Word Vomit

[lekhika-no1210]

Meri bakwas ki mehfil mein aapka swagat hai.

[lekhika-no1210]

Heyyy

Hope u're doing well.

Are u going to continue the Iqbal x Y/N story

Hiiiii.

Thankyou for asking. Yes, I am doing well. I want to continue but have been super super busy these days. I’ll try to write as soon as possible but I am also not in the headspace rn. Sorry to keep you hanging. 😭😭😭

[lekhika-no1210]

Dhurandhar fanfic

Author's note: I don't know anything about rules that might exist to write fanfiction. I have words in my head which I want to pen down, so l am writing them down. Open to constructive criticism but mein nazuk kali hoon. I do not guarantee factual accuracy and the characters are fictional and based on Dhurandhar characters. I obviously do not support terrorism or any illegal behaviour.

Title: This love is grey

Chapter 6

Chapter 5

Annoyed. Y/n was annoyed, and vengeful. Which is why she took a long all purpose bath, stepped out, took great careful care of her hair, chose her best colours and wore the best fitting kurta. Very deliberately she chose her bangles, and earrings and did her makeup. She looked beautiful, she felt ready for battle.

Iqbal had texted multiple times, called her more times than that, she had not replied. She knew he would visit her today, and she would be ready. She would show him what it is he is missing out on, she would not allow him even eye contact today. Let him suffer.

Stepping out of her room, her eyes met Hamza, whose eyes widened. She looked pissed and cranky and was in no mood for conversation.

“Aaj kiska katl karne ka irada hai?” asked the giant.

“Tera, agar tune apna muh band nahi kiya toh.”

Hamza made the action of zipping his mouth, enjoying her misery. When Yalina stepped into the drawing room, he made a gesture to show that steam was leaving y/n’s ears, followed by a throat cutting gesture. Yalina giggled.

Y/n truly did look murderous. She sat down at the dining table and stabbed the apple with so much force Yalina was worried about her china.

“Baji, aap theek hai?”asked Yalina.

Y/n sighed, a long tired sigh, and sulkily replied, “Thak gayi hoon bhabhi, in mardon ko samjhne ki koshish karte karte. Din raat baat karte hai mujhse, taufe laate hai, chand bulate, meethi meethin baatein karte hai, ghoomne lejate hai, phir nikaah ke liye inkaar kar dete hai. Kya karun mein inka?”

“Major Iqbal ki baat kar rahi hai aap?”

“Ji, inse behtar toh Uzair hai, agar mein haan keh doon, vo abhi qazi ko bula lenge.”sulked Y/n.

If animators had been present, they would have added a light bulb above Yalina’s head.

“Mere pass ek bahot achhi tarkeeb hai. Iske baad Major sahab turant aapki nikkah ke liye Hamza se baat karlenge.” rushed Yalina.

Y/n raised her eyebrows, cautiously she asked, “Kya tarkeeb?”

Yalina giggled and said y/n should use Uzair to make him jealous whenever they meet next.

“Bekaar tarkeeb hai bhabhi. Maine pehle bhi Izair ka naam liya hai, cheeze kahin hai jisse koi aur jal kar rakh ho jata, milne se rok deta, par unhe fark hi nahi padta hai. Pata nahi kis mitti ke hai.”

Yalina deflated hearing that.

“Tumlog mere dost ko aise istemaal nahi kar sakte apne matlab ke liye.” insisted Hamza.

“Tum chup hi raho Hamza, ye sab dhong kahin aur karo. Bhabhi, aap phir hhi bataiye aisi kya cheezein hai jo ek aurat ko sirf apne shauhar ke saath karni chahiye?” said y/n. She wondered if there were some norms between couples in Pakistan she was missing. She doubted it, but saw no harm in asking.

Yalina, happy to be able to contribute again, launched into what all she could do to make the Major jealous if he visited while Uzair was around, how she could hint over text or if Uzair wasn’t around. Y/n knew most of it, but made mental notes of all that nevertheless.

Soon after they left for factory. Y/n to work on the ledgers and Hamza to do whatever he had to do that day, all the while Yalina’s idea circled her brain.

.

It happened around 1 in the afternoon. Y/n was at her desk, the accounts opened in front of her. The boys were standing around her, with Uzair leaning against her desk. Hamza a little farther away, and Donga, Siyahi sat on crates a little to the left. They were all laughing at some joke when Major Iqbal showed up. To Rehman’s factory.

He hadn’t exactly come to stand in front of them but y/n could feel him. The heaviness of his gaze that followed her obsessively. She tensed. Until a second ago, she wasn’t sure about Yalina’s idea but now, burning with anger, she decided there was no harm in giving it a try.

Wrong. She was so wrong.

.

“Mein nahi maanti ki Uzair koi ladki par line maare aur vo uspe fida na ho.” said y/n replying to a Donga’s retelling of Uzair’s mishap with a girl few years ago.

Uzair who had been leaning back, all relaxed straightened slightly. Closing the book, she stood up and rounded the table to stand next to Uzair. So close, their sides pressed i to each other. With him sitting, and he standing, she almost reached his shoulder.

“Gore chitte hai, itni lambi kad hai, kya swag hai. Hamza ke dost na hote, toh mein toh inpe kabka fida ho chuki hoti.

Aur meri itni madad bhi karte hai. Itne caring hai. Kal hi raat ko jab mein thodi mayus lagi inko, turant se long drive ke liye poocha tha inhone. Kaafi thaki hui thi, nahi toh haan bhi keh de deti. Waise, maine aapko kabhi kahan nahi isiliye abhi keh deti hoon. Shukriya. Mera itna khayal rakhne ke liye.” saying this, she got on her tippy toes and lightly kissed his cheek. Uzair froze.

Y/n tried to lean back but somehow got misbalanced. She was sure she was going to fall disgracefully and all her plans would go to waste when Uzair wound his arms around her waist and pulled her close, effectively saving her from falling.

The clocking of gun’s sound echoed and a cold metal kissed Uzair’s head.

It was y/n’s turn to freeze. In a second the ease lifted and more gunds clocked. Donga and Siyahi’s poijted at Iqbal, whose gun was aimed at Uzair. Hamza was wound like a tiger ready to pounce, but he did not pull out his gun.

Y/n’s eyes locked with Iqbal’s.

“Haath hata.” Iqbal muttered, low. He looked murderous, his eyes appeared more lethal than the gun which was ready to shoot Uzair’s brains out.

“Major Sahab ye aap kya kar rahe hai?” asked Hamza calmly, trying to pacify a starved lion who had his prey right under his paws.

“Uzair, maine kahan y/n ke kamar se haath hata.” Uzair reacted instantly, survival instinct driving his action and released y/n.

Y/n burning with her own rage turned around,“Aap kaun hote hai usse haath hatane bolne waale? Mere sawal ka toh jawab de nahi paye aap kal, yahan bade tashan mein haq jata rahe hai. Mere kamar pe kaun haath rakhega, ye mera faisla rahega.” saying this, she went agead and held Uzair’s hands.

The bullet left Iqbal’s glock and piercing through Uzair’s kurta near his hands hit the floor.

Donga and Siyahi fired simultaneously, Iqbal merely ducked, while grabbing y/n’s hands. Y/n’s heart was in her throat. She wondered the consequences of anyone dying today. She had not anticipated this.

Iqbal had always been calm and collected, level headed. She did not expect him to be so volatile, to shoot the guy who merely held her waist. Did she underestimate her effect on him? Or did she judge him wrong?

Without saying a word, uncaring about the consequences he started dragging y/n towards the factory exit.

“Major Sahab, mera haath chode, mein aapse baat nahi karna chahti, kahan le kar jaa rahe hai mujhe.?!”

“Masjid le jaa rahe hai. Bahot shauk hai na aapko mujhse poochne ka ki hum aapke kya lagte hai, aaj se hum aapke shauhar lagenge. Aaj ke baad aap kisi aur mard ki taraf dekhengi bhi nahi, unke gaalo ko chumna toh door ki baat. Yahi chahti thi ma aap? Chaliye Qazi ke paas, aapki iccha poori karne.”replied Iqbal.

“Ab mujhe aapse nikkah nahi karna. Haath chote mera.”

Iqbal ignored her, on a war path and continued dragging her.

Enraged, y/n pulled out his own gun, which he had tucked in his belt and stepping in front of him, pressed it on his throat.

“Ek baar lehne se sunta nahi? Aap mere saath zor zabardasti nahi kar sakte. Jeena chahte hai toh haath hataiye.”

Iqbal exhaled, relaxed and muttered. “Chalaiye bandook.”

Y/n stared. She was very much tempted to actually shoot, that smugness and posture getting on her nerves.

“Aapko lagta hai mein nahi chalaungi?” y/n questioned.

“Lagta nahi, yakin hai.”

Y/n shot near his toes, the same instant. Iqbal, that asshole did not even move.

“ Aapko darr nahi lagta? Aap pagal hai?”

“Aapke haatho har jhakham manzoor hai. Agar aap apne hone wale shauhar ko apahij(handicap) karna chahti hai, kar lijiye. Par humara nikkah aaj ho kar rahega.”

Y/n almost shot him again, but before she could do that Rehman’s gun came to rest on Iqbal’s back of head.

“Mere bhai pe goli kaise chalayi?” Rehman muttered menacingly. Y/n’s hands tightened on the gun. She actually feared for Iqbal’s life then.

Iqbal, however only sighed. Annoyed at being interrupted.

