The Longest Autumn

“Print three sets.” She got an order from the manager who was sitting opposite to her father and uncle in the cabin. She nodded while walking towards the small desk where a desktop and printer was already placed. Before joining her father's business she never thought in the most horrible dream that she had to print files, check small errors in the reports, write articles and take orders from senior staff members. She was prepared to join the office as the daughter of the boss, just like he had seen Danish taking place in Anzala's business but here Adnaan was giving her the place of an intern not the boss. 

“Sir," passing the papers to the manager, she again walked towards the same table. Adnaan, Afnaan and the manager were busy in discussing the upcoming project and she sighed tiredly. Her fingers started moving on the keyboard with the speed of a turtle. And today she missed Danish one more time. Not out of love. But because of pleasant memories related to him. How stubbornly she used to make Danish work to complete her powerpoint presentations and projects, but here she was all alone in the cabin of her father. 

"Can't all these things be fine now? Just like before?” mumbling that she rested her head for just a few seconds then restarted working just like an ordinary intern. The next few hours were full of focus. The door of the cabin opened and closed many times. Many people came in and went outside but she didn't look up from the computer screen. 

"Fayra.” 

"Ji papa?” She looked up at the call but the very next moment, "I… I mean, yes sir?” The very next moment she corrected herself and found Adnaan smiling at her. 

When did her father smile at her in the office in the last thirty four days?

Never.

He had been a strict boss, strong mentor, and a blue nosed manager— all at once. 

"Don't you have to go home?” He asked without leaving the same smile.

"Umm..." Fayra was confused. Just a glance at the wall clock and she was surprised. The office hours were over, and now she was already working overtime. “Just ten minutes papa." And she restarted her work. Adnaan stood next to his daughter, a smile never leaving his face. Slowly he placed a white envelope on the desk and Fayra glanced at it but stayed focused on the screen. 

“What's this papa?" She didn't call him Sir because the office hours were over, and she hated calling him sir. 

“Check it yourself." Fayra nodded on the command and clicked the enter key before shutting down the laptop. 

"What's this?” She muttered while carefully trimming the edge of the envelope, and… 

“Papa?" Fayra was shocked. Her eyes widened, unable to believe in what she saw. 

"My employee's first salary. I'm so proud of you.” Adnaan opened his arms and his daughter hugged him just like he used to do in childhood. "My little Fayra is grown up now.” 

Fayra was happy, emotional as well as surprised to get her first salary in the form of a few notes. 

Her pocket money and other expenses were more than double of this amount but the salary of an intern told her the harsh reality of life. 

One has to kill her pride, forget her comfort zone, sacrifice with her self-respect and many more things just to get her hand on such a small amount of hard earned money. 

For the first time in her life she understood why her father returned home exhausted.

Money wasn't printed inside factories.

It was earned through sleepless nights.

“Thank you papa." Fayra muttered while breaking the hug and Adnaan kissed her forehead with a huge grin. "Keep it up. I'm so proud of you that you " she heard her father then looked at the envelope in her hand. 

Her own earning.

Not pocket money.

Not an allowance.

Not a gift.

Her own income.

The notes suddenly felt heavier than their actual weight.

"Let's go home.” Adnaan suggested but Fayra pouted. 

"I'll come after some time, you go home.” 

"But where are you going?” 

"Papa, I'll be back soon.” 

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That evening she stopped outside a bakery, what could she buy for everyone in such a small amount? As a daughter of Adnaan she could afford the whole bakery but as an employee of Adnaan she had to think wisely before spending money. Buying pastries for everyone at home, her fingers instinctively reached for the expensive chocolate box.

Then she stopped.

She quietly calculated and put the expensive box back, picked a smaller one instead.

“Anything else, ma’am?” The boy at the reception asked while she was paying the bill and she smiled.

Not because she had saved money.

Because today she finally understood the value of every rupee her father had ever spent on her.

Growing up wasn't when you started earning.

Growing up was when spending your own money became harder than earning it.

