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Random Song Recommendation: Do Bol OST. I think that song kind of fits this story.
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Tara
I wanted to cry as we were going back home. Who wants to leave a peaceful, carefree live behind?
On the other hand, I was about to go to my in-laws' house in London for the first time...well, the first time as their daughter-in-law. Previously, I had visited with my family as the daughter of Uncle's friend, and after our marriage in Lahore, we had gone on our Friendventure directly.
It was a long flight from Bangkok to London, and that was after a short-haul flight on a low-cost carrier.
Needless to say, I slept most of the way on the flight, only waking up to eat.
After the kiss, we had busied ourselves in enjoying the trip so much that by the end of each day, we freshened up, crashed into bed and fell asleep immediately, avoiding any awkwardness.
"Tara?"
I woke up with a start. I had fallen asleep on the car from the airport to the house as well, as Talha Bhai drove us back. "Hmm?"
"We're home."
Home.
For me, home in London always meant by parents' cute and modest house. For the Iftikhar family, it meant something else. We pulled up outside a red-bricked home with gorgeous French windows, and two white pillars flanking the beautifully polished black front doors. It was the time of house me and my sisters used to look at wide-eyed, whenever Dad drove us through the wealthier areas of London.
We'd barely gotten out of the car, when the front door opened and my mother-in-law stepped out. She was a modern woman, with a stylish bob cut, and a chic western outfit. Today she wore black formal trousers and a dark blue double-layered shirt, along with black high-heel shoes. I'd, of course seen her in this dress up before marriage, but it was still unexpected to see my Saas dressed that way, after all the years of stereotypical mothers-in-law that I had seen on TV.
"Assalam Alaikum!" Zain, Talha Bhai and I greeted her in unison.
"Walaikum Assalam!" She widely held out her arms and hugged Zain, and then me. "Welcome to your new home, Tara."
"Thank you, Aunty."
"How was your honeymoon?" She looked at me, then at Zain and then back.
"It was a unique experience." Zain smiled at me.
"I'm sorry if he bored you, Bhabi." Talha Bhai told me. "He's a very boring person, I know." He laughed as Zain punched him playfully in the arm.
"Zain, you go and get freshened up. I'll give Tara the tour of the house, after which she'll join you." Aunty told her son.
Zain and Bhai walked inside with the luggage.
"Look, Tara. Life here would be pretty simple." Aunty said as we headed into the house slowly. "The only duties you will have here are towards Zain, or occasionally cooking a dish. We have staff here who take care of everything in general, but once or twice a week, I prefer if one of us makes a dish for the family. Lamisa cooks every day, because it's her passion, and she took special cooking and baking courses before marriage, but that's her choice to do so." She stopped in the hallway, putting a hand on my shoulder. "Your duty, as I said, is only towards Zain, as he has a duty towards you."
I nodded.
"In our home, there's a rule: apne kaam se kaam rakhna." She said. "We may live together, but we don't believe in interference in each others' matters. I don't interfere in Talha and Lamisa's life, and now that Zain is married, you are free to live your own lives. Sometimes, the desire to help someone may come across as interference." She glanced at me pointedly.
*Apne kaam se kaam rakhna: to mind one's own business.
She thought that I was the interfering sort, if I wasn't mistaken. Possibly because I spoke up for Lamisa Bhabi on my first morning with my in-laws.
"What if someone is saying something wrong or unfair?" I asked.
"Then I'll deal with it." She said. "In situations like that, let the adults handle it. There's no reasonable reason for you to get involved. I know you mean well, Tara, but things in your in-laws need to be handled very carefully, very delicately. It may not seem fair, but you need to know how to maintain good relations with everyone."
"I understand, Aunty."
"Good." She smiled.
After a tour of the beautiful home, she sent me to my room to freshen up and rest, telling me that she'd have tea and some snacks sent up.
My room.
The bedroom of Tara and Zain Iftikhar.
