Fibs and Fables

Chapter 4

Mukhtar felt like he had taken a dip in the spring of eternal youth. When he looked in the mirror, he was surprised to see a sparkle that had been missing for so long—a slight curve to his lips that refused to leave. He had woken up bright and early and even tried his hand at dying his hair. His daughter was coming back home. Oh, how his heart puffed up at the thought.

His sky has been bright and sunny for the past couple of days; the gray clouds of despair that had loomed over the happiness of Meerab's return had all been swept up in a storm named Murtasim Khan. And he has never been so grateful to Shahnawaz and Salma Bhabi as on that day.

The Malik Manor thrummed with infectious joy. The renovations and decorations were in full swing, just like they had been since his return from Karachi after meeting Murtasim. Though they had decided on common grounds for the wedding, he did not want his home to look anything less than a palace for his daughter's wedding.

Since the wedding was proposed at the Panchayat, there has been no opportunity for the two families to meet. With only a few days until the wedding, they had a lot to discuss, namely the pre-wedding ceremonies, the number of receptions, the wedding decorations, and the number of guests. The list was endless, and sometimes he wondered if they would be able to pull it off by the end of the week. His son-in-law and his love for deadlines Yes, the skipping of "future" before the son-in-law was completely intentional. And from their limited interactions alone, Mukhtar knew that Murtasim would soon migrate into the status of "son".

The Khan family was going to visit them in the evening to officially meet Meerab for the first time. It would also be the first time the families would be meeting after peace has been proposed through marriage. It was a historical moment, and he wanted it to be perfect. But amidst the preparations for their visit and the numerous errands of the wedding that required his attention to detail, his schedule was jam packed, and he could not spare a single second, let alone the hours needed to pick up his daughter from Karachi.

Mukhtar's face clouded over at that thought. It had been a little more than a year since he had seen his daughter. He was not there to drop her off at the airport the last time she had come for holidays, since she had to unexpectedly return when one of her papers got accepted and the department offered her a research position to further her studies. Tensions were high then, and he could not send her off in person. And then he missed her graduation, and now yet again he won't be the one to pick her up.

In rare moments of vulnerability, he would quietly wonder if Meerab ever knew the extent of his affection for her. He would often berate himself for not expressing his love more freely, for sending her away, and for not always being there for her.

He let out a sigh. They were right when they said, Heavy is the head that wears the crown.

As Mukhtar descended the stairs, he waved Farooq, his right-hand man, closer.

"Meerab's flight would land at twelve, right?"

Yes, Malik, I have told Abu to check if there are any delays. The driver and guards would soon leave."

Hmm, tell them to leave immediately. When Meerab arrives, they should have already reached Don't keep my daughter waiting. She would be tired, and the Khans are coming in the evening, so she needs to rest up for that."

"Oh, Mamu Jaan, I won't keep her waiting."

Mukhtar turned around to see Zubair leaning against the grand doors of the foyer. He had not seen Zubair since that fateful day at the panchayat. His rage had been so explosive when he had walked out of the Manor that day, and Mukhtar was hoping to not see his face until after the wedding. But seems like it was not happening.