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This fog of war,
This smoke from the fire.
The gray from the death,
Will take us to dust.

Omer

After knocking at the door for three times, he pushed the door open and stepped inside the room of his grandmother. He scanned the room only to find his grandmother at the middle of it, sitting on a prayer mat and offering Nawafil.

He smiled at the sight in front of it and went forward to sit on the bed. Pulling his phone out of his pockets, he powered it on.

He had powered it off last night when he was driving after receiving continuous calls from his father. He didn't want to talk to him, still angry at him for ruining his life like this.

When the phone turned on, he witnessed nine missed calls. Seven from his father, two other from his best friend, Bilal. He thought to call him after he got free and checked his messages. There was no message of importance so he turned his mobile phone off and placed it in his pocket again.

He turned his head up and smiled to see that his grandmother was looking at him, her Nawafil completed. Omer sat up, freed his feet from the shoes and after sitting down in front of her, placed his head on her lap.

She started running her hands through his thick black hair. It was peace which rushed through his body and feeling content, he smiled and closed his eyes.

"How's Ali?"

The weak voice of his grandmother reached him and he opened his eyes to look directly in her brown eyes.

"He's fine, Dado. Out of danger."

On hearing her grandson, she let out a deep breath.

"Alhamdulillah." She said, even her voice bowing down in front of the Almighty.

Omer again closed his eyes in contentment. This was his favourite place in the entire universe. His head in his grandmother's lap.

Omer was more attached to his grandmother than he was to any other member of the family. Had he wanted to share his problems to ease his burdens or wanted an advice of any sort, it was the room of his grandmother he always went to.

He loved his grandmother even more than he loved his own mother. Sometimes his mother mockingly complained to him about it and he while laughing used to say that love he have for his grandmother is grand.

"How's she?"

His grandmother asked the question he was dreading. He didn't open his eyes this time and chose to remain silent, his way of getting past the question without disturbing some strings in himself.

"Omer?"

His grandmother was in no mood to let the question slip by. He opened his eyes slowly and after looking at his grandmother's eyes for a while, closed them again.

"She's fine."

He said after a while, his voice barely a whisper.

Omer did not want to get in this conversation right now. He had always been straight forward with his Dado, telling her everything, about what was happening in his life, how he felt, everything.

He knew that if he carried on with this conversation, he'll lose himself at a point and will end up telling everything to his grandmother, a thing he was scared of. His grandmother was already distressed due to her son's heart attack. Omer didn't want to worry her more.

"Just fine?"

His grandmother was persistent, a quality Omer had inherited from her.

"Yes, Dado."

He heard his grandmother take a deep breath, as if finally deciding to give up on this topic.

Some minutes passed, with his head in his grandmother's lap and her fingers running in his hair, when she again called his name, asking him for his attention which was gladly given to her.

"Did you meet Ali?"

After roaming around her granddaughter for a while, her thoughts again went back to her younger son. She was anxious, worried. Her tone clearly proved it. Deciding not to leave her waiting, Omer parted his lips and words started flowing from his mouth.

"I did. I sat beside beside him when the Nikah was happening."

He gave an elaborate answer, for the first time. He felt his grandmother bend her head and kiss his forehead. Omer smiled, a genuine smile, his eyes still closed.

"How did he look?" She asked another question after straightening up.

"Weak but he'll be fine, Dado." Omer replied, his tone reassuring.

"Will you take me to him?"

At this, Omer opened his eyes with a shot. He looked at her and then straightened up, sitting in front of her on the prayer mat.

Taking her hands in his, he bent and brushed his lips at her knuckles, as lighlty as possible.

"Dado, he is fine and they'll discharge him in a day or two. You don't have to go to the hospital. You're weak yourself."

Omer tried to make her understand but she only shook her head, as if disagreeing with her beloved grandson.

"Omer, I have to see him. Take me there."

His grandmother said, her voice pleading, her tone begging.

"Dado, try to understand. You can't go there. You're way too weak. He's fine"

Omer's voice was sprawled with concern along with reassurance. He just wanted to convince his Dado, in any way possible, not to go to the hospital for one look at her son on the bed and she would lose all of her energy.