Without turning around he said, “Rehman, aapse ya aapke bhai se meri koi niji dushmani nahi hai. Aapke saath dhandha achha chal raha hai. Lekin Uzair ne humari mangettar ko haath lagaya, unka haath pakda, vo mujhe manzoor nahi. Mein bus usse y/n se door karna chahta tha.”

Rehman faltered, “Y/n aapki mangettar hai?”

“Ji nahi Rehman bhai. Ye mere saath zabardasti kar rahe hai.” Y/n said right away.

“Bachhi ka haath choro Major. Uski marzi ke khilaaf mein ye nikkah nahi hone dunga.” his hand pressing the gun further.

Iqbal rolled his eyes. He had two guns pointed at him, and he actually rolled his eyes, annoyed. Y/n decided to stop wondering if he was mad. He was. He was mental.

“Ye y/n aur mere beech ki baat hai Rehman. Aap dakhal na de.” Iqbal replied.

By now, it was a movie scene. Y/n and Rehman’s gun pointed at Iqbal. Mir and two other lackeys’ of Iqbal’s gun pointed towards Rehman, Uzair, Donga and Siyahi who had their own guns drawn out.

“Y/n meri beti ki tarah hai Iqbal. Mein ye nikkah nahi home dunga.”

“Rehman bhai, mana ki aap Lyari ke badshah hai, par ye na bhule mein kaun hoon. Ye poori Lyari, aapke saath mein khatam kar sakta hoon. Ek call karne se itne rangers aaenge, aapke samajh mein aane se pehle aap aur aapke sabhi log jail mein honge. Aapke saath dhandha karna aasan hai, isiliye aaj tak aapko apne hisaab se rehne diya. Y/n meri ussi din ho gayi thi jis din maine ise dekha tha, aap chahe unhe apni beti maane ya behen- ye nikkah aap nahi rok paenge.” Iqbal said bored, as if he was narrating a story and not threatening Sher-e-Baloch.

“Maine ISI ke jawano ko bula liya hai Major. Pahochte honge.” said Mir.

Iqbal nodded as if he expected that. His eyes were still locked on her, reading her while she tried to take stock of the situation.

A calm hand slowly lowered her gun, y/n followed it to see Hamza. He slowly took the gun from her hand, and gently pulled the hand that was in Iqbal’s hands.

“Major Sahab, y/n ka haath chode.” He said calmly, looking at him.

“Agar aap y/n se nikkah karna chahte hai, meri ijazat zaroori hai. Nahi toh aap bhi jaante hai ye nikkah batil hoga.”

Iqbal finally took his eyes off her and looked down at Hamza.

Raising a single eyebrow, he questioned Hamza, “ Tum mujhe dhamki de rahe ho Hamza?”

“Nahi Major Sahab, mein aapse darkhwast kar raha hoon. Mein y/n ka nikkah khoon kharabe ke beech mein nahi karna chahta. Aaiye baith kar baat karte hai. Rehman bhai, aapse bhi darkhwast hai, bandook neeche karde. Major Iqbal ka iraada dushmani ka nahi tha jab unhone Uzair par goli chalayi, aur abhi bhi jo unhone kaha, vo bus y/n ki junoon mein kahan. Ulfat bhabhi ke liye aap bhi yoonhi karte na?” said Hamza, addressing Iqbal and Rehman turn by turn.

Y/n groaned internally at Hamza having to clean up her mess. She was however, very grateful at the mediation.

Rehman grunted annoyed but the mention of Ulfat stayed with him. Business with Iqbal was also good and very profitable and it was Hamza asking him to put his gun down, he knew Hamza only had y/n’s best interest in his mind. So slowly, reluctantly lowered his gun.

Y/n exhaled as one by one all guns went down. What was it that she thought, What’s wrong in trying to make Iqbal jealous? Every. Fucking. Thing.

She pressed closer to Hamza now, needing his comfort and tightly clenched his kurta’s sleeve between her index and thumb. Hamza’s arms automatically came around her shoulders.

“Chalo, baith kar baat kare.”

[lekhika-no1210]

Aam lagta hai mujhe bahot tagda,

Aaj phir ho gaya mummy se jhagda.

[lekhika-no1210]

Dhurandhar fanfic

Author's note: I don't know anything about rules that might exist to write fanfiction. I have words in my head which I want to pen down, so l am writing them down. Open to constructive criticism but mein nazuk kali hoon. I do not guarantee factual accuracy and the characters are fictional and based on Dhurandhar characters. I obviously do not support terrorism or any illegal behaviour.

Title: This love is grey

Iqbal x reader

Chapter 5

Chapter 4

Y/n did not agree the next day, or the next, or the day after. She made him beg for it. Literally. Made him text her every hour, ask about her day, her mood, her demands, everything. On the fourth day, she said “Okay, I’ll come.”- late at night, after another gruelling day for Iqbal.

The date night arrived two days later, on Sunday, just like Iqbal jad promised. Those two days too, they talked a lot. The moment either of them could find the time to text, they did. Y/n in the middle of handling Rehman’s accounts and spending time with Yalina and Hamza. Iqbal in between his meetings and planning and plotting. Y/n wanted to become a habit for Iqbal, a part of his routine. So even after the date night, which was almost magical, she kept talking to him.

Texts were exchanged during the day. At night, during his car rides and after 10pm, when Iqbal would come back home (he had been doing that on purpose, somedays though he still can’t help it but most days, the moment it was time to leave for home so that he could reach by 10- Iqbal up and left) he used to put on his workout clothes, plug in earphones and listen to y/n talk. THAT was music to his ears. Y/n used to do the most talking during this time with him only humming and grunting until his routine came to an end. However, y/n wouldn’t always let him be the silent listener. She would try and coax answers or information about him all the time.

She was a curious little thing, Iqbal thought. She wants to know everything, that happens around her, around him, in the world, in his head. Iqbal could let her scan his head, know his every thought and she would nitpick that and ask, “What lead you to think that Major Sahab? Why not think it like this?” She was also sharp, she noticed almost everything and around her, analysed and stored information automatically. After that night when he told her he had stalled her, she came to anticipate him. Always looking her shoulder, and if Iqbal was around, she would find him. Not always immediately, but she would end up looking over her shoulder, straight at him and smile. That smile, uff. Allah must have taken his time making her. They spent time together more and more after the date.

If she found Iqbal stalking her, she would ask him to take her for chai, or kulfi or juice or biryani as “compensation”. She would stop replying to his messages and insist that he should take her out somewhere nice if he wants to continue talking to her. Iqbal would comply. Y/n knew her worth and she accepted nothing less. He loved that, he respected that. Women had always been accessories for the men around him. They had accepted that fate, they acted meek, didn’t speak their mind and were resigned to the fate of serving their husbands. Iqbal had grown up seeing his mother do that and seen the trend in the wives of his father’s friends’ wives as well. His first wife too used to be at his beck and call. Often Iqbal had tried to explain to her that she was allowed to have her own life and wishes and demands. No matter how much he asked her to not be afraid of him, that he wouldn’t hurt her and that she should live her life instead of playing the role of his servant wife, the norm was ingrained in her. Iqbal loved the fight this woman had. He looked forward to hit. Anytime, any word could trigger her and she would go on a tangent about it. It was exhausting, yes, but more rewarding.

“Aaj humlog biryani khane gaye the, bahot hi lazeez thi.” The earphones transmitted y/n’s voice.“Aapko biryani pasand hai?”

“Hmm” grunted Iqbal while doing bicep curls.

“Ye hmm kaisa jawab hai, kitni pasand hai? Hamesha se pasand thi? Usmei koi cheez jo aapko pasand nahi? Mujhe ilaichi aur laung daala hua bilkul pasand nahi. Aapko pasand hai?”

Iqbal hummed again.

“Mein phone rakh rahi hoon. Aapko jab mujhse baat karne ka waqt mile, call kar lijiyega. Agar soyi hui nahi hui toh baat kar lungi.” The line went dead.

Iqbal exhaled, out his dumbbells down and went to pick up his phone and dial her number.

“Maaf kare chand, galti ho gayi. Ji, mujhe biryani pasand hai, hamesha se hi pasand thi, humari ammi akhsar banaya karti thi toh hum bade shauk se khaate the. Mere nakhre aap jitne kahan? Mein sab kha leta hoon. Aapki pasand yaad rakhunga, jab bhi aapke saath biryani khaunga, mein illaichi aur laung hata dunga. Aur koi sawal?”

“Aapki sabse pasandida pakwan kya hai? Aur aapne aaj kya kya khaya? Aapne kal kheer khaya tha, uske baad se mera bhi bahot mann chal raha hai kheer khane ka. Aaj ussi ke liye kahan tha Uzair ko, par Hamza nikamma kahin ka hume biryani khane le gaya.”

“Uzair bhi tha?”

“Haan, Uzair toh hamesha hi rehta hai. Ab toh lagta hai ghar ka chautha hissa hai vo. Vo choriye, aapki sabse pasandida pakwan kaunsi hai bataiye, Major Sahab…” asked y/n impatiently.

She still did not call him by his name. Iqbal craved that- to listen to his name in her sweet voice which wasn’t shrill but had a cadence that made you want to continue listen to her. He made a mental note to send her kheer tomorrow along with the pair of earrings he had seen on his way to a meeting to Islamabad and liked. She would probably return them, again. Except the nath, she had accepted nothing from him yet. She insisted she didn’t want all these but Iqbal wanted to see her wearing clothes and jewelleries and footware bought by him. She had started wearing his nath and he loved that. It almost drove him crazy the first time he saw her wear it. It was almost like his claim, there for everyone to see who she belonged to. Especially that Uzair.

