18. Trophy of victory

*****

*Part of the past*

.

Ziah had once heard from her mother that the only soft place in this cruel world was the prayer mat spread ahead for the ibadah and to think that her words were nothing but true made it a necessity for her to spend more time sitting on the mat than necessary after her prayer was finished.

Gently untying her dupatta that she had tied in a hijab, Ziah looked outside the haveli's large window in hopes of seeing something to brighten the start of her day. It was yet another one of those summery mornings that reminded her just how harsh the sun's rays could be and she didn't dare stand too close to the window.

Her eyes peeked at the bustling street a few gates away from the haveli's entrance, a small smile spread across her lips when she saw a woman clad in black abaya holding a knitted bag in her hands making way to the residence she was in.

Ziah stopped herself from squealing and quickly darted out of her room after placing the jah namaz at a nearby chair. The day had just begun and Ziah loved the way it started.

"Oye ladki, aise kaha bhagi ja rahi ho?"

The cold tone of Khurshida begum made her stop at the last stair. Her fists clutched the ends of her dupatta tightly and she took in a shaky breath, ready to open her mouth to reply but before she could, a soft knock on the huge oak doors made her sigh in relief.

Khurshida begum's scrutinizing gaze followed Ziah's moves. Her forefinger tapped gently on the ends of the hukka that she was smoking, something she was addicted to since a young age. Disregarding the young maiden when her eyes fell on the familiar hooded figure of the woman, she looked back into the newspaper for the daily updates.

Ziah's smile couldn't get anymore wide as she looked at the woman who took a step inside and lifted her niqab. The familiar blue orbs that resembled the clean flowing waters filled with glaciers twinkled with delight while her relatively small and thin lips pulled into a smile.

"Malak! Khudaya, mujhe toh bhul hi gayi thi tu."

Ziah hugged her tight, eliciting a giggle from the young woman who couldn't be anymore happy. The gloominess that surrounded her 24/7 was only rid off when she was in the presence of Ziah, someone she had started considering as her elder sister.

"Andar aao, upar chal kar baat karte hai."

Ziah took her hands in hers, both wrists equally fragile and dainty. An assuring squeeze later, Ziah guided Malak towards the staircase but froze when Khurshida begum snickered humorlessly from the charpai that she was seated on.

"Us manhus ke saaye mein zyada na raho, ladki. Uske sar ki baddua tumhe lag gayi toh Khuda jaane mere ghar ka kya hoga. Aye-"

Her eyes pointed at Malak who visibly flinched and took a step closer to Ziah. The latter gulped and wrapped her other hand around the lady.

"Kyu aa jaati hai baar baar yaha? Apne shauhar ko toh kha hi gayi hai, ab kya mere ghar bhi apna kala saaya bhichayegi?"

Ziah heard a small whimper from behind her and her heart broke into pieces. Mustering up the courage she had, she ignored Khurshida begum and quickly darted to her room with Malak tucked beside her.

Upon entering the modest sized room, she pulled in Malak with her and closed the doors, locking them for precautions.

Malak sniffled inaudibly, her eyes were trained on her lap but it all looked blurry with the constant water that kept getting stored in her eyes, falling down her cheeks without her permission.

"Malak? Aise ro toh nahi."

Ziah cooed gently at the 20 year old. Taking her face in between her palms, Ziah softly wiped away the tears that seemed too precious to be wasted.

"M-maine s-such mein kisi ka bura nahi c-chaha hai. Wo-woh kyu-"

"Shush, pata hai mujhe. Meri Malak toh ek makkhi ko bhi bina guilty feel kiye nahi maar sakti. Chup ho jao ab. Yeh log bas apne ghatiya gurur ko badane ke liye yeh sab bolte hai."

"A-aap nahi m-maanti unki baaton ko?"

She asked with a hesitant whisper. All her life she was treated as if she were a choice, never given the importance that she deserved. Being pushed into a shell so hard and tough to crack often came with unlimited insecurities and when the whole society around you, including your parents turned their back on you, it just felt a lot more devastating than it should.

Ziah rolled her eyes at the question and flicked the girl's forehead gently.

"Main pagal nazar aati hu tumhe?"

Her stern yet playful tone made Malak giggle. A childlike aura surrounded her form and Ziah couldn't help but sigh in dismay. Why was it always the good ones who ended up facing the toughest of trails?

"Acha, yeh sab chodo aur yeh batao, what did you bring for me today?"

An excited gleam spread across Malak's once sorrow filled eyes. The knitted bag in her hand was quickly pulled open and a round steel box along with a shawl came in view.

