To live and to love

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The high court was packed. Lawyers rushed in, their eyes fixed on their papers, robes in disarray and hair disheveled from the heat. March in Karachi was a brutal affair, all heat and no reprieve. I sat on the wooden benches in the far corner, watching the proceedings with a mild interest of a weary traveler.

Mehak, my friend since college, sat beside me going over the notes on her mobile, her braid swept over one shoulder, her eyes squinting from the sun. Trying to kill the time, my eyes wandered towards the lopsided signs displayed in a haphazard way, displaying the variety of lawyers available for hire.

I gripped the piece of paper in my hand, trying not to let it wrinkle in my sweaty palm.

Nervous. I was nervous.

This was a huge step. Something that would shake the foundations of my family. Something that would definitely topple the foundations of Salaar's family.

"It's going to be okay," Mehak muttered sensing my trepidation. "You're doing the right thing."

"Am I?"

"Fighting for your right is the right thing Rain. Don't lose hope. Besides, Salaar bhai promised he'd get you through this," and I trusted him. Completely and implicitly.

"I know he will. I just don't know... anyway, let's see what the lawyer says."

As we waited, my mind wandered back to a month ago when I'd dropped the bombshell on my family.

"You're getting married? Just like that? Out of the blue? To a boy, we've never met?"

"He's a man and you do know him, he works in my office," I answered briefly, leaning against the dining table, my eyes fixed on the wall clock.

"Ex-office," Azaan muttered his eyes narrowed on me. I stuck my tongue out at him and focused on my mother.

"Is he rich?"

"No."

"Good looking?"

"No."

"Charming?"

I thought about it. "Not particularly..."

"Do you love him?"

"No," God forbid.

"Then why are you marrying him?"

"Wait, wait... Salaar is the guy who killed his wife right?"

Amma's head whipped so fast I was afraid she'd get whiplash. "What?"

"She left him," I intervened, my eyes threatening to strangle Azaan if he made this whole thing worse.

"Oh my God, what if he lied and buried her body?" I sincerely doubted he'd make that effort. In all the time I'd known him, the man had stayed glued to his chair.

"You're overreacting Ma. Either way, you'd get rid of me, isn't that what you want?"

She blinked rapidly, her eyes misting over from the hurt. "Look at you! You're marrying an old divorcee! What is wrong with you Rania?" She did not want to hear that list.

"He's not old," I said, tossing a walnut in my mouth. I'd only seen him hobble, like twice.

"He's been married once! Men get married late! He's probably in his forties!"

Seriously, she was acting like I had better proposals to accept, especially after that incident. "He's 32 Ma."

"Which is why he's poor! And now you've lost your job! What will you do? How will you survive? Wait! Does he have a lot of siblings?"