Scene 1: The Door Opens
Location: Haroon's Home – 10:00 AM
The streets of the residential block were calm. The late morning sun glimmered softly on the polished police jeep as it pulled up quietly in front of Haroon's modest home. His mind was still swirling with the echo of gunfire from last night, the adrenaline barely settled in his veins. For a moment, he stood still outside the door, taking a deep breath. Finally, home... even if just for a few hours.
Haroon turned the key gently in the lock, but before it could twist fully, the door swung open.
Standing there was Maryam, her soft dupatta draped neatly over her shoulder, her face glowing with the warmth of relief and love. A mischievous sparkle danced in her eyes as she raised her hand in mock salute and said with a bright smile:
Maryam:
"Welcome back, Inspector Sahib!"
Her playful tone broke the heaviness in Haroon's chest. A deep, rare smile curved his lips as he stepped forward and embraced her.
Haroon:
"Not Inspector Sahib for you… just Haroon."
He held her tight for a few moments, feeling the comfort of home soak into his soul. Then he kissed her forehead tenderly.
Haroon (softly):
"I missed you, Maryam."
Maryam chuckled lightly, brushing his shoulder as if to hide her own emotion.
Maryam:
"Bas bas… aaj toh tum hero banke aaye ho. Come in before the neighbors start making headlines out of this drama."
They both laughed quietly as he stepped inside, his boots echoing against the cool marble floor.
---
Scene 2: The Sleeping Angel and the Teasing Sister
The aroma of fresh parathas and chai filled the air. Haroon's eyes instinctively moved toward the small crib in the corner of the lounge. There, little Irfan, barely two years old, lay curled up under a soft blanket, sleeping like a piece of his own heart detached and resting. Haroon walked over, leaned down, and gently brushed a finger across Irfan's tiny hand. The baby stirred slightly but didn't wake.
Haroon (whispering):
"My little soldier… sleeping peacefully while his baba fights the world."
Maryam stood beside him, her eyes tender.
Maryam:
"He was restless last night… kept turning in his sleep. Maybe he missed you."
Before Haroon could respond, a cheerful voice broke the serene moment.
Rimsha:
"Well, well, love birds… I think I'm still in the room, you know!"
Haroon turned with a smile as Rimsha, Maryam's younger sister, emerged from the kitchen holding a tray of steaming cups of chai. Her dupatta was casually tied, and her mischievous grin was in full form.
Haroon (smirking):
"Good to see you, Rimsha. You've been keeping Maryam company?"
Rimsha:
"Company? More like her therapist, cook, and entertainment unit since someone was out playing hero with bullets flying!"
Maryam laughed, handing Haroon a towel.
Maryam:
"Go freshen up. Breakfast is almost ready. And Rimsha, stop scaring him—he's barely stepped inside!"
Rimsha (teasing):
"Oh, come on, Maryam. You know I adore our inspector sahib. Just… keep him alive, okay?"
Haroon smiled faintly, hiding the fatigue in his bones as he walked toward the washroom. Alive… yes, that's the plan, he thought silently.
---
Scene 3: The Breakfast Table
A few minutes later, Haroon returned, his face freshly washed, the sharpness of his features restored. He sat down at the dining table where Maryam was serving hot parathas, and Rimsha placed a bowl of mixed fruit in front of him. The home felt alive with warmth and laughter, something Haroon had been starved of for weeks.
Maryam:
"Eat properly. You've lost weight."
Haroon chuckled as he tore a piece of paratha.
Haroon:
"Or maybe your cooking is what I was missing."
Rimsha (grinning):
"Oh, don't butter her up too much, bhai. She'll start demanding a shopping trip in return!"
Maryam gave Rimsha a playful glare, and the room echoed with laughter. For a brief moment, Haroon felt like an ordinary man, a husband, a father—away from the darkness of crime and bloodshed.
He asked about Ubaid, their elder son.
Haroon:
"Where's my champ?"
Maryam:
"At school. He's been talking about you all week. Wants to know if his baba can come to his sports day."
Haroon's heart sank slightly at the thought of how much he was missing in his children's lives.
Haroon (softly):
"Insha'Allah, I'll be there."
---
Scene 4: The Quiet Nap
After breakfast, Haroon excused himself.
Haroon:
"Just a little sleep… then I'll be fresh for the evening."
Maryam nodded and prepared the bed. Haroon lay down, his body sinking into the mattress like a man who hadn't known rest in months. Maryam sat beside him for a moment, running her fingers gently through his hair.
Maryam (whispering):
"Allah tumhari hifazat kare."
Within minutes, Haroon was asleep, his breathing steady. For those few hours, the horrors of the past days faded, replaced by the serenity of home.
---
Scene 5: Back to Duty
Evening shadows stretched long across the city as Haroon stood once again in the crisp uniform of an inspector. His duty called, and the softness of home had to be locked away in the chambers of his heart.
At 5:00 PM, he kissed Maryam's forehead one last time.
Haroon:
"Take care of yourself… and the kids."
Maryam (smiling faintly):
"Always. And you… come back safe."
He walked out, the weight of responsibility settling back onto his shoulders like a heavy armor.
---
Scene 6: The Interrogation Room
Location: Police Headquarters – Investigation Wing
The room smelled of sweat and stale air. Two men sat handcuffed to a steel table—Qamar Yousifi and Rehan Malik. Their faces were pale, eyes darting with a mix of fear and defiance. Haroon entered, his boots thudding on the concrete floor, and for a moment, the tension in the room thickened like fog.
He stood across from them, his sharp gaze burning holes into their composure.
Haroon (coldly):
"So… the kings of the game are finally sitting where they belong."
Rehan smirked faintly, though his eyes betrayed unease.
Rehan:
"You think you've won? You've only scratched the surface, Inspector."
Haroon leaned forward, his voice a low growl.
Haroon:
"Then start digging for me. Because every second you stay silent… I make sure your empire burns faster."
Qamar tried to keep his calm, but Haroon could see the cracks forming. Behind Haroon, DSP Farooq Khan stepped in, arms folded, his presence adding weight to the interrogation.
Farooq:
"Enough games, gentlemen. You've killed our men. You've flooded our streets with poison. You think you'll walk away?"
The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating. Haroon knew this was only the beginning—the real storm was yet to come.
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