All about him...about Zavian Ubaid
The next morning
When Zavian opened his eyes, the morning light had already filled the room, but there was no warmth in it for him. His chest felt heavy like his heart was carrying a storm from last night. He blinked a few times, rubbed his eyes & sat up slowly.
His body felt rested, but his soul? Still tired
He stood under the shower for longer than usual, hoping the cold water would wash away the ache but some things don't leave you so easily. He wore his white shirt & navy blue pants, tied his watch like always, sprayed the perfume yet something was missing. Maybe it was the calm that Mahi brought...
Still, he picked up his car keys & walked out the door. Work didn't wait & he had always learned to show up even when broken.
He attended two long meetings back to back discussions, decisions, presentations. His head was bursting by the time he returned to his cabin.
He loosened his tie & leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes for a moment. The papers sat untouched on his desk & his phone buzzed with unread messages but right now, even the softest sound felt too loud.
He pressed his fingers on his forehead. The headache wasn't just physical it was emotional, mental...
Zavian sighed
"This isn't just work stress" , he whispered to himself
He thought of Mahi & then of Eman made his headache worse.
He picked up his phone for a moment, stared at it, then locked it again without checking.
He didn't want messages.
He just wanted peace.
And he didn't know where to find it anymore...
He sat there in his cabin, eyes half closed, the weight of the world quietly pressing on his chest. His mind kept going back to last night "Bhai, there's a guy who likes me..."
Those words hadn't left his head since she said them.
He didn't know why it was bothering him this much maybe because somewhere, he had already placed her in a quiet corner of his heart. A corner he kept hidden even from himself.
He unlocked his phone & went straight to his saved audios
Mahi's voice her soft, sweet voice , singing Titli.
He pressed play.
He leaned back in his chair again, eyes closed, letting her voice echo in the silence of his cabin.
Why does this voice bring me peace?
He didn't have the answer but in that moment, he didn't want one. He just wanted to listen.
Zavian slowly opened his eyes, feeling the stiffness in his neck as he lifted his head off the table. The room was dim now, golden evening light slipping in through the glass window of his cabin. For a second, he couldn't place the time but then he saw the clock.
He sat up straight, rubbing the back of his neck. His headache had faded, the dull pain replaced with a quiet stillness. Maybe it was the nap.
Maybe... it was her voice, still echoing in his head.
He stood up, straightened his white shirt & wore his coat. The silence around him was louder than usual, the ringing phones & hurried footsteps were gone. Everyone had already left. The office was empty.
Zavian walked out of his cabin and into the corridor. His footsteps echoed softly on the marble floor as he walked past empty desks & turned off lights.
It felt strange, peaceful in a way but also a little lonely. He paused near the main door, hands in his pockets & looked around one last time.
Maybe I need peace more than company these days, he said to himself.
With that, he stepped out, into the quiet of the evening.
Zavian stepped into the house & quietly closed the door behind him. The silence of the home wrapped around him, everyone was already asleep. Only a couple of dim lights...
He didn't make a sound. No dinner. No checking in with anyone. Just straight to his room.
Once inside, he gently shut the door & walked over to the sink. He splashed cold water on his face & washed his feet, trying to shake off the heaviness. The chill of the water woke him up a little, but not enough to ease what he was feeling inside.
Still dressed in his white shirt, now slightly wrinkled from the day & navy blue pants, his sleeves were lazily folded up to his elbows, showing his tired but strong forearms, the quiet reflection of a man who had carried too much for too long.
He sat on the corner of his sofa. The room was mostly dark except for one warm lamp glowing near his desk. It didn't bother him in fact, he preferred it this way quiet, low-lit & away from everything.
Zavian pulled his laptop onto his lap & opened it, the screen lighting up his face. He reached for his phone out of habit but paused for a moment then switched it off completely & set it aside. He didn't want more notifications, no new messages, nothing...
He just wanted to work. To get lost in numbers, documents, emails anything that would keep his mind off her, off everything. In that dim, lonely room, Zavian tried to keep himself together...