I stepped through the bedroom door, and gasped. The house was apparently so large, that Arzoo Aunty had separated it in portions. The upper portion was ours, the lower portion was Talha Bhai's and Uncle and Aunty now resided in a separate annexe, at the other side of the huge garden. I'd seen some Pakistani families back home separating families into portions, for their privacy.
Part of our portion was our huge bedroom suite. The carpet was the softest, and so white that I just knew that I was going to end up spilling tea on it, because I was Tara. As you entered through the double bedroom door, you first walk into the living area, which had an adjoining large balcony. The colour themes were white and shades of blue. In the living area were sofas and an ottoman, along with a coffee table. While the balcony door opened on one wall, there was a large window on the other. To the right was our bedroom.
The bed was huge, with a blue ottoman resting at the end. Across from it was a fairly large plasma TV, that was surrounded by built in shelves and cupboards. An old-fashioned style, yet contemporarily designed chandelier hung in the centre of the ceiling, on both sections of the suite.
To the other side of the bed was a wall covered with fitted wardrobes, and the door to the en-suite bathroom. Against the wall between the bedroom and the living room was a desk and a chair, probably where Zain worked, and on there were large windows on the wall between the TV and the wardrobes.
Currently, Zain was in the shower, so I just walked around on the soft carpet, exploring the room. I had taken my shoes off before entering the room, because it seemed almost illegal to walk on this carpet with shoes on.
I sat down on the ottoman at the foot of the bed. I was once overexcited at not having to share a room with Misha, and now I had to share this gorgeous room from the pages of a magazine, with a man, my husband.
Speaking of the guy, he walked in wearing a towel around his waist, heading for the wardrobe. "So, Tara, my best friend, who just happens to be my Khalla's son, is in London. He was unable to attend the wedding, so he wants to meet up with me tomorrow. He'll be stopping by the house, and then we'll leave together."
"Your best friend and cousin couldn't attend the wedding?"
"Work." He shrugged. "Just as a heads up, okay?"
"Do you want me to act like a devoted, husband-adoring wife?" I grinned.
"Babe, you can't even act like that." He laughed.
"You know what? I won't!" I stood up, heading towards the wardrobe as well. Aunty had told me that she and Bhabi had set up my clothes in there, and that I could rearrange them as I wished. I grabbed a folded set of nightwear. I'd never seen this one before, but my mother had put a foot down as to not take any of my former night suits, as they were too 'childish'.
I began to walk towards the bathroom, when he grabbed my wrist. "Zain, leave me. I'm angry at you."
"Okay, sorry, yaar."
"Apology not accepted." I jerked my arm free and headed into the bathroom, smiling to myself.
****
"What the heck is this?" I stared at myself in the bathroom mirror. "Where is the rest of it?!"
I was wearing a marron pair of silk night-suit trousers, along with a matching silk tank top, with a low neckline.
"What's wrong, Trouble? Why are you talking to yourself?" Zain's voice came from the other side of the door.
I strode to the door and opened it. "I think rats chewed off the sleeves and the majority of the neckline of this shirt."
His eyebrows rose as he glanced down at what I was wearing. His gaze remained there for a few moments, before raising up to me. "Do you not know that in our culture it's forbidden to dress modestly when you're with your husband alone?" His voice dripped sarcasm, like how an ice cream melts and drips in direct sunlight. "Do they not even take married couples like us in consideration?"
"Married couples like us are rare, genius." I shook my head.
"You know what it is?" He shook his head. "This is all a conspiracy to get a baby into the family soon. That's the reason why this has been done for years and years."
"It's so weird that desi mothers are basically telling their daughters to seduce their husbands. Like, how disturbing is that?" I giggled at the weirdness of it all.
"You look good though." He said, genuinely. "That's an understatement, but I don't want to cross any of our unique relationship boundaries by saying something further than that."
"Fine, if you won't, I will. I look s*xy." I headed into the room and flopped down onto the bed. "Is it just me or is this the best bed in the world?" It wasn't too soft, or too hard. It was just perfect. Great, now I feel like Goldilocks.
"Everything in this room is new and renovated. Mum wanted the best for her daughter-in-law." With a smile, he sat down on the bed.
