Chapter 1
Faslay
Intro : Faslay is a tale of forbidden love when two souls who were never meant to fall in love do so anyway, and love, the greatest blessing of all, slowly turns into their most beautiful curse.
⚠️ Disclaimer ⚠️
This story is purely a work of fiction and is not meant to hurt or offend anyone’s sentiments, caste, religion, beliefs, or nation. It is written solely for entertainment purposes.
Please be aware that this story contains strong violence, mature language, sexual content, and themes of murder. Some scenes may be disturbing or triggering for certain readers.
If you feel uncomfortable with such content, please read at your own discretion or kindly refrain from continuing.
Chapter 1 : An Unwanted Beginning
Shanaya Oberoi the perfect woman one could ask for.
A Harvard graduate.
The heiress of the powerful Oberoi Empire.
The only daughter of Vikram Oberoi.
Fashion, diamonds, gold the Oberoi name ruled industries people could only dream of entering. Their empire stretched across countries, their influence impossible to ignore. The Oberoi family had always lived under the spotlight. Cameras, interviews, media attention it was nothing new to them.
And Shanaya had grown up right in the middle of it all.
Since childhood, she had always carried herself with confidence in front of flashing cameras and curious reporters. The media adored her elegance, the public admired her grace.
She was beautiful.
Confident.
Untouchable.
But not today.
Today, the same woman who once faced the world without hesitation felt her confidence slipping through her fingers.
Something had happened in the last four months of her life.
Something that had changed everything.
Something that no one fully understood yet.
Shanaya sat silently in front of the large mirror inside her bedroom, staring at her reflection as the makeup artist carefully fixed the final touches on her face.
Her expression looked calm.
But inside, a storm raged.
“Ma'am, you're ready to go.”
Shanaya slowly blinked, snapping out of her thoughts.
She was wearing a pink skirt suit, elegant and perfectly tailored to her figure. The soft fabric hugged her frame gracefully, paired with sleek heels that added to her poised appearance. Her long dark hair fell smoothly over one shoulder, framing her delicate features.
Anyone looking at her would think she looked flawless.
Perfect.
But perfection often hides the deepest cracks.
A soft knock sounded on the bedroom door.
Before she could respond, the door opened and Vikram Oberoi walked in.
Her father.
A powerful man whose presence alone commanded respect.
He looked at his daughter and his eyes softened slightly.
“Shanaya beta you look stunning.”
She gave him a small smile.
A soft one.
But it never reached her eyes.
Vikram looked at her.
“neecha press agaye don't worry theek hai beta darna nahi Tum ab apne desh mein hoo between your people beta with your family mein hoon Yahan with you unko sab batana whatever happened with you theeka beta don't get emotional it's about our country hmm Chalo beta.”
Shanaya didn’t say a word.
Her throat felt dry.
Her heartbeat suddenly picked up speed as if her heart might burst out of her chest.
Slowly, she stood up.
Together, they walked out of the room toward the private elevator inside their luxurious mansion. The Oberoi residence was nothing short of magnificent marble floors, grand chandeliers, walls decorated with priceless art.
But Shanaya barely noticed any of it.
Her hand instinctively moved to her chest as if trying to calm her racing heart.
The elevator doors opened.
And the moment she stepped outside, blinding flashes of cameras exploded everywhere.
Cameras.
Microphones.
Reporters.
A massive media panel waited for her.
Everyone wanted answers.
Everyone wanted the story.
Shanaya inhaled slowly before walking forward and sitting down in front of the interviewer.
The interviewer smiled politely at her.
“Shanaya ma'am you are ready.?”
Shanaya nodded nervously.
Vikram asked the interviewer, “when are you guys going live”
The interviewer replied casually,
“bas Thori dhair mein India vs Pakistan chal Raha hai it's about to finish we'll go on air after that ke ratings ka issue na hoo.”
The words India vs Pakistan reached Shanaya’s ears.
And suddenly…
Her breath hitched.
Her fingers tightened slightly on the chair.
Almost unconsciously, she whispered the words again.
“India… vs Pakistan…”
Her mind drifted back.
Back to the moment where everything had started.
Back to four months ago.
The moment that changed her life forever.
Mumbai 8th of July
The Business Class lounge at Mumbai Airport was quieter than the rest of the terminal, wrapped in polished luxury and soft golden lighting. Expensive leather chairs, neatly dressed staff, the faint aroma of coffee and perfume in the air everything around it screamed exclusivity.
