Heartbeat on Wheels

“I’m sorry, I was so busted yesterday, I had something personal to do, so I didn’t realize I was late today. Anyhow, it’s my first time being late, so would that be ok?”

Roshi exclaimed, the office boy whose job was to mark the attendance of all the employees.

“Yes, ma’am. No problem, I’ll take care of it. I know you’re always on time.”

Roshi then headed to her office and made herself comfortable. She took her breakfast, and after taking the first sip of pink tea, she got a telephonic call from the senior doctor, who told her that the employee had already left.

“What? He left? That’s a rude attitude right there. Sir, I mean, he should’ve waited. After all, he's the one who needs a job. Anyways, have a great day, Sir!”

Roshi puts down the telephone and continues sipping her favourite tea.

After finishing the tea, she picked up her phone and started scrolling through Facebook. As she was scrolling, she stopped at the breaking news that sounded :

"This is Geo News with a heartbreaking update. A devastating fire broke out at the famous restaurant Mughal Pai in Karachi. Tragically, 12 kitchen staff members lost their lives on the spot. The receptionist and her team have sustained serious injuries and are currently being treated in the ICU. We request everyone to keep the victims and their families in their prayers. Stay with us for more updates–Geo News”

“Mughal Pai?? STAFF?... HAMZA!!?”

That was it! Roshi totally forgot about the fact that she’d just– a day ago– found out that he told her the wrong address.

She merely heard “Muhgal Pai,” and she almost fainted. All she calculated was that Hamza works in that restaurant and he's in danger.

“Ma'am, you just got to the hospital, are you leaving already?”

Roshi was in a rush. She wasn’t even watching out for the chairs that narrowed the path outside her room, accidentally stubbed her foot, and it started bleeding.

“Anwar bhai– brother, I’m in a hurry. A friend of mine is in danger. Just pray that he’s safe. Pray for him.”

“But, Roshi mam. Your foot? It’s bleeding. Wait, let me bring the first-aid.”

“No, I’m fine. I’m fine, Anwar bhai. Let me go…”

And saying that, Roshi exited the Hospital.

“Ya Allah– Keep Hamza in your protection.”

Roshi was shivering, and she was almost out of her senses– her foot, still bleeding.

When she reached the Mughal Pai, a drastic state it was in. Everything burnt, and the smoke could be seen from a fair distance. Red and yellow caution-taped ribbons surrounding the affected area. The only sound that could be heard at that moment was sirens of Ambulances and Fire trucks.

“Sir, please let me in… Please, I have a friend over here. Please let me…..”

“Ma'am, back off. The situation is already worsening. If you all interrupt our work, then it won't help in any case. Now, please… Let us move the bodies. Step aside”

The policeman pushed her by her shoulder, and right in that direction was a huge IRON-ROD that might’ve been left there by the nearby construction workers.

Her foot was already bleeding and as he forcefully pushed her to the right, she lost control because of the searing pain and like a slow-motioned final scene of a painful movie, she saw in front of her eyes, the rod facing straight to her brain and in a fraction of second she realized that this was her end. That moment might have lasted no more than a blink of an eye, but for Roshi, she could see her life flash before her eyes. Despite all the years she’d spent, all the memories she’d made with her loved ones– that moment, it was only Hamza she could think of. She was so worried about him that she cared not even for her life, and with tears, she screamed “HAMZAA” as she thought those were her last few hopeless seconds witnessing the place where, according to forgotten-her, she lost HAMZA.

“Roshi?”

Here he was. As always– A Hero! He, at the most right moment, grabbed both her shoulders, securing her, and she fell into his arms. He looked into her deep, watery, and terrified eyes, and before he could ask her if she was ok, she looked at him and hugged him tightly.

Hamza was shocked to see Roshi being so terrified. And she hugged him? Hamza’s heartbeat grew faster than EVER. The sound of him breathing could be heard equivalent to the banging of the bodies on the stretcher. It was LOUD. He was breathless. It was the first moment Hamza didn’t care about a thing in the world. All she could see was Roshi, himself, and that moment.

Roshi kept crying in his arms. Her heartbeat wasn’t in the right state either.

“Thank God, you’re okay. Alhamdulillah– Praise be to Allah. Thank you, Allah.”

Hamza locked his eyes with Roshi and said nothing but,

“I’m okay. I’m fine. Don’t worry, Rosh.”

Roshi was so lost in his soft and pure gaze, forgetting that she was still lying in his arms, unconscious, until,

“Ahhhhh! My foot. Oh God, it hurts so bad, Hamza.”

–Hamza–?

She’d never taken his name more beautifully and frequently than that moment.

Each time she said “Hamza”, Hamza would melt away and he would feel his heart skipping frequent beats.

“Oh, Rosh! What have you done? Come sit here… Come. It’s bleeding. Oh my!”

As Hamza was setting her foot on a decent rock to examine, Roshi said,

“Hamza…”

No! Hamza couldn’t take it anymore. His eyes said it all. The intensity in Roshi’s eyes and the tenderness every time she said his name were extreme.

“G? Yes, please?” For Hamza, gulping his saliva felt like thorns spiking his throat.

“This time it’s the left foot.”

Roshi tried to let a chuckle out as she remembered how the first time they met it was her right foot that was injured.

Hamza passed a sweet yet careful smile, knowing that she was still in pain.

“Rosh, have you got the Gauze with you this time?” Hamza intentionally asked Roshi, as he remembered something from the incident before.

“No. Here, my dupatta–scarf, torn a piece from it.” Hamza did as she directed him.

“Hamza, why are you so good at healing?”

It was a question that hit Hamza harder, and hearing it, he couldn't hold back his tears, remembering how his mother used to tell him that he would become a doctor one day, and how good he used to do in the Medical College, and still ended up alone and broken.

Hamza’s voice was really heavy this time.

“My mom used to call me Docto…” Before he could complete the word Doctor, he passed a painful smile, tied the final knot of her gauze, and became silent.

.

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A/N:

Spoiler :I have a happy ending for them. Stay connected.