"It's perfect." I said, sleepily, turning on my side. I just wanted to sleep for hours now.
"Sleep well, Tara."
"You too." I muttered before the soothing arms of slumbers embraced me and pulled me into the world of dreams.
****
Zain
It was a dark. I couldn't see anything in front of me. I reached out my hand and I couldn't even see it.
"What the... where am I?" I asked. "Hello? Tara?"
"Most people in our lives are like stars. We may see them every day, and they are a part of our lives, but unless you're an expert on the subject, it's hard to distinguish the special and important star from amongst them." Tara's voice rang out around me, but I couldn't see her.
And just after she stopped talking, a tiny light made me look up and I saw it: a beautiful star. Although it wasn't enough to light up the place around me, I was able to see my own hand now. In fact, I was able to see my own appearance in a mirror that seemed to have materialised from thin air. Against the law of science, the light from one tiny star was enough to make me see myself clearly in the mirror.
"You're wrong." Was I talking to myself or Tara? "You are the special and important star, Tara. I can distinguish you from the millions of stars, because you're one in a million. I don't need a frickin' moon, Tara, because you're enough to guide me through this darkness. You're my star, my Tara."
****
I woke up, frowning and breathing hard. What the heck was that?
It was dark in the bedroom, and the only sound was of the hum of the air-conditioner. I grabbed my phone to check the time, and in the dim light, I realised that I was alone in bed, and our door was open. "Tara?"
Confused, I turned the lamp on and headed out of the room. "Trouble, where are you?"
I saw her slowly walking down the stairs and my heart almost jumped into my throat as I realised that she was sleepwalking. F**k! I followed her to ensure her safety, but did not make any sudden moves. You're not meant to startle a sleepwalker. "Tara." I whispered, gently. I stood in front of her, carefully grabbing her shoulders, as lightly as possible. "Tara, wake up."
Her eyes were open, but she seemed to be staring through me.
"Come on." I very carefully scooped her up and took her upstairs, back to our bedroom. "Wake up, Tara." Kicking the door close, I took her into the bedroom and set her down on the bed. "Tara, come on wake up." I patted her cheek very lightly.
And then she blinked. "Z-Zain?"
I smiled, shaking my head lightly. "Welcome back. See? Fitting name for you, Trouble."
"What happened?" She asked, groggily as she sat up.
"You were sleepwalking." I sat down properly. "You didn't tell me that happened with you."
"It doesn't..." She looked confused. "I've shared my bedroom with Misha, and she's a light sleeper. She would have known, but she's never said anything."
"Good God, Trouble. I need to handcuff you to myself every night."
She looked up at me and in the lamp light she looked small and vulnerable. She usually only wore eyeliner, and without it, she looked much younger.
"Go to sleep." I leaned forward and kissed her forehead. Regardless of everything, she was my wife and I cared about her a lot. "Just don't go walking down the stairs in your sleep now."
"You watch, next time I'm going to drive your car and then blame it on sleep-driving." She said. "You know, in extreme cases people can even drive a car while sleep-walking. I read it somewhere*."
*I got this information from the UK NHS website, so it's actually a fact. Shocking, I know!
"Thanks for the warning. I'll be careful where I leave my keys now."
"You're underestimating Tara Hamid." She narrowed her eyes at me.
"But you're Tara Zain now." I teased her. "Anyway, good night, Tara. We should get plenty of rest otherwise the jetlag might make us sick."
I made sure she was asleep before I fell asleep myself, just to make sure. The thought of her hurting herself while sleepwalking worried me.
****
Bhabi advised Tara to dress up well again. Apparently, Marina Khalla was coming with Amir as well. Although, Marina Khalla was possibly the coolest desi woman I knew, no offence to Mum. She had a laid-back and relaxed nature, and it was easy for everyone to get along with her.
I'd woken up before Tara and had showered and dressed. Wearing dark blue jeans, a navy blue shirt and brown shoes, I shrugged on a brown leather jacket and headed out for a quick trip to the office to collect some documents for Bhai.
