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So a reply to ppl who did not understand the gist of one of my previous reblogs, here are a few articles, info Iโd like to provide to clarify why I have the views I have.
1. I support the NEET studentsโ cause, not every action of sonam wangchuk . He disrespected Hindu faith, he casually used a sentence like an idiom that felt was said with an intention to ragebait or to gather more attention. I will say this again!!! I do respect what heโs doing for the students, being a former neet aspirant and a medical student myself I understand the pain and struggle and stress of taking these exams and the anger and injustice u feel when this shit happens, but one must keep in mind actions have consequences, u cannot very deliberatly and consciously chose to say Something that uk would rub a large group of people the wrong way, and then expect them to come in ur unconditional support. Ppl have their freedom and they will choose to not side with YOU and ur group and still feel for the cause just as much. Like I do.
(Itโs screen recorded, the network was hazy, to look it up urself, look for 2024 ladakh protest, wangchukโs remark in Maa Sita)
2. In a strategically sensitive border region like Ladakh and Kashmir and any other border area, national security and infrastructure must remain a priority : sonam wangchuk in 2024 for his Ladakh riots and asking for special status for Ladakh, basically sixth amendment stating it must have special status, resembling in some forms the article 370 that the govt and mane officers and lawyers worked so hard to scrap to brink J&K into the mainstream. And it bode well for them. wangchuk was asking for a special status for ladakh right after they scrapped special status for Kashmir?
Bro even led Violent riots there, after his hunger strike.
A lot of his demands aligned with a a lot what would favour the chinese stand near Ladakh target the Indian. Iโm sorry but Ladakh is just as vulnerable as Kashmir, maybe we need to brush up our memories but we have already lost a Major part of it to china. In this world strength and technology matters, when we know Ladakh is a bottleneck area why shouldnโt we strengthen it, bcuz we will all sure as hell jump at the govt and the Armed Forces when china does something to push in Ladakh. All this hurts his credibility again.
Credit: @tomorrowwithme
2.5: FCRA : I havenโt fact checked it well but if any neutral baddies out there are interested, there might be a deeper rabbit hole of wangchuk not wanting the FCRA Bill to be passed bcuz it hurts him in some way, do tag me if u find something (or dm we shall discuss in detail ๐)
3. They are giving stage to washed up losers for clout who may be hurting their cause more to stay relevant themselves : I donโt know why would u even question there was no anti Hindu sentiment there, there was literally prakash raj and kunal kamra. Just look up what kamra opened his cakehole for thereโฆ mind u any such comments that wangchuk or kamra ever made, had been about โother religionsโ theyโd be very literally dead, they are alive bcuz they chose Sanatan to make fun of knowing damn well we are not violent people.
Like bitch, say whatever u want to say about govt and businessmen but why do these m*therf*ckers gotta bring religion into it? These A$$holes so hungry for fame bcuz their day job clearly does not get them enough clout. Major Skill issues ๐
4. Finally the point of being a centrist and still not liking Left : The reason is NATIONALISM for India . Now if this triggers u, maybe go around and look up what it means, it means putting country above all else. I accept the faults in my country knowing damn well it needs improvement and that comes by criticism and protest and repeatedly questioning those in power. Why u say revolutionaries were left bcuz in the days if independence the right was pro colonial and left was pro-independence. Left was inherently NATIONALIST, look at Shaheed Bhagat Singh, Netaji Bose, Chandrasekhar Azad, all were leftists in their times, but were pro India. Today, we hear slogans like โBharat tere tukde hongeโฆโ and that shit slogan about Afzal guruโฆ the guy who literally planned attack on the parliament. Today the left wing hosts people who want to organise protests and cut off the chicken neck.
In an ideal world both left and right work to keep a check on each other but at the end of the day work in favour of the country, not try to dismantle it. I have mostly heard anti-Brahmin anti-Hindu slogans from their side, So yes, left has a bad reputation in my opinion, yet I will still give them the benefit of doubt that no extreme side is ever right and I believe in pointing at both pros and cons of both sides, itโll be more easy to support them openly if they stop ostracising and disrespecting the majority.
Iโd love for a regime and power change, but I canโt find a single person on the left who can even claim to do well for the country and be a nationalist. I want political competition, but I also want credible leadership.