Wo ek khubsurat furnished alishan ghar tha...
Dur sy dekhny waly ek baar ruk k us alishan ghar ko zrur dekhty thy.
Safeid rung ka ek khubsurat ghar, chaaro taraf sy roshni mei ghira hua,
Makhrooti numa chatt, waseeh khirkiyan, gehry bhury darwazay...
Agr tum us ghar mei jhanko to, tum dekho gy... ek pur sukoon kamra,
madham roshni mei woh karma pur sakoot lg rha tha...
Wnh ek hewla sa nazar arha tha, ek wajeeh mard ka
Sakit, masroof...
Woh laptop py safai sy tez tez ungliyan chla rha tha.
Achanak sy us ny karah k apny sar ko apny dono hathon mei thaam liya.
Dard ka shadeed ehsaas usy khaye ja rha tha, woh ba-mushkil ankhein khol rha tha.
Achanak woh utha or kamry sy bahir aya...
Ghar weran or khamosh tha, ab tumhein lgy ga ghar mei woh akela rehta tha..
Esa nhi tha...
Woh thakan sy chlty lga or kitchen tak aya, lights on ki or chaaron itraf nazar ghumai.
Phr kuch soch k us ny halky neely rung ka ek mug uthaya.
Usy kitchen counter py rkh k coffee dhoondny lga, coffee k kuch dany us ny us mug mei daly,
Halka sa pani daal k woh coffee k karhwy daano ko ragarhny lga...
Yun maloom hota tha k woh machini coffee ko behadh napasnd krta tha.
Us ny counter k sath tek lga li or coffee bnany lga...
Jun jun coffee k daany pisny lgy ek karhwi mehek any lgi...
Us shaks ny apni ankhein ek nukty py thehra di... goya kuch sochny laga ho...
Uski ankhon mei zamany bhar ki udasi thi, woh coffee bnaty hue muskara b rha tha
Udas muskurahat...
Woh kuch yaad kr rha tha... us ki ankhon or honton py udas si muskurahat thi...
Itny mei uski coffee tayar ho gyi...
Us ny coffee ka mug uthaya lights off ki or kitchen sy jury balcony k darwazy ko khola...
Bahir thand thi, woh whn rkhi 2 kursiyon mei sy ek py ja baitha...
Us ny coffee ka ghoont bhara, us ki ankhein chindhya gai...
Yun maloom hota tha coffee kaafi talkh thi, ya shyd yaadein...
Ab k tum dekho to uski ankho or honton py koi muskurahat na thi,
Us udas muskurahat ki jaga gehri udaasi ny ly li thi...
Woh kuch sochty hue coffee k ghoont halak sy utarny lga...
Shyd yaadein b...
Coffee ka mug khali ho gaya to woh utha or mug kitchen counter py rkhha.
Bahir gehri raat mei udas pri khali kursi apny mehman ko udasi sy jaty dekhty rhi.
Woh apny kamry mei ja baitha or phr sy laptop utha k kam krny lga
Ab agr tum dekho to us chehry py sanjeedgi k siwa kuch na tha...
Na thakaan, na soch, na yaadein...
(It was a beautiful, furnished, luxurious house...
Anyone who passed by would pause and admire it.
A lovely white house, surrounded by lights from all sides,
A cone-shaped roof, wide windows, deep brown doors...
If you peek inside, you'd see... a peaceful room,
bathed in soft light, radiating complete silence...
A shadow appeared there of a man.
Silent, busy...
His fingers were flying over the laptop keyboard.
Suddenly, he groaned & held his head in both hands.
A sharp pain seemed to be eating him, he struggled to keep his eyes open.
Suddenly he got up & walked out of the room...
The house was quiet, now you'd think he lived there alone...
But that wasn't true...
He walked, tired, toward the kitchen, turned on the lights & looked around.
After thinking for a moment, he picked up a lite blue mug.