He had seen him, Uncle Ali. He was in a terrible state and he did not wish for his grandmother to see her son, after all these years, in this state. It would kill the fragile heart of a mother.

"But I want to see him." His grandmother again said, now tears in her eyes.

Omer quickly placed his hands on her face and wiped her tears away, his heart aching on seeing the tears in her eyes.

"I'll bring him here, Dado. After he gets discharged, I'll bring him here and he'll live with us, along with his family."

Omer said, hoping that his words were enough to convince the palpitating heart of a crying mother.

"You promise me?"

He breathed a sigh of relief inwardly, thanking Allah that his grandmother gave up on the idea of going to the hospital.

"Yes. I promise you."

Omer smiled at her and raised his head to kiss her forehead.

When he pulled back, his grandmother caught hold of his hand and smiled at her grandson, her handsome and loving grandson.

"But Omer, if not me, you should go there. Your father is alone there. He also needs someone by his side." Dado said, giving words to her thoughts, now worried about her other son.

The way she phrased her sentence, Omer was left with no choice but to nod his head.

Had she said that he should go there because the man on the bed was his uncle, he would have smoothly made his way out. But she put her words differently, and Omer acceeded, not wanting to hurt his grandmother.

Although his mind had rejected the idea as soon as it registered it, his love for his grandmother was bigger than the grudge he had against his father.

Nodding his head, he gave his approval.

"I'll go there in a while, Dado."

Dado smiled at her obedient grandson and nodded her head too.

Omer stood up from the prayer mat and after helping his grandmother stand up too, he looked at her one last time and turned around to go from the room.

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

After a long shower, he got out of the washroom wearing a blue jeans and a white shirt. He elegantly made his way towards the dressing table and picked out a bottle of 'Boss' and sprayed the perfume on himself.

After combing his hair, he spared a final glance at himself in the mirror, turned around to pick his black jacket from the sofa and left the room.

Once downstairs, he turned left and made his way to the kitchen and was relieved to find his sister already present in it.

"Urwa, give me something to eat."

Urwa turned around quickly and placed a hand on her heart, her eyes wide, her face pale.

"You scared me, Bhai."

Omer only chuckled and went forward to sit on the chair.

"Be quick. I have to go to the hospital."

On hearing the name of the hospital, she immediately turned towards the stove and placed a kettle on it, adding water and milk in it along with tea and sugar.

Omer could not help but smile at his younger sister's reaction, she was way too cute. She was now a grown up but to him, she will always be his little princess.

The one he used to carry on his small shoulders.

He was still immersed in his thoughts when Urwa placed a plate in front of him, containing toasts and an egg. She went back to pour the tea in a cup and placed it in front of him too.

Omer expected her to leave but she pulled back the chair in front of him and sat down on it. Omer raised an eye at her but didn't say a word, instead choosing to concentrate on his breakfast.

Once he was done with his meal, he cleaned his hands and mouth with a napkin and stood up from the chair. After saying thank you to his sister, he went forward to leave the kitchen when the voice of his sister stopped him in his tracks.

Turning around slowly, he came face to face with his sister and looked at her questioningly.

"Umm... I was wondering how Chacho is?"

She said hurriedly, not wanting to leave her brother waiting for her to say something.

"He's fine."

Omer said, his tone emotionless, his face blank.

"And how's Fariya?"

Urwa finally dared to ask him the question she had been wondering about, her tone wavering.

On hearing her, Omer didn't show any expression. He had been expecting this question since he came to know that everybody in the house had heard about his Nikah.

"Anything but fine."

The expressions on his face were still the same, but his voice was more cold this time.

Urwa quickly nodded her head, fearing her brother's anger which had the power to turn wood log into ash.

Predicting that the all the questions were asked, he turned around and left the kitchen.

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

Finding a place to park his car, he was feeling irritated and annoyed. Wheh he left the hospital last night, he promised himself that he would never come here again and yet here he was.

If it hadn't been his grandmother who asked him to go to the hospital, he would have never set foot here.

Finally finding a place to park, he drove in that way and parked his car under the shade.

The hospital was crowded now, filled with people everywhere, unlike the last time he had been here which was only some hours ago.

