The alarm clock on the nightstand buzzed loudly, breaking the pin drop silence in the quiet room early in the morning. A heavy, masculine, strong palm fell on the alarm clock's head, silencing it with a pat, and the buzzing stopped.
Khan Murtasim Khan, an early riser with a discipline routine that has been his key to success over the last three years, begins his day at 4:00 a.m. with the Fajr prayer, as he does every day.
Leaving his comfy bed, he stood up. Far from the haveli, the sound of Azan can be heard faintly echoing from the distant mosque. Running his long fingers through his hair, he went to the bathroom for waddu.
The cold water on his screen sharpened his senses, waking him up from his sleep and preparing him for the day ahead. After Wudu, he slipped his phone into his pocket and went outside as usual.
He preferred a short walk from Khan Haveli to the mosque, as is his habit. It was only a ten-minute walk, not far at all, and each step counted as a good deed, bringing him closer to Allah. Murtasim noticed the Chowkidar, a middle-aged man, was already up as he walked through the expansively trimmed lawn.
"Salam, Khan ji," the Chowkidar greeted with respect.
"Wa alaikum assalam," Murtasim said with a nod before continuing on his way. The path leading outside Khan Haveli was long, winding through lush fields and small villages-all part of his family's vast estate. Everyone there knew him well and respected him as the Khan Family's sole heir and the person in charge of the Khan Estate.
As he approached the mosque, crisp morning breeze embraced him. The mosque itself was a simple yet exquisitely maintained structure, with whitewashed walls and a small minaret that stood out against the clear sky. A few people were praying he joined them.
After completing his prayer, Murtasim took a few moments to sit quietly in peace, his hands raised in supplication for dua.
"Ya Rabb," he began softly. "Grant me wisdom and strength to fulfil my duties with loyalty, to protect those who depend on me, and to make right decisions that are just. Keep my family and my people under Your protection, and guide me on the right path on siratal mustaqim always."
He paused, savoring the moment, closing his eyes as a wave of peace enveloped his heart. "Ameen," he whispered, pressing his palm over his face and then lowering his hands and feeling a sense of peace wash over him.
After leaving the mosque, he decided to take a walk, enjoying the rustic air of the village. The sun was rising, painting the sky in hues of pink and orange-a breathtaking view that made him smile. A new day had dawned, and it held immense significance for him-it was the day he would receive an award.
He took out his phone and checked emails. Today, he was set to receive the prestigious 'Textile Titan Award' for being recognised as the top textile business executive in the region. It's a big achievement for him.
After a while, in his room. He gets out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, his muscular physique on display as water droplets trail down my skin. He quickly walked towards the closet, while running his hand through his hair, leaving it disheveled.
Murtasim took a tailored suit, a pristine white shirt, and a sleek tie. Then he laid them on the bed before proceeding to put them on. He put on the trousers, then buttoned up the shirt, the fabric stretching taut against his chest. Lastly, he carefully knots the tie, making sure it's perfectly set around his neck.
Before he heads down, he gives himself a final glance in the mirror. He applies a few sprays of his signature cologne, the musky fragrance filling the air. He glances at his Rolex, checking the time before he exits the room, and makes his way downstairs to the dinning.
Murtasim's POV
I walk in the dinning room to see Maa Sahab and Haya.
"As-salamu Alaykum, Ma."
"Walekum Assalam, Aao baitho Murtasim, dekho Haya ne kitna ahtemam kiya h tumhare liye."
I settled into the chair next to Maa Sahab with an air of authority. The maids, with the direction of Haya, have laid out a spread of breakfast before us, from tandoor naan to creamy kheer, and everything in-between. My eyes scan the table, taking in the mouthwatering array of dishes before me.
I had just begun pouring some juice into a glass when Haya interrupted me, offering her assistance. I turned my attention to her, annoyance flickering across my face. I hope she notices it.
Her tone and manner of speaking were always far too familiar for my liking. I am already tolerating her in the office because of Maa Sahab as my personal assistant.
"I can manage, Haya."
Maa Sahab interjected, suggesting that Haya prepare the bread and butter for me.