5. Finally I would like to say this is the disclaimer of why I have those opinions and that politics is complicated , yet it in no shape and form mean that I am against the protests, I agree and want the students to get their rights and do believe the country needs a VERY SERIOUS Education Reform.
Being a Medico myself, I do believe itโs very unhealthy and dangerous to fast and harm himself this way. I may not agree with him in all matters but what heโs doing is for the students and if he really cares for the cause Iโd urge him to LIVE for it and see it to the end, and NOT DIE for it.
And to the person who said โLook past ur religious beliefโ how come that statement is valid when itโs Sanatan and not the peacefuls? Why should I tolerate disrespect? Why is any other religion more important than mine? Mind u, I come from a faith that openly calls for nationalism, and puts the country first. I dare u to push other religions to do that, u will see how fast religious autonomy and freedom to practice religion would be invoked. So maybe not be a selectively biased hypocrite and see that u were really wrong in saying that. Just saying ๐คท๐ปโโ๏ธ
See that u were really wrong and disrespectful in asking someone to let go of their self respect and that of their community. Dont just follow whatโs trendy, learn to read nuances about everyone cause no oneโs perfect.
P.S. to the people saying this end of dhurandhar era, cuz they are radio silent. Valid! Donโt write fics thatโs ur right. But how fast u came to cancel them, come just as quickly to criticise when ur some other fav celebrity chooses to NOT speak about some attack on Indian soil (bcuz knowing our neighbours and some residents too) this Shit might keep happening. Pls do also criticise those who speak ill of country, and those who disrespect someoneโs faith be it minority or majority and not be selective about it. Pls do not be a part of the problem by showing selective outrage, much like the side u r apparently siding with. Donโt be hypocrites in future.
also if ur gonna criticize the dhurandhar cast, criticize ur other favs as well- ur fav sportspersons and ur fav comedians and ur fav whoever tf man
u cannot expect all people to post and talk about everything. and what do u guys think? 4 actors ke bolne se ministry will resign? yes what happened was wrong. yes govt should take accountability. yes dharmendra pradhan should resign. no they wonโt resign a wholeass ministry immediately without a full-proof plan. yes reneet was successful. yes whoever managed to pass neet honestly should be able to pass reneet too. no it wonโt bring back the students who are no more. no it wonโt avenge them either.
give it fucking time. dharmendra pradhan ke abhi resign krne mei kuch fark nhi padega sorry to say guys. cabinet reshuffling already planned h. tum usse aaj resignation lo ya kal, it doesnโt matter. fir jaldi mei kisi aur ko minister banayenge tumhe usse problem hoga like wtf man.
secondly, ye protest ke naam pe jo harkat horhi h. there are continuous slogans that are being raised. โbharat ke tukde hongeโ โparliament jala dengeโ. Is this who yโall support? if not supporting CJP is being anti national, is this what yall call nationalism?
half the ppl in the protest have no relation whatsoever to NEET. they donโt even know what neet stands for. get a life people.
A/N:-This was something I had written long back to get out of my writer's block. I had challenged myself to write all the dialogues in hindi/urdu because I am uncomfortable with the language. I would have posted it sooner but I guess I was just embarrassed at the dialogues. Anyway, it had been gathering dust in my drafts for too long so, here goes nothing ig.
"Bab..ba...", a small shaky voice whispered.
Rehman looked down, his mind still busy trying to add the numbers on the last row of the sheet and calculate the decimal point, when he felt a little hand tug on his salwar. And just as he finally noticed the sight in front, he was shaken out of his thoughts almost violently.
It was his youngestโ Faizal.ย
He was looking up at him with those big brown eyes of his, framed by a mass of Ulfat's wavy curls. But what made his heart stop were the unmistakable tracks of tears on those chubby cheeks, the red rimmed overly bright eyes and a gut wrenching fear shaking that tiny body.
Rehman's mind filtered rapidly through a million worse case scenarios even before he had spoken. He had dropped his pen on the desk and turned fully towards his son and opened up his arms in an ever familiar gesture.
