Meerasim Ki Dunya

Chapter 18. Sanjeeda Faisla

"Mujhy lagta tha tumhari shadi hogi tou Haya khud hi peeche hat jayegi," Maa Begum began.

"Mei bhi aesa hi samajhta tha. Kitni bar mei ne uss se kaha bhi tha ke wo Marium jesi hai mere liye magar wo phir bhi baz nahi ayi," Murtasim told her.

"Mei ne tou Marium aur iss ki barabar tarbyat ki hai pata nahi ye itni behaya kese ho gayi," Maa Begum shook her head in disbelief.

"Hai tou ye Marium se choti lekin shayad ab iss ke baare me pehle sochna parega," Maa Begum continued.

Murtasim shook his head. "Shadi hal nahi hai, Maa. Haya humari zimadari hai aur yun achanak uss ki shadi Marium se pehle hogi tou log uss ki aur humari izzat pe ungliyan uthayengy."

"Phir kya hal hai Murtasim?" Maa Begum said admitting defeat.

"Ap ko yad hai ke mei ne ap ko bataya tha ke gaon walay girls school me teachers short hain humare pas?" Murtasim asked her and Maa Begum nodded with a small smile knowing where he was going.

"Mei chahta hu ke ap Haya ko wahan bhej den teaching ke liye. Ho sakta hai jab wo iss ghar se dur rahegi tou usse samajh aa jayega ke Meerab meri biwi hai aur uss ke ilawa mere pas kisi aur ki gunjayish nahi hai," Murtasim continued.

"Beta agar wo na mani tou?" Maa Begum asked with a hint of doubt.

"Maa, usse bata dijiyega ke dusra hal phir shadi karna hai. Baki ap behtar janti hain ke Haya ko kese manana hai." With a final resolve, Murtasim stood up to leave.

"Theek hai beta. Tumhara walima nimat jaye khairiyat se phir usse bhej denge," Maa Begum said with a smile as Murtasim left with a nod.

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Meerab patiently sat in her room, with her arms spread in front of her as the henna artist did her work. Her back hurt from sitting in the same position for so long. This was the only reason she loathed applying henna on her hands but right now it was unavoidable since it was her own walima. The fact that it was the first day of her periods wasn't helping with her current situation at all. She half-felt as if she would pass out. She closed her eyes in the hope that the pain would pass when she felt someone place pillows behind her to make her comfortable. She opened her eyes to find Marium there. She raised an eyebrow in question to which Marium responded by saying, "Bhai was passing by and felt that his wife was uncomfortable sitting like this so he specifically asked me to make you comfortable. He also asked me to remind you to get his name written on your hand."

Meerab felt a rush of heat rise up to her cheeks. Marium must've noticed it because she giggled. Meerab shot her a glare and she left.

"What name do you want me to write?" the mehndi artist asked her.

"Please write M only," Meerab replied. There was no way she was going to give him the satisfaction of having his full name written on her palm.

Later that evening, Marium was helping her rub off her dried henna while Murtasim was sitting on their bed working on his laptop. As the layers of the henna peeled off, Marium squealed. "Oh my God Meerab. The colour is so deep. Bhai must love you a lot because it wasn't this dark on your wedding."

Marium had been loud enough for Murtasim to have heard them even though they were in the washroom. "What nonsense, Marium. It must've been a different brand of henna that's why," she muttered.

"Well I'll just ask Bhai if he loves you or not if you don't believe what I'm saying, should I?" Marium said teasingly.

"Don't you dare, Marium," Meerab hissed as the last of the henna rubbed off her skin.

"Okay, okay. I'm leaving now. Don't be late for dinner," she said as she left.

Meerab sighed in relief as Marium finally left the room. She never knew that her sister-in-law had a knack for teasing her so, especially about her relationship with Murtasim. With the situation in which the marriage had taken place, they were still getting to know each other. But there was something about the way he had arranged those pillows for her earlier that made her heart flutter.

As she entered their bedroom, she noticed Murtasim still engrossed in his laptop, typing away. She couldn't help but smile at his dedication to his work. He was a hardworking man, and she respected that about him.

"Thank you for the pillows," Meerab said softly, breaking the silence in the room.

Murtasim looked up from his laptop, a warm smile forming on his face. "You're welcome, Meerab. I noticed you were uncomfortable, so I thought it might help."

She nodded, feeling a bit shy. "And about what Marium said earlier," she began hesitantly, "the henna color, it's probably just the brand, right?"

Murtasim chuckled, setting aside his work for a moment. "Well, it could be the brand, but it could also be because I love you, no?"

Meerab's cheeks turned a deeper shade of crimson, and she couldn't help but smile. "You're quite smooth with your words, Mr. Khan."

He reached out and gently held her hand, tracing the 'M' on her palm that had been beautifully adorned with henna. "I mean every word, Mrs. Khan. You're the best thing that has happened to me."

Their eyes locked, and for a moment, the world outside their room faded away. It was a simple moment, but it held a depth of emotion that words could never truly capture. Meerab realized that love could be expressed in many ways, even through something as simple as arranging pillows for comfort or appreciating the depth of henna color.

As they continued to gaze at each other, the unspoken connection between them grew stronger, reassuring Meerab that despite their circumstances, their arranged marriage was turning into something beautiful and genuine.

The evening wore on, and it was time for dinner. Meerab and Murtasim left their room and made their way to the dining area where Marium and the rest of the family were already gathered. The room was filled with laughter and the delicious aroma of the food that had been prepared.

Marium, who had been eagerly awaiting their arrival, couldn't resist a teasing grin as she looked at Meerab. "So, Bhai, did Meerab tell you what she had the mehndi artist write on her hand?" she asked, her eyes dancing mischievously.

Meerab's cheeks flushed again, and she sent her sister an exasperated look. Murtasim, on the other hand, looked genuinely curious. "What did you have written?" he asked Meerab.

She hesitated for a moment, then smiled shyly. "Just 'M'."

Murtasim chuckled, his eyes filled with affection. "Well, I suppose that's my initial, isn't it?"

Meerab couldn't resist a playful grin in response to Murtasim's comment. She raised an eyebrow and retorted, "Well, it's my initial too, you know."

Her words were met with laughter from their family, and Murtasim's affectionate smile widened. He reached for her hand, gently intertwining their fingers. "Of course, Meerab, it's our initial," he said, emphasizing the word 'our' with a warm look that conveyed his growing love and connection with her.

The evening continued with their playful banter and shared moments, solidifying the bond between Meerab and Murtasim and reminding them that their love story was still unfolding, one initial at a time.

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