He placed it on the counter & started looking for coffee, added some beans into the mug,
He poured a little water & began to grind the bitter beans...
It was clear he doesn't like coffee made in machine.
Leaning against the counter, he began making coffee...
As the beans ground, a bitter smell started to fill the room...
His eyes froze on a point... as if he was lost in thought...
In his eyes there was a deep sadness of the world, though he smiled while making coffee
A sad smile...
He was remembering something... a sad smile played on his eyes & lips...
By then his coffee was ready...
He picked up the mug, turned off the lights & opened the door leading to the balcony...
It was cold outside, he sat on one of the two chairs out there...
He took a sip of the coffee & his eyes blinked from the bitterness...
It was hard to tell if it was the bitterness of the coffee or the memories...
Now if you look, there was no smile on his eyes or lips,
The deep sadness had replaced the smile...
He kept sipping the coffee, lost in thoughts...
Perhaps in memories too...
When the coffee mug was empty, he got up & placed it back on the kitchen counter.
In the deep night, the empty chair watched its guest leave with a quiet sadness.
He returned to his room & picked up his laptop again to start working.
Now if you see his face, it held nothing but seriousness...
No tiredness, no thoughts, no memories...)
Zavian was a neglected child
He was born seven years after his last sibling a quiet arrival in a home that had already started to fall apart. When he came into this world, instead of being welcomed with joy, fate had something else. His father married another woman shortly after his birth, leaving behind Zavian, his mother & his siblings.
As if that heartbreak wasn't enough, his mother began to believe the cruel words of people around her. They said your son is unlucky... everything went wrong after his birth & somewhere deep inside, she believed it...
From that day, Zavian never received the love he deserved not from the man who left, not even from the mother who stayed. He grew up carrying the weight of blame he never asked for, the silence of rooms that never echoed his laughter & the ache of being the youngest, yet the most forgotten.
His elder brother took charge of the house managing responsibilities with a maturity forced on him too early.
They had everything, everything except happiness.
Zavian slowly went away from them all. He stayed quiet, distant, a shadow in his own home.
His father did try to return, maybe with regret or guilt, but it was too late now. The doors weren't just shut they were sealed with pain.
His mother had suffered deeply, no doubt but in her suffering, she unknowingly passed on her bitterness to her children. She filled their hearts with hatred for the man who walked away, their father.
Yes, he had been a terrible husband but he was still a good father...
And in all the noise of betrayal & broken trust, his mother forgot that.
Zavian, saw it all the good, the bad, the truths buried under years of hate.
In school, Zavian fell for a girl, soft smile, kind words & for a while, it felt like maybe... just maybe, he was finally being seen.
But it didn't last. She left too & when she did, she didn't walk away silently.
She taunted him
"How would you even know how to love? You've never been loved yourself"
That broke something deep within him.
The voices of his family , background noise began to trigger storms inside him.
Every word, every argument, every reminder of being unwanted burned his chest.
When it got too much, he'd lock himself in his room, bury his face in a pillow & scream
Scream until his throat gave up.
Until the sound turned into silence.
Until even pain felt numb.
No one noticed.
No one ever knocked...
He looked good more than good, actually. Zavian was not someone you could just ignore.
Dark brown eyes that held quiet storms & hair the same color of his eyes, in sunlight, it almost glowed, soft & shiny.
His frame wasn't like the boys his age, he looked older, more built, more grounded but his face... there was still a boy in there. A softness, a kind of quiet cuteness that hadn't fully left.
But Eman made him feel like he wasn't even worth a glance. She made him feel unseen, unworthy. That he wasn't good enough not to be loved, not even to be looked at.
He stopped taking pictures.
Stopped facing the mirror.
Started seeing himself through the cruel lens Eman left behind.
Even when he began working with his father, even when his family slowly started reconnecting with the man they once hated, it was too late.
The damage had been done. The kids grew up like rebels, traumatized, angry, emotionally exhausted.