"Faizal..ro kyun rahe ho, beta? Chot lgi hain tumhe? Abbu ko batayoโ", he said encouragingly trying to curb the panic in his voice as another fat tear rolled down Faizal's round cheek.ย
The boy didn't even try to get closer which was completely contrary to his usual clinginess. Then he said something hesitantly and so low that Rehman had to strain quite some bit to hear the words.ย
โAap..gussa ho..mujhse..Abbu?โ, he hiccuped thickly, small hands fidgeting with his clothes and spiky lashes lowered.ย
Rehmanโs heart twisted inside his chest, sickeningly. He closed the slight distance between them, immediately picking his youngest from under his arms and made him sit on his lap and wrapped his own large arms securely around the latterโs miniscule body.ย
โNhi nhi, meri jaan. Kabhi nhi. Tumhe aisa kyun laga?โ, he rocked him a little trying to console, wiping his tears away.
Pain hooked piercingly inside his throat with every sniffle the little boy was letting out.ย
Faizal was clinging to him finally, face buried inside his chest, shaking and clutching his fatherโs kurta. His next words were muffled but for the first time, there was a slight accusation in his teary tone that was conversant with children expressing their brand of hurt miffedness with their parents.ย
The cadence changing from that heartbreaking fear would have relieved Rehman had he not heard the actual reason for his sonโs anguish.ย
โKal main..aaya tha apke paas kahani sunne..โฆ. aapne daantaa..phir subhah bhi nhi aayeโฆโ, he replied thickly, stopping in between to gulp down the oncoming tears.
Realisation hit Rehman like lightning falling on a dried tree.ย
He remembered being extremely tense since the past week, and then hazily about Faizal coming inside his room yesterday night when he was busy trying to find a solution to a very convoluted logistics issue. He had been pissed at one of his business associates already and quite frustrated with his gangโs incompetence.ย
As if that wasnโt enough, he had had to spend an ungodly amount of time near Jamali.ย
That man could single handedly turn a completely sane person batshit crazy with his antics.ย
There had been a severe migraine about to knock behind his eyes.ย
It was then that his youngest had come inside the room like a whirlwind, creating a ruckus. Rehman hadn't even registered what Faizal had been saying, just that he was irritating him. The little boy had been tugging at his sleeve, running around his desk. He had asked him to go find his brother but Faizal wasn't listening to him.ย
And his headache was worsening.ย
And he had lost his temper.ย
Rehman remembered shouting at him quite loudly.
He never raised his voice at his kids. Never.ย
It has never been necessary. They were too acclimatized to his silent warning glares and quiet call of their names to stop misbehaving for him to shout at them. The most they got were very stern lectures.ย
Ulfat was the one who would yell at the kids all the time.ย
But the boys loved their mother too much to heed to her anger most of the time, much to the latterโs consternation and annoyance. It would amuse Rehman.ย
But he had vowed to himself that come what may he would not scream at them.ย
At least not till they were of Uzairโs age.
Children might forget the words, might forget the reasoning and the discipline and the well intentionsโ but they remembered the violence. The fear would get ingrained inside their blood like a disease that would hold a part of them captive for the rest of their lives.ย
Rehman was so intimately familiar with that fear.ย
And he had vowed he would die before his boys face his wrath like that.ย
He could be a soulless monster outside but as soon as he crossed the threshold of his house, Rehman Dakaitโ the bastard king, the Balochi butcher, had to step back immediately.ย
But.ย
Yesterday, he had forgotten.ย
How could he forget?
It wasnโt his sonโs fault.ย
Little Faizal had startled and stopped and Rehman hadn't even glanced at him, relieved when he hadn't heard any more noise which meant his son had indeed left him alone to go bother his brother and he could stress out in peace.ย
He hadn't even looked at him.
Rehman had scared him.ย
Faizal had looked scared when he had entered the room today, scared to tug at his sleeve, scared to come closeโ the boy who would leap at him at every chance possible, stuff marbles inside his shoes, hide his pens and his papers and create all kinds of mischief.ย
The little boy had just wanted a story.ย
Rehman had initiated a tradition of bedtime stories so that he could spend time with the boys. Naieem had evidently become too big for a bedtime story as declared by him the last time he had tried to do it, when the former had passed his tenth birthday. And being thirteen at present, the boy insisted he was practically an adult.ย
At that time, Rehman had been relieved that Faizal had been young enough to demand for his fatherโs attention still.ย
Rehman had been so busy the past week that he hadnโt had time for bedtime stories. The five year old had been irritating him yesterday because he missed his father.
