Maryam and Aahil

Chapter 1 | Clash of Cultures

The sun had begun its descent, casting a warm golden hue over the city of Delhi. Amidst the hustle and bustle, a significant event was unfolding in Maryam's life. Steven, the man she had secretly admired for months, had finally gathered the courage to propose to her.

"Maryam, I... I've always cared about you. Will you marry me?" Steven's voice trembled as he held out a delicate ring, his eyes pleading for her response.

Tears welled up in Maryam's eyes as she looked at Steven, her heart pounding. "Yes, Steven, a thousand times yes!" Her voice quivered with emotion as she slipped the ring onto her finger, sealing their destinies with a single word.

Eager to share her happiness, Maryam rushed home, her heart aflutter. However, the reactions she received from her parents were far from what she had anticipated. The air grew thick with tension as her father's stern expression and her mother's disappointed gaze collided.

Her father, eyes fixed on the floor, broke the silence. "Maryam, this is not the path we had envisioned for you. You know our traditions."

Her mother's voice trembled with emotion. "We hoped you would understand, beta. These decisions are not made lightly."

The confrontation was inevitable, and soon, the calm evening was shattered by a storm of emotions.

"Traditional values, Ammi? These traditions are suffocating!" Maryam's frustration erupted, her voice quivering with anger.

Her father's face turned red with indignation. "These traditions have stood the test of time. They give us our identity."

Voices rose, accusations were hurled, and traditional values clashed with Maryam's modern ideals.

"Am I just supposed to marry someone you choose, Baba? What about my dreams, my happiness?"

The room echoed with the clash of generations, and as tempers flared, the air grew dense with regret and resentment.

Finally, her mother's eyes filled with tears. "We only want what's best for you, Maryam."

The fiery exchange of words left everyone emotionally drained, and yet, amidst the chaos, a resolution was forged.

Amidst tears and sighs, her parents promised to let Maryam marry Steven, but under one condition. "You must come with us to the village, Maryam. We want you to understand our roots, our values."

Maryam's heart raced with uncertainty. The ultimatum hung in the air, a daunting challenge that Maryam hesitantly accepted.

Days later, the journey to the village began, each mile bridging the gap between the city's modernity and the village's traditions. As they reached the village, Maryam's heart was a curious mixture of apprehension and excitement

Their host, Imtiyaz Ahmed, welcomed them warmly, and Maryam was introduced to Aahil Khan, an imposing figure who exuded an air of authority.

Their first encounter was marked by Aahil's agitated phone conversation, his commanding presence, and Maryam's defiance.

The door swung open, and Aahil Khan stepped in, his voice thundering. "No, I told you already, I won't tolerate any compromises!"

Maryam looked up from her newspaper, her eyes narrowing at the sight of the man. He was tall, with a pointy moustache that seemed to emphasize his intensity. His conversation was heated, and Maryam couldn't help but overhear snippets of his conversation.

"Who are you?" Aahil's voice resonated, shattering the tense silence.

Maryam lifted an eyebrow, unfazed by his presence. "I could ask you the same thing."

He raised an eyebrow, his irritation evident. "This is my family's house. I should be the one asking."

Maryam sighed and replied, "Maryam", not caring to elaborate further. He was being disrespectful for no reason, she didn't like his judging eyes as he took in her attire.

The room was charged with an unspoken challenge as their eyes met. The eye contact was broken when her father entered the room.

Jalil's eyes twinkled with warmth. "Aahil, it's been too long. You've grown into a true leader."

"How have you been?" Aahil's tone softened as he shook hands with Maryam's father.

They engaged in small talk, leaving Maryam to observe the exchange. The atmosphere was palpable, a blend of familiarity and respect.

Their conversation transitioned to a sofa, and Maryam continued reading her newspaper, ignoring them. She sensed Aahil's gaze on her, but she remained unfazed.

Aahil moved to sit on the sofa, expecting her to move. When she didn't, his annoyance was palpable.

"So engrossed in Western propaganda that you can't even acknowledge your elders?" Aahil's voice dripped with sarcasm.

Maryam looked up, her eyes flashing with determination. "Respect isn't tied to attire, Mr. Khan."

The inches that separated them were a physical manifestation of their opposing worlds. He expected her to yield, to move away, but her unwavering demeanor left him intrigued and irritated in equal measure.

"Maryam?" His voice sliced through the air, demanding her attention.

"Mr. Khan." She met his gaze head-on, a silent standoff that spoke volumes.

"Jao chai banao mere aur tumhare baba ke liye." His order was firm, carrying an air of authority.

Maryam laughed incredulously. "Mujhe chai banana nahi aata."

Jalil sighed heavily. "Mary, jao bana do. Andar mulazim hongey unki madad le lena."

Maryam wanted to argue, but Jalil's look silenced her. As she exited, she could feel Aahil's eyes on her, intensifying her irritation.

In the kitchen, her anger boiled, finding its outlet in a rebellious act. She made the tea, adding salt, pepper, and chilli instead of sugar. The concoction was a small act of rebellion, a release of her pent-up frustrations.

She brought the tea cups, giving Aahil a nasty look. "Humare ghar ki ladkiyan aankh uthakar nahi dekhti kisiko, and you are glaring at me?"

Aahil's voice was laced with intimidation. "Humare ghar ki ladkiyan aise baat nahi karti."

Maryam's fiery spirit wasn't to be suppressed. "Mai aapke ghar ki ladki nahi hu, mehman hu. Who speaks to their guest with so much disrespect?"

Aahil's gaze turned to Jalil, seeking support. "Dekha sun le apni beti ki baat."

Jalil's tone was soft but firm. "Maafi maango Aahil se."

"Kyun Baba? Aap kyun jhuk rahey iss shaks ke saamne?" Maryam's eyes blazed with defiance.

Aahil's patience was wearing thin. "Maryam maango maafi!"

Maryam turned to Aahil, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "I am sorry."

"Sorry for what?" Aahil's tone was challenging, his eyes locked onto hers.

Maryam's gaze never wavered. "For being disrespectful."

"And?" Aahil leaned in, his voice lowering.

Maryam's confusion was evident. "I am not sorry for anything else."

Aahil's gaze remained intense, his curiosity evident. "Beti sambhal nahi paaye aap."

Maryam's patience snapped, her anger flaring. "Don't you dare judge me."

As she stormed out of the room, her emotions ran wild. She felt a mixture of defiance, frustration, and a strange thrill from their exchange. The thrill was mutual, an energy that hung in the air long after she left.

Aahil was left contemplating her fiery spirit, a mix of irritation and fascination brewing within him. Maryam was unlike any woman he had encountered before, and her audacity had ignited a spark of interest he couldn't ignore.