Making his way towards the ICU door, Omer's face held a blank expression. If he hadn't been angry with his father, he would have gladly come here and supported him in this hour of difficulty but his anger towards him was making it hard for Omer to even talk to him.

He turned left in the corridor and saw his father and his wife standing at the far end of it. She was farther behind his father, standing still and listening to something that the doctor was saying.

Omer continued to move towards them, his steps small and hesitant this time.

He was some steps behind her when he heard the doctor say something and he stopped right away.

"I'm sorry. We tried our best."

His eyes went wide and his heart started to beat at a dangerous rate. He expected this sooner or later after looking at his Uncle's state last night, but nevertheless, it still came to him as a shock, knocking the air out of his lungs.

And then he remembered her, the dead man's daughter and immediately turned his head to see her and his heart constricted on seeing her like this.

Her face was pale, as if someone had painted it, and her eyes.

Oh God.

Her big, beautiful eyes were wide and there was no tear in them.

Just pain, ache, misery.

And suddenly Omer saw her eyes closing and head rolled back. Her body swayed in the air and she began to fall on the cold ground.

But before her weak body could hit the ground, he rushed to her hurriedly like a bullet fired from the gun, grabbed her by her waist and pulled her fragile body to himself.

Fariya

As soon as the doctor along with the nurse went inside, her mother collapsed on the chair, tears freely falling from her eyes. Fariya rushed to her and bent her legs to sit in front of her mother on the ground.

Taking her cold hands in hers, Fariya placed a kiss on them.

"Mama, Baba will be fine. Please don't lose hope."

Fariya's insides were dying but she didn't want her mother's hope to die. Her mind was on fire but she wanted to calm the nerves of her mother.

Her mother finally looked at her and nodded her head, tears still falling on her face. Fariya raised her hands and wiped the tears off of her face, forgetting the tears which were falling on her own heart.

Her mother closed her eyes and started making Dua for her man. Fariya, on seeing this, stood up from the ground and went to sit on one of the chairs, far away from everyone.

Bending forward, she placed her hands on her head while her elbows were placed on her knees. She let the tears fall on her face freely, lowering her face so that no body could find out that she was crying.

After a minute or two, she felt a hand on her head and without even lifting her head, she knew whose hand it was.

She wiped her tears away and looked up to gaze at his brown eyes, so familiar to his father. And as soon as their eyes met, it destroyed everything. It was like a flood which destroyed the dam she had created over her feelings.

She placed her head on his chest and begin to cry.

Freely.

Continuously.

For the first time since last night.

Uncle Ahmed continued running his hands through her long hair, calming her nerves a bit. But he didn't succeed. For after his every touch, she was reminded of some memories, memories of the past, memories with her father, beautiful memories they shared.

No wonder this man reminded Fariya of her own father so much.

She didn't lift her head, neither did he pull back. She was feeling her father in him, he was feeling his brother in her. After some times, she felt her heart a bit better. Crying so much did make her feel better.

She lifted her head and wiped her tears from her face. Fariya turned her head to look at him but what caught her attention was the water on his Qameez. Her eyes narrowed as reality dawned on her. They were her tears. Feeling embarrassed, she turned her head away and looked at anything but him.

"What are you to my father?"

Fariya asked a question which was nagging at her for quite some time now.

The resemblance this man and her father shared was confusing the hell out of the lady with an unfortunate present. Fariya heard him take a deep sigh beside her and pull his head back, resting his head against the wall behind them.

She turned her head to look at him only to see his eyes closed. He had some of the same features as her father, the same hair colour, the similar nose.

She was busy taking in his features when he suddenly opened her eyes and Fariya's face turned scarlet. She immediately turned her head, looking at the wall in front.

"Brother."

She heard a whisper and her eyes narrowed. What? She turned to look at him, confusion written all over face. Her eyes begged for an explanation which was given to her shortly afterwards.

"He's my younger brother. I am your Taya Abbu."

And Fariya's narrowed eyes widened instantly, air leaving her body, blood refusing to flow, brain stopping to function.

"Taya Abbu?"

With all the mess in her head and ache in her heart, she could only bring herself to mutter a single word, a single confirmation, a single question.

