What Not To Do When You're In Love

13 | Feeling

"That's enough! I got my answer, Adinah," he grinned. "You can let him go now."

By now I was way too embarrassed to say anything in my defense, and just turned around and started walking away to save the dignity I was still left with.

Lubaina stayed inside, probably busy making a halwa in peace, but the rest of us sat first for refreshments, and after some time, for dinner.

They fed us, and they did it really well. But unlike typical Bollywood heroes, Hasan seemed to want more and more and yet more. That was how we sat on the dining table literally for hours, eating nonstop, and making fun of me nonstop.

But it was mandatory for me, as the new bride, to scowl once at Hasan and then once at Jebrail, unable to stop either as they laughed and mercilessly narrated in front of everyone about my embarrassing life before the marriage, and after.

Jebrail told him about the time that I crashed Papa's car when I was sixteen and just learning to drive, and ended up with barely a scratch on the car but a humongous swelling on my face where the airbags hit me through my glasses. Hasan told him of my adventures in the kitchen, and the time I accidentally fell asleep on the couch and his dad passed and caught me napping there.

Family meals at Hasan's place were odd. They were either totally chaotic because of too many relatives, or, when there was nobody except his parents, Hafsa and us, there was no conversation while eating at all.

But in my house, we were used to having fun every meal. Even after Papa left us, we tried hard to save a funny incident from school for dinnertime because all three of us wanted very desperately for at least that aspect of our house to remain the same as before, simply because it was one of the best things about our house and none of us wanted to lose it when we lost Papa.

And even now, after I got married and away, Amaan and Jebrail tried to keep mamma's spirit high on this table, because it was the only way they knew our family.

I looked at Hasan's face every two minutes now, and every time, undeniably, I noticed the grin he had whenever he was completely content.

And each time that I saw that grin, I felt it - I felt deep within my heart a small, soft glow of gratitude, for it felt that at least this something in my dramatically incorrect universe had fit correctly; at least this something had thankfully proved right.

This man who was dropped onto my life with barely any warning and without my own wish had wound up fitting into my family and my heart in a strange way that I hadn't ever imagined in my dreams. I had hoped, but I had never let myself expect the graduation of this level of affection for him, at least not this soon.

Something still wasn't right though, and this feeling was just as strong as any other that I was feeling lately. Hasan made eye-contact with me after noticing after some time that I was staring through him and really was far away. He signalled and asked me what happened.

And what happened?

I didn't reply. Instead I just gave him a smile; my smile of calm reassurance that everyone always fell for, because even I didn't know what actually had happened.

"When Aunty Rumana asked, I couldn't say no, Ammi," Lubaina said. "Ji. Yes, we will study together insha Allah. Ji. No, I'll come to collect some clothes and my books after some time. We'd wait till Hasan Bhai leaves. No, Ammi, of course not alone, it's too late! I'll come with . . . with Adinah. No, Ammi, she will not be driving; her brother's going to drive us. Ji. Okay. Assalam Alaikum."

"What did Aunty Amna say?" I asked when she hung up.

"What do you expect," Lubaina sighed and sat beside me on my bed. "As usual, she was wondering what the need was, to which I did not reply because I myself have no clue why we are doing this!"