I shook my head at Ma Sahab's suggestion, a small frown crossing my face. While I appreciated her concern, I didn't need Haya pampering me with simple tasks.
I spoke to Haya directly now, my voice leaving no room for argument. "Forget about the bread and butter. I have a morning meeting to attend. Just make sure to arrive at the office on time."
She blinked, taken aback, but I didn't wait for her to respond. I moved past her, my focus already shifting back to the day ahead.
I was about to stand up, grabbing my phone in my left hand. Haya interrupted, "Murtasim, are you going without breakfast? I've made a lot of dishes for you."
She stepped in front of me, her actions causing a momentary close proximity, a surge of anger coursed through my veins.
Irritatedly, I looked at her, my gaze hardening, my voice sharp as a knife.
"I'm a grown man, Haya. I can decide for myself if I want breakfast or not. And you don't need to make a lot of dishes just for me. It's unnecessary and wasteful."
The last thing I needed right now was her overstepping her boundaries again. Her persistent attempts to get close to me always hit on my nerves. I don't know why she does this every day.
Ignoring her, I bowed my head respectfully before Maa Sahab, accepting her blessing. I could feel her disapproving gaze, then she gently touched the back of my head.
"Maa, today is an important day. Please."
I leave the dining room, but I couldn't help but overhear Haya's complaints to Maa Sahab.
"Maa, dekha apne. First he didn't let me help him with breakfast, and now he's leaving without eating anything. It's like he doesn't appreciate all my efforts at all."
Looking at my phone, I stepped onto the lawn, I signaled to Bhakhtu, my personal driver, to come closer.
Unable to hide the frustration that's now building in me, mostly because of Haya's overstepping behavior.
Groning, I muttered under my breath, "Why does she insist on acting like a wife? It's suffocating."
The thought of Haya becoming my wife sent a disgusted shiver down my spine. "Tauba, Touba, not in this life," I declared silently, stepping into my BMW.
• Say "Ameen," readers:)
After a while, the car stopped in front of the company. I step out of the car, my black suit glistening under the morning sunlight, and I stride towards the entrance of Khan Textile Company. The security guard, bowing slightly, opened the door.
Head held high, I enter the lobby with authority and power. My shoes click against the polished marble floor, announcing my arrival. I can feel the eyes of the employees following me as I make my way towards my office, that I ignored. After I approach the elevator, I press 19 to summon the lift. My office is on the top floor.
My company thrives with its five main departments: Production of Fibers (creating high-quality fibers), Yarns and Fabrics (transforming the fibers into yarns and fabrics), Industrial Textiles (providing specialized solutions for industrial applications), Fashion (designing and producing stylish and trendsetting garments), and Home Furnishings (specialized for home use, such as upholstery and bedding). Each department plays an important role in the company's success.
Stepping into my office, my favorite place. The minimalist yet comfortable décor, my desk neatly organized, for my liking with the essentials laid out. There's a large window, and the view of Karachi through is the most breath-taking.
I walk over to my desk and settle into my chair, the leather of the seat adjusting to my frame. My gaze sweeps over the files and documents waiting for me. It's time to get down to business.
Over the past three years, I've dedicated myself wholeheartedly to the success of Khan Textile Company. I have worked tirelessly, late at night most of the time. I've faced numerous challenges in these while, like overseeing the production process and dealing with the constant demands of the market, but I managed all.
I was in the middle of organizing some documents on my desk when the door to my office swung open and Mustajab strode in with his typical lack of subtly.
I despise such unannounced interruptions. But Mustajab loves intruding in my office all the time. I couldn't help but let out a sigh. It was just Bobby being Bobby.
Bobby entered further into the office, his smile brighter than the sun. He held up a file, waving it around as if it were a flag.
"I asked your personal assistant Haya Ikram to give this to you yesterday," he began, his tone playful.
"Unfortunately, she left it in my office. Are you going to replace her with someone who can actually follow instructions, or have you fallen head over heels for her so much that you can't bring yourself to sack her?"
