کبھی پرچم میں لپٹے ہیں
کبھی ہم غازی ہوتے ہیں
••••
Her lips stretched in a smile as her sisters, cousins, and her friends sat around the dholak and started singing the wedding folk songs. The youngest of her sisters, Maira, beat the chamach against the dhol in a rhythym as the rest of them clapped.
Her hands were held out as the girl in front of her decorated her hands all the way up to to her elbows with henna.
"Mehroo hilo mat. Mehndi kharab ho jaye gi." Her older sister, Madiha, called her out as she was started to squirm in her place.
"Aapi, kharish ho rahi hai maathe pe." She whined.
Madiha left her space on the floor and came to sit by her. Scratching her forehead lightly and then fixing her tika on her forehead.
"Itni pyaari lag rahi ho, Mashallah." Madiha touched the kohl in her own eyes and then touched spot right below her ear. "Dar lagta hai meri he nazar na lag haye."
Mehreen was dressed in long heavily embroidered and beaded yellow anarkali frock that touched her ankles. The cinched sleeves were rolled up all the way above elbows as her forearms were laced with beautiful designs of henna. Her amber eyes were framed with kajal and eyeliner. Her long light brown hair coiled on left side embedded with yellow flowers just like the floral jewelry she wore.
It was her mayon day. Family and friends gathered to celebrate the beginning of Mehreen and Ehtisham's wedding. The week long events were starting today as guests started arriving from all over Pakistan. The only person missing was the dulha himself
"Baaajiii!!"
Murtaza skidded in the hallway and hit the door of the living room.
"Kya hua?" She held her hand up to the woman who was getting ready to put henna on her feet.
"Woh darzi keh raha hai, mehendi wale jore ki fitting mei gar bar ho gayi woh kal dega."
The whole room fell silent as they all turned around and stared at Mehreen who was about to burst in to a cry.
"Three... two... one..." Madiha muttered under her breath as she waited for her sister's outburst.
"KYA," she stood up from her seat.
"Relax Mehroo."
"Relax? RELAX!!! Relax karoon mein? Kal meri mehendi hai aur us ne mera dress he kharab kar diya. Choroon gi nahi mein is ko."
She pushed past the henna ladies. Madiha wrapped her arm around her, holding her from running away.
"Jan' do mujhe. Aaj mein iska kaam he band karvati hoon. Aag na lagadi iske kapro ko to mera naam bhi Mehreen Shah nahi."
"Mehroo, kal tak dress aaa jaye gi. Bus kar, mehendi kharab ho jaye gi."
"Allah puche ga is kamine ko. Agar kal mera dress nahi aaya, mein bata rahi hoon meine shaadi nahi karni."
"Baaji, Ehtisham bhai ki call hai," Maria held up Mehreen's phone and she forgot all about the darzi's fiasco.
Forgetting all about the henna ladies, she took her phone and held with the hand on which the mehendi had dried.
She walked up the stairs to her room, knowing well he was on the other side. Walking to the balcony past the french doors, she spoke in the phone.
"Hello?"
"Mein bhi keh deta hoon agar inkar kar dia na utha ke lei jaoon ga." His teasing voice reached her ears.
"Kaise?"
"Kia matlab kaise? Haq hai mera. Biwi ho tum meri. 6 mahine ho gaye hamare Nikah ko. Youn aaoonga aur sab ke beech se youn leke chala jaoonga. Woh kehte hai na dilwale dulhaniya lei jayen ge, meri jaan."
"Acha jee, iske liye bhi yahan aana parta hai. Aap to abhi tak sarhadon par apne jahazon se ishq lara rahe hain."
"Kia karoon. Farz yahan hai to Dil wahan. Farz dil par bhari par gaya."
"Jaiye maaf kiya. Keh dei apni sarhadon se ke hum apni mohabbat unpe vaar rahe hain."
"Dil chahta hai ur ke aajaon."
"Ek F-16 mein baith ke aajao. Kaafi parking hai chhatt pe."
His laugh flowed like a music through the phone.
"Acha kab aarahein hai aap?"
"Kal mehendi se pehle pohanch jaoon ga. Aapki soorat ko dekhe mahine ho gaye."
"Aapki qurbat ki chah mein hamari raaton ka sukoon barbad hai pilot sahab."
"Yeh riwayaton ki ek raat baqi hai, jis din aapko surkh jore mein lei jaoon ga, qasam se ek ek se badla loon ga." Her laugh was like tinkling bell, soothing the sweet pain of this separation. "Sabne humein milne se roka tha na... dekhna... milne to kiya dekhne bhi nahi doonga."
Her eyes looked down, getting shy of his words, the pink tinting her cheeks and the moon watching her blush. She was about to cut the call when he called her out.
"Sunyie..."
"Jee?" Her eyes still staring at her feet as if he could see her.
"Inteha ki mohabbat ho gayi aapse!"
YOU ARE READING
Fanaa - Destroyed in Love (Short stories/scenes)
Spiritual(n.) destruction of the self; "destroyed in love" A collection of short stories, excerpts, scenes I write. Probably going to be super sappy and sometimes corny.