A gasp was what she heard from Ziah and smiled in accomplishment, feeling good about the fact that she liked it.

Removing the things from the bag, she forwarded the shawl to Ziah who hesitantly took hold of it.

"Yeh banarsi dupatta hai. Hum na ammi ke saath bhai ke nikah ke liye shopping pe gaye the, tab dekha tha ise. Hume bahot achi lagi toh humne aapke liye le li. Aapko achi l-lagi?"

Malak's excited chatter turned to a hesitant question and Ziah blinked, not knowing why she was even sent down from the heavens.

"Achi? Malak, Masha'Allah, tumhari pasand kitni khubsurat hai! Hume yeh bahot achi lagi!"

Ziah took Malak in a tight embrace and the latter 'phew-d' in relief, a sound that made the two of them chuckle amongst themselves.

"Aur yeh pyaaz ke pakode hai. Subah khana ka man kar raha tha toh hum dono ke liye banakar yaha le aae."

Malak opened the box and the smell of the still hot pakode filled their senses. Ziah quickly raced down towards the kitchen to bring ketchup and chutney to devour along with the desi delicacy.

And like any desi household would have it, the pakode were gulped down in record time without any guilt.

"Thodi der aur ruk jao, uske baad jaana."

Ziah tried to pacify Malak into staying for a little more time but the woman just shook her head in negative.

"Nahi appi, agar bi jaan ne dekh liye ki main abhi bhi bahar hu toh meri khair nahi."

Malak controlled herself from shivering and tied her niqab, just making her eyes visible for the world to see. Hugging Ziah one last time, she quickly walked out of the haveli and towards her own, praying to her Lord that she wouldn't get in trouble.

Ziah rubbed her right palm against her left elbow, a sick feeling settled in her guts as she saw Malak walking away. Shaking her head to stop any unwanted thoughts, she started making way towards her room again but was stopped by a voice that made her shiver on the spot.

"Oh bibi, yaha aao!"

The familiar male voice made her grit her teeth. Controlling her tongue to stop any bitter words from surfacing, she turned around to see Badar standing a few feet away from her with his usual expression of constipation.

"Ji?"

"Nikah ke liye amma se kya kaha hai tumne?"

Ziah knew the question would come sooner or later. Khurshida Begum had not so nicely asked her to marry Badar and even though Ziah knew she didn't have a choice, she didn't want to give in to this absurd demand.

"Nahi karni."

"Huh?"

A bewildered look was what Badar gave her. His eyes turned comically wide and lips slightly agape, as if he couldn't believe the audacity of the woman in front of him.

Composing himself as quickly as possible, Badar glared down at Ziah who felt the remnants of courage slipping out of her hold. Taking a few steps back from the man that was now raging, she immediately turned around to walk away but was pulled back by a harsh tug at her wrist. A shriek of surprise and pain left her lips as Badar twisted her wrist in a bruising force.

"Nahi karni? Awe, lekin karni padegi. Bhulo mat tumhare sar par chat kiski wajah se hai."

Badar taunted the woman who had tears gathering in her eyes. Never had she been manhandled like this, a few spiteful words but never physical force. Ziah tried to wriggle out of his hold. Her resistance was met with a harder grip and she swallowed down a cry of pain.

"Y-yeh haveli mere abbu ki hai. Yeh chat meri hai. Yaha par koi mehman hai toh woh tum aur tumhari amma hai."

Her words acted like a fuel to a blazing inferno. The next second she found herself being pushed to the ground harshly. A loud thud was what followed along with Ziah's painful whimper.

"Zaban kaichi ki tarah nahi chal rahi tumhari? Kyu Ziah bibi, khudko jhansi ki rani samajh baithi ho? Boj ho is ghar par tum aur boj raho gi. Shukr manao ki maine nikah ke liye hami bhar di warna saari zindagi sadti rehti."

"Toh sadne do. Woh manzoor hai lekin tumse nikah nahi."

Ziah gritted out the words as she sat up straight. Her ankle was left bruised when she tried to stand up properly. Stumbling a little on her steps, she matched the glare that Badar was giving her.

"Sadna manzoor hai? Theek hai phir. Tumhari yeh khwahish main puri kar deta hu."

Almost left confused, Ziah started moving back on seeing the expression on his face. It felt as though he had lost the least bit of sanity and it sent fearful shudders down her spine.

She couldn't even curse herself for standing up for herself but what could she do? How much more could she tolerate under the iron fists of the mother-son duo?