Iqbal replied to her question, choosing to not comment on Uzair yet again. He wasn’t a threat, sure he liked y/n but y/n had never talked to him too sweetly or flirted with him in anyway, yet. If Iqbal even for a second felt y/n was interested, he would shoot him. Consequences be damned. He didn’t like other men liking his woman, but she was a masterpiece, afcourse she would have many admirers. He wanted to lock her in his house, keep her away from all of them, but he valued his balls and life. Y/n would surely castrate him if he even suggested something like that. He simply decided to visit her tomorrow, hopefully when the ‘fourth part’ of their household was around and show him how she reacted to Iqbal and NOT him. If Uzair saw how she looked up to him with those big brown eyes, all trusting and shining. How she let him place his hands on her waist and the small of her back while walking. How she would casually place her hands on his bicep while talking, lean in to whisper nonchalantly. How she peeked at his expression everytime she made him try something new to gauge his reaction. How she would giggle, and blush at his flirtation, Uzair would get the hint and for his own sake, back the fuck off.

“Aise ashleel awazein kyu nikalte hai aap mujhse baat karte waqt?” asked y/n.

Iqbal pause his punches.

“Ashleel?” Iqbal wondered out loud and then smirked when he realised she meant the grunts he sometimes let out while punching.

“Kasrat karte waqt ho jata hai chand. Aapko koi aitraaz hai iss baat?”

“Haan, matlab nahi.” replied y/n, all shy.

“Sachhi?”

“Bus kabhi kabhi, kuch kuch hota hai sun kar.” replied y/n quietly.

“Kuch kuch?” Iqbal had stopped punching, fully amused and veryyyy invested in the conversation.

“Mujhe nahi pata kaise samjhaun.” her voice, still soft.

Iqbal chuckled. “Mujhe dekhkar aksar kuch kuch hota hai kya?”

Y/n snorted, “Aapko dekhti kitni baar hoon jo kuch kuch hoga. Itni door rehte hai aap Lyari se, milne bhi itna kam aate hai. Aapse se jitna baar nahi milti usse zyaada baar toh Aalam chacha se mil leti hoon, aur unse hafte mein ek baar milna hota hai.”

“Mein apni poori koshish karta hoon aapke pass aane ki jaan, jab waqt milta hai, daude aata hoon.”

“Toh mein aapke pass aa jati hoon. Aapka ghar bhi kabhi nahi dekha, kahan rehte hai, kaise rehte hai, kuch nahi pata mujhe. Laiba se bhi nahi milaya abhi tak apne.” Y/n had been wanting to take this relationship to the next stage for a while now. Things were going good, real good, but this wasn’t enough. She needed to marry him, stay in his house and glean information. Iqbal refused to talk about work with her, no matter how many questioned she asked, dressed as idle curiosity.

Besides, when she interacted with Iqbal like this, as lovers, his voice all warm and husky. When he pays so much attention to everything she does and says and when he coddles her, spoils her. Always so patient, so attentive. It’s worse when they meet, his eyes never leave her, she can feel them like a blanket, every time. He always wants to stick close to her, inhale her scent. He stores every random and non-random thought and word she throws his way as if it were treasure. It doesn’t help that he is gorgeous.

Y/n has started to forget at times, what her goal is, and just gets lost in being Iqbal’s chand.

“Aapka itna mann hai toh agli baar hum Laiba ko apne saath aapse milane le aaenge. Kaafi waqt ho gaya hai hume ek doosre ko jaane, apne sahi kahan- Laiba se aapko mila dena chahiye. Mere dil ka tukda hai vo, chand. Unka aur unke jasbaaton ka khayal rakhiyega.” Iqbal replied, ignoring the part where she offered to visit.

“Ye bhi koi kehne ki baat hai. Mujhe pata hai kitni anmol hai vo aapke liye. Aap chinta na kare, apni bachhi ki tarah hi rakhungi usse.”

Iqbal felt a weight lift from his chest. He had imagined y/n as Laiba’s ammi, but for that to happen- he would have to bring her home. His home, however was the last place he wanted her to visit. His home was where Jahangir lived, the one thorn on his side, he wouldn’t want to poison y/n with him. So even though he wanted to stake his claim in front of the whole world, make her his officially and completely, he couldn’t, not yet.

Y/n on the other side was disappointed, wondering why was he not taking things forward. Sure, meeting Laiba was a huge step but there were bigger, better steps to be taken. She had thought Iqbal was a possessive and devoted man, but he seemed to be fine with how things were. There was no title, no talk of exclusivity and no talks of future.

“Ji, ek aur baat karni thi.” Y/n said a little nervously.

“Ji kahiye chand.”

“Vo, Rehman bhai ke haveli gayi thi kuch din pehle, aapko bataya tha..”

“Haan, mujhe yaad hai. Kuch masla hua? Ussi din kyu nahi bataya?”replied Iqbal.

“Nahi nahi, kuch masla nahi hua. Bus, vo, unhone,..” y/n pause deliberately, showing hesitance.

“Y/n, bataiye kya hua? Aap hume bataingi tab toh hum kuch kar paenge.”

“Vo unhone ne mere nikkah ki baat cheddi. Umar ho gayi hai humari aur vo mere walidain (parent) jaise hai. Unhe fikar hai meri nikkah ki. Hamza bhi pooch raha tha, agar koi hai toh…” y/nu replied, all nervous.

“Aapne kya kaha Hamza ko?”

“Abhi tak kuch nahi, aapse poochna chahti thi, kya bolu?”

Iqbal exhaled long and suffering, and replied, “Aap chinta na kare. Mein khud Rehman aur Hamza se baat kar lunga. Aaj ke baad koi aapse aapki nikkah ki baat nahi karega.”

“Kya baat karenge aap?” Y/n questioned, happy thinking this was finally going where it was supposed to.

“Yahi, ki abhi aapki umar nahi hui hai aur aapko yoon tang na kare. Meri baat vo log maan lenge.”

Y/n facepalmed.

“Aap mujhse nikaah nahi karna chahte Major Sahab?” Y/n refused to call him Iqbal, she needed the defence of that title, the constant reminder of who he was so that she would remember her purpose.

Iqbal was quiet for the longest time, thinking of what to say. It seemed y/n got her answer in that pause.

“Theek hai, samajh gayi. Mein sone jaa rahi hoon, Shaba Bakhair, Major Sahab.” Y/n cut the call, all frustrated and disappointed. ‘What was holding the Major back godammit?’

She opened her messaging app 20mins later and typed- “Kal se thodi vyast rahungi, factory mein kaam zyaada hai, baat nahi kar paungi. Khuda Hafiz.”

[lekhika-no1210]

Dhurandhar fanfic

Author's note: I don't know anything about rules that might exist to write fanfiction. I have words in my head which I want to pen down, so l am writing them down. Open to constructive criticism but mein nazuk kali hoon. I do not guarantee factual accuracy and the characters are fictional and based on Dhurandhar characters. I obviously do not support terrorism or any illegal behaviour.

Title: This love is grey

Iqbal x reader

Chapter 4

Chapter 3

Iqbal had turned on the light so he could see y/n better. Y/n almost shuddered. It was weird to be in a room, enclosed within four walls, alone, with Major Iqbal. She had read files about him, got intel from Hamza, knew of him as the mastermind behind her country’s destruction. He had, therefore become a character of a story for her, a person only talked about in third person. Now, he felt..human.

“Baith kar baatein kare?” asked Iqbal, pointing towards the bed.

Y/n looked around and noticed there wasn’t anywhere else to sit, so she moved towards the bed, crossed it and perched on the side table. Smiling smugly she said,

“Baith gayi, ab kahiye.”

Iqbal shook his head, exasperated. Walking towards her, he sat himself down right next to her, on the bed. So close, that Y/n could feel the heat of him.

Placing his hands in his pocket, he pulled out something, gently taking her hands in his, he turned her palm upside and gently placed a small velvet box, so small that it could contain nothing bigger than a ring. Y/n looked at the box, him and the box again, silently wondering if the box had what she thought it did.

Iqbal gave a short huff in amusement, smirking asked, “Kholke ke nahi dekhengi?”

“Nahi. Aap mujhe pagal lagte hai. Mein aapko pehle hi bata de rahi hoon, aap iss taufe ke saath jo bhi poochne waale hai, mein uska jawab na hi dungi.”

“Achha? Pehle batane ke liye shukriya. Ab mein aise hi sawal poochunga jiska jawab na hona mere liye achha ho.”

“Mein ye nahi le rahi. Aap sach mein pagal hai.” Said y/n, handing it back as if it were a ticking time bomb.

Amusement danced in his eyes, as Iqbal said, “Dekh toh lijiye mohatarma.” Then, turning the box around so the opening faced her, he opened it and it revealed a nath. A beautiful, almost tiny, delicate, diamond studded nath. Nath also often signified marital status but with time, that symbolism had faded and what remained was nath being a fashion statement. Y/n used to wear nath in India, but had stopped wearing after her training started not knowing if it was acceptable in Pakistan and not thinking it important enough to enquire. Her nose piercing had almost closed by now too. She still liked looking at those nath though, imagining wearing them. Only a few days ago, when she jad gone jewellery shopping for Yalina she had taken a liking to one. Her breath hitched,”Have you been stalking me?!”