“No, that's enough. Thank you."

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Fayra stepped into the home, Sara was busy in physiotherapy, the therapist helping her moving her taking steps ahead and forward. Now she was walking without anyone beside her. Yesterday she held a spoon herself and had a few bites of rice. Fayra was emotional to see this progress in her mother's health but now she had started hiding her small joys and extreme tantrums in the form of tears. 

"Any improvement?” Fayra asked the therapist about her mother's condition and the young girl nodded with a positive smile. 

"Better than before. She will start walking normally very soon.” Seeing Sara walking on the grass of the lawn with tiny but steady steps, Fayra trusted the statement. 

“Thank you." She didn't disturb her mother's therapy and walked inside the house and a person came from nowhere while fanning his bike keys in his finger. For a moment they both were stopped. Fayra wanted to tell him about her first salary but he didn't waste a single jiffy in changing his path and leaving. She turned to see him going towards the bike. 

“Idiot." She muttered and huffed while walking to the kitchen. She never liked Danish riding bikes, and this guy had changed his preferences according to her choice but now there was no Fayra in his life who would stop him from using bikes, so he was free to do whatever he wanted. 

Fayra transferred pastries in the plate and first went to her beloved Dadi jaan who hasn't talk to her for the last few months. She knew her reply would be rude but she was already hurt because of this intense environment of house. Rizwi Mansion was full of love and sweetness unlike this, at least from the time Fayra hain senses, her tiny brain had only recognised love. 

“Dadi Jaan." She stepped in the room, Momina was as usually indulging herself in devotional activities. After the death of her husband she had no only two things to do, first was spending time with Danish, Fayra and Zinia, but after the children were to schools, this lady had nothing to do other than indulging herself in devotion. Slowly and gradually everyone settled down and got busy in their schedules but she stayed connected to her God. 

"Hmm…” without looking up, Momina hummed, fingers never stopping to push back the prayer beads. 

“Aap mujhe bhul gyi na…” Just like a little girl she walked towards the eldest member of the family, slowly placed the plate of pastry on the side table and passed a small parcel to her. “Aaj mujhe meri pehli salary mili hai, aapke liye kuch layi hu." Passing the bag towards her, Fayra sat down in front of the old lady. 

(You forget me, right?)

(I got my first salary, so I brought it for you)

“Dadi ko salam karna naseeb nhi hota, aur keh rhi ho main tumhe bhul gyi?" Momina jerked her head and Fayra hugged the old.lady who was not expecting this but her wrinkled hands slowly caressed the black curly hair. 

(I forget you? You're the one who doesn't even remember to greet me.)

“Do you really think I can forget you Dadi jaan? You're my favourite. And you will be the one forever, no matter if you make me khadi chawal anymore or not." Breaking the hug Fayra smiled. She missed the cooking of her grandmother’s hand but the old lady. 

“Naraz hain mujhse?" Fayra pouted. From the apple of every eye to the most unliked person, she had travelled a long way in these few months. 

(Are you angry with me?)

“Tumne kaam hi aesa kra hai Fayra. Kya kami thi Danish me jo tumne talaq ka feysle kar liya? Awara hai? Kamata nhi hai? Ya sharabi juari hai? Tumhe maarta peetta ya tum par zulm karta? Aur tumhare maa baap… maa ko to rehne hi do, wo bechari kya hi kehti uski to ye halat ho gyi hai, tumhare baap ne bhi nhi socha ek baar ki Danish par kya guzregi? Adnaan mere saamne baithke roota tha jab Sara us se talaq mang rhi thi, sab Sara ke sath tha. Sirf akeli main thi jisne Adnaan ka sath diya aur Sara ko hamesha samjhaya ki rishte nibhane mushkil hote hain, toodne asaan. Arey un dono ki to ladayi huyi thi, Adnaan ne Sara ko adhi raat ko ghar se nikaal diya tha, wo bechari ladki ummeed se thi, 3-4 mahine tak Adnaan ne uski koi khabar nhi li… Sara ki nafrat aur gussa jayaz tha, uski talaq ki baat bhi jayaz thi, lekin mene tab bhi yehi samjhaya use ki talaq lena theek nhi rahega. Aur dekho, aaj kitni mohabbat hai un dono me. Budhape ka sahara bane huye hain dono ek dusre ke liye. Lekin Adnaan ne ek baar bhi nhi socha ki wo apni beti ko samjhaye, use galat feysla karne se rooke.” And the old lady looked away leaving Fayra shocked to know a little part of her parents' life. The ideal couple had a difficult phase in their married life too? But for now she had to focus on the present instead of the past. 