"Y-yeh kya kar rahe ho? D-dur raho mujhse."

"Awe, kyu Ziah bibi? Bahaduri khatm ho gayi?"

Badar tsked in mock disappointment. The devilish mirth in his eyes scared Ziah enough to ignore the ache in her ankles and wrists and race in search for a safe corner though he wasn't having any of it.

"Nah ah, aise kyu bhag rahi ho? Main toh tumhari khwahish hi puri karne ja raha hu."

Badar whispered next to her ears. His breath made the hairs at her nape of her neck stand in alertness, goosebumps rose across her body in horror. Thrashing in his hold, she tried to free herself, her screams of Khurshida begum's name rang across the hall.

"Koi fayda nahi. Amma Khwaja sahab se baat karne gayi hai."

His words made Ziah still. The last hope that she had to escape the man's clutches seemed to slip out of her hold yet she knew she had to try.

"Chode hume, chode hume! Y-yeh galat hai."

He snickered from behind. A sound of sick sarcasm was all it was for Ziah who elbowed his stomach, successfully making him stumble on his steps and move a little back.

"BAS HUA!"

He roared in madness and Ziah never knew fear as such. Tears fell down her cheeks as she felt herself being pulled roughly towards him. Her attempts to get out his hold went in vain as he dragged her out of the house and roughly pushed her into the car.

"Y-yeh kya kar r-rahe hai? H-hum kaha j-ja rahe h-hai?"

Her words were ignored mercilessly.

Badar started the car and drove away at a speed that made Ziah shrink in her seat. Her panic filled eyes looked outside the window, wanting to make sense of all this. The thought of jumping out of the car raged like a storm in her mind.

"B-Badar, p-please st-stop the car."

Again her words fell on deaf ears. Her heart knew nothing of peace as it bet rapidly against her chest. Sweat dripped down her forehead while her hands got clammy.

The car came to a sudden halt and so did Ziah's heart. Her wide eyes fell on the bulk men that stood outside of what looked like a small building away from the prying eyes of the residents of the place.

"Niklo bahar."

Badar commanded as he opened Ziah's side of the door since the woman refused to do it herself. Ziah tried to set her foot firmly on the ground of the car but her strength was nothing compared to the man's.

"B-Badar, pl-please na-nahi-"

"Nahi nahi Ziah. Tumhari zaban ne jo tewar pakda hai uski saza toh tumhe milegi."

Ziah tried to step away but to no avail. Badar dragged her towards the entrance of the building that made her blood run cold. She could hear Badar conversing with the men. Her mind couldn't make out anything clear since her worries about what would happen to her surpassed everything else.

One second Ziah was trying to free herself from Badar and the next, she was handed to the man wearing a black t-shirt and pants, a look that could make rivers freeze rested on his face as he gripped her upper arm and pulled her inside.

"Badar! Pl-please, aisa n-na kare. Ba-"

Her cries died down when she saw the other man handing a thick bundle of note to Badar. Her voice got lost amidst the many others in the place as she stared silently at the man who had sold her.

Badar counted the money in his hands. Upon sensing a gaze on him, he looked up to find Ziah staring blankly at him. His lips were pulled in a brutish smirk and without any shame, he waved the bundle in the air as though trying to show her a trophy of victory.

His actions made Ziah want to puke. The bile in her throat rose dangerously near for her to throw up but she controlled the urge, swallowing it just like her tears.

The doors that she had been thrown through were now closed. The man pushed her to the side against another girl that sat weeping on the floor. The air around was suffocating and vile. The stench, the aura, everything made her dizzy.

Her eyes fought to stay open. An ache built in her head making her body go numb. The air around felt like needles pricking her skin. Slumping down the cold wall that was worn of any paint or warmth, she folded her knees to her chest. Her hands after a lot of effort brought her dupatta and wrapped it around herself, as if trying to secure her dignity in a place as such.

Draping the material over her head, she placed her head on her knees and tightened her arms around herself, trying her best to hide amongst a place that was nothing less than hell.

And as destiny would have it, to reduce her burden, unconsciousness came in like a blessing in disguise.

**********

That was a little toooo depressing chapter and I'm sorry not sorry kyu ki it's needed for the plot to go on.

So this was how our Ziah ended up in the trafficking trap but koi nahi, our Marwan miya was quick to rescue her...*sighs dreamily*

A part of the past is now done and we'll jump back to the present in the next chapter. Me is very sorry for the late update! Ramadan has made my cells of laziness reach their peaks.

P.S. How are your roze going?!!

**********