Taabindagi (Sequel Of Sharar)

Chapter 20 is up on stck

•••

"Eifa, jaldi se humare hair style kar dein, hume Khala ke sath jana hai!"

(Eifa, quickly do my hairstyle, I have to go with Khala!)

The door to the room burst open, and in rushed Sharfa, her voice carrying urgency as she plopped down on the floor beside Eifa's bed without waiting for an invitation. Her long honey-brown hair cascaded down her back in soft waves, gleaming under the warm bedroom light.

Eifa, momentarily taken aback by the sudden intrusion, blinked at her before sighing and setting her phone aside. Without a word, she reached for the hairbrush Sharfa had brought along.

As she ran the brush through the silky strands, she couldn't help but admire the smoothness of her cousin's hair. "Tumhare baal bohot achhe hain, Momo." she murmured, her fingers gliding effortlessly through the waves.

(You have really nice hair, Momo.)

"Tum na, steps mein haircut karwalo, suit karega tum par," Eifa suggested as she carefully styled her hair.

(You should get a step haircut. It'll suit you.)

"No!" Sharfa turned so abruptly that a few strands slipped from Eifa's fingers. She looked as if Eifa had just committed an unforgivable offense.

Eifa lightly tapped her head. "Seedhe baitho," she instructed, shaking her head at Sharfa's dramatics. With a pout, Sharfa obeyed, sitting straight again.

(Sit straight.)

It was strange-Sharfa, the one who always had something to say, now sat quietly, letting Eifa style her hair without a single unnecessary comment.

Finally, when Eifa was done, she handed her a mirror. "Lo, ho gaya."

(There, it's done.)

Sharfa tilted the mirror slightly, inspecting her reflection with quiet curiosity. Eifa had woven a delicate braid from the front, its intricate pattern framing the crown of her head before seamlessly merging into the rest of her hair. The rest of her long, wavy locks cascaded down her back in soft, honey-brown waves untouched and free.

A few rebellious strands had slipped loose, curling gently around her face, brushing against her cheeks. She reached up, tucking one of the loose strands behind her ear, only for it to slip forward again. A small smile tugged at her lips, "Long hair achhe lagte haina?" She asked as if seeking validation.

(Long hair looks nice, right?)

Eifa, nodding absentmindedly, agreed. "Haan, yeh toh hai." After Eifa, Sharfa had the longest hair in the family, reaching past her waist. And they did suit her.

(Yeah, that's true.)

But what Eifa failed to notice was the subtle sparkle in Sharfa's eyes-the kind that appeared when one holds on to a secret too dear to be shared.

Long hair had never been Sharfa's preference.

This fondness wasn't hers. It belonged to someone else. Someone whose every like and dislike was slowly becoming hers. Someone whose attention remained beyond her grasp.

•••

Kaif and Ayla were going to give wedding cards, and Sharfa was also going with them when she heard that they would be visiting Hamna Nani's house as well.

Now, sitting in the Baig Haveli lounge, her gaze darted around, restless and uncertain. Hamna, Kazim, Zinnirah, Kaif, and Ayla were in conversation, unaware of the quiet turmoil in their midst.