It was the exact same nath she had liked and fiddled with almost the whole time while in that jewellery store. Ultimately she hadn’t bought it because she knew it was of no use. Her heart was thundering inside her chest, dread at how she uad not been able to sense Iqbal or his lackey whoever had been stalking her. What if she had done something she wasn’t supposed to do? She usually took great care, always. So the chances were minimal but the fact that he had stalked her without her knowing was worrisome. She needed her body to become more aware of him. Manor Iqbal was skilled but if she trained her body to alert her whenever he was around, if she familiarised himself with his smell, his footsteps and his aura well enough, she would be able to tell. Her instincts and ability to sense stalkers or observers were very sharp. Iqbal truly was skilled in his craft.

“Bus aapko behtar janne ki koshish kar rahe the y/n. Aapko darane ka iraada nahi tha humara.” Replied Iqbal, having read every emotion that crossed her face. He continued, “Rehman bhai se kuch kaam tha aur uske baad socha aapse mil lun. Par aap Hamza ki begum saath kahin jaa rahi thi, toh socha peecha karke aapke shauk pata kar loon.”

Y/n was shocked at the audacity and how casually he mentioned following her to know her ‘shauk’. As if this wasn’t pychotic.

“Aur kitni baar aapne humara peecha kiya hai?”

“Do baar aur. Aur isse zyaada waqt hum nikal nahi paye aapke pass aane ke liye.”

Y/n wanted to massage her temples.

“Aapko lagta hai aise mere peeche karna sahi hai? Mere baare mein janna chahte hai toh mujhse baat kariye. Ye kya badtameezi hai?!”

“Jo cheezein aapke baare mein, aapko dekh kar pata chalegi, vo aapse baat karke nahi. Agar hum uss din aapka peecha nahi karte, toh humein pata bhi nahi chalta ki aapko nath pasand hai aur aapke naak par kabhi uske liye cheda bhi tha. Aap batati humein?”

“Major sahab ye pagalpan hai. Aap aisa nahi kar sakte.”

“Iqbal.”

“Ji?”

“Hume Iqbal bulaye.”

“Nahi, mein aapko aapke naam se nahi bulaungi. Ek toh aap meri ijazat ke bina mera peecha kar rahe hai. Meri baat sun nahi rahe aur kehte hai naam se bulao. Mein nahi bulaungi.”

“Gussa mat ho jaana, tum chahti ho mein tumse pooch kar tumhara peecha karu?”

Y/n face palmed.

“Mein chahti hoon, aap mera peecha na kare. Mujhse aa kar baat kare agar aap mujhe janna chahte hai. Waqt ke saath jo baatein nahi bataungi vo bhi aapko pata chal jaega. Ye pagal jaisi harkate na kare.”

Iqbal sighed, as if she was being the unreasonable one here.

“Humara taufa toh kabool karle. Badi shiddat se khareeda hai.”

‘Afcourse this asshole did not agree to not stalk her’ thought y/n. Questioning her sanity and the lengths she will have to go to in order to make this relationship work. Had he been a normal suitor, she would have gotten a restraining order against him, but he wasn’t. He was the person who ruled this lawless land and the guy she had to extract intel from.

Y/n slowly caressed the nath, marvelling at it’s beauty and asked, “Hamza ka nikkah hua hai aaj, mere liye taufa kyu?”

Iqbal shifted a little closer, if he had his way there would be no distance between them.

“Ek chota sa rashot (bribe) hai. Mafi maangna chahta tha, aapko itne din se dawat pe nahi le jane ke liye. Kya aap hume maaf naa karegi?”

Y/n rolled her eyes and replied, just like sje jad said she would. “Nahi, nahi karungi.”

“Arre, aapko kehna tha- nahi, maaf kar dungi.” Said Iqbal teasingly.

“Aap isi tarah mujhe bin bataye mera peecha aage bhi karenge?”

“Haan, aur kuch dino mein shayad kuch ladke bhi aapki suraksha ke liye tehnaat kar doon. Aapke baare sab janna mere liye aham hai. Aapka mehfoos rehna usse bhi zyaada.”

“Mein aapki kuch nahi lagti, aur na aap mere. Ye sab kyu itna aham hai?” questioned y/n.

“Aapko apna chand bula diya, aur aap bolti hai aap meri kuch nahi? Junoon hai aap mera, uss din ke naad se aapko bhula nahi paaya hoon. Afsos hai ki mein aapka abhi tak kuch nahi ban paaya, par mujhe waqt de. Mein bhi apni jagah aapke dil mein bana lunga.”

Mad. This guy was mad. He had to be. How in the world had he managed to execute all that he had? Y/n had done nothing and he was whipped, in love and obsessed. Do men ever think through their heads? Or only their dick? Y/n was in complete disbelief.

“Meri naak phirse chedwana padega. Pehli baar khud se suyi se kar liya tha, bahot dukha tha. Iss baar kisi aur se karwaungi, aur phir pehen lungi. Taufe ke liye shukriya.”

“Toh aapne mujhe maaf kiya?”

“Haan,- mera matlab nahi. Nahi kiya” said y/n shyly.

Iqbal bent a little and looked into her eyes, smirking, “Dawat pe chalengi humare saath, please?

Y/n did not know how to answer, she wanted to say yes, but also wanted to remain stubborn and reply with another no. Iqbal had taken her hand in his his again, and was looking at her with such intensity, it made her nervous.

“Kab aur kahan le kar jaenge?”

“Sunday ko, 7 baje, agar aap ijazat dengi toh. Rahi baat kahan le jane ki, vo aap surprise rehne de.”

Y/n almost snorted out loud at his asking for her permission. Weird boundaries and ideas of chivalry this guy had. Atleast he was upfront about them.

“Soch ke bataungi. Mann karega toh bata dungi.”

“Haye, kitne nakhre hai mere chand ke. Apne aashiq ko itna kyu sata rahi hain? Mein aapko aapki favourite kulfi bhi khilaunga. Haan keh dijiye?” Iqbal said, all hopeful.

Y/n understood what was the other day he had stalked her. Only the third day remained to be figured out.

“Aaj toh jawab naa hi dungi. Kal poochiyega, SHAYAD, kuch aur jawab de doon.”

Iqbal chuckled at how stubborn she was. Giving him scraps always, making him chase her. He realised he didn’t mind. He would happily follow her around, wagging his tail.

“Ab aap itni pyaar se keh rahi, toh theek hai. Kal phir koshish karunga. Aap kal nahi maani, toh parso. Tab tak karunga, jab tak aap haan na keh de.”

“Ismein bhi zabardasti. Aise keh rahe hai, jaise dhamki ho. Aur maine pyaar se kuch nahi kahan hai, gussa se kahan hai. Abhi tak maine maaf bhi nahi kiya hai aapko.” she said with a pout.

Iqbal raised his hand to tuck her hair which jad fallen over her eyes behind her ears.

“Meri noori, itni himaat kahan humari ki aapko dhamki de. Apne sar aakhon par baitha ke rakhne ka iraada hai humara. Bus batana chah rahe the, kitne be chain hai hum aapko dawat par lejane ke liye.”

Frowning at him, y/n shrugged and gave a low hum. Finally relenting.

“Aiye, aapko aapke kamre tak chor aata hoon. Koi dhoondh raha hoga toh pareshan ho gaya hoga.”

“Badi jaldi fikar ki aapne.” Y/n sassed yet again.

Iqbal smiled, a small crooked one. Exasperated but still fond.

They walked back to her room quietly, their halds touching occasionally. Y/n almost shivered when that happened for the third time. Iqbal noticed that too.

When they finally reached, Iqbal handed her the box again, this time she accepted it.

“Hum intezaar rahega aapko ye nath pehene dekhne ka. Tab tak khayal rakhe. Khud Hafiz.”

“Khuda Hafiz Major Sahab.”

Iqbal raised one eyebrow, having read her hesitation.

“Aap kuch air kehna chahti hai?”

Y/n nodded lightly and with a pout said, “Ji, vo appne mera number toh liya hi nahi. Kal baat kaise karenge?”

Iqbal smiled at that, being down to peek into her eyes again, “Uski chinta aap na karein. Kal aap tak mera sawaal pahoch jaega. Aap bus haan tayaar rakhiyega y/n.”

The way he said her name, so reverently, so softly. A weaker woman would have melted right there.

Y/n instead narrowed her eyes about to retort, but then decided hold herself back.

“Theek hai, dekhti hoon.” she said with an eye-roll.

Iqbal chuckled quietly and walked away after lightly caressing her cheek.

Few minutes after she had settled in bed, y/n received a message-

“Neend ki dehleez par aapke khayal thahar gaye,

Raat jaise le raha bus naam aapka,

Sab bakhair, o chand mera.”

Y/n rolled her eyes while blushing and went to sleep without replying.

[lekhika-no1210]

Glow up is difficult vro. Do pushup mein toh din bhar thak jaati hoon.

(Baburao saying- Kya zero figure banaegi re tu)

[lekhika-no1210]

I am not an academic weapon, I am an academic victim.

[lekhika-no1210]

Dhurandhar fanfic

Author’s note: I don’t know anything about rules that might exist to write fanfiction. I have words in my head which I want to pen down, so I am writing them down. Open to constructive criticism but mein nazuk kali hoon. I do not guarantee factual accuracy and the characters are fictional and based on Dhurandhar characters. I obviously do not support terrorism or any illegal behaviour.

Title: This love is grey

Pairing: Iqbal x y/n

Chapter 3

Chapter 2

And just like that, the wedding came. Hamza looked almost royal, and Yalina looked gorgeous, and so so so happy. Y/n silently prayed for their happiness. She knew they were here on a mission and Yalina was just another pawn but she hoped that while playing the game, Hamza could experience atleast some love and happiness.

