seesonlysmoke: (Painting)
Altaaf was slowly but surely growing more confident and not just in the bedroom -- and all the other places he and Ryan had ended up having sex. He was more at ease with his faith than he had been, although that was still sometimes a personal struggle as he dealt with seeing through the brainwashing he had endured as well as living a modern Western life with a very all-American girlfriend and the contradictions that sometimes had with Islam. One thing that had helped was finding an online group of fellow Muslims, many who had grown up in strict, very devout Muslim families but were now settling into the freer, funner, and sometimes confusing world of secularism. Although not exactly his situation -- anyone with his background would be hard to find, inshallah -- Altaaf could relate enough that, along with Ryan's help and support, adjusting to his new life was becoming easier.

There was also not so much hesitancy in going into town, even on his own. He'd become something of a regular at certain places, such as the office supply store and, his weakness, Mickey D's. At least once a week he would take a trip into town. At first, such trips had been with Ryan, but more and more frequently, he was going by himself as his confidence and sense of security that he would not be abused for looking like one of those 'fucking ragheads', although he did take precautions and always dressed in Western clothes, and to those he spoke to, he told them he was Indian and a Hindu. It amazed him at how...ignorant...many were, but found that almost as many were happy to learn and asked a great deal of questions.

It was his day in town, and as usual, he went to McDonalds first for the chicken sandwich, fries, and Coke that he always got. After that, he did something that very few people in California did, and that was take a walk down the main street. He saw little point in driving from one point to the next when it really wasn't that far. This way, he noticed things that he otherwise might not have, such as today. Altaaf had almost reached the office supply store, where he regularly browsed and sometimes bought art supplies, when he saw a new store was opening. Except that it wasn't a store, but an art gallery.

Curious, he went in. Someone was inside setting up, hanging some paintings on the walls, and he just stood inside the doorway, looking on with a small smile.

"Oh, hello! Sorry, but we're not open yet." The man, fit in a a lean way with salt and pepper hair, had just finished hanging the painting and looked over to him.

Altaaf shuffled a little awkwardly. "No, I am sorry. I just couldn't resist a look. Your art is really very good."

"Thanks, but only this one is mine. The others are local artists as well, though." He extended his hand as he came over. "Paul Wardell. Nice to have an appreciative visitor. Let me guess, you'd be from India? The...Punjab?"

Nodding, the Kashmiri shook his hand, surprised at Paul's close guess. "Yes, the Punjab. Although now I live here, not far outside the city. I'm Altaaf. I've always loved art and paint a little myself and do some photography."

"Really? Come in, Altaaf, let me show you around, a little preview before I have my "grand opening"." Paul laughed. "I lived in Gujurat for about a year, long time ago. Beautiful country, India, and a land of great contrasts, some good and some bad." Altaaf had to agree with that, and for the next several minutes the two men chatted about India as they moved from painting to painting. "So, what kind of painting do you do?"

"Oh, a lot of it is of where I grew up. Pictures of home that I have in my head, but I'm also trying to paint the desert here."

As they finished up and walked back to the door, Paul shook his hand again. "Tell you what, Altaaf, next time your in town bring in your portfolio, and I'll have a look through it. Give you some advice, if you want."

"You would do that?" Altaaf was amazed at the offer. He liked to paint and Ryan told him he was good, but to hear some real advice from another artist would really help him to get better. "Thank you...thank you."


It was in the week that followed that Altaaf had his birthday, that Ryan gifted him with his own Harley, and that he...they voiced their love for each other. He hadn't even realized that he had told her at first, the words had just come out, but they were no less genuine for that fact. He did love her, and Ryan was the most important, not to mention beautiful, person in his life. It wasn't that she had saved his life, but that she had opened up a whole new world for him, understood him, cared for him, and he did for her.

Still, that didn't stop him from taking his routine trip into town the next week, by himself on his new Hog. He didn't tell Ryan about the gallery or Paul. If Paul didn't like his paintings and drawings, then he didn't want to feel a complete idiot.

An hour after walking into the gallery, Altaaf emerged with a stunned look on his face. Happy, but completely and utterly stunned. Not only had Paul liked most of his work, but he agreed to hang two in his art gallery, debuting as he put it, the area's newest talent. There had also been some wonderful constructive criticism that Altaaf had taken to heart. In return, Paul had been surprised that his new Indian friend had never had any formal training, and while some of his work was a bit on the raw side, that had an appeal of its own. The two that would be on display, and for sale, were a painting of the shore of Dal Lake back in Kashmir (although Altaaf hadn't mentioned that), near where he had lived as a boy and a drawing of a Joshua Tree that he had seen one day while he and Ryan had been out exploring the area together.

Hardly able to contain his excitement, and disbelief, he managed to ride the bike back to Ryan's. Back at the house, he found her relaxing by the pool, and after taking off his leather jacket, he crouched by her sun lounger. To stop himself from grinning like a loon, he had to bite the inside of his lip, so that hopefully, he would not spoil the surprise too soon. In fact, he tried to act as casually as he could. "Ryan, do you like art galleries? There's a new one in town, and I was given a couple of tickets for their opening tomorrow night." His lips pursed together to try and not smile, but his eyes were shining.
seesonlysmoke: (Painting)
I hope you have a wonderful day! I will make us dinner and look after you today. The word is 'pamper' isn't it?

