Farmeed Oneshots

12. Ruksati

The room smells of roses, a smell that signifies a lot for the couple who have tied the knot and are celebrating a new stage in life - marriage. The red flowers lay on the side tables, in the shape of bouquets. The dim lighting sets the mood, as the linen sheets embroidered with golden silk rest neatly against the king master-bed.

There was the comfortable white noise coming from the AC, and the room was as cold as it was hot outside. The dim lamps set the tone and the colour theme for red and gold was continued.

After an event from the day before which was filled with music, dancing and colours, today was much calmer in comparison. However, the nerves were high for the stars of the season, the two individuals who attract one another like magnets. The broad, serious and dashing man who is all about business and rationality weds the short, energetic and confident girl who wants to live life to the fullest. The shades of grey meet the rainbow, and they come together to head a life full of colourful explosions.

Farjaad has gone downstairs to instruct his mulaazim to have a night off, his heart pulsating despite him looking calm as ever. He released a breath he didn't know he held, and watched the last person leave the house, and proceeded to close the door and lock it twice. His shoulders descended back into his arms after he heard the second click, and he brushed his palms against his shirwani. It was a new beginning, a new chapter. Even though they had - despite their family's lack of knowledge - been seeing one another on a daily basis, this was special.

Tonight was special. And he was trying to collect himself before entering their room to greet his bride and take in the fact that it's really happened.Something he had been waiting for so long had finally happened.

Upstairs, the door opens and Umeed walks out of the bathroom, her hair opened and her hand closed, filled with bobby-pins that could set ten people's hair. She no longer felt that her hair had been detached from her head, and could hear her roots thanking her for letting them loose. With a long sigh of relief, she looked around the room. This was the same room she would enter and dream of eventually calling it hers, and from today, it was exactly that. Her hand touched the roses placed on the side-table, and she brought it back up. Every time, the smell would send her in a dream state.

This smell had a lot of history. From the first time he stopped her in the street to hand her a bouquet of this same flower, to getting them almost on a weekly basis from him. She expected such treatment on days like valentines day, or her birthday - but his treatment was beyond that. Every time she would sneak out with him either in the middle of the nights or early in the mornings, he'd greet her with a rose. So this flower played a massive role in their journey.

She glanced around the room. It had an essence of her, but could use some changes. The furniture was placed too symmetrically, and it was very minimal, it was all very robotic. It was easy to guess it was Farjaad's room, but she'd make it her goal to alter it into being their room.

For now, the most important thing missing was Farjaad himself. He brought her upstairs and told her to wait, which was around ten minutes ago. Now she was beginning to wonder whether he decided to switch the stereotypical roles for the story, and be the groom to run away on the night of the wedding with his secret lover. But Umeed knew Farjaad better than that. He wouldn't dare, she threatened him in her own head.

Outside of their bedroom, Farjaad inhales sharply and recollects himself. He's been seeing her every day, today is no different, except it is. It was a mission in itself to keep himself composed today when his wife was sitting besides him, and he hated that he had to talk to everyone but her. He had previously emphasised on keeping the events minimal, but it was Umeed's dream to make it special, and he could not interfere.

Even yesterday, he felt like he had barely gotten to see her, and had to say goodbye without properly appreciating her beauty. Unlike times during Sameer and Haya's events where they could sneak around and remain unnoticed despite walking out with smudged lipstick and stained lips, the risk of doing that was too high this time - since they were the centre of attention. All-in-all, Farjaad was relieved that it was over, but still overwhelmed that what he had been waiting for, had finally happened.