“Ji aap bahot khoobsurat lag rahi hai.” Y/n dragged here eyes from the couple towards Uzair.

Flickering with her bangles and trying hard to hide her blush she said a quiet thankyou followed by a compliment for him. He did look great in this attire, not that he looked any less prettier otherwise, but his white glittering coat and pants and that deep searching look he was giving her brought about goosebumps on y/n’s arm. The coat’s colour matched the embroidery on her rust coloured sharara set she had bought with Yalina the other day. She liked the unintentional twinning which wasn’t actual twinning.

She made a hand gesture asking him to lean down so that she could correct his pocket squared which presently looked stuffed in hurriedly.

She raised her hands, her bangles clinking and was about to correct him when the entry of another man, one that did not blush around her, who commanded the room and left everyone speechless caught her attention. Major Iqbal.

She froze, her eyes scanning him. He looked intimidating even with the smile gracing his face as he walked towards Hamza. He had a sass, a charm and unwavering confidence about him that pulled at your attention.

Uzair followed her line of sight and clenched his fists at the person currently hijacking her attention. He wasn’t a huge fan of Major Iqbal. He jad insulted him on their first meeting and was the reason Rehman bhai chose to cheat his qaum. But he was also the catalyst to Rehman bhai’s success and career peak. They were business partners, very important business partners.

Major Iqbal himself was scanning the room for the firecracker he had met last time. His heart was beating so fast, it was as if it wanted to escape his chest and run towards her. He found her in a corner near the stage. As if she didn’t want to bring attention towards her but couldn’t stop being the centre of attention. She was fixing Uzair’s pocket square. He did not like the proximity but figured he couldn’t comment on it just yet. Patience. She will be his soon.

He strode towards her in full swagger, slightly fixing his kurta’s collar.

“Assalikum” he greeted with a low bow, maintaing eye contact.

Y/n turned towards him with a slight smirk upon hearing the greeting. He didn’t forget about her after all.

“Walaikum Assalam Major Sahab.” she greeted back. Not saying anything else. She wanted him to make that effort, make him chase her. So that when they do end up together, if they end up together, he would think it was his idea.

“Walaikum Assalam, kab pahoche aap?” Uzair butted in.

Iqbal looked at Uzair as if he were a pothole in the middle of a smooth road. Or as if he were a cockroach he wanted to crush.

“Ji bus abhi hi, dulhe se milne aaya tha, par phir kisi dilkash nazare ne mujhe idhar kheench liya.” He said, looking back at y/n.

Y/n was about to deliver back, when-

“Aapko mein itna khoobru laga aaj? Y/n bhi abhi keh rahi thi ki mein aaj bada wajeeh lag raha hoon.” Uzair said, again.

“Mein aapki baat nahi kar raha tha.” Iqbal grumbled, extremely annoyed now.

“Toh kya meri kar rahe the?” Y/n jumped in before these two could start a dogfight. She raised an eyebrow challengingly towards Iqbal while her smile remained demure. She wanted Iqbal’s attention on her. As endearing as she found Uzair’s jealousy, it was a hindrance to her mission and she tried to think of ways to get him away.

Iqbal made a show of scanning her slowly.

“Ji, khuda ne badi shiddat se aapko banaya hai, aur aapne utni hi shiddat se khud ko aaj sawara hai. Nazar hi nahi hat rahi aapse.”

Y/n blushed. If Uzair was a golden retriever, Major Iqbal was a pitbull and while she liked playing with golden retrievers, it was taming the pitbulls that brought her true satisfaction.

Iqbal’s confidence and his audacity to look at her that hungrily and openly made her self conscious. She tucked her hair behind her ear but did not backdown.

“Kya fayda uss khoobsurti ka, jisse nazar toh nahi hath ti, par jab nazar se vo door ho jaye, log uske baare mein bhool jaate hai.”

Amusement filled Iqbal’s eyes and he bent down slightly, stepping closer, “Kya aapka dil bahot dukhaya humne?” Iqbal questioned. He had obviously not forgotten her, or the acceptance of his offer by her.

“Itni khush kismat kahan aapki, ki mere dil ko chot pahocha paye. Aap hi ne toh kahan tha, karza hai, aur aap usse chukana chahte hai. Hisaab ki pakki hoon bus. Isiliye keh diya.”

Iqbal took another step closer, almost isolating her.

A heavy hand landed on Iqbal’s shoulder and pulled him back. “Arre y/n, kya karze ki baat kar rahi ho. Humare bhai Hamza ka nikkah hai, Major sahab ko humein kuch khilana chahiye.” Uzair said.

The soldier’s eyes did not leave Y/n, but y/n took a fee small steps back. The proximity and heat of Major was doing things to her heart, even she wasn’t ready to acknowledge.

“Aaiye mein aapko Aalam bhai ke juice pilata hoon, thandak milegi phir dawat ka maza uthaenge humlog.” Uzair was ready to do whatever it takes to get the Major away from y/n, even if it meant stepping away himself.

Y/n instinctively raised her hands trying to hold onto the Major, he bangles tinkling. She wasn’t ready for the conversation to be over. She had to set up another meeting with him. God knows if such an opportunity would even rise up again. She however, held herself back. She was playing hard to get right now. She had to make the Major chase her, make her think it’s his idea.

She smiled tightly and gestured towards the food stall.

“Ji maaf kariyega. Mein bhi bematlab ki baatein karne lag gayi. Bhool hi gayi, aap mehman hai. Mein bhi chalti hoon saath mein- ”

“Nahi nahi, iski koi zaroorat nahi hai. Hum dono chale jaenge. Mein poora khayal rakhunga inka.” Uzair rejected her offer again.

She held back the glare she wanted to give Uzair.

“Arre Major sahab, aap kab aaye?” Interrupted Khanani.

‘Isi ki kami thi’ thought y/n, rolling her eyes internally. Knowing this ship had sailed, she smiled reluctantly and let them drag Iqbal away.

Iqbal had read every emotion that passed her face. Her almost physically restraining him, her anger towards Uzair, her dejection and her desperation. He was gloating internally, happy she wanted him as much as he did and thinking she was playing the game of cat and mouse. Probably wanted him to earn his place next to her, even though she jad already made place for him within her heart.

Whoever would tell the Major it wasn’t love for him, but the love for her nation that were driving those actions.

Iqbal had wanted to ask her out long ago, but he had been so busy planning his next attack on India that the matters of his heart had to take a backseat. His obsession with making the neighbouring country pay had almost made him forget the vibrancy of the woman he wanted. He would do that no more. Matters of revenge would have to wait. He had to steal this rose, before some other passerby, like Uzair, could make a move.

.

Y/n was walking back to her rented room, the function was almost over. Leftover conversations, drunk gibberish and a very serious conversation among Rehman, Iqbal, Khanani and Hamza seemed to be taking place. Uzair had drank himself crazy, probably dejected at the little flirtation between y/n and Major. If only he had let things escalate.

A hand shot out of nowhere and wrapped around y/n, pulling her into a dark room. She tensed, ready to strike, when-

“Shh. Hum hai, Iqbal. Aap se vo karz chukane ki baat karni thi. Uss waqt dhandhe ne hume aapse door kar liya tha, ab aap ijazat de toh chain se baatein karna chahte hai. Ijazat dengi?”

Y/n exhaled, her body relaxing slowly. Her hand which had been raised to strike out and hit behind her with her elbow slowly lowered to rest on Iqbal’s rust coloured sleeves. She raised her head and looked back, at his clothes, which she just now realised were the same shade as her. What a twist of fate, she thought wryly.

His scent, that of tobacco and oud surrounded her. She marvelled at how small she looked when resting against his frame and how, perfectly, she fit there.

Iqbal too breathed in deeply, finally having her this close, relaxed, resting against him was like balm to his soul. The brown flecks of her eyes seemed to be glittering as she looked up at him, so delicate and trusting.

“Yoon gundo ke tarah andar kheench laye, phir baat karne ke liye ijazat maang rahe hai?” Y/n asked, softly, as if speaking louder would break the spell around them.

Iqbal exhaled, amused. She was always biting, never giving him even an inch without scratching.

“Aapko is malakooti (angelic) chehre ko dekh ke lagta hai ki chand se mohabbat karli hai. Aur chand ki fitrat hai, apne chahne waalo se door rehna. Par, ye mujhe manzoor nahi. Isiliye aapko is andhere kamre mein kheenchna pada. Magar mein ye bhi jaanta hoon, bhale aapka noor chand sa ho, aapki roshni suraj se bhi tez hai, isiliue ijazat maang raha hoon, aapke gusse ki aag se jal kar marna nahi chahta.” Iqbal murmured slowly, his breath tickling y/n’s ear and forehead with every word.

“Aapse bandooko aur siyasat ki baaton ki umeed thi, aap toh shayar ki tarah baat kar rahe hai. Sab hi auraton se yoon hi baat karte hai kya?” Y/n questioned while pushing his hand on her waist away. She needed to distance herself from his overwhelming presence to think and she needed to look at him carefully to study him.

Iqbal let her.

“Humari biwi ke intekal ke baad kisi aurat se baat nahi ki humne. Aur humari biwi ke saath nikaah ek siyasi faisla tha, aapke alawa kisi ne shayar ke lafz humse nahi suna.”

Y/n’s eyes narrowed, she had yet to get a good read on him. She really could not tell if he was lying.

“Kya baat karni thi aapko?”she asked, choosing to not reply to that.

Suddenly, light flooded the room.