"Yes."

She was answered, with deep pain in the voice of the man sitting beside her. Indeed. She was answered. She was answered why the man bore so many resemblance to her father, why she was reminded of her own father whenever she looked at him.

She then smiled, a small smile, a genuine smile, to the man she was looking at, to the man who spent his childhood with her father, to her Taya Abbu.

She was still looking at him when her mother stood up from her chair. Fariya immediately shot her eyes towards her and too stood up, walking towards her mother hurriedly.

"Mama, where are you going?" She demanded an answer as soon as she reached her.

"There's a room at the end of the corridor. I want to pray there."

Her mother's weak voice came. Fariya nodded her head and asked Maida and Hamza to accompany her there and stay with her.

Both of them nodding their heads, helped their mother to move forwards. Fariya watched as three of them walked through the corridor and then turned right. Once out of sight, she inhaled a deep breath and walked towards her Taya Abbu.

She sat beside him and placed her hands in her lap and concentrated her gaze on them, a silence between them. The voice of her Taya Abbu broke the silence.

"He used to be a naughty child, your father. He was the youngest one so he was obviously dear to everyone."

Fariya felt him smile, but there was deep pain in that smile, she could tell it without even looking at him.

"Tell me about his family, my family."

Fariya demanded, curiosity obviously present in her tone.

She wanted to know about everyone. She wanted to know about the people with whom his father had spent his childhood with. His mother, father, everyone. She now understood what her mother was going to say to her last night when they were interrupted by Uncle Ahmed.

"Your grandfather died about a year ago."

Fariya's heart constricted.

"However, your grandmother is still alive, present at home, praying for her son."

His voice broke but he pulled himself together for the sake of the curious lady sitting beside him.

"We are three siblings. Me, your Phoppo and then finally your father." He stopped, having no idea what to say next.

"Why were we not in contact?" Fariya asked, her desire to know about everything taking over.

Uncle Ahmed took a painful breath, and ran his tongue over his lips.

"Your father married a woman of his choice. Let's just say that Abbu was not very happy about it. He asked Ali to leave Amna Bhabhi but your father refused. Your grandfather became angry and threw him out of the house."

Ahmed Uncle answered, his voice reduced to a slight whisper at the end. Fariya parted her lips to say something but decided against it. The information was too much for one day and she didn't ask her Taya Abbu about anything else, not having a heart to learn about everything that happened in the past in just one day.

They sat there for a while, none of them saying anything, when all of a sudden the door of the ICU room opened and out walked a doctor, with a very tired expression on his face.

Both of them stood up immediately but it was only Ahmed Uncle who went forward, Fariya remained static at her place, sensing that something bad was about to happen.

And that's when the news came out of the doctor's mouth and her whole world turned into ashes, into dust.

"I'm sorry. We tried our best."

Her whole life turned upside down, her heart came out of the ribcage, her mind became numb.

She felt like she had been walking on a thin thread since last night and now she lost her balance, falling from a height higher than the sky itself.

One sentence, one second and she was on fire, every nerve in her body, every fibre of her being was on fire.

Her heart broke into two. One was filled with heartache and the other died with her father. It was her life which was ruined or her heart, she did not know. It was her father who died or herself, she did not know either.

"Fariya! My child!"

The words of her father rang in her ears.

"You're my strength."

And in the midst of the chaos of her mind, she lost it.

Her legs failed to support her and her whole body shook for the man who just died inside was her father, her dearest, beloved father.

Her eyes closed and her head rolled back and she started to fall on the ground, waiting for it to embrace her but it never did. Something else did, someone else did. And the last thing she saw before consciousness too left her like her father, was the image of her husband, Omer.

☆☆☆☆☆

Here's a new yet heartbreaking chapter. I literally cried while writing the end. Tell me how you feel about it!

This chapter is dedicated to maryamjavaid92 for making me the beautiful cover above and for being a huge support. Thank you!

Hope you like this chapter. VOTE and let me know how you feel about it through the COMMENTS!

Till next time,
Salam!

Chacho - Father's younger brother
Taya - Father's elder brother
Dado - Grandmother
Dada - Grandfather