And right in the middle of it sat Shanaya Oberoi, looking like she belonged there more than anyone else.
Dressed in a sharp black Gucci skirt suit paired with elegant heels, Shanaya sat with one leg crossed over the other, scrolling through her phone with the kind of irritation only rich, spoiled perfection could carry so effortlessly. Her long hair was styled flawlessly, her makeup untouched, her diamond engagement ring glinting every time she moved her hand.
Her eyes narrowed at the screen.
“I got only 5 million views? is pr team ko Toh mein choron gi nahi bunch of assholes.”
Beside her, Kiran looked at her with exhaustion already written on her face.
“please Shanaya think again hum itna door Kiyun jaa Raha you can do all of this here in Mumbai as well”
Shanaya looked up from her phone and gave her a dramatic, almost offended stare.
“oh please kiran out of all the people you Tumhe pata hai jab Shanaya Oberoi apne zaban dedi phir she will exactly do that jab meina media ko bol diya that me and Rahul are planning a special announcement in Jaisalmer so it will happen babe that we're engaged and we will release our wedding schedule nothing can stop it
She smiled after saying that and lifted her left hand slightly, admiring the ring on her finger as if it were the final proof of a perfect life.
Kiran studied her for a moment before asking quietly,
“you really like Rahul? I mean do you love him”
For the first time, Shanaya’s smile faded.
Not fully.
Just enough to reveal something colder underneath.
“love wagera Kuch nahi hota it's actually the understanding aur Mein aur Rahul are friends since childhood we are best friends we are similar we good for each other” and we have a famous celebrity ship #shanul
Kiran gave her a look.
“aur Tum dono ka status same financial blah blah,” she mocked.
Shanaya smirked, completely unbothered.
“yehi cheezien are important Kiran that's Why you always break up”
Kiran rolled her eyes dramatically.
“So rude.”
Just then, Shanaya’s assistant dropped into the seat beside her, completely glued to his phone screen. His attention was so fixed that he didn’t even bother greeting them.
Shanaya sighed in annoyance.
“Pura Time cricket”
Without looking up, he replied,
“ma'am it's India vs Pakistan”
Kiran leaned slightly toward the phone.
“Kaun Jeet Raha?”
Before the assistant could answer, Shanaya replied with instant pride, her tone carrying the sharp arrogance she never even tried to hide.
“ofcourse India Jeet Raha Hogaa below par team hai Pakistan average country uska Sath i don't know India khel ta bhi kiyun” we should never settle for anything less or below par
Kiran gave her a side glance but said nothing.
Instead, she muttered lightly,
“i but there dramas and some of their male actors they are so Hot”
That made Shanaya stand up straight from her seat, visibly offended.
“i don't know Tum Dekhti bhi kiyun hoo Kiran giving them views is Like funding terrorism grow up Kiran”
There was disgust in her voice.
Not casual dislike.
Not teasing.
Real disgust.
The kind built from privilege, bias, and years of hearing the same things so often that they had become truth in her mind.
Kiran looked at shanaya i mean true
Shanaya huffed and walked a little away from them, pulling out her phone again to call her father. Her jaw tightened as the phone kept ringing.
No answer.
She called again.
Still nothing.
all she got was the voice message he had sent earlier. She listened to it again
“beta sorry i won't be able to make it mujhe party ka ticket mil Raha aaj he so i have to do Media interviews and stuff”
Shanaya’s expression darkened immediately.
Pissed.
Upset.
Disappointed.
Her father missing something important was usual and whenever it happened, it always left a mark on her mood.
She turned sharply and walked back toward Kiran, her assistant, and the rest of her team.
“Chalo boarding Karey!”
Kiran looked up in surprise.
“shanaya uncle ka wait?”
Shanaya stormed ahead without stopping.
“woh nahi aarahe”
And just like that, with anger in her steps and pride in her spine, Shanaya Oberoi walked toward boarding, unaware that this journey to Jaisalmer would not just change her plans
It would change her entire life.
Islamabad 8th of July
Asad Zorawar, son of Brigadier Kamran Zorawar, had recently joined the army and already made a name for himself. Standing a solid six feet tall with a muscular, perfectly built frame, he was the kind of man people couldn’t help but notice the moment he entered a room. Veins traced his well-defined arms and neck from countless hours in the gym, and his presence carried a quiet authority. Handsome in a way that made heads turn without him ever trying, he exuded calm confidence. He talked little, observed more, and carried himself with a composed, almost effortless grace not at all like the typical army officer, yet undeniably one of the best in recent years. His shooting and combat skills were unmatched, but he carried a personal baggage he couldn’t shake off.
