Sadqay Tumhare

1.

فأخلاقك هي جمال.  Your behavior is your beauty.

Aaina.

"Salam, aunty."

I greeted another woman who was in our house, I had no clue who she was but clearly she was an important person.

She called me near her and I walked ahead.

Ever since I was a little girl, my parents had taught me that I had to respect everyone older than me.

It didn't matter if I knew them or not, it didn't matter if they were good or bad people, I had to be nice.

And this was the sunday brunch.

"Yes, aunty." I walked near the old woman, who hardly looked old at all.

"How are you, Aaina? How's your university going?"

I smiled down at her.

How was university?

Well, apparently my semester in Barcelona that I had worked so hard for, that plan was diminished from my life. My friends were scoring better than me because I hardly got any time to study, and my parents were planning to marry me off to a man I didn't know.

"It's going okay, aunty." I lied.

She patted my back and I was about to question about her health when I heard my mother's voice.

"Aaina, come here."

"You'll have to excuse me, aunty." I excused myself and walked towards my mother, who was deep in conversation with someone.

"Yes, ammi?"

"Meet Rehana Gul. She's the new head of J group." She informed me.

I didn't really care. But she did. I didn't understand their purpose of making me meet all the influential people but I said my salams anyway.

"Oh, hello." I shook her hand.

"Aaina is in her first year of university.."

My mother informed her, eyes glancing at my father and then back at us.

"That's great, are you enjoying it?"

"Yes, it's going fine so far." I responded.

I stayed there for a little while as she told me all about her experiences, I told her about mine.

She was an interesting woman and I actually enjoyed her company. I wanted to talk more but I got snapped out of a deep conversation as I heard my father's polite, yet firm voice call me out.

"Aaina!" I hadn't greeted my father since the morning.

He had been busy with his guests anyway.

"Salam, abbu." I reached him. He put a hand on my head, returning back the Salam.

There was another man stood beside him. I knew he was the Prime Minister's advisor of health services, I had seen him multiple times before.

"Say Salam to Usman Sahab as well,."

I didn't need to be told twice.

"Salam. Nice to meet you."

"You too, beta."

"Imran Sahab, are you going to the PM's conference tomorrow?" The middle aged man asked my father. I felt uncomfortable even standing there but I couldn't leave.