Esha and Isa

Chapter 11

Present Day

I've decided, there are no more good men in the world. If there are any, they're hiding.

I'm going back to Pakistan in a couple of weeks so I really don't see any point in having any more meetings. Besides, the others I've had have been enough for me!

Any guy who seemed decent either had one strange flaw or another or I was rejected by him. I sometimes wonder if my standards are too high but when I think about what I want, all it entails is a man who is practising and will let me visit Pakistan often. Ideally, I want someone who will move to Pakistan with us, but I doubt I'll find someone like that. So I think it would be better to marry in Pakistan.

"Okay, I won't arrange any other meetings after Saturday," Ummi replied when I voiced my thoughts to her.

Now it was Thursday and I was again preparing for another meeting. Again this man was coming on his own. There were a few who came with their families. There were also a few families who came without the guy. Some of the families were a little odd too, to me anyway.

This man's name was Mustafa. As a kid, I associated the name Mustafa with Mufasa from The Lion King and till this day, the name reminds me of Mufasa. A strong lion with a soft side, especially for his wife and son. I hope this Mustafa is something like Mufasa though I do regard my thoughts as absurd.

We're playing a game of Ludo when the bell rings. We cooked so much for the first few potentials who turned out to be incompatible early on that we decided that from now on, we'll just fry some samosas and make some tea for all other potentials. I had two second meetings in which we made meals but they didn't work out either. I didn't show my face for either of them, and I'm glad.

"It's Mustafa," Eliza says snapping me out of my thoughts as she looks down at her phone. Imran must have texted the confirmation.

"Okay," I reply, getting back to the game. I help Isa with his turn, helping him beat both myself and Eliza.

"Who's that?" Isa asks.

"Another one of uncle Imran's friends," I say, absentmindedly.

"He has a lot of friends!" Isa says. Unable to explain why there were so many men coming to our house these days, we told Isa they were all Imran's friends.

As we did all the other times, we wait a little while before we send Isa to meet this Mustafa.

"Come on girls! Start roasting the marinated chicken and defrost the samoses to fry them," Ummi instructs Eliza and I.

"Yes, Ummi," We say before forcing ourselves up.

It's during the end of our preparations that Isa comes back to the kitchen.

"Uncle Imran said to bring the food but his friend said no, there's no need to go through the trouble," Isa explains and I grin while pinching his cheek.

"How is uncle Imran's friend?" I ask and Isa smiles.

"He's okay," Isa says, shrugging.

This is already heading towards a no.

Where are the good men? Ya, Allah, please bring a good person for me to marry soon! This is taking too long.

"Sabrun jameelun," I say to myself, taking a deep breath.

"Huh?" Isa asks.

"It means beautiful patience. I need patience," I say and Isa looks at me confused before skipping back towards the front room.

"Hey, he didn't say anything bad," Eliza assures me.

"Isa likes people quickly. He didn't like this guy quick enough so sorry for being a sceptic," I say and Eliza rolls her eyes.