Asad was packing his bag, lost in thought, when a knock sounded at his bedroom door.
“Jee?” he replied.
Both his parents entered, and he looked up at them. “Mama… Dad? You both called me? All good?”
Kamran’s eyes fell on the packed bag. “Asad… yeh kya zid hai?”
Asad glanced at his father. “Kya matlab, Dad?”
Kamran sighed. “Beta, if you want to serve the nation, bohot raste hain. All I have to do is make one call I can have you made a captain right here, and you can manage everything from the office. Beta, kya zaroorat hai is sab ki? Ek army chief… ya ek normal soldier life ki?”
Asad listened calmly, his dark eyes steady and unreadable.
Aliyah spoke softly, “Your dad is absolutely right.”
“You mean… Dad ki sifarash?” Asad asked quietly. “Is that really necessary? I mean…”
Kamran shook his head. “Beta, aisa nahi hai ke you’re not capable. You are the best in your department.”
“Dad… please,” Asad said, his voice low but firm. “I don’t want to hear that I got this post because of you. Waisay bhi, I have other reasons of doing this
“Other reasons?” Kamran asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I’ll be fine,” Asad replied.
Kamran looked at Aliyah, frustration written all over his face. “Dekho, apni aulaad… baap ki koi izzat he nahi hai?” he stormed out his room in anger
Asad let out a slow sigh. “Dad… it’s not like that.”
Aliyah placed her hands gently on Asad’s face. “Beta… kya hogaya? Kab tak apna aap ko saza doo gaye?”
He looked into his mother’s eyes, fighting the emotions threatening to break through. His eyes were wet, but he never let them show. “Main theek hoon, Mom,” he said, his voice barely holding together. “Mujhe yeh karna hai.”
Aliyah paused, studying him, then sighed. “Kidhar ki posting hai?”
“Munabao Khokhrapar border,” he said softly, knowing it would frustrate her.
“What? You’re insane! Itna door? Border ka shauq tha, Wagha border leta!” she exclaimed.
He smiled faintly. “So, that aap Lahore ajaa ti and you would try to convince me to come back home not happening And anyways, wahan zaroorat bhi thi armed officers ki.”
He zipped up his army bag and turned toward the door. “Chalo, mein chalta hoon mom. I have a flight to catch.”
Aliyah didn’t say a word, her tears threatening to spill. She pulled him into a tight hug. He hugged her back just as firmly, feeling her warmth and worry.
“Beta… tumhara dad will be so upset.
Aap sambhal loo gaye?” Asad whispered.
“I trust you he said quietly, holding her tighter.
She pulled back slightly. “Siam ko milke jaana… he’s upset with you.”
Asad chuckled softly. “I will, Mom.”
He stood there for a moment, tall and commanding in his crisp army uniform, calm and composed as always, yet carrying the weight of decisions only he could make. The quiet strength in his demeanor spoke louder than words ever could.
Jaisalmer
The flight landed, and Shanaya Oberoi stepped out of the airport with effortless style, as always. Media photographers were already waiting outside, cameras flashing, eager to capture her every move. She posed gracefully for them, each click of the camera matching her confident stride.
Before slipping into the waiting car, she glanced at her phone. A “delivered” message to Rahul but no reply yet. She let out a soft, exasperated sigh and turned to Kiran.
“I don’t know where the hell Rahul is,” she muttered, frustration lacing her tone. “The media is probably already speculating why I came alone… aur Rahul Kuch nahi Samaj ta God he's not even answering kya karoon mein ab
Kiran nodded knowingly. “Actually, you’re right. Rahul ko already idhar hona chayie tha But anyway… don’t let it ruin your mood. You have a shoot coming up, Shanaya.”
Shanaya nodded reluctantly, pressing her forehead against the car window, staring at the passing streets with quiet frustration.
Kiran turned to the driver. “Chalo, hotel jaldi.”
Shanaya leaned back in her seat, letting out another frustrated sigh, already anticipating the whirlwind of work and the absent Rahul waiting for her in Jaisalmer.
Meanwhile back in Pakistan
Asad walked into the room without knocking.
“Haan Junior, kaisa haa?” he asked casually.
Siam gave him a confused look, lying on the bed dramatically.
“Kyun mood kharab? Kya hogaya?”
