TH E next morning, the sun shone bright. Its rays scattering all of the horizon, covering everything in its path with a gold halo. The clear skies, gave a beautiful view of a vivid blue sky, lightly stroked with a tinge of pink. The bright day, an imagery of the moods of the inhabitants of the city Lahore.
With the end of October approaching, the temperatures had begun to fall the slightest. Giving a hint of the moassam-e-sarma that was heading their way. The sunny day was welcomed warmly, it was a stark contrast to the gloomy days that had covered the lively city in it is dark cloak.
In a small street, in the old walled city of Lahore a girl with wild dreams slept. She was a dreamer. Asleep and awake, her mind did not stop. Her imagination was vivid and that translated to the clothes she sew. Something that could rival any mainstream designer.
Hoor slept peacefully. Dreaming about a man, whose lower torso she could not see, but he seemed to be walking towards her. Surrounding them was a huge garden, filled with greenery and flowers. The smells attacking Hoor's nostrils every passing second.
"Hoor aap tou meri jaan ki dudhman ban gai hain," the unknown man spoke.
"Aap hain kon?" Hoor asked, baffled by his statement.
"Arey yeh kia zulm hai? Aap nai dil chura lia aur humme janti bhi nahin? Arey hum tou woh khush kismat insaan hai jiska naseeb aap sai jur chuka hai!"
The man turned around and left.
Hoor woke up. Startled. She was a bit shocked by her dream. It was the first a man had visited her dreams. Perhaps it was the effect of knowing she getting married in a few weeks. Sighing, she grabbed her duppata and headed out of her tiny bedroom. Heading up to the roof to wash her face.
Stepping out of the washroom, Hoor stopped on the small, empty roof. Taking in deep breaths to calm her overwhelmed self. Looking at the calm skies, she smiled.
"Allah meri zindagi bhi aaj keh din ki tarah khubsurat ho," her heart prayed to its Creator sincerely.
"Ameen". A heavy voice sounded from behind her.
"Baba," Hoor turned around startled.
"Ji haan mein. Chalo aao, akar nashta kar lo," Jamal told Hoor, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.
The duo walked in complete silence, enjoying the moment of complete bliss.
"Aja Hoor. Beth apni maa keh pass. Aaj mein tujhe apnay haatun sai khilaun gi," Jahan-ara shouted as soon as she saw her precious daughter enter the baramda.
"Jaisa aap chahein ammi," she said, taking a seat out next to her mother.
Her mother tore a piece of bread, wrapping a piece of fried egg which was covered in the warm, golden yolk. Hoor took the bite, moaning at the taste of her ammi keh haath ka nashta.
"Wah ammi. Kia kamal ka banaya hai!" Hoor winked at her mother.
Who chose to ignore her and instead fed her the scrumptious food.
"Baba shaadi mein takreeban panch haftay baaqi hain. Jahez na sahi par hall tou book karana hai. Uskay paisay kahan sai aai gai?" Ali inquired.
His father glared at him. It was a known fact that Hoor was concerned about their families financial situation and so they had hid the extent of savings Ali had splurged on his gambling. For which the loan sharks were still waiting.
Sighing, Jamal replied "humaray pass zindagi bhar ki kamai hai. Sab ho jaye ga".
Seeing the atmosphere become serious, Jahan-ara changed the topic.
"Hoor beta tiyaar rehna. Tumne aaj Rizwan aur Mustafa sahab keh saath apni shaadi ka saman lenay jana hai".
"Mustafa sahab?" Hoor was confused to hear that her father's boss would be accompanying them.
"Han. Woh Rizwan keh bhai ki tarah hain. Isliye saath jaye ga". Jahan-ara replied.
"Ammi magar mein akeli?" Hoor questioned. The shy girl inside of her beginning to surface.
"Beta mein jaati magar mein itna chal nahin sakti. Isliye akelay hi jana paray ga," Jahan-ara shrugged.
Hoor only nodded silently, having no other option.