I turned my gaze back to him. "Bobby, cut it out."
My tone turning slightly sharper, "I wouldn't fall in love with her even if she were the last woman on earth..."
Just as the words left my mouth, the door opened once again, and Haya walked in. Her timing was utterly inconvenient, just like always. It was as if she had a knack for appearing when she wasn't wanted.
Haya presented a mug of black coffee towards me, placing it on the desk.
"Murtasim, here your special black coffee, as you like it."
I looked at the coffee mug, then at Haya's face, which made my irritation rise even more.
"Thank you," I muttered, forcing politeness into my tone but failing, and my words came out a bit colder than I intended, betraying my impatience with her presence.
"It's my duty, Murtasim," she passed a cheeky smile at me.
"Ok. That will be all for now... I have some important matters to discuss with Bobby."
Haya hesitates for a second, as if she wants to stay longer. But then she seems to catch the cue in my sharp tone. She gives a slight nod in understanding, "Of course, Murtasim."
She glances over at Bobby, who's been watching our interaction with a smirk on his face, before leaving the room, closing the door behind her.
I turned my attention back to Mustajab, ignoring his knowing smile.
"Bobby, I want you to hire a new PA immediately. Haya simply isn't working out."
Mustajab's smirk widened further, clearly amused by the situation.
"Oh? And why is that, O' Mighty Murtasim?" he teased, his playful tone earning him an unimpressed glare from me.
I let out a sigh, feeling the beginnings of a headache forming.
"Nothing is hidden from you. She's constantly late, forgets important tasks, and seems more interested in trying to please me all the time than actually being productive. It's becoming a problem. And all these days I tolerated her because of Ma," I explained firmly.
Mustajab chuckled, shaking his head and grinning.
"Oh, come on, Murtasim. Don't tell me you're not secretly enjoying her attention all the time, office+home." He teased, his eyes gleaming with mischief.
I rolled my eyes. "No, Bobby. I need a PA who is reliable and can handle responsibilities, not someone who's not interested in handling office affairs. So stop joking around and find someone who is actually capable of doing the job properly."
Mustajab, with his ever-present smirk on his face, held up his hands in a gesture of surrender.
"Alright, alright, I get it. I'll start the process of finding a new PA as soon as I can. Okay."
"Hmm, ab ap bahar tasreef le jayen," I responded firmly, "I want some peace and quiet to work."
He chuckled softly and gave me a mock salute before getting out of the room.
The hours seemed to blend together as I moved from one business meeting to another. I signed countless documents, answered important calls, and strategized for future ventures, the day passing in a flurry of activity.
It's 3:48 PM, and I am already getting impatient. At 5 PM I have to attend, and I want to be sure everything was in order before I left. So I dialed Haya's number for arranging all the files but after ringing continuously she didn't answer.
I walked out of my office, irritation coursing through my nerves. When I reached her desk, that's outside my office, and found it was empty, and she was nowhere to be seen.
I clenched my teeth in frustration. Where could she have gone? And how can she go without informing me?
The ceremony was only an hour away. This sort of irresponsible behavior was exactly the kind of thing that had been bothering me about Haya lately. That's triggering me to fire her.
"Where did she go? Does anyone know?" I barked at the nearby employee, my tone was harsh, as I have lost all the patience in me.
I made my way back to my office room, reorganizing the files on my desk. Then, I headed towards Mustajab's office on the third floor, taking the elevator. I clutched an important file of finances in my hand, intending to hand it over to him. The elevator dinged as it reached the correct floor, and the doors slid open.
I entered his office room, holding the file. Mustajab looked up from his work and greeted me.
"Murtasim, what brings you here?" he asked, but before I could answer, has noticed the look of irritation on my face.
I gritted my teeth and frustratingly replied. "Don't ask. Haya left earlier without informing me, and now I'm doing her part of work. Anyway, see you at the ceremony."
"See you, Murtasim."
I gave Mustajab a curt nod and left his office, the frustration and irritation bubbling inside me. I made my way back home to the Khan Haveli, my mind still preoccupied with the thought of Haya and her irresponsible behavior.