Asad sat down next to him. Match har gaya Pakistan phir se ?
Siam’s lip trembled, and tears threatened to spill. Haan Bhai… still… aur…”
Asad chuckled softly. “So why are you upset? Tum match dekhte he kiyun ho merit pe, jab humari team he select nahi horahi… so would we progress without a merit based team hmm?
Siam looked at him, and suddenly, the floodgates opened. He started crying. “Bhai… aap kiyun jaa rahe ho? Abhi toh aye the London se…”
Asad wrapped him in a firm hug. “Oye… kya hogaya hai tujhe?” itna dukh team ke harne kaa i had no idea He joked
“Bhai stop joking, why are you going? I’ll miss you,” Siam sobbed.
Asad gently consoled him. “Dekho… kuch kaam karna zaroori hota hai.”
“But… why do you have to go on the border and stuff? Yahan pe when you can get a post in higher position…” Siam protested.
Asad stopped him right there. “Dekho Saim… you need to earn everything. Nothing which is handed to you… uski value nahi hoti.”
He got up, his eyes steady, voice calm yet resolute. “Aur… I don’t know… har cheez ka reason hota hai. Upar waale ne meri kismat pe likha hai wahan jana… Kuch toh reason hogaa toh I should.”
He grabbed his bag. “Ab tum bade hojaoo… Mom, Dad ka khayal rakhna, ok?” He smiled faintly. “Aur you score good in exams.”
Siam nodded through his tears, still holding back hiccups.
Asad kissed his forehead. “Allah Hafiz.”
He turned to leave the room, his heart restless, pumping heavily in his chest. Yet, his mind was sharp, focused on the mission ahead. One last glance at Siam, and he stepped out of the room leaving his house going toward the airport, carrying the weight of both duty and love for his little brother.
Shanaya was sitting in her hotel room. I almost night, but still no news from Rahul. She had been calling him back and forth. Where the fuck are you? she thought, frustration bubbling over.
Finally, she threw her phone onto the floor.
Kiran raised his hands. “Chill bro… kya hogaya hai Shanaya? Aur tumhara hero abhi yeh sab kar raha… ignoring you and stuff. Abhi shaadi nahi hui.”
Shanaya looked at him, irritation flashing in her eyes. “Please, Kiran… not in the mood for all of this.”
Kiran sighed. “ACHA, calm down. Let's do something spa ke liye chalta hai… babe, you need to relax.”
Shanaya nodded, her gaze drifting toward the window as she stared at the city lights outside. Thoughts swirled in her mind questions she hadn’t wanted to face until now. Am I doing the right thing by marrying Rahul? Mein galti toh nahi kar Rahi?
Shaking off her worries, she started getting ready for the spa treatment, trying to push the frustration aside, even though her heart and mind refused to let her fully relax.
Rahul was sitting in a club, drunk and high, surrounded by girls. A joint passed lazily between fingers, one girl perched on his lap.
“Babe, Shanaya called you again and again. your phone was on charging… must be important,” she said, leaning closer.
Rahul groaned. “Yaar… kya chahti hai yeh?”
He grabbed his phone and scanned the texts about the flight. His eyes widened. Shit. He jumped up, quickly buttoning his shirt. “Mujhe jana hai… jaldi.”
Within minutes, he was out the door, sliding into his car, calling Shanaya as he sped through the streets.
Shanaya, still at the spa, picked up her phone.
“Rahul?”
“Baby, I’m really sorry, baby. Mera phone ghar pe reh gaya tha… I was in an important meeting. Mein abhi aa raha hoon, just heading to the boarding gate,” Rahul panted, voice rushed.
Shanaya let out a frustrated sigh. “Tumhe pata hai na… I hate when you don’t pick my calls. Phir bhi… why do you do this?”
Kiran, sitting beside her, glanced at her phone. “Rahul…”
“I’m sorry, baby. I promise I’ll make it up to you,” Rahul continued, driving fast.“Baby, I love you okay? I’ll make it up to you. I’m about to board.” he lied
Shanaya’s voice was half-hearted. “I love you too…” She set the phone down, still fuming.
Rahul thought he needed to get to the airport somehow asap
Kiran looked at her in shock. “I love you too… seriously?”
Shanaya exhaled sharply. “Please, Kiran… abhi NAHI. Not in the mood.”
Kiran shook her head in disbelief, muttering under his breath.
Shanaya thought to herself, Meeting isney pehla toh nahi bola… yeh jhoot toh nahi bol Raha ?
