𝐌𝐨𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐚𝐭 𝐊𝐞 𝐀𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐨 (Do Not Read, Incomplete Story)

12. Roshan | Bright |(روشن).

❝Baag ujad gaye khilne se pehle

Panchhi bichhad gaye
milne se pehle

Koyal ki kook ne hook uthayi

Haye lambi judai. ❞

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

RUMI'POV

I awoke to the melodic call of the Fajr Azaan. Sitting up, I glanced toward Zayan, who was peacefully asleep. My mind wandered - does he not pray? Oh right, I recalled. I sighed, performed ablution, offered my prayers, and then prayed
'2 rakat nafil shukrane ke' to express my gratitude to Allah.

('Do rakat nafil shukrane ke':- performed 2 units of voluntary prayer to thank Allah for something good happening, known as.)

I had hoped to pray with Zayan after our nikaah, but it didn't happen. The thought saddened me, bringing back flashbacks from yesterday. A tear escaped, but I quickly wiped it away. No, I won't cry; I need to be strong. I prayed that may allah give me zayan with his love not hate.

After folding the prayer mat, I checked the time. There was still time to get ready for my first day in my sasuraal. If it were a regular day, I would be back to sleep after prayers - how lazy I used to be before marriage. But now, this seemed to be my new routine, and I didn't mind; at least, I was close to my love, Zayan.

I headed to the bathroom for a shower, leaving him peacefully asleep. I chose not to wake him for prayer since I had never seen him pray; perhaps, he doesn't. May Allah guide him on the right path.

I came out of bathroom, Clad in a maroon heavy frock with heavy dupatta instructed by my mother-in-law.

Rumi's outfit↑

I dried my hair and tied them in a messy bun. Standing in front of the dressing table, I followed my daily skincare routine and applied maroon lipstick. Nervous about dressing up so extravagantly, especially with maroon lipstick, which felt too much for me, I reminded myself of Mumma's guidance on post-marriage rituals. She told me everything like what to do and what not. How to talk. What to wear. Evrything means everything!! And only single thought of my mother brought smile on my face.

Finally ready, I turned to look at Zayan, who was still deep in slumber. I went downstairs to prepare breakfast, finding my father-in-law reading the newspaper in the living room, with Ayesha Aunty pouring him some tea.

"Assalamualaikum," I greeted in low voice , but because of the silence in the room,my voice echoed louder.

Ayesha aunty smiled upon looking up, and Uncle greeted back returning to his newspaper.