'Yes I have. Only thing I want you

'Yes I have. Only thing I want you to look into is...' before Abdul could finish what he began it was Jalal's black diamond i-phone that snapped the line. Looking at the caller's name, a frown made its appearance on Jalal's forehead. 'What is it now!!!' Jalal murmurs and picks up the call. 'Yes Ruqaiya'.



'When are u coming to Mumbai Jalal?' asked the lady.

'Yeh puchne ke liye raat ke 3 beje phone kiya tumne?' utters a much annoyed Jalal.

'Din me bhi kiya tha...6 bar...uthaya nehi', now it was Ruqaiya's turn.

'Busy tha Ruqaiya...' countered Jalal.

'Who toh tum pichle saat saal se ho Jalal' this time Ruqaiya's voice sounded heavy.

'Ruqaiya...can we just dig the grave later.' Jalal was about to cut the call of, but something made him stop...something stabbed him hard. It was Ruqaiya's words. 'I told you many times Jalal, the problem you have, is not an issue at all. It doesn't matter to me.'

'But it matters to ME Ruqaiya.' yells a fuming Jalal. The fire that's burning his heart, his mind, his life for last four and a half years, once again engulfs his entire existence. A hurt Jalal continues, 'our agar yeh tum samajh pati toh aaj mere paas hoti'. Finishing his line Jalal swiped the phone to dead.



'Why Abdul why? Why they don't let me forget? Kyun mere jakhm ko kured te rehte hai yeh log? Mujhe mere haal pe chod kyun nehi dete? Kyun?' By the time Jalal finished, a terrible pain had already replaced the anger on his face. He wanted to cry his heart out ... but he can't...he cant let the world see this vulnerable side of him...he cant let his enemies rejoice in this defeat of him. Jalal squished his eyes to gulp the rush of emotion...but a lone tear ruined his effort as it escaped through his eye lashes...Jalal buries his face in his palms.



A silent witness to all this, Abdul rests his head on the seat and closed his eyes in prayer, 'yah khuda sukun bakhs mere dost ko... sukun bakhs mere moula...'

Hasil (Bahasa Indonesia) 2:

'Ya, saya punya. Hanya hal yang saya ingin Anda melihat ke dalam adalah ... 'sebelum Abdul bisa menyelesaikan apa yang ia mulai itu berlian hitam i-phone Jalal yang bentak baris. Melihat nama pemanggil, mengernyit membuat penampilan pada dahi Jalal itu. "Apa yang sekarang !!! ' Murmur Jalal dan mengambil panggilan. "Ya Ruqaiya '. "Kapan u datang ke Mumbai Jalal?" tanya wanita itu. "Yeh puchne ke liye raat ke 3 beje kiya telepon tumne? ' mengucapkan sebuah Jalal banyak terganggu. "Din me bhi kiya tha ... 6 bar ... Uthaya Nehi ', sekarang giliran Ruqaiya itu. "Sibuk tha Ruqaiya ..." balas Jalal. "Siapa toh tum pichle Saat saal se ho Jalal 'kali ini suara Ruqaiya terdengar berat. "Ruqaiya ... bisa kita hanya menggali kubur nanti." Jalal hendak memotong panggilan, tetapi sesuatu membuatnya berhenti ... sesuatu yang menusuknya keras. Itu kata-kata Ruqaiya itu. "Aku sudah bilang berkali-kali Jalal, masalah yang Anda miliki, tidak masalah sama sekali. Tidak masalah bagi saya. " "Tapi itu penting untuk ME Ruqaiya." berteriak a Jalal marah. Api yang membakar hatinya, pikirannya, hidupnya untuk yang terakhir empat setengah tahun, sekali lagi menelan seluruh keberadaannya. Sebuah sakit Jalal melanjutkan, 'kami agar yeh tum samajh pati toh aaj hanya paas hoti'. Finishing line Jalal digesek telepon untuk mati. "Mengapa Abdul mengapa? Mengapa mereka tidak membiarkan saya lupa? Kyun hanya jakhm ko kured rehte te hai yeh log? Mujhe hanya Haal pe CHOD kyun Nehi Dete? Kyun? " Pada saat Jalal selesai, rasa sakit yang mengerikan telah diganti kemarahan di wajahnya. Dia ingin menangis hatinya keluar ... tapi dia tidak bisa ... dia tidak bisa membiarkan dunia melihat sisi ini rentan dia ... dia tidak bisa membiarkan musuh-musuhnya bersukacita kekalahan ini dia. Jalal squished matanya menelan terburu-buru emosi ... tapi air mata tunggal hancur usahanya karena melarikan diri melalui matanya bulu mata ... Jalal mengubur wajahnya di telapak tangannya. Seorang saksi bisu semua ini, Abdul terletak kepalanya kursi dan memejamkan mata dalam doa, 'yah khuda sukun bakhs hanya dost ko ... sukun bakhs hanya Moula ...'