Meanwhile, Asad had landed in Karachi and was making his way to the Khokhrapar-Munabao border in an army truck. He sat among other soldiers, his mind focused yet quiet, when his phone rang. Seeing it was his dad, he picked it up.
“Assalamualaikum, Dad,” he said.
“Walekum salam, beta,” Kamran replied, his voice calm but heavy with concern.
A silence fell over the call.
“I’m sorry, Dad,” Asad finally said. “Main jaanta hoon… I’m going against your wishes, but I need to do this.”
Kamran sighed deeply. “Jaanta hoon… mera khoon hoon. I know you’re ziddi, lekin tum ek baap nahi ho na, beta. Aulaad kitni bhi badi hoti, maa-baap ko dar lagta hai. Anyways… take care of yourself.”
Asad swallowed, fighting the lump in his throat. “I’ll miss you, Dad.”
“I miss you too,” Kamran said quietly. “Shayad is sab ke baad, tum apne aap maaf kar do. Tumne ghunna nahi kiya… ek mistake thi. Ab bhool jao usse.”
Asad cut him off immediately, not wanting to indulge more in the topic. “Kuch aur kehna hai, Dad? I have low battery.”
Kamran sighed. “Nahi… sources hain ke tensions ho sakti hain border pe. Be careful.”
Yes sir “Brigadier General,!” Asad replied sharply.
“Good officer, Zorawar. Allah Hafiz.”
“Allah Hafiz,” Asad said.
The call disconnected. A few seconds of silence followed. Kamran pressed his hands to his face and began to cry, letting the worry and fear flow freely. Asad, sitting in the truck, looked out the window, controlling his own tears. He had always been good at shutting down his emotions.
“Kitna reh gaya?” he asked one of the soldiers.
“Sir, 10 minute aur bas,” the soldier replied.
Asad nodded silently, eyes fixed on the horizon
Shanaya walked back into her hotel room with Kiran trailing behind. She immediately called Rahul,At first, there was silence. She let out a frustrated sigh and called again and again
“Kidhar hoo tum, Rahul?” she demanded when he finally answered.
“Weather kharab hogaya hai baby Mumbai… I can’t get a flight. Subha tak I’ll be-”
She cut him off sharply. “You know what position you’ve put me in? Aaj shoot hona tha… screw you, Rahul!”
She slammed the phone down on the floor, the sound echoing against the walls.
Rahul sighed at the airport. “Waiting… is ka ghatiya attitude jhelna parta hai,” he said out loud to himself. He looked at his phone and went again to the ticket office to get updates.
Kiran looked at her, concerned. “Shanaya… relax yaar. Kya hogaya?”
She didn’t respond. Whenever her mood took a turn like this, she loved to get ready transforming herself into the best version of herself felt like reclaiming control.
She moved methodically, almost mechanically, putting herself together. She dressed in a sleek camel-toned outfit: a fitted collared button-up top with chest pockets and matching high-waisted trousers, a polished silhouette that emphasized her confidence. A slim black belt defined her waist, contrasting subtly with the soft neutral tone. Her black handbag, delicate diamond earrings, and elegant watch completed the ensemble. She looked at Kiran.
“Chalo?”
Kiran looked at her, confused. “Kidhar?”
Shanaya replied, “Anywhere… bas chaloo.”
Kiran, slouched on the bed, looked exhausted. Raat ke 10 baj rahe hain, bro.”
Shanaya’s eyes sparkled with defiance. “I don’t know… I don’t want to stay in the hotel. Chalo abhi.”
Kiran groaned. “Yaar, I’m very tired. Please… kal subah.”
Tum bhi so jao, babe. You need rest. You’re tired, isliye you’re acting this way.”
Shanaya didn’t wait for an argument. Storming out of the room, Kiran kept calling her name but she didn't hear
she left her phone lying on the floor, still discarded in frustration. At the reception, she demanded the driver bring her car immediately. When the car arrived, the driver opened the back seat door for her.
“I want to drive,” she said firmly.
He hesitated, but she glared at him with that sharp, unyielding attitude of hers. “No. I’m driving.”
He gave in. She slid into the driver’s seat, slammed the door, and started the engine. The tires screeched as she tore out of the hotel, letting the city lights blur around her. She drove fast, weaving through traffic, taking the outskirts roads, channeling all her anger especially toward Rahul. Late shoot… he’s late… and it’s all my responsibility now.