Chapter 4

[lekhika-no1210]

Padhoge likhoge banoge nawab,

Kheloge koodoge banoge kharab

[lekhika-no1210]

Dhurandhar fanfic

Author’s note: I don’t know anything about rules that might exist to write fanfiction. I have words in my head which I want to pen down, so I am writing them down. Open to constructive criticism but mein nazuk kali hoon. I do not guarantee factual accuracy and the characters are fictional and based on Dhurandhar characters. I obviously do not support terrorism or any illegal behaviour.

Title: This love is grey

Pairing: Iqbal x Y/n

Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Lyari was all dust and heat. Y/n was settling in just fine. Almost. Major Iqbal did not follow up on that dawat offer. Y/n did not think about it again. It was too good to be true anyways. A Major, of ISI, to fall right into the palm of her hand, just like that?

She wasss disappointed but she had other things to do, things like getting used to living with Yalina, a stranger, a civilian who was completely ignorant to the true identity of the people she was playing house with and Hamza, who was so different from Jaskirat. Sometimes they fell back into the camaraderie that came with training together, by being shaped by the same rules and principals, but other times, when Hamza behaved like a Pakistani gangster, it was more difficult to swallow.

With Hamza came Uzair, Donga and Siyahi. Rowdy, rough and..fun. Having left her “job”, to come stay here. She was originally unemployed, so she spent a lot of time with them. Getting to know them, reading them, learning the ways of things around. Hamza still acted very protective, but after one night of intense fight where she reminded him her reason for coming here, he relented and became slightly less interfering. Uzair was the one she had grown closest to. He was a simple guy, completely devoted to his brother and someone who didn’t think much for himself. Y/n therefore didn’t have to think much around him either. She could let her guard down, and not have to constantly watch her words and actions. It made Lyari tolerable. His gratitude for providing him shelter when he was on the urge of death helped.

Uzair, bless his soul also got her a job as the factor’s accountant after one quiet night when she had shared how miserable a jobless life made her feel. So slowly, Rehman softened towards her further, so did she. He was still a target, an eventual casualty, but he was also a close substitute to her father. If she compared him to her father back home, he would definitely shine in worse light but she didn’t have the luxury to think about things back home.

Currently though, her work had taken a backseat. Her brother was getting married, and she had a lot of arrangements to make. Hamza had all but left it all upto Yalina and her. Yalina, the happy blushing, excited bride had so many demands and preparations, dealing with her energy was in itself so exhausting it’s a miracle she got any work done. She also knew Major Iqbal would be there, so she most definitely had to make an impression. She had to look her best and lay the honeyed trap. She therefore let Yalina drag her for dress shopping when she would have preferred to stay back and decide the venue location and food menu.

“Baji, ye kaisa lag raha hai?” asked Yalina in her sweet voice, as she tried on her 14th dress of the day.

The reception clothes were bought with her mother and were ready but she wanted to buy the rest of the much needed clothes with y/n, hoping they could bond over clothes. Having grown up as a single child, Yalina had always wanted a sibling and with Hamza came not just a life partner but also an elder sister. Y/n was much younger than Hamza, but she was elder to Yalina.

“Bahot hi khoobsurat. Yeh rang sabse zyaada jach raha hai aap par bhabhi.” Yalina blushed. Y/n always looked so composed and regal and was the sweetest person to talk to. Yalina admired everything about her and a compliment from her meant the world. She decided to buy all the dresses Y/n approved and decidedly rejected all those towards which y/n showed the slightest dislike.

“Hamari shopping toh ho gayi, ab aap bhi apne liye pasand karle. Kya pata, hamare walima mein aapko koi pasand karle?” she insisted

“Hume aapki pasand bahot achhi lagi, aap jo kahengi mein vo khareed lungi. Kahiye mere liye kuch achha lag raha hai aapko?” asked y/n.

Yalina squealed and excitedly started browsing clothes which might look good on her bhaji.

Y/n sighed internally, holding onto her last shred of patience but passed a grateful smile when Yalina looked towards her.

It wasn’t as if y/n disliked Yalina. She was a sweet girl and y/n knew that Hamza might end up actually falling in love with her, which made her happy. Her only issue was that Yalina still lived in a fairy world and saw everything with rose tinted glasses. Despite the difference of mere five years between them, their perspective of the world couldn’t be more diverse. Y/n had seen the darkest colours of the world and lived to tell the tale. Now, she only saw them, at every corner and hanging out with Yalina was akin to babysitting a kid for her. She was happy that Yalina still got to live such a blissful ignorant life, she wanted the same for her people in India but her own soul had never been satisfied with ignorance. She had always sought the truth, even if eventually they had lead to her downfall. Yalina’s her trusting, unsuspecting persona was salt to y/n’s wounds, a constant reminderof their deceit. The waves of self loathing this brought added to her exhaustion.

“Ye dekhiye baji, aap par gulabi bahot jachta hai. Parso jab apne gulabi pehena tha, Uzair miya aapse apni nazar hi nahi hata paa rahe the.”

Y/n blinked at Yalina.

“Uzair mujh par se nazar nahi hata paa rahe the matlab?”

It was Yalina’s turn to blink. “Aapko sach mein nahi pata Uzair aapko pasand karte hai?”

Y/n wanted to block her ears. She did not need the one person she found even an inkling of comfort with to start crushing on her. It would complicate so many things. She knew she could not end up with Uzair, she had to marry some member of ISI, Major Iqbal being the easiest target. She had tried to avoid this, even when they shared cups of tea in the evening, she made sure to maintain distance. In the middle of the jokes, the teasing and banter, y/n never once gave even the slightest hint of affection.

She shouldn’t have let her guard down.

She did, and now Uzair might become a liability to her mission.

“Kisne kaha aisa?” she enquired.

“Mujhse kisi ne nahi kahan, par kuch hafto pehle Donga aapke naam se unko chidha raha tha.”

“Hamza ko pata hai iske baare mein?”

“Meri unse iss baare mein baat nahi hui, toh mujhe pata nahi.”replied Yalina.

“Achha theek hai. Mein baat kar lungi.”

“Koi masla hai? Aapko Uzair bhai pasand nahi?”enquired the younger woman.

Y/n after a soft pause replied, “Aisa nahi hai. Achha aadmi hai, par Hamza ka dost hai. Hamza ko shayad pasand na aaye. Aur bus, maine socha nahi tha ki vo mujhe pasand kar sakte hai, hum bhi kaafi achhe dost ban gaye hai, aur ye sab ke chalkar mein aksar baatein bigad jaati hai. Koi masla nahi hai, maine bus socha nahi tha aisa bhi ho sakta hai.”

“Aap chinta na kare aapi, agar aapko Uzair se nikkah karna hai, toh mujhe kahe, mein Hamza ko mana lungi.”

Y/n smiled. “Aapka shukriya, par mein nikkah ke liye abhi tayaar nahi. Rehne de. Par haan, ye kapda bahot hi khoobsurat hai, laiye mein ek baar pehen kar dekh loon kaisa lag raha hai.”

Hamza would kill her if he found out y/n had let such a thing happen. She did not know what to do. Presently all she could do was try on dresses, and that’s what she did.

The sharara Yalina had handed her indeed looked gorgeous. It was rust-coloured with intricate work in the dupatta and near the collar. She thought of the earrings she could pair with it and the hairstyle she would make. She liked the vision and figured that it would indeed bring about a lot of attention towards her. She decided to buy it.

They spent a few more hours shopping till Yalina was finally satisfied and exhausted. Y/n had bought a few more items for her and was bone deep exhausted herself. Yalina had called Hamza to pick them up and they were waiting for him to reach them.

Just then, a black jeep, Uzair’s black jeep pulled up and from it stepped out, the famous pair, Hamza and Uzair.

Y/n took a deep breath, and exhaled.

.

Hamza read her panic instantly. His eyes which should have been lovingly scanning Yalina, was scrutinising her. Hamza hadn’t seem y/n and Uzair interact much, inly knew that they hung out. So, he really must not be knowing if Uzair liked her. She needed to confirm if Uzair did indeed like her and Yalina had not merely misread the situation first. Then, she needed to do something about it. She prayed Uzair would keep his distance and not give any hints of his affection in front of Hamza.

“Dijiye mein samaan jeep mein rakh deta hoon.” Uzair strode towards her, taking her bags effortlessly and keeping them in the trunk. Uzair was tall, reallly tall, and beautiful. He had long eyelashes and smooth skin. He was chivalrous too, and very caring. Despite being a gangster, he had an innocence about him that..pulled at her heartstrings. He was, however, useless to her mission. So she needed to draw a line.

“Mein khud rakh deti, aapko lene ki zaroorat nahi thi.”

Uzair kept his hand on his heart and tilted his head to the side, “Kuch bags hi toh liya hai, ismein kaun si badi baat hai? Aise bhi, aapki madad karke mujhe achha lagta hai.”he said, all shy.

Normally y/n might have pulled his cheek then, but she held back. Giving him a small smile and a quiet thankyou. She made to open the door to sit inside but Uzair beat her to it and opened her door, looking at her confused, as if he too was expecting a different reaction.

Neither of them said anything.

Closing her door, Uzair went around the car and sat next to her, in the backseat.

She raised her eyebrows in question. She thought he would be driving with Hamza sitting next to him in the front.

Uzair simply shrugged with a shy smile.

From the front, Yalina suggested, “ Long drive par chale kya? Itna achha mausam hai aur aaplog ko bhi kabhi kabhi hi waqt milta hai. Please Hamza, chal na?”

