Puranay Rastay ✓

chapter ‣ 1

Narrated Abu Huraira: The Prophet (ﷺ) said, "Faith (Belief) consists of more than sixty branches (i.e. parts). And Haya (This term "Haya" covers a large number of concepts which are to be taken together; amongst them are self respect, modesty, bashfulness, and scruple, etc.) is a part of faith." (Sahih al-Bukhari 9)

Khaled was unemployed, much like the other 4.5% of the Pakistani population.

He was also called Kallu because he was tanner than the rest of his family—well just his mother if we're comparing immediate family. And then he was the neighborhood pushover, fetching yogurt for the lady next door, dropping the kid from across the street to his tuition academy, unlocking the doors of the masjid at tahajjud, and then escorting me and Kainat to the bus stand.

He could never say no, which was exactly why Ami rejected him.

"If he can't stand up for himself, how do you expect him to stand up for you?" she had asked, blatantly dismissing Phopo's attempts at making me her daughter-in-law.

My Khadija phopo, may Allah bless her, was the sweetest. None of my friends could believe how a phopo, who are characteristically considered the vilest women in our society because of their possessiveness regarding their brothers and our fathers, could have easily understood the rejection and continued to love us regardless.

The thing with Phopo was that she was just like her only son; too kind hearted to hate anyone, too god fearing to hold a grudge. She was also fiercely loyal, despite having been widowed nearly twenty years ago, she still observed purdah, did not remarry, and honored every single individual who her late husband had kept ties with.

She was also the one who sided with me in matters where Abu disagreed, like attending Sara's engagement. My parents had also been invited to my best friend's engagement party, but Abu was still in Murree where he worked as a professor in a boy's college, and Ami had promised to attend one of our oldest and closest neighbor's Baraat. They had mutually decided to not let me go because the function would stretch late into the night—something that was very common in Sara's family despite her protests—so Phopo had advocated for me, convincing my stubborn parents how I deserved to attend my only best friend's celebration. She had also volunteered to personally pick and drop me to the venue.

Phopo's actions had in a way led me into meeting Aqib, who had seen me at the previously mentioned engagement party, and had claimed to like me right away. Of course he hadn't said that to me directly, he had told his mother, who had told Sara's mother, who had then told my mother. Which was why I was freaking out that wintry afternoon.

"How? Like seriously, how?" I questioned, throwing my hands into the air as Sara and I sat in the courtyard outside Amaltas Block at our university campus.

"By your beautiful eyes," Sara cheekily told, giggling right after. I rolled my eyes at her. My boring brown eyes weren't going to attract anything, forget anyone.