(You brought this on yourself, Fayra. What was so wrong with Danish that you chose divorce? Is he aimless? Broke? A drunkard or a gambler? Did he abuse or oppress you? And your parents… leave your poor mother out of it, she is devastated. But didn't your father think for a second how this would shatter Danish?When Sara wanted a divorce, Adnaan used to sit here and weep. Everyone backed Sara. I was the only one who stood by Adnaan, constantly reminding Sara that relationships are hard to build but easy to destroy. Sure, they fought, and Adnaan threw her out at midnight. The poor girl was pregnant, and he ignored her for months. Her rage was justified, and so was her demand for divorce. Yet, I still tried to convince her to stay. Look at them now—deeply in love and leaning on each other in their old age. But Adnaan didn't bother to guide his own daughter or stop her from making this terrible mistake.)

“Dadi Jaan jo hona tha ho gya, ab wo bhi apni zindagi jii rhe hain aur main bhi, kya aap sab log wo sab baate bhula ke mujhe wese hi pyar nhi kar sakte jese pehle karte the?” 

(Dadi Jaan, what was supposed to be done has been done, now we both are moving ahead in our lives. Can't you all forget the past and love me again like before?)

“Ham sab to ab bhi tumse utni hi mohabbat karte hain." Momina jerked her head, no doubt they all still love her yet they all were disappointed for sure. 

(We all still love you)

“Then why doesn't anyone want to know what makes me comfortable and happy? What kind of love is this that you all are thinking about only one person not the other?” Momina was silent, perhaps she had nothing to say. "Dadi Jaan trust me, he is heartbroken for a short time, then he will move on, so will I, but a loveless marriage is a lifetime trap.” Momina glared at her but somewhere Fayra convinced her with the fact that a loveless marriage is a lifetime trap. 

“Achha dikhao kya layi ho mere liye? Apne maa baap ki tarha badi badi baate karne me kon Jeet sakta hai tumse." Without leaving her disappointed tone Momina looked towards the small parcel bag and Fayra smiled brightly. 

(Fine, show me what you have brought for me? Who can beat you at talking big just like your parents?)

"Mere khadoos boss ne itni Kam salary di ki main sab ke liye kuch achha nhi le payi. Bas ye hi layi hu." Fayra muttered while drawing out a white cotton dupatta with minimal embroidery on the border. Momina grabbed the corner of the dupatta in between her old fingers and felt the softness of pure cotton fabric. 

(My strict boss gave me such a low salary that I couldn't buy anything nice for everyone. I brought only this for you.)

“Khubsurat hai, main ab namaz padhne me ye hi pehenungi." 

(That's beautiful, I'll wear it while praying namaz.)

"And will do dua for me. Right?” Fayra pouted and Momina smiled this time. How long could she be angry with Fayra? The girl whom she raised herself. The child whom she loved even more than her own grandchildren. The only baby who had the power to change Momina's mood. 

Fayra smiled through the sudden sting in her eyes. It wasn't complete forgiveness. The disappointment was still there, hidden beneath the wrinkles on her grandmother's face. But after months of cold silences, that tiny smile felt like a ray of sunlight after endless rain.

The house still carried the weight of broken relationships, unspoken pain and unanswered questions.

But for the first time in months...

It didn't feel impossible to belong here again.

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