The garden was alive with color, a patchwork of yellows, purples, and whites. A younger Manal stood among the flowers, her laughter ringing through the air as she plucked the blossoms with carefree abandon.
"Look at these," she called out, holding a handful of flowers toward him. "It’s like a fairyland, isn’t it?"
Nayel, standing a few steps away, shook his head with a smirk. "You and your fairy tales, Manal."
She twirled, her dupatta catching the sunlight, and gave him a mock glare. "You don’t understand. Every Shah girl knows this garden is magic. My mother told me it’s where fairies bless the flowers."
"Fairies, huh?" Nayel leaned against a tree, smirking. "Ask them to fix your math grades. They clearly skipped that blessing."
Manal spun around, clutching a bunch of wildflowers. "My math grades are fine, Nayel!"
"Right, because 32 out of 100 is a passing grade in Fairyland?" He ducked as she threw a flower at him.
"Haa toh sab log tumhaari tarah chalte phirte calculator nahi hosakte na". She shot back then took a pause, took a deep breath, and snapped, "You’re just jealous I’m better at history. Want me to remind you of your last score?"
"History’s useless," he retorted, plucking a flower and twirling it. "Numbers change the world."
"Hahaha...you are funny," her voice laced with sarcasm.
"You think you’re fun?" he asked, feigning shock. "Your idea of a good time is naming flowers and tripping over them."
"At least I’m not boring like you!"
Nayel smirked, plucking a flower lazily. "You know, Manal, I could add some real excitement to your life by telling your father you visit my home daily."
Manal’s eyes widened in sheer panic. "You wouldn’t dare!" she hissed, stepping closer, her voice low but urgent.
"Why not?" he teased, leaning closer with a sly grin. "I’m sure he’d love to hear all about our secret rendezvous in the garden."
"You’re insufferable!" she whispered sharply, glancing around as if spies were hiding in the bushes. "And for the record, I don’t visit your house. It’s a garden. Gardens don’t count!"
"Oh, they count," he said, straightening up, enjoying her flustered state. "Especially if I tell him how you called it our fairyland."
Manal opened her mouth to retort, then froze. "Wait... what time is it?"
Nayel checked his watch. "Almost six. Why?"
Her face paled. "I was supposed to be home an hour ago!" She turned and bolted toward the gate, yelling over her shoulder, "If you say anything, Nayel, I swear I’ll—"
"Trip over the flowers again?" he called out, laughing. Her muttered curse as she stumbled, "Kamina."
The next day, Manal walked into school, heart racing. Unlike the regular days, her face looked like she just got the news of doomsday."Ohhh, she forgot her schoolbag at home!! Again...what’s new..." Panic rose in her chest. The test, the homework... she couldn’t face another disaster.
"Azah! I... I left my bag at home," she whispered to her cousin, eyes wide with horror.
Azah’s expression was a mix of concern and amusement. “You’re kidding, right?”
“I wish!” Manal groaned. “What do I do now? I can’t go back, I’ll be late!”
Azah, seeing the panic in Manal's eyes, sighed and took charge. “Don’t worry, I’ve got this.”Within minutes, the school gatekeeper, who adored Manal, was calling her.
“Manal, don’t stress! I’ll take care of it. I’ve already made arrangements,” the gatekeeper said, his voice filled with reassuring confidence.
Manal, still nervous, replied, “But... how? I can’t just walk into class without my stuff!”
The gatekeeper chuckled. “Your father’s already got you covered. Don’t worry about it.”
At that moment, the principal entered the room, holding a schoolbag. He walked straight to Manal, a knowing smile on his face. “Here you go, Manal. Your bag’s been personally delivered by your father.”
Manal stared, her jaw dropping. “Wait... how...?”
Azah, standing beside her, smiled slyly. “Your dad knows people. Your bag was here before you even realized you forgot it.”
Nayel, overhearing this exchange, shot a puzzled look at Manal. “Your dad did this? Really?”
Manal, embarrassed, bit her lip. "I just... forgot.” She nervously adjusted the bag on her shoulder.
Nayel, still trying to process how everything seemed to fall into place for Manal, couldn’t help but mutter under his breath, “She’s like... the universe’s favorite.”
"Tum bhi kuch acche kaam karliya karo kya pata tumhe bhi gaibi madad aane lage," Manal shot back.
Later in history class, the teacher questioned, "So the Britishers looted India for about 200 years...they exploited our resources and annexed our land. Can anyone of you explain if it happens in today's time as well??"
Manal raised her hand confidently.
“The Shah family’s ancestral land was unfairly taken by the government decades ago, and everyone knows who benefitted from it.”
Nayel leaned back in his chair, smirking.
“That land was unused for years. My family put it to better use. Maybe you should read the full story, Manal.”
Unfair? The class erupted in murmurs as the teacher tried to intervene.
“Let’s focus on history, not personal issues.”
Manal glared at Nayel.
“It’s personal when your family steals what’s not theirs.”
Nayel’s smug demeanor faltered for a moment, but he quickly recovered.
“The world calls it progress.”
Later that evening, at Shah Mahal, Manal and Azah sat in the living room, recounting the day’s events to the family. The grand space, adorned with intricate Persian rugs and gold-embroidered cushions, reflected the grandeur of the Shah legacy.
