by one.
Some stood at the door longer than necessary, offering final condolences.
"Koi kaam ho toh batana,"
"Hum qareeb hi hain,"
"Allah aap ko himmat de…"
Shoes were worn. Doors opened and closed. Footsteps faded.
By the time evening approached, the house—once crowded with voices—fell into an unfamiliar stillness.
Curtains swayed gently in the breeze.
The silence was loud.
Three days had passed.
Three long days without Hameed sahib.
---
Scene Four
Maryam's Advice – A Sister's Duty
Maryam sat beside Rimsha on the sofa. Fatima slept soundly, her head resting against Rimsha's arm.
Maryam watched Imran disappear into the bedroom earlier. Kulsoom aunty sat quietly nearby, staring at nothing.
Maryam spoke softly, carefully.
"Rimsha…"
Rimsha turned.
"Teen din ho gaye hain," Maryam said gently. "Tum ne bhi theek se kuch nahi khaya. Imran ne bhi nahi. Aur Ammi bhi…"
Rimsha lowered her gaze.
Maryam continued, her tone firm but loving.
"Agar tum mazboot rahogi, toh woh bhi sambhal jaayenge."
Rimsha swallowed.
"Imran ke paas jao," Maryam said. "Us ke saath baitho. Us se baat karo. Usay khanay ke liye manao."
Rimsha hesitated. "Agar us ne mana kar diya toh?"
Maryam placed her hand over Rimsha's.
"Woh tumhari baat sunay ga," she said with certainty. "Aur jab tum khud khana shuru karogi, shayad Ammi bhi khana kha lein."
Rimsha nodded slowly.
"Tum meri bari behn ho," she said quietly. "Tum jo kehti ho… main samajh jaati hoon."
Maryam squeezed her hand. "Jaao."
---
Scene Five
Bedroom – A Son With His Memories
The bedroom door was half open.
Rimsha pushed it gently and stepped inside.
Imran sat at the edge of the bed, his back slightly hunched. His phone was in his hands. The room was quiet except for the soft hum of the ceiling fan.
He didn't look up.
Rimsha walked closer and sat beside him.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Imran turned the phone toward her.
"Dekho," he said quietly.
It was a picture.
A younger Imran stood beside Hameed sahib, holding a trophy almost too big for his arms. His smile was wide, proud. Hameed sahib's hand rested firmly on his shoulder.
"Yeh meri eighth class ka final exam tha," Imran said softly. "First position aayi thi."
Rimsha smiled faintly through tears.
"Abbu ne khud trophy uthai thi mere liye," Imran continued. "Kehtay thay, 'Mera beta champion hai.'"
He swiped to the next picture.
Another trophy. Cricket uniform. A younger Imran, sweaty and triumphant.
"School cricket team ka captain tha," he said. "Final jeet gaye thay."
His voice broke.
"Abbu poora match dekh kar aaye thay," he whispered. "Office se chutti le kar…"
Rimsha reached out and gently held his hand.
---
Scene Six
Rimsha Speaks – A Daughter-in-Law's Truth
Fatima stirred slightly in Rimsha's lap.
Rimsha carefully placed her on the bed beside them, covering her gently.
Then she turned fully toward Imran.
"Imran," she said softly.
He looked at her.
"Mujhe yaad hai jab main is ghar mein pehli dafa aayi thi," Rimsha began. "Mujhe darr lag raha tha."
Imran listened quietly.
"Lekin Abbu… Hameed uncle," she corrected herself gently, "unhon ne mujhe beti ki tarah treat kiya."
Her eyes filled.
"Unhon ne kabhi mehsoos nahi honay diya ke main sirf bahu hoon," she said. "Har faislay mein, har baat mein… woh mere walid jaisay thay."
Imran's lips trembled.
"Unhon ne hamesha kaha," Rimsha continued, "ke Imran bohat zimmedar beta hai. Mera beta sambhal lega."
She squeezed his hand.
"Ab woh sach hona chahiye," she said softly.
Imran looked down.
"Mujh se nahi ho raha, Rimsha," he whispered. "Dil nahi maanta…"
Rimsha leaned closer.
"Dil ko waqt lage ga," she said. "Lekin jism ko zinda rehna hota hai."
She paused.
"Agar tum nahi khaogay, agar main nahi khaungi… toh Ammi ka kya hoga?"
Imran closed his eyes.
---
Scene Seven
Convincing Him – One Step Forward
Rimsha spoke again, more firmly now.
"Aaj raat hum sab saath khana khayenge," she said. "Bas chup chaap. Koi baat nahi. Koi gup nahi."
Imran hesitated.
"Tum meri baat maan lo," Rimsha added softly. "Sirf aaj."
Imran took a deep breath.
Then slowly, he nodded.
"Thora sa," he said. "Bas thora sa."
Rimsha exhaled in relief.
"Bas kaafi hai," she said gently.
---
Scene Eight
Dining Table – Waiting in Silence
The dining table was set.
Maryam, DSP Haroon, Ubaid, Irfan, and Kulsoom aunty sat quietly.
No television. No chatter.
Just plates. Food. And unspoken prayers.
Ubaid sat unusually still for an eight-year-old, glancing at his mother.
Irfan clutched his spoon tightly, eyes darting toward the hallway.
Kulsoom aunty sat with her hands folded, waiting.
Then footsteps.
Rimsha and Imran entered together.
Maryam looked up, her eyes softening instantly.
Kulsoom aunty straightened.
Imran pulled out a chair for Rimsha.
They sat.
No one spoke.
They began eating slowly.
One bite.
Then another.
Kulsoom aunty watched Rimsha eat… and then picked up her own spoon.
Maryam noticed.
Her eyes filled quietly.
---
Closing Scene
A Family That Eats Together
Dinner ended without conversation.
But it ended with plates that were not untouched.
That mattered.
Haroon stood up first.
"Shukriya, Allah ka," he said softly.
No one replied—but everyone felt it.
Later, as the table was cleared, Maryam looked at Rimsha with quiet pride.
Rimsha looked back—tired, broken, but standing.
Three days had passed.
Grief was still there.
But tonight, the family had taken its first step forward—together.
---
End of Chapter