'Is age really just a number?'
Established author, Rehan Tariq, a thirty-five-years-old single man, is constantly questioned about his marital status. And he always has the same answer for them: "Not now."
"If not now, then when?"
Even he does not...
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Another beautiful creation by storiesbyzainab! Thank you so much for this! ❤️ I love it! Yasin and Saba
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Saim
"Saim?"
I looked up sheepishly. "Yes, Uncle?"
Mr Siddique, a.k.a. my father-in-law was looking at me questioningly. "How is your work going, beta?"
"Alhumdulillah, very well." I replied.
Laila was glaring at me with disapproval. My mind hadn't been present since the lunch had commenced at her parents' house. I had been sneakily checking on the football match scores on my phone, and Laila had noticed that. My concentration had been lacking, which had become noticeable to Laila.
"Saim is a very quiet guy." Laraib, Laila's twenty-eight-year-old sister spoke. She had gotten married a year before us and was now a mother to a two-month-old baby, Tayyeb, who was currently being held by Mrs Siddique, while Laraib ate.
"Saim is anything but quiet." Laila smiled.
"You are the chatterbox, Laila," Laraib told her. "I feel bad for Saim."
Everyone laughed, good-naturedly.
"Saim, have some more." Mrs Siddique told me. "Laila, beta, give him more kebab."
"Aunty, I'm full. Thank you!" I held up both hands in surrender.
"Unacceptable! You are yet to have the ras malai and gulab jaman." Mr Siddique sat back in his seat, before taking a sip of water.
Ras malai: a dessert of fluffy milk dumpling soaked in fragranced and sweetened milk.
Gulab jaman: fried dumplings scented with cardamom and steeped in rose and saffron syrup.
"Uncle..." I began to protest.
"No arguments." Mrs Siddique told me. "I made ras malai, especially for you. Laila said you love it."
I glanced at Laila, giving her a small smile. "Laila is very considerate of my likes and dislikes. She's very sweet."
"Sweet is a generous word." Laraib joked, winking at her sister. Again, everyone laughed.
"So, what's the score, Saim?" Mr Siddique asked with a knowing twinkle in his eyes.
I grinned sheepishly.
"I know the look, lad." He said. "I was just as eager to know the score when Pakistan won the World Cup of 1992. It wouldn't have been a problem if we were in Pakistan, but here I couldn't get time off."