It felt like someone had reached into his chest and torn out his heart and discarded it like trash. Guilt flooded his throat like sludge and he wanted to go back in time and smack the shit out of himself and then throw himself off a cliff for good measure.ย
He hurt his poor innocent baby because he couldnโt solve his own problems like an incompetent weak idiot. The irony was so strong it made him want to cryโ
A father yelling at his son because he was easier game, throwing the poisonous arrows at an easy target because the so-called monster wasnโt capable of hitting the original one.ย
Rehman cupped Faizal's wet cheeks and wiped the rest of the emerging tears and felt the burn of it inside his own eyes.
โMera baccha..โ, he kissed his little forehead and then his cherubic cheeks and then on top of his curls that still smelled faintly of the coconut shampoo which Ulfat used to wash them.ย
โAbbu ko maanf kardo mera baccha..main tumse gussa nhi tha.. apne aapse thaโ, he kept pressing his lips to the crown of his head hoping he could physically pull the pain and the ensuing fear out of that tiny figure
Idiotโฆ
Idiot fucking stupidโฆ
โAap phir naraz nhi ho mujhse?โ, Faizal asked finally, wiping his eyes away with his small hands, calming down with his fatherโs kisses and consolations.ย
โNhi beta. Tu toh jaan hain meri..abbu ki jaan hainโ, he repeated it firmly and rubbed the boyโs trembling back soothingly and tightened his arms.ย
โToh..kahani?โ, he asked, voice becoming small.ย
Rehman booped his nose with his youngest, making the boy giggle finally. It was like feeling sunshine on oneโs face after a millenia of darkness.ย
Faizal squeaked happily when his father leapt up the chair with him and sprinted towards his bedroom, laughing when Rehman intentionally swung him precariously as they went up the stairs.ย
Later, one glass of milk and two bedtime stories later Faizal was finally snuffling lightly in deep slumber, face smushed against his pillow, curled into the curve of Rehmanโs body siphoning off his fatherโs warmth unabashedly.ย
Rehman was certain Faizal would forget all about this the very next day. The child was way too happy. And children in general were incredibly resilient. But heโ oh for him, this was branded into his soul, adding to the pile of wounds that wouldnโt scab over so easily.ย
He had made his baby cry.ย
That simply wonโt let its claws off his throat.ย
Rehman was stroking the sleeping boyโs hair gently, eyes focussed far away into the darkness of the room only lit by a dimmed amber table lamp at one side.
A sudden hand on his shoulder almost made him jump off his skin. He turned and found his gaze meeting his wifeโs.ย
Ulfatโs eyes were beautiful and kind and she had settled into the small space left at the other side of him on the bed. She leaned against him and pressed her forehead to his temple and rubbed his arm soothingly.ย
She knew.ย
Of course she knew.ย
At this point, Rehman had stopped asking how she did. Everytime.ย
โMaine cheekha uspeโ, he whispered as if confessing his sin would lessen it.ย
โHaan. Maine bhi cheekhti hun unpe, Rehman. Badmashi karte hain jab. Aapke dusre shehzaade pe toh har roz cheekti hunโ, she smiled.ย
โHaan par..woh alag hain. Tumhara chillana jayaz hain..maine dara diya usse..bewajah, begunaโโ, he swallowed hard, voice breaking off at the end.ย
Ulfat sighed and lifted her head, she reached over him and caressed her sonโs hair gently.ย
โTumne uspe ekbaar chilla diya toh tum apne baap jaise nhi banjaoge, meri jaanโ, she whispered softly.ย
Even the thought of it made Rehmanโs skin roil. He shuddered and forcefully threw the image of the man who had sired him and the one who was supposed to protect him into an unused locked corner of his mind.ย
โDekho toh issko..hum dono ki neend udaake khud aramse so raha hainโ, Ulfat chuckled affectionately while Faizal, as if on cue, yawned in his sleep turned around and shifted closer to his father.ย
Rehman huffed and felt his curdling guilt subside a little at the unconscious way his son still seemed to search for him in his sleep.ย
Ulfat was right.ย
Maybe he could yet turn this around again.ย
โMain soch raha tha, hum kahi chalte hain kuch dino keliye. Iss sheher se ghinn aagyi hain mujheโโ,he muttered, thumbing his wifeโs knuckles tenderly. Ulfat shifted and brought an arm around his waist pulling him closer.ย
