J A H A N - A R A was ecstatic to see Hoor. It had been quite a few days since her daughter had visited them. With Ali's death, the home had become empty, desolate. Her heart filled with a pain unlike any she had faced in her life before. To see your son pass away, in your hands, is trauma she would not even wish upon her worst enemy. Losing Ali had taught her to appreciate what she had. And she had a beautiful daughter, Hoor.
Jahan-ara, realised how foolish it had been of her and Jamal to belive a random woman, when they were the ones who had raised Hoor and knew the kind of person she was. Thankfully, their daughter was a kind hearted woman. Forgiving them the moment they asked for forgiveness.
As she stirred the ladle in the pot of sawiyan, she could not help but curse the virus that had spread. Hatred for the government also bubbling out. To her it was unnecessary to put so many restrictions. Her only child had refused to visit, for she was not taking any chances to infect her. While Jahan-ara was touched by the love she was being shown by Hoor, she was not really enjoying the loneliness. Her husband, proving to be a boring man, who had reduced himself to playing that age old snake game in his phone.
She smacked her lips, gulping a glass of cold water. Her maroon lipstick staining the rim of the glass.
"Jamal sahab, Hoor ka pata karein. Kidhr rah gai hain woh log?" She huffed.
Jamal sighed, he had just entered the home, bringing with him fresh, crisp and calories filled puri and halva.
"Ji begun pata kia hai. Bas pohanchnay walay hain," he smiled at her.
Jamal grabbed the plates that his wife had brought in her jahez, wiping them down before placing them on their dining table. Thankfully, it was a pleasant weather. Otherwise it would have been impossible to eat out.
Jahan-ara followed behind him, bringing the food out. Covering the dishes with lids to protect from any persistent fly.
No sooner had the elderly couple set the table, the bell rang. Signalling that their guests were here.
"Jain darwaza khol kar aain," Jahan-ara pushed Jamal.
Heading into their room to draw on her thin brows and ensure that the lipstick had not faded.
"Assalamualikum!" Hoor's excited and cheery voice sounded through their home.
Making her mother relived. The happiness in her voice a tell tale sign of how much peace and tranquility had filled her life.
"Waalikumassalam," Jahan-ara exited their bedroom.
Mustafa greeted her too, lowering his head allowing his mother-in-law to run her hands through his hair. Giving him her prayers.
"Chalo bacho, ajao pehlay nashta kar lo," Jamal smiled.
Jahan-ara had taken over Hoor, gushing about how beautiful she looked. Forgetting the fact that they had come over for breakfast, and not lunch.
"Han han jaldi aao". Jahan-ara pushed them to the table.
Codling over them like a mother hen.
The table was graced with not only halva puri and sawiyan but also qatlama and other oily foods. Hoor's stomach rumbled as her mouth watered at the sight of the wonderful delicacies.
"Chal Hoor, Mustafa ko daal kar do," Jahan-ara passed her a plate.
Hoor nodded, filling it up with chaaney and handing him one of the deep fried breads. She then served herself, beginning to gobble the food.
"Ammi ap ko itnay takaluf karnay ki kia zaroorat thi?" Mustafa inquired.
It was true that the parents of his dear wife had gone all out. It was a bit excessive, the spread that his wife's parents had laid out for them.
"Pehli eid par aai ho apni! Itna tou haq humein hai na," Jahan-ara replied.
Her voice sounding a bit offended.
"Ammi, Mustafa ka woh matlab nahi tha. Waisay bhi sahi keh rahay hain. Hum char log itna kaise kha saktay hain?" Hoor tried to calm her mother down.
Jahan-ara, knowing that it was useless to make this an issue, she brushed the topic off. Serving herself the sweet dishes, not caring an ounce about her diabetes.
"Hoor meray saath ana," Jahan-ara called her into their bedroom.
Hoor nodded, getting up, leaving Mustafa with her father.
"Ji ammi?" She inquired.
"Beta tum khush ho na?" She inquired.
"Ji ammi. Bohat ziada!" Her eyes glistening with happiness.
"Acha beta mein na tumhein kuch dena tha," she opened her wardrobe.
Jahan-ara grabbed a thick velvet pouch. Handing it over to her.
"Yeh lo". Her eyes urging her to grab it.
"Ammi yeh kia?" There were four gold bangles inside.
Hoor knew that her father had gifted these to Jahan-ara.
"Ammi yeh apko abu nai diye thay na?" She was still baffled as to why her mother was handing her these.
"Han betay, zindagi ka kuch pata nahi. Yeh rakh lo. Jab tumharay bachay hon gai na, unhe de dena!" Her tone leaving no room for dispute.
Meanwhile outside, Mustafa was trying to convince Jamal to let him install and A.C in their bedroom. Summers were approaching and the burning heat could not be an easy thing to withstand. He also had an ulterior motive. He did not want his wife to sit in the burning heat whenever she came over in the coming summer months.
"Nahi beta. Hum budhi hadiyuon ko aadat ho gai hai iss garmi ki," Jamal brushed it off.
The two spent the entire afternoon their, returning home at around four pm. After they had prayed, the two changed out of their clothes and got comfortable.
"Mustafa?" Hoor called out to him.
Breaking his reverie.
"Ji Hoor?" He looked at her.
Hoor narrated to him the entire incident of the bangles. Making Mustafa fall silent. Unless they consummated, it was impossible for them to have children.
"Hoor. Ap ko maloom hai na keh humaray bachay shaid kabhi bhi na hon?" Mustafa questioned.
To which Hoor nodded. Hugging him tight, as if ensuring him that all that mattered was that they had each other.
E I D D A Y 2 [EVENING]
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Hoor and Mustafa were getting ready to go over for dinner at Alia's. She had invited them over for dinner. Claiming that it was their first eid and also that she had an exciting news to share.
Hoor had opted to wear a white chiffon shirt, full of colourful zardozi and gotta. The sleeves, loose and had a chata of sitari. The shirt came with a dull lavender duppata and a dull golden masuri trouser. Hoor wore large dangling golden, white earrings and lightly curled her hair.
"MashAllah Hoor. Dar lagta hai keh kahin meri nazar na lag jaye apko," Mustafa smiled.
He was wearing a black button up with black slacks. Looking nothing short of royal.
"Idhr aain," he called her over.
Then asking her to bend, Mustafa circulated some money around her. Giving the money as sadqah to prevent his wife from any evil.
After their arrival at Alia's home. Hoor entered the kitchen to help her. From where, she was sent out once again. Alia made her sit with Mustafa smiling at the two.
"Ma baatein keh kia khush kahabri hai?" Mustafa asked.
The two had been curious since last night. Ever since Rehman's call had come.
"Beta, Raees ka Nikkah hai aglay mahine!" Alia happily told them.
The night was spent in cheerful conversation. Everyone happy with their lives. Mustafa sending out a silent prayer. Hoping that this happiness remained forever.
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