Scene 1: The First Return** *(Location: Al-Rahman Bookbinders – One Week Later)*
The bell above the door jingled as Haroon stepped inside, his polished boots squeaking on the wooden floor. He adjusted his uniform cap, suddenly self-conscious.
Maryam sat behind the counter, her head bent over a ledger. Without looking up, she said, *"Woh rishta nahi hai police station ka idhar."* *The police station isn't related to this place.*
Haroon cleared his throat. *"Main… kitaab dekhne aaya hoon."* *I came to look at books.*
She finally glanced up, one eyebrow arched. *"Sach? Aapko padhna bhi aata hai?"* *Really? You even know how to read?*
Heat crawled up his neck. Behind her, shelves stretched to the ceiling, crammed with volumes in Urdu, English, even a few in Persian. The scent of aged paper and glue filled the air.
*"Haan,"* he lied. *"Mujhe… history pasand hai."* *Yes. I like history.*
Maryam smirked. *"Achha? Kon-si?"* *Oh? Which one?*
Haroon's eyes darted to the nearest shelf. *"Mughal Empire."*
*"Shah Jahan ke baare mein?"* *About Shah Jahan?*
*"Ji."*
She stood, plucked a thick tome, and dropped it in front of him with a thud. *"Yeh lo. 500 rupaye."* *Here. 500 rupees.*
Haroon blinked at the price. His monthly salary was barely 30,000.
Maryam leaned forward, her voice sweetly mocking. *"Kharidoge?"* *Will you buy it?*
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Scene 2: The Weekly Ritual** *(Location: Al-Rahman Bookbinders – Every Thursday for a Month)*
Week after week, Haroon returned.
He never bought the books she taunted him with—*War and Peace* ("It's *Russian*," she said, as if he wouldn't know), a volume of Rumi's poetry ("You'll cry," she warned). Instead, he lingered by the travel section, stealing glances as she worked.
Her father, old Rahman, watched from his stool by the binding press, chuckling into his tea.
One rainy afternoon, Haroon found Maryam re-shelving near the window. The gray light softened her edges.
*"Aapke liye khaas kitaab laayi hoon,"* she said, not turning around. *I brought a special book for you.*
Haroon's pulse jumped. *"Konsi?"* *Which one?*
She spun, holding up a children's primer: *"Alif Bay Pay Seekho."* *Learn the Alphabet.*
Haroon groaned. *"Bas itna hi samajhti ho mujhko?"* *Is that all you think of me?*
Maryam's laughter was sudden, bright. *"Nahi. Aapko *deewaar* samajhti hoon."* *No. I think you're a *wall*.*
*"Deewaar?"*
*"Haan. Jo roz aake khadi ho jaati hai."* *Yes. That comes and stands here every day.*
Haroon touched the spine of the book beside him—*Ghalib's Letters*. *"Agar main kuch khareed loon,"* he said slowly, *"to kya aap mere saath chai peene jayengi?"* *If I buy something, will you have tea with me?*
The air stilled. Even Rahman paused his stitching.
Maryam tilted her head. *"Kitni mehengi chai pilayenge?"* *How expensive a tea will you serve?*
*"Jitni aap chahen."* *Whatever you want.*
She slid *Ghalib's Letters* from the shelf, pressed it into his hands. *"Iske 300 rupaye hain. Aur chai *doodh wali* hogi."* *This is 300 rupees. And the tea better be milky.*
---
**Scene 3: The First Tea** *(Location: Hafeez Tea Stall – Evening)*
Rain pattered on the tin roof as they squeezed onto a wooden bench. Maryam kept her *dupatta* draped over her head, but a curl escaped, clinging to her damp cheek.
Haroon pushed the steaming cup toward her. *"Aapke liye."* *For you.*
She sipped, grimaced. *"Chini kam hai."* *Not enough sugar.*
*"Maine socha aapko—"*
*"Aapko sochna nahi chahiye,"* she interrupted. *You shouldn't think.* Then, softer: *"Lekin shukriya."* *But thank you.*
They sat in silence. The stall's radio crackled with a Lata Mangeshkar song.
*"Kyun aate ho roz?"* Maryam asked suddenly. *Why do you come every day?*
Haroon stared into his tea. *"Aapki awaaz…"* He trailed off. *Your voice…*
*"Kya hua meri awaaz mein?"* *What about my voice?*
*"Woh mere *sir dard* ko thik kar deti hai."* *It fixes my headaches.*
Maryam burst out laughing. *"Sach? Police wale ko *sir dard*?"* *Really? The policeman gets headaches?*
*"Haan. Chor pakadte pakadte."* *Yes. From catching thieves.*
She shook her head, but her smile lingered. *"Aap bahut ajeeb hain."* *You're very strange.*
Haroon grinned. *"Aapko pasand aaya na?"* *You like it, don't you?*
Maryam stood abruptly, her cup clattering. *"Ghar jaana hai."* *I have to go home.*
But at the door, she turned. *"Kal bhi aayenge?"* *Will you come tomorrow too?*
Haroon's chest tightened. *"Haan. Agar aap *Alif Bay Pay* nahi dikhayengi."* *Yes. If you don't show me the alphabet book again.*
Her laughter followed him into the rain.
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End of Chapter 2