Her foot pressed harder on the pedal, adrenaline and frustration mixing into a dangerous cocktail. The city fell behind her, giving way to empty roads and desert stretches.
And then suddenly a camel appeared in the middle of the road, startled and blocking her path.
Shanaya screamed, jerking the steering wheel instinctively. The car skidded violently, tires digging into loose sand at the edge of the road. Control slipped through her fingers as the vehicle swerved uncontrollably, bouncing over uneven terrain.
With a jolt, the car hit a rock hidden beneath the sand. The impact rocked the frame violently. Sand sprayed around, grinding against the undercarriage, and the car finally came to a stop, wheels spinning helplessly in the desert dunes.
Shanaya’s heart pounded in her chest. Dust and sand coated the windshield, the engine coughing and dying down. She gripped the steering wheel tightly, staring at the endless desert around her, breathing heavily, her anger replaced by a cold jolt of panic.
The night was silent now, broken only by the faint rustle of sand and the distant desert wind. The car was stuck, trapped, and there was no one around for miles.
Asad walked into the house a small, old one-bedroom place. Most of the houses around were the same: mud structures with low walls, earthy colors, and narrow lanes running between them. Inside there was one small bedroom, a bathroom, a tiny kitchen, and a small hall. Every soldier had been allotted a similar house.
He placed his bag on the floor and stepped outside to look around.
A few soldiers were standing nearby discussing the conditions of the houses.
“Yaar, pichle batch jo tha… they were my friends. I don't know why we are here. Unke ghar dusri side pe the, they were actually luxurious. I don't know hum kidhar phas gaye,” Ali complained.
“Sahi bol raha hai tu,” Farhan agreed.
Asad stood silently watching them.
Farhan suddenly noticed him. “Sir—”
“Nahi nahi… continue,” Asad said calmly, his hands clasped behind his back.
The men went quiet anyway.
Asad walked closer.
“Farhan,” he said firmly, looking straight into his eyes. “When you joined the Pakistan Army, was it because of resources… or to serve your nation?”
Farhan straightened nervously. “To serve my nation, sir.”
Asad raised his voice slightly.
“What about the rest of you?”
“To serve our nation, sir!” the soldiers replied together.
Asad nodded slowly.
“Good. Because if any of you joined this uniform for comfort… you are in the wrong place.”
The soldiers listened carefully.
“These houses were not given randomly,” Asad continued.
“I personally requested that our units be placed within the local residential areas.”
He pointed toward the surrounding mud houses.
“Why? Because these people are the ones living closest to the border. When tensions rise, they suffer first. If we want to protect them, we must live among them, understand them, and earn their trust.”
He paused, scanning their faces.
“Pakistan Army provides the best facilities to its officers and soldiers. But this is not a luxury posting. Yeh border hai
His voice became firmer.
“Yahan duty hoti hai… break nahi.”
“Yahan aram nahi hota.”
“Yahan zimmedari hoti hai.”
He gestured toward the local houses again.
“Un mein aur hum mein koi farq nahi hai. Na class ka. Na status ka.
The soldiers stood silently.
“If you want comfort, air-conditioned and luxury quarters… you are free to leave my unit.”
No one moved.
Asad continued.
“But if you stay here, remember this: we are here to protect this land and these people.”
“Samjhe?”
“Yes sir!” everyone replied firmly.
Asad nodded.
“Good.”
He checked his watch.
“4 AM sharp. I want everyone at the base. Training begins tomorrow.”
Koi late nahi hogaa
“You may leave.”
“Yes sir!” the soldiers said before dispersing.
One soldier walked toward him and saluted.
“Sir, I'm your personally appointed batman. Zafar Khan.”
Asad nodded slightly.
In the army, a batman was a soldier assigned as a personal assistant to an officer. Despite the unusual name, it had nothing to do with the comic character. The term came from old military tradition, where the soldier responsible for managing an officer’s equipment, uniform, and basic needs was called a batman—essentially someone who ensured the officer could focus entirely on command and duty.
“Very well, Zafar. Nice to meet you,” Asad said.
“Border yahan se kitna door hai?”
“Sir… approximately 30… maybe 23 kilometers,” Zafar answered hesitantly.
Asad looked at him seriously.
“Exact distance?”
Zafar froze.
Asad sighed lightly.
“Basic information, Zafar. Brush up your skills.”
“Yes sir.”
“You may leave.”
Zafar saluted and walked away.
Asad stood there for a moment, looking at the mud houses, the narrow dusty lanes, and the quiet desert settlement.