Also, I didn't know what to get you , so I made you a drawing. *gives her a picture frame wrapped in paper* It's a pencil sketch I did of you and Rocker, when you were resting against him the other day.

(OOC: And mun apologizes for being a day late!)
seesonlysmoke: (Default)
Once, when he was a small child, Altaaf celebrated his real birthday. Then one day the masked police burst into his parent’s home. The terrorists killed, but before his young eyes so were his mother, father and sister, shot down in a cloud of smoke, bullets, and blood. That day in Dalgate, June 23rd, became his new birthday.

It remained so for far too many years as he learned to hone his hate and revenge.

Now that was the past. Now he had his new life, with Ryan, and his birthday was once again the anniversary of his real birth.
seesonlysmoke: (Happy in arms)
The bear is very sweet and cute but I think you would be much nicer to snuggle. And even if the penguin is anonymous, I know it was from again, shukran.

No Answers

Oct. 31st, 2010 03:25 pm
seesonlysmoke: (Serious bzns)
He liked living at the rock house. More to the point, he liked living in the same house as Ryan and doing things with her. Over the past few weeks since he'd healed they had grown steadily closer, and while he might not be very experienced, he wasn't totally innocent or an idiot. They had talked of friendship, and they had, held each other. He couldn't deny, to himself at least, that he had feelings for her, but he wasn't sure what to do about them. His conservative and religious background made him uncertain how to progress without looking foolish, or even if he should. When he managed to dream, as opposed to the regular nightmares, Ryan was now in them instead of Sufi, but that had gone so wrong with her, he was afraid to have the same thing happen with Ryan. There was Ryan herself. Altaaf could sense she was also dealing with something in her past. Had she been let down by someone and was she still waiting for them to return? Did her 'uncle' Alex have something to do with it? If so, was he prepared to get in the way of that?

Read more... )


Oct. 26th, 2010 12:58 pm
seesonlysmoke: (RyAl -- eyes)
Where are we going?
seesonlysmoke: (Ammi's death)
For the past hour Altaaf had been trying to pray. He knelt on his prayer mat in his room at Ryan's rock house, but nothing would come.

This time it wasn't just his own doubts and conflicts with the path he had taken and the lies he had been told in God's name, but a broader picture. While much media had focused on the flooding in Pakistan, he had also seen that heavy rains had also caused similar flooding in Kashmir. And at a time when protests and unrest against the Indian government had sparked violent demonstrations -- protests that Altaaf couldn't but feel a little responsible for having been manipulated by Hilal's lies.

Why was Allah doing this to his people? Was He punishing them for his own mistakes, for the deaths he had caused?

With a heavy sigh and tears in his eyes -- although whether they were for himself or his fellow Kashmiris, not even he was sure-- he stood and rolled up the mat, abandoning his evening prayers for the first time he could remember.

Did Allah not even care?
seesonlysmoke: (questioning)
OOC: This is Altaaf's long, overdue response to this post from Ryan. Apologies that it took so long. x-posted to IJ and [ profile] writers_muses

Just don’t give up I’m workin it out
Please don’t give in, I won’t let you down
It messed me up, need a second to breathe
Just keep coming around
Hey, whataya want from me
Whataya want from me
Whataya want from me

The first few days after Ryan rescued and brought Altaaf safely to the States, he had slept for a great deal as he was kept sedated while his body continued to fight the infection from his wounds. At the times, when he did wake, he was fairly lucid and noticed that Ryan was by his side nearly every time, and if she wasn’t, within just a few minutes she was back next to him, ready with a cool cloth, some food, water or just some comfort.

As his strength returned, he became more active. With his gunshot wounds healing, there was some physical therapy, and he also would join Bane in the gym to build up his own muscles again. Physically, he was recovering quickly, with his youth and being in good condition already and also thanks to the doctor and care Ryan had provided. But he was quiet and withdrawn. He knew that here on Jacks’ property he was safe, liked, and he trusted Ryan as much as she trusted him. Who would have flown all the way to Kashmir on just a phone call, not to mention risk her life to get him out and provide proper medical care? No one else that he knew.

All that he could really remember of his life had been a series of one trauma after another )


Altaaf Khan
Fandom: Mission Kashmir (AU)
Word Count: 2,024
seesonlysmoke: (bloody)
Brining Altaaf up-to-date )

"Ryan? Please, it's Altaaf. I need help." She was the only one he could think of to call any more. In his voice, it was clear he was frightened and hurt. Everyone else was dead or thought of him as dead or a terrorist. It was two days after the fight on the lake. He had managed to swim to safety despite his wounds. The bullet in his side had passed clean through, but he had also been hit in the shoulder, and it needed seeing to, but he couldn't risk going to a doctor. The little bit of news that he had heard, reported that not only had the jihadists been killed, but so had IG Inayat Khan. And Altaaf mourned twice, for his father who he had finally managed to forgive, and for the fact only Khan had known Altaaf was innocent of this plot, and who the news were broadcasting as being behind the plot. Even Sufi was reporting that.

He had found one medic, a nurse, who was willing to at least tend his wounds as best as possible outside of a hospital, and somehow just knew they wouldn't report him even though he would quickly wear out his welcome.

There was only Ryan left to turn to.


seesonlysmoke: (Default)
Altaaf Khan

November 2012

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