โAccha socha hain aapne. Agar Naieem ko apne kitabo se kheech ke alag karsaktein hain, toh beshak chalenge. Mere saath bhi thoda waqt bita lenge phir, agar huzoor ki marzi ho tohโ, Ulfat teased him, sighing in mock discontent.ย
Rehman turned towards her slightly and pulled her into his arms.ย
He had missed her too.ย
Breathing in a lungful of his wifeโs irresistible fragrance, he chuckled inside her beautiful hair.ย
โAap toh humari mallika hain, Ulfat begum. Aap hi ki hukumat chalti hain humare dil peโ, he pressed his lips to her head.ย
โWaah, kya bekaar shayari kiya aapneโโ
โUlfatโ
She giggled but raised herself up from his chest and kissed the teasing downward curve of his lips. Rehman sighed into her kisses and pulled her closer.ย
A sudden movement beside froze him and he left his wife to look.ย
Faizal had taken a hold of his kurta in his sleep.ย
Ulfat laughed beneath her hand as she pulled herself off him swiftly despite his light protest.ย
โUh huh, aaj Faizal ko apne Abbu ki zaroorat hain. Tum so jao, main aati hun thodi der meinโ, she patted her sonโs head lightly and walked away.ย
Rehman smiled and turned to wrap his arm over the little boy, essentially trapping him under his warm weight in a way and felt sleep pull drowsily at his eyelids.ย
The sea sounded nice for a change.ย
The beach and sunshine and sea shells and his childrenโs laugher in the background and his wifeโs hand inside his own as she yelled at them to not drown themselvesโ
And if Jamali calls him, he could just chuck his phone inside the waves.ย
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iโm sorry yโall iโve been so damn inactive but last few weeks have been stressful to say the least! i didnโt even know if i was coming back infact a few days ago i was like โyea i think im done w this fandom.โ
HAPPY TO SAY IM NOT DONE MY FEED DID THE MAGIC AND I LIKE BEING IN THIS FANDOM NAY I LOVE BEING IN THIS FANDOM I MISS IMAGINING SCENARIOS WITH MY UZI BABY AND KUCHU PUCHU REHMAN IM SO BACK HELL YEAAAAAA
(khair abhi wapis likhna shuru krungi toh post krungi abhi im def back and gonna interact w yallโs fics as soon as i get home yayayayayau)
The screen fades in from complete darkness. A low, rhythmic thumping of heavy bass echoes, slowly transitioning into the frantic, haunting melody of traditional anklets clinking in a panic.
They say that in the heart of Lyari, everything has a price. The weapons, the loyalty, the survival, and the fear. The laws are written in blood by men who carry heavy shadows in their eyes. But what happens when the absolute master of this underworld crosses paths with the one thing he cannot buy, control, or easily break?
Welcome to Rhythm of the Heart. A world where two legendary dancers spin through the crossfire, turning dangerous survival into a breathtaking art form.
One king. Two completely distinct souls. Three parallel destinies waiting to be unlocked by your hands.
[ SELECT YOUR PATH ]
PATH 01: THE CRIMSON ROUTE
"Lekin mera manna hai ke har gunah aur har burai ke andar... kahin na kahin thori si insaniyat aur achai zaroor chupi hoti hai." (But I believe that inside every sin and every evilness... somewhere, some kindness and good must exist.)
Step directly into the sizzling, dangerous orbit of the King of Lyari himself. A path filled with intense possessiveness, midnight marketplace encounters, protective warmth, and deep emotional healing. When you look past the weapons and the fear, will you find a quiet sanctuary hidden beneath his power, or will the weight of his empire burn your world down to ash?
Focus: Rehman Dakait x Reader โข Romantic Suspense โข Pure Devotion
PATH 02: THE SAPPHIRE ROUTE
"Wo ek ishare se in bare bare mardun ko ungliyon par nacha sakti hain." (With just a single gesture, she can make these powerful men dance on her fingers.)
Explore the parallel thread of the unbreakable bond. Watch how the electric sapphire frost of Safira cuts through the dark underworld architecture when the stakes are at their highest. A path dedicated to the secondary branch where alternative choices change the very flow of the Lyari hierarchy, shifting alliances and testing loyalties under the heavy gaze of the guards.
"Bhai... un do aurton ne aapki soch ko aesa banta ke aap bas dekhte reh gaye." (Brother... those two women split your thoughts so deeply that you're just left here watching them.)