When I stepped into my room, expecting peace and quiet, but instead, there was Haya, wearing a black saree, standing in front of my closet, going through my clothes.
She looked up at me and smiled, her demeanor far too casual for my liking. My anger was boiling just below the surface, but I tried to keep my tone calm.
"Haya," I said through gritted teeth, "What are you doing in my room?"
Haya looked up at me, surprised by the coldness in my tone. She held up a suit in her hand, as if that justified her presence.
"Murtasim, finally you came. I was just choosing a suit for you," she replied, her smile faltering slightly. "I thought you might need some help getting ready for the award ceremony."
I scowled, my irritation mounting. "I don't need your help, Haya. I am perfectly capable of picking out my own clothes. And care to explain why you left the office early today?"
She smiled confidently and stepped closer to me. "I had a salon appointment," she replied, gesturing to her flawless hair and immaculate makeup. "I'm all ready for the award ceremony."
I raised an eyebrow, studying her appearance. "You're not coming with me."
Haya's eyes widened, and she took a step closer. "I'm your PA, Murtasim. I should attend the award ceremony with you," she persisted.
A dry chuckle escaped my lips as I looked back up at her, my words tinged with sarcasm. "Finally, you remember your duties, huh? Where were you when I needed you in the office today? Calls went unanswered, meetings were rescheduled, and important files were nowhere to be found because my personal assistant decided on a salon visit and also left the office without informing me."
"I... I thought looking presentable for the event was part of my responsibilities."
"Looking presentable doesn't mean neglecting your work. If you can't manage your time properly, maybe this position isn't right for you. And right now I don't have time for argument, please go," I said flatly and stormed to the bathroom to take a bath.
After bath, I got ready in a sleek tuxedo with a white shirt and a polished pair of shoes, then I set my hair and fixed the precise knot of my tie. Once I was satisfied looking at the mirror myself, I headed out the door and into my waiting car.
After sitting in the back of my car, I instructed Bhakhtu to start driving, with the city streets gliding past outside the window. After reaching, I got out of the car and saw the grand ceremony hall was bathed in the warm glow of the chandeliers, filled with crowds, and paparazzi were at the entrance.
After giving a short speech to the reporter, I entered. I was captivated by the stage at the front of the room, adorned with a grand banner that announced the prestigious event: "Excellence in Business Awards 2024."
Navigating through the crowd, I nodded in greeting to a few familiar faces before finally sitting beside Mustajab. After a few brief introductions, the host stepped onto the stage, his voice resonating through the atmosphere.
"Ladies and gentlemen, esteemed guests, welcome to the Excellence in Business Awards," he began, and the chatter in the room died down.
"Tonight, we gather here to celebrate the incredible achievements of individuals who have not only made remarkable strides in their respective industries, but have also set an exemplary standard for excellence and innovation."
He mentioned a short video montage that paid homage to the nominees and their accomplishments.
"And now," the host said with flair, "the moment we've all been waiting for. The award for Top Textile Business Executive, recognising outstanding contribution to the textile industry, goes to Murtasim Khan!"
I stood and walked to the stage, feeling the pride I had waited for all these years. I stepped onto the stage, collected the award, and the crowd cheered with applause.
I stepped up to the microphone and began to speak. "Hello everyone, and thank you for this incredible honour. It's an absolute privilege to be standing here today, accepting this award for Top Textile Business Executive."
After a brief pause, I continued, "This award not only recognizes my achievements but also acknowledges the dedication and hard work of my team, along with the support of the textile industry as a whole. I am truly humbled, and I thank you all for this incredible honour."
I concluded my speech by turning my gaze towards Mustajab. "And a special thanks goes out to my business partner and friend, Mustajab, who has stood by me through thick and thin. Your unwavering support has been an invaluable asset in our journey."
Mustajab smiled and gave me a thumbs up in acknowledgement. The room erupted in applause as the guests showed their appreciation for my heartfelt words.
A literature student with a passion for crafting stories filled with romance, thrilling action, and unexpected twists, all wrapped up in a satisfyingly slow burn.
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