استاد| Professor

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Stuffing the last bite of his scrambled egg, Dilawar durrani sipped on his hot tea out of that big mug his mother prepared for him, sitting at the head of the dining table, his father was looking at him digging his eyes on the tablet in his hand, not minding himself sitting infront of his elders, working and reading God knows what! Ajkal ke bache-- thought ajmal while shaking his head.

Dilawar durrani was a 35 years old man, he was the epitome of dominance and grey's. His life was way different then what it used to be in his childhood, he was a man, so handsome and pure, so big and muscular, making people take a second look at him while passing by him.

From having the height of his father, he was 6'3 tall with board shoulder and narrowed waist, his chest muscular and his back strong, screaming the hours and hours he spent inside the gym, the thighs so ride worthy and face so drool worthy, he was the eldest of his parents. Dilawar's life had changed after that one event, where he not only lost the people for which he blames himself till now.

Dilawar was 29 years old when he introduced his marina to his parents, who were way too happy for him to settle down.

Dilawar had loved his wife dearly, that supported and comforted him in his hard time, had given him precious time. He still does. He was thankful that atleast, that women had given him something other than pain. She was the women who stood-even for lesser time but she stood with him through his darkest times.

Dilawar could feel the way his father was eyeing him and the way the voice of utensil cluttering was increasing bit by bit. His parents wanted to talk to him. Ajmal slightly cleared his throat that made dilawar looked up at his father, with his eyes void of sympathy and emotions. His hooded eyes that he inherited from his mother stared back at the dark eyes of his father who broke the eye contact and swatted his hand on dilawar's shoulder, making him hiss.

"Yar baba? Ye kya tareeka hai!" Spoke dilawar in his voice filled with irritation as he rubbed the place his father slapped him. Ajmal dramatically rolled his eyes and kept the Dawn news paper down. "Jee, ye hi tareeka hai ap jese khotty se bat karne ka, kal tumhari ammi ko call ai thi, bataya usne ke kal ap date par nahi pohche the or wo larki be izzat hokar wahan se gai hai"

[Baba? What's this behaviour?]

[Yes, this is the only way to talk to you! Your mother got a call yesterday, saying you didn't reach to the date! That girl was embarrassed]

Dilawar sighed and shooked his head, not believing he received a beating at the age of 35. "Kyunk maine apko kaha tha, I am not interested in marrying again baba. And ap mama ko samjhane k bajae k ye meri shadi ki umar nahi hai, ap utla unhen hi sheh de rahe hain?" Dilawar asked, his voice still laced with irritation.

[Because I told you, I am not interested in marrying again baba, and instead of making ammi understand that its not my age to marry now, you are siding with her?]

"arey kese umar nahi hai? Abhi to mai dusri shadi kar sakta hun, larkion ki line hai mere---" spoke ajmal, bragging to his son, how girls would get down on their knees to marry---a 50 years old something ajmal but was cutt off, when his wife, safa ajmal durrani threw the cloth she was using to clean the countertop at him, shutting him off instantly.

[How is it not your age? Even I can marry second time with a line of girl ready for me---]

Safa walked towards her son, with her both hands on her waist, her body wearing light coloured cotton kameez shalwar with dupatta hanging losely around her head, she looked at her son who stared back at her and sat down on the seat opposite to him. "Dilawar, as much as I would like to disagree, your father is right! You are just thirty four, larkian apko dekhte hi han kardengi. Or apke andar kami hi kya hai? MashaAllah itne sohne dikhte ho, itna sohna bolte ho! Apne ap ko aik or chance to do beta!"

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