Locked behind the shadows of Lyari lies a hidden trajectory. When the music swells to its peak and the rules of the underworld collapse entirely into a wild, breathless panic, where will the dancers find their sanctuary? A completely unpredictable path where the choices aren't simple, the future isn't guaranteed, and survival requires a brand new type of rhythm.
This interactive series consists of 6 short chapters total. Each route is completely independent, serving as a standalone branch that highlights a completely different side, vulnerability, and beauty of the characters involved. New chapters will unlock eventually
The music swells to a final, dramatic crescendo as the silver anklets and gold bangels clink one last time, freezing on a silhouette of the dancers standing beneath the burning Lyari stars.
The stage is officially set. The choice is entirely yours. Which rhythm will your heart follow?
Author's Note: Welcome to the opening of my brand new interactive series! I am excited to share this universe with you all. This is a short six-chapter fanfiction, and the schedule for updates will be based completely on reader interactions The more love, comments, and asks a path gets, the faster the story unfolds. Each individual branch is built to highlight the unique beauty and depth of the characters, so please to explore them all as I poured my heart into every route
TAGLIST IS OPEN! If you want to be notified for my work, please drop a comment below or send an ask to let me know
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โ Live Streamingโ Interactive Chatโ Private Showsโ HD Qualityโ Free Actions
Free to watch โข No registration required โข HD streaming
This is just a second before Yalina says 'Ae chacha teri ammi ki karaun dusri shaadi?'
Rehman was already looking at her before she even said anything! He knew whatever the photographer said would get a reaction from her!
What if he knew Yalina would give a befitting reply because she's been a regular at the haveli for years (id like to think from the age of 6-8?) so he's used to the sass, enjoys it and DEFINITELY encourages it.
Also, what makes Yalina speak in such a tone? Growing up in a rich neighbourhood, most girls have a very polished vocab and Yalina does speak in that manner when she's talking to Hamza after the club fiasco BUT here when she's around her Rehman Bhai she is at ease, in her element rather.
Soo Yalina probably picked up this lingo during her visits to Lyari and the haveli and there must have been instances where Rehman saw her feistiness and with a smirk thought 'yeh apne baap se mukhtalif hai, approved'.
just finished enola holmes 3 and i just wanna say that millie is a better woman than i am coz i would not remember i had a husband after kissing louis partridge.
โRehman Baloch x Readerโ[ ch.1/?] ~ใSeriesใ
Masterlist
Summary:โ He married her for his wife. He hunted her down for himself. She came back for reasons she'll never say out loud.
The smell of gun oil and cold steel used to cling to your father's clothes every evening when he returned from Rehman Baloch's factory. But now, the house only smelled of antiseptic and despair.
When the stroke hit, it took away the right side of his body and, with it, the only income keeping your family afloat. With a paralyzed father, a weeping mother, and two younger siblings to feed, the mantle of breadwinner fell onto your shoulders. You had no choice but to go to the one man who held the keys to your survival: Rehman Baloch.
Rehman Baloch's haveli was as intimidating as the man himself. A formidable figure in the underworld, he sat behind his massive mahogany desk, his sharp eyes studying you as you made your plea.
"Sardar..." you began, your voice trembling but resolute. "Abba ab chal phir nahi sakte. Ghar mein maa, chota bhai aur behen hain bhooke marne ki halat mein. Mujhe factory mein koi bhi kaam de dijiye, main kar lungi."
Rehman took a drag of his cigarette, the smoke curling around his hardened features. He remembered your father's loyalty. "Gun factory ka mahaul aurton ke liye theek nahi hai," Rehman replied, his baritone voice echoing in the quiet study. He paused, thinking of his own family. "Mera chota beta hai, Faizal. Uski dekh-bhal ke liye kisi ki zaroorat hai. Haveli mein rahogi, Faizal ki aaya bankar. Tankhwa tumhari umeed se zyada hogi. Manzoor hai?"
You nodded instantly. It was a lifeline.
Life in the Baloch household was unexpectedly warm at first. You became fiercely protective of little Faizal, and in return, Rehman and his wife, Ulfat, treated you with respect. Ulfat Baloch was a striking woman, radiating the fierce pride of a mother who had birthed the heir to the Baloch empire: Naieem.
But in their world, peace was always borrowed time.
The news came on a Tuesday night. Naieem had attended a close friend's wedding. What was supposed to be a night of celebration turned into a massacre when a rival gangster, Babu Dakit, ambushed the venue. When Naieem's blood-soaked body was brought into the courtyard, the Baloch household shattered. The wails that tore from Ulfat's throat didn't sound human.