Hamza, looking lovingly at Yalina, simply nodded his head and they were off. Y/n wanted to jump off.

Fifteen minutes later Uzair placed his head on her shoulder, getting comfortable, probably ready to dose off. She tensed and her eyes widened. Was this proximity and comfort, friendly?

He was looking up at her from his head on her shoulder silently asking this, whatever this was, was alright.

Hamza looked behind and his eyes instantly hardened. Pressing on the breaks he turned around.

“Abe kya kar raha hai?” He questioned Uzair and very aggressively removed his head from y/n’s shoulder.

Ok, so not friendly gesture afterall…

“Kya kiya maine? Bus kandhe par sir hi toh rakha hai. Hamza tu…”

“Yalina tum peeche baitho aur y/n tum aage aao.” Hamza said cutting Uzair off.

“Hamza pagal ho gaya hai kya tu. Yalina, aap baithi rahe. Kandhe pe sir hi toh rakha hai. Tu bhi toh rakh kar soya karta tha.”y/n said, an idea, a very bad one, hitting her.

“Mein tumhara bhai hoon.” Hamza said, biwildered. He did notninderstand the comparison or was trying to think if he was missing something. Did y/n have a plan for Uzair? Did it involve engaging him romantically. He did not like that idea. Things will get messier if she does that.

“Uzair bhi toh bhai jaisa hi hai Hamza. Tum kya soch rahe ho?” she did not just friendzone him, she fucking brotherzoned him. It was a cheap shot. A very very cheap shot, but y/n hoped it would work.

Even Yalina turned around and looked at her as if she had grown two more heads.

Uzair looked like a kicked puppy. Y/n wanted to hug him and make it better, but she merely maintained eye contact with Hamza, who was..blank. He could not think. He internally shook his head at this woman and turned to stare down at Uzair.

Playing the role of protective brother for y/n came naturally, “Sach na Uzair, tu bhi meri behen ko bhai ke nazar se hi dekhta hai na? Mein sach bata raha hoon, agar tumne, ya humare kisi bhi dost ne ise behen ke alawa kisi bhi aur tareeke se dekha, bahot bada masla ho jaega, aur vo kisi ke liye achha nahi hoga.”

Uzair was red in the face, not understanding what was happening. He liked y/n. He had wanted to make her his wife. He thought she liked him too, turns out, it was only as her brother. Siyahi had suggested that he should try and make moves on her, so that they can be sure of her feelings and tale things forward. He had, however, not anticipated this behaviour from Hamza. Hamza was extremely protective of her, he knew that. He respected that and was happy y/n had that protection but it seemed to be backfiring. Had y/n not said he was like her brother, he would have fought Hamza, but,

“Nahi, waisi koi baat nahi hai, matlab, matlab haan, mere koi bhi bure iraade nahi hai. Tu kyu fikar kar raha hai Hamza. Mein bus thak gaya tha toh socha y/n ke kandhe par sir rakh kar so jaun. Isse mera aur koi matlab nahi tha.”

“Wahi, ye sach mein mujhe behen ki tarah dekhte hai Hamza, haina Uzair?” Y/n asked again. It was cruel to make him spell it out, but it was important.

“Arre, mein nahi, matlab, ji, vo..haan, mein bhi aapko behen hi samjhta hoon.” Uzair uttered, defeated. He wanted to pull his hair, take back his words right away, but y/n looked so relieved, and Hamza still looked livid. He could not betray his two closest “friends” over these feeling which he would have to now suppress and hope they go away soon.

“Mein khidki par sir rakh ke so jata hoon, tu gaadi chala aur dimaag kam chala.” Uzair said, all hitter and irritated. He had thought this long drive was a blessing in disguise which would help him grow closer to y/n, to sleep with her scent enveloping him.

He cursed a thousand curses under his breath, and spent the rest of the ride staring out the window, with the memory of her scent still echoing in his head.

[lekhika-no1210]

Dhurandhar fanfic

Author’s note: I don’t know anything about rules that might exist to write fanfiction. I have words in my head which I want to pen down, so I am writing them down. Open to constructive criticism but mein nazuk kali hoon. I do not guarantee factual accuracy and the characters are fictional and based on Dhurandhar characters. I obviously do not support terrorism or any illegal behaviour.

Title: This love is grey

Pairing: Iqbal x y/n

Summary: Y/n accompanies Hamza to Pakistan as his sister. While Hamza’s aim was to infiltrate the mafia of Pakistan, her job was to infiltrate ISI. As a female, the only way is to marry someone high up. The story happens after 26/11 attack and after Hamza has established good relation with Rehman, Uzair, Iqbal, etc. They know she exists but have never met her. She lives away from Lyari for now with Hamza and her’s “distant relative” because Hamza did not have any good and safe place to keep her in Lyari.

Chapter 1

Loud knocking at 2am in the morning woke Y/n from her sleep. She quickly picks up the gun she had been given by Hamza after he got one for himself, for such situations specifically. So that she could protect herself if a dire situation arises. She lived alone in this shackle, tasked with safe intel transmission to India till she could accomplish her real goal. Hamza had told Rehman that she lived with their distant relatives so that he wouldn’t have to expose her to dangers just yet. They had a plan, and they would unfold cards as and when required.

Guns ready, she went towards the door which was almost coming out of it’s hinges. The person on the other side on verge of breaking the door down.

“Y/n jaldi darwaza khol, kya karri hai?!” She inhaled.

Hamza.

But what was he doing here. They had made no plans to meet up. They had decided that she would shift to Lyari soon but no date had been agreed to. He sounded tense.

Lowering the gun, she quickly unlatched it- to see a battered Hamza carrying an unconscious and heavily bleeding Uzair. With Rehman looking equally bad with Major Iqbal leaning heavily on him. Donga, Siyahi and Mir were there as well, but she couldn’t see their condition just yet.

“Yeh kya halat kar rakhi hai apni?” She questioned Hamza. Disregarding the on the verge of death giant to worry about her friend, or rather brother. She also wondered the reason behind Major Iqbal accompanying this band of gangsters but kept her mouth shut because how could she then explain knowing these faces.

Hamza rushed inside and placed Uzair on the sofa, which groaned under his weight. The others also slowly entered. She was still staring, bewildered with the line of events and surprised to see so many oversized men in her space.

“First aid kahan hai?” shouted Hamza, not deeming her question urgent enough. She, herself realising this rushed to bring it out.

While she wanted to patch up Hamza first, completely uncaring about the enemies of her country. She remembered the role she had to play. Dividing the equipments inside, Hamza and her got to work. Hamza worked on patching up Uzair while y/n decided to care for Iqbal who looked equally worse off.

Her eyes scanned the man seated on her favourite corner of this place and bleeding heavily on it. She knew he could be her one way ticket to ISI. One way to get her information and help her nation. Maybe, she could turn him into her puppet and pull strings in the future. Endless possibilities, provided- she could entrap him. She knew not to mistake him for an easy target. He hadn’t reached so far by being stupid, by not knowing to read people, by not manipulating them. In fact he was probably a better manipulator than her. From this moment on, she was venturing into dangerous waters. A shiver ran down her spine and she took a deep breath and finally, looked into his eyes.

Let the games begin.

-

Through the haze of pain Iqbal tried to make sense of his reality. He cursed his impulsive decision to forego his security and accompany Rehman to the dam opening he had to do. He had needed a break from all the work he had been doing lately and when after the next arms shipment was finalised and Rehman said he was going on a long drive, he agreed. He liked the company of Hamza and Rehman enough to not mind spending extra time with them. He should have however, know that no matter how capable, gangsters would never rise above their gang wars.

Rehman’s rival, an insignificant pawn in his game of chess had decided to aim for the star one last time and ambushed their troop. White hot anger flared in his chest just thinking how inconvenient this was. In that chaos, Iqbal had been shot. Nowhere vital, but the blood-loss had been making him dizzy and the pain seemed to be spreading.

He looked at Hamza’s sister, whose location Hamza had begrudgingly disclosed, saying it was the closest place they could go to for help. Hamza looked wound up, not happy to be exposing his sister to the dangerous group of people he lived with. But helpless.

She was a tiny thing, worriedly glancing at Hamza probably wanting to patch him first. However, Iqbal’s condition must be bad, because after scanning all the men, she decided, he needed her help first.

He had been waiting for her to look at him, when her eyes finally met his, Iqbal thanked his stars that he decided to accompany Rehman today.

Deep, intelligent almond eyes, thinly framed with eyelashes took in him. A fire, scorching hot burned within them as she looked at him. For a second, Iqbal thought she wanted to kill him. But he blinked, and that look was gone, replaced with worry over him. His heart, stupid traitorous heart skipped a beat.

His perspective eyes had noticed the moment she opened the door how much she cared for Hamza and how worried she was. He had felt A pang of familiar jealousy. He never had anyone worry about him, never had anyone who would open their gates at 2am to take care of him.

Hamza had. It was her. He wanted her too.

So, finally when she looked at him with worry, Iqbal convinced himself, he had imagined that murderous intent. Could this small, delicate female even imagine murder?

Turns out, Iqbal’s Achilles heel was underestimating women. Specifically the short woman, who was slowly peeling off his shirt to check his wound.

He carefully, slowly scanned her features. Her eyebrows were furrowed in concentration as she gingerly accessed his wound. He wondered what she thought of his physique. If she found him appealing. A sharp pain made him look down at the wound she was stitching. Her hands, careful and light looked, well, small on his torso.