A T T H E O F F I C E
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Jamal entered the accounts office for the first time on a day other than the pay day. Everyone inside the department was shocked. Jamal had been a part of the company for ages, the man had never asked for anything. And had never held any greedy wishes for which everyone respected him.
Jamal walked up to the receptionist.
"Assalamualikum, Riaz sahab sai milna hai," he inquired about the head of department.
"Jamal sahab woh farigh hain aap ja saktay hain," the kind receptionist smiled at him.
Jamal thanked her, before he walked off to the medium sized office of the man who handled the loans and was the head of the accounting department as well. Riaz Lone.
Knocking on the glass door, Jamal waited for a reply.
"Aajain," hearing the almost instant reply from the other side, Jamal walked in.
"Arey Jamal bhai kis tarah ana huwa? Bethain," Riaz smiled.
"Ji sab theek hai. Darasal loan chahiye tha," Jamal sat himself down before speaking.
"Ji ji. Waja bataiye," Riaz hid the shock that he felt at Jamal's request.
"Woh neti ki shaadi hai isiliye chahiye," Jamal replied with a smile.
"Mubarak ho. Theek hai Jamal bhai mein apply karta hun. Jaisai hi approval aai gai hum check de dein gai," Riaz explained.
Jamal thanked him and left the office. Feeling happy that he could now get his daughter married without any trouble.
R A N D O M M A L L I N L A H O R E
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Hoor walked inside the large building feeling conscious about herself. Everybody else was dressed in western outfits or highly modern eastern clothes. Making her feel inferior about her own. She had opted for a blue frock with a chudidaar having draped a printed cotton-silk shawl on her shoulders to cover her head.
Rizwan had introduced her to his best friend, Mustafa. Upon seeing him for the first time she was shocked. But as time passed, she began to get used to his differences. He was after all a human like them. On meeting her, Mustafa had not judged her instead he had treated her like a complete gentle man which further increased the good image of him in her heart.
They had been to a few shops already. Having selected the outfit for their baraat. Now they were roaming around, looking for something for the walima. Hoor's feet were hurting but she did not want to rain down on Rizwan's parade. The man seemed to be full of enthusiasm.
Finally they entered a luxurious looking bridal showroom. Hoor looked up at the name. Trying to read the english letters.
"T-t-h--" she tried to read to herself.
"Threads and Motifs, dhagay aur huliya," Mustafa smiled at her, as she turned around to look at him.
"Shukriya," Hoor replied shyly.
Mustafa brushed it off and all three of them entered the large showroom. And as if it was meant to be, they found the dress withing fifteen seconds of them entering. Hoor gave her size and the trio left. On the way back, the two men insisted to treat her to dinner however Hoor refused, claiming she wanted to eat at home with her mother who was all alone.
I N T H E C A R/ A F T E R H O O R
W A S D R O P P E D
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Rizwan turned to Mustafa who was in the passenger seat.
"Did you see her? Now do you understand my frustration?" Rizwan asked Mustafa, who in return did nothing but smile.
"Yes I see your frustration. Your father chose for you a kind, beautiful and compassionate woman whom you refuse to accept. Uss mein aur tujh mein farq waqai mein bohat hai. Par itna bhi nahin keh shaadi keh baad guzara na ho sakay," further continuing, "par Rizwan dekho tumhein tumharay faislay ka poora haq hai. Aaj hi uncle ko sab bata do".
Mustafa sat silently after Rizwan hummed to his advice. He thought about the fragile girl, Hoor. She seemed to have struck a cord in his heart. Her shy self and the over enthusiastic learner made him want to protect her. Shield her and give her all that her heart desired. He tried to suppress his feelings. For the wonderful woman was engaged to his childhood best friend. And he did not want to ruin their friendship.
Deep in his heart though, Mustafa silently thought of what would have happened if he had met her sooner. He would have sent a proposal sooner than later. But now he was stuck, looking at her become his bhabhi.
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