As weeks turned into months, the fierce matriarch faded into a ghost. One evening, you walked into the living room to find Ulfat sitting in a rocking chair, softly humming a lullaby. Cradled against her chest was a lifeless porcelain doll, wrapped in an old baby blanket.
"Sshh..." Ulfat whispered, glaring at Rehman as he stepped into the room, his eyes red and exhausted. "Mera Naieem so raha hai. Shor mat karo, Rehman. Usse neend aa rahi hai."
Rehman dropped to his knees beside her. "Ulfat, khuda ke liye hosh mein aao. Yeh khilona hai... Naieem jaa chuka hai, meri jaan."
Ulfat clutched the doll tighter, her eyes flashing with a terrifying, hollow anger. "Jhoote ho tum! Yeh raha mera bacha! Babu Dakit kuch nahi kar paya usse!"
Rehman was a man who commanded an army, but in the face of his wife's broken psyche, he was utterly powerless. Doctors were brought in quietly. The psychiatrist suggested that bringing a new life into the house, another baby, might snap Ulfat out of her psychosis and give her maternal instincts a real anchor.
But Ulfat had gone through early menopause. She was completely infertile. There would be no more children for the Baloch family.
Months passed. You did your best to keep Faizal away from the silences that had settled into every room. One afternoon, you were in the courtyard with Faizal. You were chasing him, your laughter mixing with his pure, innocent giggles. You picked him up, spinning him around before pressing a warm kiss to his forehead. For a moment, the heavy shadows over the haveli seemed to lift.
From the second-floor balcony, Ulfat watched you.
She held the porcelain doll to her chest, but something behind her eyes clicked into place , the way it did when she used to give orders. She didn't see a maid playing with her son. She saw a mother. She saw warmth, youth, and life.
Without a word, Ulfat turned and walked straight to Rehman's study. He looked up from his ledgers, startled by her sudden presence. For the first time in months, she wasn't looking at the doll. She was looking right at him.
"Rehman..." she said, her voice eerily calm. "Mujhe mera Naieem wapas chahiye."
Rehman sighed heavily, rubbing his temples. "Ulfat, hum is bare mein baat kar chuke hain. Main majboor hoon..."
"Nahi. Ek rasta hai," she interrupted, walking to the window and pointing down at the courtyard where you were holding Faizal's hand. "Dekho usse," Ulfat whispered, her breath fogging the glass. "Faizal uske paas kitna khush hai. Usme jaan hai, Rehman. Uska khoon garam hai. Woh mujhe mera Naieem lauta sakti hai."
Rehman had put men in the ground with his bare hands. He had never flinched. He flinched now.
"Tum janti ho tum kya keh rahi ho, Ulfat? Woh humari mulazim hai."
Ulfat turned to him, tears streaming down her face, but her jaw was set with terrifying determination. She stepped closer, grabbing Rehman's collar with trembling hands.
"Ek aur nikah kar lo, Rehman. Usse apni biwi banao."
Rehman stared at her in stunned silence.
"Mujhe mera bacha chahiye, Rehman," Ulfat sobbed, her voice breaking. "Uski kokh se mera Naieem wapas aayega. Tumhe yeh karna hoga... mere liye. Humare liye."
Outside, you smiled and wiped dirt from Faizal's cheek.
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I will be honest, I haven't watched most of his interviews yet, primarily because the interviewers have been incompetent, the questions repetitive, boring, lengthy etc.
The interviewer in this is bubbly, personable,intelligent, fun without going over the top or loud, while being a good listener. She put Danish at ease and was kind. There was laughter and it felt like a conversation between friends more than an interview.
She genuinely likes him and did her research on him, made the effort to prepare and ask him interesting questions. For someone so young and bubbly, she is a good interviewer and especially in the entertainment space.
They surprisingly covered a broad-range of topics - from his dream roles, to life philosophy and even world peace , all under 30 minutes. You know he really appreciated the interview.
It was comprehensive, personal without getting intrusive, fun without being vapid or superficial. This one actually gave me an insight into his personality and mind. He opened up and was great at bantering while dropping a few pearls of wisdom.
I wish to see more such interviews with him.
He chose Sharvari among the options but I would have chosen Wamiqa opposite him. They would be looks and acting matched.