By the time I returned, my better half was up and dressed, and damn did she look like good. Ma Sha Allah. She wore a maroon red chudidar with a long red kameez. There was an intricate gold design on the neckline, as well as on the hem. Her dupatta was delicate, red net with gold floral patterns stitched over it, and a red border with golden detailed design. Her hair was pinned back with a sparkling clip, with some of it resting over her shoulder, and she was just applying make-up as I entered.
"Rishtay wale aa rahe hain?" I teased her.
*"Are people coming to see you for a marriage proposal?"
"Yes, and you would be present there, right?" She rolled her eyes. "'Ladies and gentleman, I'd like you to meet the bride-to-be, my wife, Tara Zain'." She tried to imitate me, but failed miserably. "Can you imagine? A husband introducing his wife to her future in-laws?" She paused. "Who is coming, by the way? I mean, how many people?"
"Just Marina Khalla and Amir." I replied, standing next to her in front of the mirror to check my hair.
"Aap ke liye to rishta dekhne koi aa hi nahin sakta." She said, confidently. "So, no need to dress up well."
*"Nobody can come with a marriage proposal for you."
"They can come for you, but not for me?" I raised an eyebrow.
"Sorry, but I can't share my husband."
"And who says that I can share my wife?"
Our gazes locked, and there was an intense amount of chemistry between us that even I was unable to deny or ignore it.
"You look handsome, Ma Sha Allah." She said, her cheeks turning pink. "Now you look like Tara Zain's husband."
"And I don't normally?" My hand had a mind of its own because I reached out and twisted a lock of her hair around my finger, gently playing with it. "But thanks. You look beautiful as well, Ma Sha Allah."
"I think we revised for the Compliment Exam this time." She gave me a small smile. "We both have at least passed."
"Zain! Tara!" Mum knocked on our bedroom door. "Come on, beta. Marina and Amir have arrived."
"Shall we?" I smiled at my wife.
"We shall." She slid her arm through mine and we headed out.
In the foyer stood my favourite Khalla, and my best friend, along with Mum.
"Assalam Alaikum!" I hugged Khalla.
"Walaikum Assalam, Zain!" She pinched my cheeks, like I was six. She was a tall, stylish woman, with straight shoulder length hair and chic thick-framed glasses. Her gaze turned to Tara. "And you must be our lovely new Bahu, Ma Sha Allah!"
"Assalam Alaikum, Marina Aunty."
"Walaikum Assalam. Please call me Khalla, dear." Khalla hugged her, before waving a wad of cash over her head as a sadqah. "Zain, beta, give this to someone needy."
I nodded.
"She doesn't mean you. She means genuinely needy." Amir grinned as he hugged me. "Assalam Alaikum, brother."
"Walaikum Assalam. You're the same as always."
"Perfection doesn't need to change." Tall, with cropped black hair and tanned skin, Amir had always been popular amongst the ladies, but he was definitely not the playboy/flirty type. He'd never dated anyone, never had a girlfriend before. He turned to look at Tara. "It's good to finally meet you, Sana Bhabi."
I froze. Tara turned pale and Mum gasped. Mum knew Sana, but not the extent of our relationship.
"Beta, it's Tara. I told you. I don't know where you're getting 'Sana' from."
"Excuse me." Tara said politely, before heading up the stairs.
Amir looked at me confused, in a 'WTF? Please explain!' way.
"Amir must have misheard." Mum said, glaring at me. "Mistakes happen. Come on, Marina." She led her sister inside, but not giving me another Death Glare.
"What the hell, man?" Amir hissed. "Why didn't you tell me that you weren't marrying Sana? I haven't met her before! How was I supposed to know that you didn't marry her?"
"I told you that we broke up!" I whispered back.
"You and Sana have broken up three to four times since you started dating! How was I supposed to take it seriously, especially since it was soon announced that you were getting married!" He groaned. "Bhabi must have felt so bad. She must think that I couldn't even be bothered to remember her name."
