Mahrukh is the youngest in her family. The apple of her family's eyes [ well mostly ]. Living in a joint family with a divorced aunt who is ready to set everything on fire.
Just how hard could it be?
Throw in a bunch of rude friends and cousins Ma...
Two weeks till Ramadan. The weather was becoming hotter by the day. On a bright sunny day, there was a huge wave of heat flowing around the capital city of Pakistan. The green trees around the area, acted as shelter from the sunrays. In result to the alarming levels of heat, sweat had become the best friend of the people. It drenched the backs of people and air conditioning was the only protection from it. The roads bubbled and the turnac boiled, anyone naive enough to stand on floors barefoot would ubderstand the meaning of searing heat. The stillness of the air and decreasing humidity, was the reason why most elites stayed inside their bubbles.
Mahrukh woke up at 6 am. Her duties had increased ever since she had become the owner of the villa. Everyone, except for her mother and Aliya mama had backed out from the duties. Their constantly used phrase to support their actions would be "the owner should take responsibility" or "we are not servants to work for her". And so Mahrukh would wake up in the early hours of morning to go to the kicthen and get the stove running. The hob would be covered with large pans and oil was bubbled. As Mahrukh started on the breakfast of the day. The khansama (chef) would not be here for an other hour. So before he came, breakfast would be prepared and dishes would be covered in tinfoil.
Then, Mahrukh would proceed to her bedroom to take a shower. The cold water felt like heaven on her knotted back. Covering her hair in the peach-scented shampoo, she would massage her hair before using vanilla scented soap to wash her body. Stepping out of the bathroom, her hair wrapped in a fluffy towel, she would start working on her skin care routine. Using a hydrating moisturiser and some sunblock was the only thing she did religiously on a day to day basis. Blow drying her hair and wrapping them into a bun, she would head to her parents room.
Today, on a bright Sunday, Mahrukh had opted to wear a rust printed frock, with plain rust trousers. With a printed lawn dupatta. Her ears had small jhumkis (traditional earrings worn by women in South Asia) in them. Her lips had been hurriedly lined with a soft pink lip balm. Spraying a bit of her Chanel No5. (Obviously a copy that had been bought from a local store but smelt equally as good as Laraib's original one), she hopped to her parents room.
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"Mama Baba good morning," her cheerful face brought a smile upon her parents face who blessed her wholeheartedly and headed to the living room. Everyone was already present in the room except for Akbar and Zain. They were gone to Belgium for a business trip, undoubtedly their last one untill after Eid. The room had a pin drop silence. Tensions were higher than ever. Hooriya and Zainab had completely poisoned Amna's mind against Mahrukh. It was so bad that Amna refused to belive her mother-in-law even. Sigh. Lately, Aliya had began to regret her decision of making Amna her daughter in law for all she ever did was complain.
"Assalamualikum," (Peace be on you) Mahrukh wished everyone present in the room. In return she silent whispers of replies, a stark contrast to their usual shouting. Amna who had her knife in a death grip looked at Mahrukh with venomous eyes. Zainab looking at the furious young woman taunted "What use is it trying to destroy that knife? When your husband's mashuka is sitting in front of you?" (Lover/ here used to say mistress) Amna looked at the old woman who was eating parathas. She seemed satisfued of herself. And so obviously, Amna had to hurt the feelings of her former best friend "Mahrukh... so how is it going running the household with the money of someone else's husband? Better yet how does it feel to be the second choice hmmm?" Mahrukh looked at her confused not getting her meaning. But Aliya had understood everything clearly. "Amna stay in your limits. You should be glad Akbar isn't home--" Amna furious at the name of her husband shouted "AKBAR. LEAVE HIM ALONE. HE IS THE REASON WHY A THIRD PERSON IS BETWEEN US. SHE IS DESTROYING MY RELATIONSHIP WITH MY HUSBAND. YOU MAHRUKH --" However the sentence remained incomplete as the sound of a slap resonated in the room.
Shifa, who had been tortured enough at the hands of the family had vowed to protect her daughter from the same fate. She had slapped Amna, who was slandering the character of her innocent daughter. "One more word from your lips and you will be out of this house!" Shifa told Amna with a tone of finality. Amna looked into the eyes of her mother in law but seeing the contentment in her eyes, she knew she was alone. "Beti ghar ki malkin kia bani... tum tou chod hi hogai!" (Ever since your daughter became the owner of the house you have become proudy) Hooriya threw the words at her deevrani. The fight would have gone on had Kmal and Saad not stepped in the argument.
○~○
Mahrukh, spent most of the afternoon and evening inside the hot kicthen. Helping the cook with dinner and other little things. Then having some tea with her parents. Akbar and Zain would be back before dinner and so their favourite food had been prepared. Biryani and chicken qourma had been prepared for the men. As well as some rice pudding. Mahrukh was slicing almonds thinly to top the pudding when the car had arrived and the loud voice of Akbar and Zain had been heard.
Dinner was a loud experience. Everyone was talking in animated voices with two about their trip to Belgium. Akbar had noticed that Mahrukh was avoiding him, and planned to confront her after he had eaten. Zain too had seen that the inquisitive Mahi was a silent Mahi. To turn her frown upside down he nudged her before speaking "I have brought a load of Belgian chocolates for you," Mahrukh hearing that her favourite food had been brought for her, lit up with a beautiful smile. Looking at her protective elder cousin she spoke "Pleaseee gimme as soon as dinner is done with!" She looked at him with puppy dog eyes. Zain promised her that as soon as he was done he would get her some.
It was a few hours later. Mahrukh was sitting in her bed scrolling through her Instagram feed while biting on one out of the many chocolates Zain had gotten for her. Suddenly, there was a knock on her door. "Mahrukh may I come in?" She heard the voice of Akbar. "Ji bhai". Akbar entered the room with calculates steps before sitting on the edge of her bed. "Mahrukh can I ask you something?" the young girl nodded her head "What happened while I was gone?" Not being able to lie from her brother she repeated the entire scene to him. While speaking, she was moved to tears. Akbar in order to console her, moved her head on his shoulder and gave her head a massage, heading out when she fell asleep. Akbar entered his room and spoke with finality to his wife. "Amna if you ever slander Mahrukh again, I will divorce you!"
○~○
It was funny how money turned brother against brother. Mahrukh had felt her relationships further detoriate after the death of her grandfather. Her life was not all sunshine. The countless tortures with words, burned her mentally. They affected her and bruised her mind. Making her second guess herself. There was a great need in her heart to lay her emotions on someone. So that her heart would feel lighter. But she did not want to burden anyone near her. And so she prayed to Allah for a companion. One that would heal her and listen to her without a break. And be sincere with her.
The angels brought her request to her Creator. Who heard her. And said "Kun"