Zavian carried all of that & now... just when he had started to feel calm again, just when peace had a name Mahek
That peace seemed to be slipping away,
going toward someone else...
All about her...about Mahek Sheikh
Mahek woke up & like always, rushed through her morning routine to get ready for university. As an art student, every day her hands were covered in strokes of color, proof of her talent & love for painting. That day, she was working on a scenic landscape & swear to God, the way her fingers moved the long, delicate, artistic fingers...was nothing short of magic.
In a crowd, she was the one your eyes would unknowingly search for. Saying she was the most beautiful woman in the entire universe wouldn’t even feel like an exaggeration. Her walk had grace, her smile had a story & that little chin dimple… it was everything. Honestly, I’m obsessed with it. That & the tiny nose pin she wears it just completes her.
She was the eldest & the only daughter in the family. With two younger brothers, Mahek carried more than just her name, she carried responsibility.
In her early twenties, living in a joint family wasn't easy. Her father was a gentle & kind man & she was just like him soft spoken, caring & full of patience but life didn’t return the same softness to her.
She was expected to be strong since the beginning. Managing studies, housework & her future, all while being that silent listener in the family. She was always there for everyone, but when it came to her, her thoughts, her feelings she was met with silence.
So, in the middle of all this chaos, Mahek decided to write.
She began creating a world of her own where she could shape characters the way she needed them. She wrote a version of herself a strong, sensitive, loving girl… & beside her, she wrote someone she always wished for.
A partner.
Not just a husband but someone who’d listen, protect, pamper her.
Someone who’d stand beside her & never ask her to shrink herself to fit in.
That was her escape, her little wish in ink...
Deep down, she needed someone like Zavian… or maybe, just maybe, she wanted Zavian.
She had always admired the way Zavian loved Eman deeply, selflessly. That kind of love... she craved it. Not just as a fantasy, but as something she silently wished for on her loneliest days.
But destiny had its own way of working.
While she was busy writing her dream partner on paper, somewhere else, someone, Zavian was being shaped by life itself. Through pain, heartbreak & endless struggles, he was becoming the person Mahek always dreamed of. Without even knowing, God was shaping him, not perfectly, but perfectly for her.
You know, sometimes I think… in the book of our fate, Allah leaves few pages blank, pages that quietly say "As You Wish my beloved"
And maybe… just maybe… when Mahek was writing her story, she was unknowingly filling those As You Wish pages of her own destiny.
At Zavian's House...
If you look at that white house again, you’ll see the same man who was working on his laptop
but now, he’s sitting on the floor, on a prayer mat.
His head bowed, hands raised softly, lips moving in silent prayer.
It was a conversation. A quiet surrender of everything heavy in his heart.
Zavian was praying...
“Ya Rabb… You’re the One who brings peace to broken, hollow hearts.
You’re the One who forgives even the deepest sins of those you love, even when their mistakes feel bigger than this whole world.
Ya Rabb, You’re the One who provides Rizq even to those who don’t believe in You.
You’re the One who knows every hidden piece of me, even those I don't show to myself.
You test us through hardship to measure our Iman,
Ya Rabb, I’m tired.
I ask you for your mercy.
I ask you for peace.
I ask you… for Mahi, Ya Rabb.
If this is written, if she’s written for me, bring her to me with ease.
And if not, make it happen in every possible way, you're the ruler of this world Ya Rabb,
You can turn impossibilities into possibilities.
You'll say KUN, it will happen.
I ask for your KUN Ya Rabb.
You're the ruler of KUN FAYA KUN, you're the one who can make mountains speak.
Ya Rabb only with your KUN, my broken heart will bloom again.
I ask you for your mercy.
I ask you for Mahek, Ya Rabb...
Ameen”
Zavian whispered Ameen & gently ran his hands over his face.
He sat there, still, quiet, wrapped in a strange calm, holding on to hope.
In the soft darkness of the room, the scene slowly faded into blur…
I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Stay tuned for the next part...🤍📚
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