"Tara knows everything about Sana." I told him.
He looked at me like I had started speaking Mandarin all of a sudden. "Come again?"
"I told her everything before marriage." I admitted. "She knows and she's helping me get over Sana. We're just married friends, that's all."
He frowned. "Well, judging by the fact that she knows everything, she looked almost hurt to be called by your ex-girlfriend's name. Are you sure that there are no feelings involved?"
I laughed, fondly. "It's Tara. And as far as I know her, she isn't the lovey-dovey type. As for me?" I laughed again. "Tara's a great friend, but I don't think I'll ever love her. I don't think that I can ever possibly love her."
F**k up Number 2, from Idiot Number 1. I said this just as Tara was coming down the stairs again.
Amir followed my gaze, but he didn't notice the hurt look on her face because by the time he turned to her, she'd composed herself. "Bhabi, I'm sorry. I messed up. I'm not intentionally a jerk, I promise."
"It's okay." She forced herself to smile at him.
"Tara..." I began to say, but she rushed off inside.
****
"Tara, listen to me." I found her in the kitchen.
As there were maids, around, I took her by the arm and led her out through the back door and into the garden.
"I'm sorry. That was a jerk move."
"You didn't say anything wrong though, did you?" She shrugged nonchalantly. "We're just friends...until your actual best friend came along, and then I was nothing but a laughing stock to you."
"That's not true, Tara. All I meant was that I don't think that I can ever love you because I..."
"Because you can't get over her?" She interrupted. "I get it. But whether you like it or not, Zain, I'm your wife. Yes, we're married on friendly basis, but that doesn't change the fact that our marriage is very much real. You shouldn't go around and talking about our personal issues with your friends, even if he's your best friend or cousin or whatever."
"You're right."
"I told Ashi as well. I told her that we're just friends, and she's convinced that I will fall in love with you, while I'm convinced that I won't fall in love at all. I didn't tell her about Sana, and I certainly didn't say to her that I'm not capable of loving you. Maybe it's just the way I'm built, but I don't think I'm capable of that romantic love that everyone always talk about. But I know how much I should and shouldn't discuss with even Ashi, even though she's like my sister."
"I f***ed up. I'm sorry, Tara. You're absolutely right."
She blinked, probably having expected an argument. But why would I argue when she was right.
"We're genuinely married, and some things should remain between a husband and wife."
"Good. Thanks for realising it." She muttered, glancing away.
"Just keep one thing in mind, Tara." I whispered, stepping closer to her. "I have my own issues, that's different. But there's nothing wrong with you. You're perfectly capable and deserving of being loved."
She scoffed. "It doesn't matter to me anyway. As long as our business stays between the two of us, I don't care."
I gave her a hug. "Are we okay?"
"Until you mess up again." She mumbled, hugging me back.
I chuckled and, for some reason, I didn't want to let her go. She felt just right in my arms.
****
Sana
I walked into Dad's office, almost sheepishly. "Dad, can we talk?"
"Of course, love. Have a seat." He nodded at the chair across his desk and he wrote something. "To what do I owe this surprise visit?"
"I want to talk to you about something very important."
"Sure, anything." He leaned back in his chair, linking his fingers together and resting his chin on them.
"I want to give up my inheritance." I bit my lip, nervously. "I don't want to be a part of this gambling business."
He sat up straight, frowning. "What do you mean? Why would you want to give this all up?"
"Because I love Zain more." I felt tearful as I thought of him. "And I'm willing to sacrifice anything for him, including my wealth and luxuries."
"You're willing to sacrifice your inheritance for a man that left you for a stupid reason?"
"His belief is not a stupid reason!" I stood up. "I love him and I want him back. I made a mistake. I should have chosen him, not this nonsense."
"This nonsense is my entire life!" He snapped, also jumping to his feet.
"And Zain is my life!" I argued. "I disown myself from all this. I love Zain, and this is the least that I can do for him."
****
What if Sana comes back into Zain's life before he falls for Tara? Would he leave Tara for her?
Thoughts and comments?
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