Mending Broken Hearts

37. Qabool Hai

"Omar, beta. Thank you for including us in your wedding," he gestured with a shaky hand for me to sit next to him. "Mujhe bohat khushi hai ke tum Nikah ke waqt hamaray saath ho gai. Aisay mokay phir nahi ayein ge. Kaash Madiha bhi hoti, leikan meri dua hai ke tum dono ko bohat saari kushiyaan milein."

(I am very happy that you will be with us at the time of Nikah. These moments will not come again. I wish Madiha was here too, but I am pray that the two of you get a lot of happiness)

I held back from mentioning it, but he seemed like a changed man after the near-death experience. He had never reached out to me in a fatherly manner, always being the 'boss' at home and treating Sehr and me like employees. He had certainly never invited me to sit with him unless it was to express disappointment.

Ami came over, "I just spoke to Madiha's mother. Bechari, was so worried the Nikah dress wouldn't be altered in time, but shukr hai the tailor came through at the last minute." 

"Glad to hear that, Ami. I told Uncle and Aunty not to worry too much about the Rukhsati. Its just a small group of family and friends anyway."

"Haan bilkul," Abu nodded thoughtfully. "There is so much beauty is two people coming together for life, extravagant weddings are just unnecessary."

In the midst of the jubilation filling our family home, if my parents held any reservations about the marriage, they certainly weren't revealing them that day. On the contrary, they flawlessly embraced the role of caring in-laws that Madi deserved. They showered Madi's relatives with affection upon their arrival, treating them as if their past words had never been uttered, putting every fear of mine to rest.

At least for now, it gave me reason to be cautiously optimistic about the future relationship my parents would share with my wife.

I just hoped that lessons learnt in desperate times were not forgotten.

*******

For the Nikah ceremony at our home, we had invited my Mamoo (maternal uncle) and Madi's Mamoo as witnesses, while Madi's Naeem Tayaa would represent her in Karachi. The trio, accompanied by their spouses, a handful of my close cousins, arrived just before 9:30 pm. I promptly logged onto Zoom to officially commence the online wedding. 

Despite the impromptu event, Ami had miraculously transformed the house and its manicured garden into a picturesque sanctuary of celebration and joy, a beacon of light in a world still grappling with despair. Though, even amidst the soft glow of fairy lights and carefully arranged floral displays, reminders of the ongoing pandemic lingered. Whether it was the once 8-seater table now spaced for four to maintain distance or the masks adorning nearly every face, the prudent measures taken for this gathering were evident.

Still, the evening air was pleasantly cool, making the outdoor setting ideal. The alluring scent of tikkas and seekh kababs wafted through the atmosphere. While a few in-person guests engaged in conversations, my laptop screen being projected onto a massive white screen teemed with virtual attendees. Messages of congratulations flooded the Zoom chat, while the multiple online conversations happening simultaneously filled any void created by the absence of families and friends nearby.  

The only absence that could never be filled was that of Madi.

As that moment drew nearer, my yearning for her had intensified. Till a new attendee joined into the Zoom meeting. 

"Can you hear us?" Hasan asked, crouching in front of a laptop I assumed sat on a table outside his parents' house. However, I scarcely registered his words; my attention was entirely captivated by the woman standing behind him.