Then he turned and walked back into his small house.
Kiran called Shanaya to check where she had been it had been hours. Suddenly, she heard the phone ringing from inside the room. Confused, she walked in and found it lying on the floor.
She picked it up, her brows furrowing in worry. It had already been two hours, and Shanaya still hadn’t returned.
Feeling uneasy, Kiran quickly texted Shanaya’s assistant and then headed down to the reception, hoping to get some information.
Shanaya after gaining consciousness slowly got out of the car, groaning as she grabbed her head.
“Fuck… Shanaya, yeh kya kar diya…” she muttered to herself.
She looked around nervously. The desert highway was empty, dark, and eerily silent. The wind moved softly across the sand, making the loneliness of the place even more unsettling.
She quickly searched inside the car for her phone, checking the seats and the floor.
Nothing.
Then she remembered.
“The phone… hotel mein reh gaya,” she sighed in frustration.
Now the fear started creeping in. She stood on the empty road, completely alone in the middle of nowhere, with no idea what to do.
Just then, she saw headlights far away in the distance.
Her heart jumped.
As the light grew closer, she stepped onto the road, waving her arms desperately, signaling for help.
An old desert jeep approached slowly and stopped near her. Two men sat inside. They exchanged a quick glance before looking at her.
One of them stepped out.
“Madam, kya hua?” he asked.
“Meri gaadi ka accident ho gaya… it's right over there,” Shanaya said, pointing toward the car stuck in the sand.
“Madam, chaley aap udhar. Hum aate hain,” he said, handing her a flashlight.
She nodded and began walking back toward her car.
The second man got out of the jeep and whispered to the other one.
“Yeh kya kar raha hai? Pagal ho gaya hai?”
The first man smirked.
“Dekh toh… kya mast maal hai.”
Both of them slowly followed her from behind, their eyes roaming shamelessly over her figure.
“Lekin karna kya hai iska saath? Pagal hai tu?” the second one asked.
The other replied quietly,
“Paise waali lagti hai. Loot lenge… aur maza bhi karenge. Phenk denge ise registan mein aur nikal jayenge.”
The second man hesitated.
“Dekh le bhai… yeh maal humare paas hai. Isko smuggle bhi karna hai wahan Pakistan wali side pe.”
“Hojayega,” the first one said confidently.
Shanaya stopped near the car and turned toward them.
“Yeh hai,” she said, pointing at the vehicle.
For a brief moment, something felt off.
The men looked rough and out of place. Their clothes were dusty and wrinkled—faded shirts half unbuttoned, loose desert trousers, worn-out sandals covered in sand. One of them had an old scarf wrapped around his neck, the other a crooked cap pulled low over his eyes.
Their movements were slow, careless, and their eyes lingered too long on her.
She noticed the way one of them glanced at her diamond earrings and the delicate chain around her neck, his eyes briefly lighting up with greed.
Their body language felt wrong… predatory.
A strange uneasiness settled in her chest.
But she had no other option.
The man bent down and examined the car briefly.
“Madam, yeh toh ab nahi chalegi,” he said, straightening up.
“Ek kaam karo, madam ji. Chalo… hum chhod dete hain aapko wapas jahan jaana hai.”
Shanaya looked at both of them carefully for a moment.
Her instincts were uneasy.
But the dark desert road behind her reminded her she had no real choice.
She forced a small nod.
“Okay.”
Inside her head she grimaced.
Shanaya… they smell so bad. Ew.
She climbed into the backseat of the jeep while the man got into the driver’s seat.
The engine roared to life.
The jeep slowly pulled away from the accident site and disappeared into the dark desert road.
Asad sat on his bed wearing only his army pants. The electricity had gone out again load shedding was common in the area so the small house was dimly lit by a single candle placed on the table.
In the quiet of the night, he was writing in his journal.
At the end of every day, he always wrote. It was the only place where he allowed himself to be honest. Asad never shared his feelings with anyone not his parents, not his brother, not even his closest friends. Every secret, every regret, every memory lived inside those journals.
He wrote with intense focus, the pen moving steadily across the page.
But suddenly, a strange feeling settled in his chest.
A restlessness.
His hand stopped mid-sentence.
His heart began to pound, an uneasy sensation spreading through him as if something was wrong something he couldn’t see, couldn’t explain.
Asad frowned slightly.
“What the hell…” he murmured.
He closed the journal slowly and stood up. The air inside the small house suddenly felt heavy.