Feeling the weight of his stare, she looked up and raised her eyebrows in silent question. She did not shy away like he expected her to, instead those brown orbs held a challenge, to what? He couldn’t wait to find out.

A loud groan from Uzair, managed to burst the bubble, Y/n had created around him. It was like he had transported to another dimension before this. The constant movement and Mir’s distant presence pulled at his attention. Iqbal lightly shook his head. What the hell had he been thinking? He had met many beautiful women before y/n and he would meet them again. Y/n was just another fish in the sea. He needed to be careful around her, if she was even half as talented as Hamza, she was trouble. Iqbal liked creating trouble for those Kafir, not getting into one.

After finishing the last stitch, y/n lightly caressed his wound, admiring her work or trying to give him comfort. He did not know. What he knew was that he did not want her attention to turn to someone else, for her hands to leave him, bow that he was looked after. He almost reached out to touch her hands. Mir’s throat clearing brought him out of his head, again. What was it about her?!

“Aap theek hai?” asked Mir.

Iqbal hummed, eyes tracking y/n as she drifted to Rehman without a second glance at him. He continued watching as she treated Rehman next. He had a cut above his eyes, at the end of his eyebrows. Nothing serious, not like his gunshot wound. He looked at his bruised and bleeding hands and was about to call y/n back to him.

“Laiye, mein dawa laga deta hoon.” Mir spike, and took kneeled down in front of him to apply antiseptic. Iqbal wanted to murder him.

“Hamza baith, tere zakham pe bhi malam laga deti hoon. Idhar aao.” the soft voice of y/n echoed.

She had patched up two people and Uzair had been taken care of too. She wanted to Hamza to take his rest now.

“Rehman bhai, aap paani la denge? Sabse kam zakham aap hi ko lagi hain toh aapka madad karna jais hoga”she directed Rehman. (Can you bring water? You are the least hurt, so it’s only fair that you help)

All men stared, open mouthed, at her audacity. Ordering around Sher-e-Baloch?

Rehman stuttered and then nodded, never having been in such a situation before.

“Khana kitne baje khaya tha tumlog ne?” She asked Hamza while carefully cleaning his wounds.

“Apni jaan bachane aaye hai yahan, tumhare haath ka khana kha kar marne nahi. Kuch banane mat lag jana. Uzair shehar pahochte pahochte marr jata, isiliye yahan ruk gaye.” Replied Hamza.

Y/n pressed the antiseptic cottom was hard on his wound, in revenge and said-“Itna jo hatta katta hai na tu, mere haatho ka hi kha kha kar hua hai. Zyaada sher mat ban.”

Rehman, had by then returned with two glasses of water, one in each hand. He stared at her, not knowing what to do and she stared at him bewildered at how clueless he was.

“Khoon saaf karne ke liye maanga tha, pehle wala ganda ho gaya tha. Vo paani aap pile.”

“Bhai aap baithe, mein laata hoon. Y/n bibi mujhe bhi kuch khaas chote nahi lagi hai.” said Donga on seeing the condition of his bhai. He limped his way to bring water while Rehman continued to stand with the glasses.

“Laiye hum pee lete hai.” said Iqbal, taking pity on Rehman and on y/n who looked angry and amused both at the same time.

She shook her head exasperated and gently said thankyou to Rehman bhai for listening to her ‘request’.

Rehman who looked like a kicked puppy a second ago, smiled and puffed his chest out. Happy to be thanked and acknowledged for his hard work.

Y/n needed Rehman to like her too, so she couldn’t be rude to him. She knew his loyalty and trust was going to be difficult to win. He was a key player, for now. So she had to play nice.

“Aaplog kuch derr aaram kare, mein abhi kuch khane ke liye bana kar layi.” she said to everyone, but looking at Rehman specifically, having taken care of Hamza to a satisfactory level.

“Koi zaroorat nahi hai y/n, humlog nikalte hai. Mein kal tumse milne aaunga. Khayal rakho tab tak. Chacha chachi kahan hai?” Hamza did not want her to interact with these men anymore than she had to. He had been trying to delay this introduction all these days but was forced to do this. He had a role for Uzair, he couldn’t let him die. So, against his heart’s wishes, he had brought them here.

Hamza saw the way Iqbal looked at her and he saw the spark in y/n’s eyes. He knew what game she wanted to start playing but he wasn’t ready for her to face fire just yet.

“Chacha chachi Zara ke pass Islamabad gaye hai, kuch hafte ya shayad hamesha, wahi rahenge. Mein akeli hi reh rahi hoon.” Y/n and Hamza had this lie ready, there were no relatives, but the lie would stand.

Iqbal stood up immediately, “Aap akeli reh rahi hai? Itne sunsaan jagah par, shehar se door, ek ladki ka akela rehna mehfoos nahi.”

“Mujhe apna khayal rakhna aata hai, aap apni halat dekhe aur meri zindagi ke faislo par ungli na uthaye.” Y/n slapped back. Iqbal, with his huilt and status, probably had females falling at his feet. She needed to capture his attention in some different way. This rebellion came naturally to her.

“Tune mujhe bataya kyu nahi tu akeli reh rahi hai?!” Hamza questioned, mentally cursing Iqbal. He knew now he couldn’t leave her here without looking like an uncaring brother, and that, he couldn’t have. These men, however evil they were. They treated their women well.

“Tu baap hai mera? Mein theek ho, tum logon se behtar halat mein hoon.” Y/n herself was not ready to leave just yet. She had pack her stuff, stuff neither Hamza, nor she were supposed to have.

“Y/n ye sach mein mehfoos nahi hai. Aaj hamare alawa koi aur hota toh tum kya karti?” Rehman asked, his protective instincts flaring up. He couldn’t imagine leaving any of his family member alone, let alone a female.

“Abbu ki bandook hai mere pass, chala ke maar deti. Hamza awaz nahi deta, toh usse goli maarne hi wali thi.”

“Y/n mujhe pata hai tu ziddi hai, par meri baat sun. Mujhe nahi pata tha chacha chachi aisa karenge. Mein raat ko Lyari mein so nahi paunga agar tu yahan akele rahegi. Mere khandan ka akhri hissa ho tum. Samjho zara.” Hamza tried to reason with his younger sister, keeping up the farce. He knew she could protect herself. She had less body strength than him but she was frighteningly fast and strategic. She could hold her own, very well.

“Toh yahan soja. Mein nahi aari.” Y/n hoped, Hamza would agree and understand what she was trying to do. She wanted just him to stay, so that tonight they could plan and do what needed to be done, before leaving for Lyari.

Hamza exhaled. This would buy them time, not enough but it will do for now.

“Itni ziddi kyu hai tu?”

“Mein tumlogon ke ishaaro par nahi nachne wali. Achanak se aa kar bolte ho, chalo. Mujhe kaam se chutti leni hogi, samaan pack karna hoga, aur bhi kayi saare cheeze. Tumhe toh lagta hai, jadoonki charri hai- keh diya, aur mein kar lungi. Bilkul nahi.” y/n replied stomping her feet.

Iqbal stared at that action.

Humza pulled at his hair in frustration and said, “Theek hai, mein aaj raat yahan ruk jaa raha hoon. Tumhe jo karna hai kal tak kar lena, kal saath mein vapas Lyari chal rahe hai humlog.” Hamza then looke dat Rehman for permission who nodded. Rehman wondered if this is what having a sister or daughter would have been like.

“Kya tumhare ye maut ke saathi bhi ruk rahe hai? Ye pehli baar tha jo tu iss haal mein ghar aaya hai isiliye madad kardi. Agli baar umeed bhi mat karna.”

Hamza looked at Rehman, hoping, praying he would excuse himself. He also hoped Iqbal would keep his mouth closed. He had already seen what effect y/n had on him. Infiltrating ISI won’t be that difficult for y/n after all. However, right now, they needed to talk, plan, get things lined up. She was handling intel transmission, if she changes base, it would complicate everything. This was supposed to be done step by step. He had wanted to buy a new, much bigger house and then move her in so that she would have her space, since Yalina was soon to join him at home. His brain was running miles per minute, trying to process everything.

“Nahi, hume chalna chahiye. Uzair ko Donga aur Siyahi jeep mein baitha denge. Tum ek jeep ke saath ruk jao. Kal isse haveli Ulfat se milane le aana.”

Y/n released the breath she was holding in and took a step back in relief. Only to collide with Iqbal.

“She maaf karde, maine dekha nahi.” she apologised.

Iqbal who had stood up on purpose, only nodded and shifted to give her space.

“Aapki madad ke liye shukriya. Aap na hoti, toh shayad aaj hum bhi zinda nahi bachte. Is meherbani ke badle aapko dawat pe bulana chahte the, aap aaengi?” If Iqbal wanted something, he did what he had to. He had moved the pawn, now it was her turn.

Y/n looked at Hamza, eyes wide. Did the Major know? Had he figured out their identity? Was he taunting her? He couldn’t have been so easily whipped, to ask her out so easily and quickly.

“Major sahab, y/n ne jo bhi kiya mere liye kiya. Aap par iski koi meherbani nahi hai, isiliye aapko isse koi dawat par le jaane ki zaroorat nahi hai.” Hamza was NOT ready for this. This was not happening.

Iqbal ignored Hamza’s word and raised his eyebrows at y/n. The same way she had, challenging her the same way she had. You gonna back out now little girl?

Y/n’s eyes narrowed.

“Aapke dawat ka intezaar rahega Major sahab. Achhe se tayari kariyega. Aapke jaan ka karz hai, achhe se chukaye. Khuda hafiz.”

Chapter 2