Her grandfather, seated regally in his armchair, leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with pride. “You did well, Manal. That boy needed to be put in his place. How dare he call their theft progress!”
Manal, emboldened by his words, added, “Dada jaan, he acts as if we don’t know the truth.”
Azah, lounging beside her cousin, chuckled. “She had the whole class holding their breath. Nayel didn’t know what hit him.”
Manal’s father, seated nearby, raised an eyebrow. “Is this the same girl who forgot her schoolbag today?”
Manal’s face flushed. “Baba, that was different!”
Her uncle, who was quietly sipping tea, couldn’t hold back his laughter. “Manal Shah, champion of debates but can’t remember her own bag! If not for your father, you’d have been lost today.”
Manal crossed her arms defensively. “It’s not like I forget it every day!”
Azah smirked. “No, just every other day.”
Her grandfather interrupted with a booming laugh. “Leave her alone. What matters is that she spoke up when it counted. This is the spirit of the Shah family!”
Her aunt, carrying a tray of tea, shook her head gently. “Manal, you must be careful. You know how delicate things are with Durrani."
Her grandfather dismissed the caution with a wave of his hand. “No, no. She did the right thing. Silence has never served us, and I won’t have my granddaughter sitting quietly when our family’s honor is questioned.”
Azah grinned mischievously. “But you should’ve seen Nayel’s face when Manal called his family thieves. Priceless.”
Manal smirked. “Well, he deserved it. Acting like he’s holier than thou.”
Inaara chimed in from the floor. “Appi, did you really say that in front of the whole class?”
Manal nodded, her eyes twinkling. “Every word, Inaara.”
As laughter filled the room, her grandfather grew serious, his tone firm. “Manal, remember, words have weight. You’ve shown courage, but courage must always be paired with wisdom. Do not let anger guide your actions.”
Manal straightened, her voice steady. “I’ll remember, Dada jaan. Always.”
Azah leaned over, whispering teasingly, “Admit it, you enjoy sparring with Nayel.”
Manal pursed her lips but didn’t respond, the faintest smile betraying her thoughts.
Later, the school bell echoed through the hallway, signaling lunch break. Students shuffled out, the corridor bustling with chatter and hurried footsteps.
Manal walked with her nose buried in her notes, flipping pages as she mumbled historical dates under her breath. Her brows furrowed in concentration, oblivious to the world around her.
Nayel leaned against a pillar a few steps ahead, watching her from the corner of his eye. He noticed the slight tilt of her head, the way she was heading straight for the pillar without realizing it.
A small, amused sigh escaped his lips.
Without hesitation, Nayel stepped forward, casually placing his hand against the pillar just as Manal reached it.
Her shoulder brushed against his arm, and she stopped abruptly, startled. She finally looked up, her wide eyes meeting his calm, knowing gaze.
"You were about to walk into this," Nayel says softly, tapping the pillar with his other hand.
Manal blinks, taking a moment to process. Her cheeks flush slightly, but she recovers quickly, straightening her posture. "Tou tumhaare andar kyu khidmat e khalk ka jazabaa jaag gaya tha"
Nayel smirks faintly, dropping his hand and stepping back. "Do u mean to say thankyou".
Manal huffs, clutching her notes tighter. "Kis baat ka thankyou...yaqeen karo pillar mei sar maarne se wo dimaag nahi ghoomta jo tumse baat karne par ghoomta".
As she walks past him, she glances back briefly. Nayel watches her go, his lips curved with a smile, finally getting her reaction and getting seen, shaking his head, already anticipating the next time he'll have to step in to save her from herself.
💫💫💫💫💫
Nayel enters the Durrani house, his face looking wearily. His dad, sitting at the table, slides a photo toward him without a word. Nayel looks down at the picture of himself smoking in a restaurant, his blood boiling. The note reads: "Thanks for ur generosity"
Nayel's hands ball into fists.
"Who the hell did this?" he growls.
His dad raises an eyebrow, unimpressed.
"Care to explain?"
Nayel glares at the photo.
"Manal," he mutters under his breath. "This is her doing."
Mr. Durrani, unmoved, points at him.
"You're grounded."
Nayel's rage flares.
"Grounded? For what? Breathing?"
Later that day, Nayel marches straight to Manal's house, furious. He bursts through the door, slamming it behind him.
"Manal!" he roars, catching her lounging on the couch, scrolling through her phone.
She looks up, unfazed, a smirk tugging at her lips.
"Ah, the angry bird finally arrived."
Nayel's eyes narrow as he glares at her.
"Did you really think this was funny? Sending that photo to my family? What the hell is wrong with you?"
Manal, completely unbothered, shrugs.
"No...I don't think it's funny but this is exactly you needed"
Nayel steps closer, his voice low and tense.
"You think this is a joke, Manal? I'm getting grounded because of you. I'll make you regret this"
Manal laughs, unfazed by his fury.
"Ohh come no...it's not like I didn't warn u about hanging out with seniors".
Nayel grits his teeth, seething.
"You're lucky I'm not dragging you to my house right now to explain yourself."
Manal leans back on the couch, raising an eyebrow.
"Bold claim for someone jo neeche apne aapko bassam ka dost bataa kar aaya hai"
Nayel's nostrils flare as he storms toward the door.
"You're insane," he mutters, slamming the door behind him.
Manal, still smirking, watches him leave, shaking her head."You needed this, trust me."
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