He walked to the main door and opened it, letting the cool desert air flow inside.
But the uneasy feeling didn’t leave.
Instead, it grew stronger.
Asad stood there for a moment, staring into the dark lanes outside the house. The quiet village looked peaceful. Nothing seemed wrong.
Still, his instincts refused to calm down.
His jaw tightened.
Kya ho raha hai yeh…
He looked toward the army jeep parked nearby.
Without wasting another second, he walked back inside, pulled on his army shirt, and grabbed his weapon. His movements were quick and controlled, like someone responding to an invisible alarm.
Within seconds he was outside again.
He climbed into the jeep and started the engine.
As he drove toward the border road, his thoughts kept racing.
What is wrong with me?
Kya ho raha hai yeh, Asad?
Border pe sab theek hai…
Then why do I feel like I should be there?
The jeep sped through the dark desert road as he continued driving alone toward the border.
Meanwhile…
Shanaya sat in the back seat of the old jeep, trying to calm her racing thoughts.
Kahan phas gayi hoon…
As the jeep bounced over the uneven road, her eyes drifted down toward the floor near her feet.
Her stomach tightened.
There were multiple large bottles of alcohol stacked near the seats, some wrapped in cloth sacks, others packed inside wooden crates. The bottles clinked together every time the jeep hit a bump.
They were completely full.
The smell of alcohol filled the inside of the jeep.
Shanaya suddenly remembered the men’s earlier conversation.
“…isko smuggle bhi karna hai wahan Pakistan wali side pe…”
Her instincts screamed.
They’re smugglers.
The driver suddenly took a sharp turn, leaving the main road and driving deeper into the desert.
Shanaya leaned forward instantly.
“Yeh kidhar jaa rahe ho? Humein dusri side pe jana chahiye!”
The driver replied casually, “Madam, yeh shortcut hai. Pareshan na ho.”
But Shanaya’s uneasiness grew stronger.
“Gaadi roko. Abhi roko! Mujhe idhar utarna hai!”
The man sitting in the passenger seat turned toward her, irritation flashing across his face.
“Abey muh band kar! Chup kar warna roegi!”
Shanaya’s anger exploded.
“Who the hell do you think you are?! Tum jaante nahi main kaun hoon! Gaadi roko abhi!”
The driver glanced toward his partner and gave a small signal.
Within seconds the man climbed into the back seat.
“Dekh leta hoon kaun hai tu,” he sneered.
Before Shanaya could react, he grabbed her arms roughly and shoved her back against the seat. His grip was painfully tight as he pinned her down with his weight.
Shanaya screamed in panic.
“Leave me! Get off me!”
She struggled violently, trying to push him away, kicking and twisting her body desperately. Her hands scratched at his arms, her nails digging into his skin, but he only laughed.
The jeep shook slightly as the struggle intensified.
The man leaned closer, his breath heavy and foul, while his hands tried to hold her wrists down.
“Chill madam… itna drama kyun?” he mocked.
“No! Don’t touch me!” Shanaya cried, her voice breaking.
She tried to sit up but he slammed her back against the seat again. Her shoulder hit the metal frame painfully and she gasped in pain.
The fabric of her top tore slightly near the shoulder as she fought to free herself.
Tears streamed down her face as fear took over.
“Please… leave me alone!” she pleaded, still trying to push him away.
The driver looked back from the front seat, annoyed.
“Chup kara ise!”
He reached back and roughly pressed his hand over Shanaya’s mouth, forcing her head down against the seat.
“Chup reh!” he growled.
Shanaya tried to bite his hand, struggling wildly beneath the man pinning her down. Her body trembled as she tried to scream, but the sound came out muffled beneath his palm.
Her chest heaved with panic.
The dark desert stretched endlessly around them.
No lights.
No people.
No help.
Her muffled cries filled the jeep as tears blurred her vision.
Suddenly
The memory snapped.
Shanaya was sitting across from a reporter.
Her breathing was uneven.
Her eyes were wet with tears.
The interviewer leaned forward, worried.
“Ma’am… are you okay? Ma’am?”
Shanaya blinked slowly, trying to return to the present.
The reporter gently asked again,
“Ma’am… 8 July ko kya hua tha?”
Shanaya kept looking at her.
Silent.
Her eyes distant, as if she was still trapped in that night.
For a long moment
she said nothing.
Chapter 1 Ends
Written by BBCHIRYA 🖤
Please give me feedback hopefully you enjoyed it and want more chapters
