💎 Z A Y N 💎

By incognitoxwriter

42.2K 1.6K 1.8K

The Ahmed Trilogy Book One Can be read as a stand-alone .•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•... More

INTRODUCTION
01
02
03
04
05
06
07
08
09
10
11
12
13
14
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
EPILOGUE

15

798 47 69
By incognitoxwriter



'Forever Young' - Blackpink

Unedited

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"You look lovely, stop worrying unnecessarily," Malikah said to Syra, after she checked her appearance in the mirror for the billionth time.

She was wearing what her mother wore when she first met her father, a traditional maroon Panjabi shalwar kamees with matching kuseh, jhumkay and a plain chudiyan set on each hand. She thought she looked like those village girls in Pakistani dramas. (Shalwar kamees are the official clothes of Pakistan, but worn across South Asia. Consists of a shirt with slit in the sides and trousers).
(Jhumkay are a type of earrings worn by Desi women that kind of have a dangly dome shape) (Chudiyan are bangles)

She wore her scarf the way she did when she had at the dawat at Zayn's house, but in maroon, to let her earrings show. She wore her maroon dupatta on her shoulder, letting it dangle in the front and back. She decided to just stick of concealer for makeup, her hands shaking too much to do the rest. Bas, she thought, get a hold of yourself, Syra. (Enough).

Malikah and her hurried downstairs and into the kitchen, that way they could eavesdrop when Zayn and his parents came over. Syra would join them later with tea. She cursed at the one who came up with such a tradition in her culture - she was definitely going to drop it, most likely on Zayn.

The International event was finally over, just in time for the Christmas holidays. She knew if this wedding commenced she'd either get married during these holidays, or the half term during February.

Butterflies raged in her stomach at the thought of being married to Zayn. She could barely remain composed in his presence with others around and in her full hijab, what would she do when she's alone with him? The thought made her blush, best not to get too ahead. She was nervous about taking off her hijab, being comfortable with him, but she was sure that would come with time. She was thankful she had an older sister, so she had heard her experiences.

Wait - if they were not living together, that would mean that she would keep her virginity? Syra did not want to dwell on that thought - she had always wanted a big family but thinking of the pain of losing your virginity, being so intimate and vulnerable, left her with mixed feelings. She was a little scared; but who was not at first. Malikah had been the same, she had said to just be yourself and let the relationship flow and you will relax and be comfortable. Besides Syra had other things to think about.

The doorbell rung loudly, informing Syra and her family of her soon-to-be-in-laws arrival. Saleh went and opened the door and welcomed them inside. She heard his mother's cheery voice, the booming tone of his dad and the low tone of Zayn. She shivered. God damn. Malikah wiggled her eyebrows at Syra, who rolled her eyes in return.

"Put the chai on the chula, on halki aanch. I must go to meet them." ordered her mum before rushing out the door in a flutter of colourful silk. (Tea), (Stove), (low heat).

Syra grabbed two small hollowed saucepans and put them on the stove. She poured out milk enough for about ten cups: her parents, his parents, Ilyas, Saleh, Zayn, Hamza, Malikah and herself. She put in the needed teabags, elaichi (cardamom), star anise and a few other flavourings into the brew and stirred it a little before lowering the heat and letting it cook.

"Abba is legit grilling him. So is Saleh and Ilyas keeps on adding stupid comments here and there. His dad sounds like he's trying to hold on his laughter, and his mum is too cheerful to notice. Amma is tryna keep Abba in check, lmao. Your man's pretty patient though," Malikah reported.

When Syra just nodded she added,

"Your mans fit though. Like really. I know I'm older and married but I ain't blind. You got one fine man there sis. Tell him that, okay?"

"Yeah I'll be like, 'rah, you look leng, styll', hmm? All Pakistani boys have such big egos it hurts. I'm sure he knows it already though." Syra burst out, her nerves getting the best of her.

Malikah cackled aloud, not stopping until Amma burst through the door, throwing a sandal at her arm. She begun scolding Malikah - apparently they could hear from that room etcetera. Malikah whined something about being a mother herself so she was excused from such a scolding before her mother just gave her the stink eye and left. Syra just kept checking the tea, wanting it to be perfect.

"Put some poison in Ilyas and Saleh's tea while you're at it, yeah? They won't shut up," grumbled Malikah.

Syra was tempted.

"Stop chatting baqwaas. Seriously is your brain filled with poosian?" Syra muttered the last part. (Nonesense), (Cow shît).

"I heard that, chudail-" Malikah's comeback was cut short by Ilyas' arrival. (Witch).

"Come on, Syra. They're calling you inside. Malikah will bring the chai once it is done; Amma knows you are nervous enough to drop it," he announced, softly smiling once he recognised the clothes his sister was wearing.

The two walked out and crossed the hallway. Syra took a deep breath outside the door, trying to calm her nerves.

"You won't exactly hear me say this often, but you look very nice, Syra. Obviously because you share my genes but still," Ilyas tried lightening the mood.

Syra laughed a little, glad for the distraction. Then Ilyas opened the door for her and she headed inside.

Inside her parents sat on the sofa on the left. Opposite them was Zayn between his parents. Saleh sat on the sofa between them towards the back of the room, facing her. She went and shook hands with his mother, making sure to keep a good distance from Zayn. She didn't look at him; she felt too shy ever since her confession at the art competition. She didn't look at anyone else until she had comfortably settled herself between her brothers.

"Assalamualaikum," she said aloud, mostly towards to his dad and to Zayn. Both responded respectively.

"How are you, beta?" asked Asfandyar Uncle.

"Alhamdulillah, good, how about you?" She replied.

"Alhamdulillah, as well."

Her father spoke up next,

"Beta we were just talking about arrangements,"

He looked to Zayn, who begun explaining,

"Well as we are still very young and still dependent on our parents, we are still living with our parents. There's no point in registering ourselves right now - yes we can legally get married past the age of sixteen, but the paperwork is a lot more hassle as they still require parental consent. So we can for that until we move in together, probably when we are financially stable. And we came to an agreement that over weekends, you come and stay in our house, there are guest rooms,"

The look on Zayn's face showed her he clearly had no intentions of letting her use the guest bedroom. She thanked God again for her brown skin, preventing her blush from being noticeable.

"That's great. I don't have a problem with any of that," she mustered as confidently as she could.

"Well, that's settled then. Now when shall we set the nikkah date?" asked Shereen Aunty.

This was all moving so fast, yet Syra could not feel any more impatient. She wanted to just skip to her married life, but also wanted to enjoy her wedding functions.

"I think on 28th December? That way they still have a little time to be settled before the holidays end. And we need time to prepare, and the pre-wedding functions, hena Parveen?" (Isn't it) said Shereen Aunty.

"Bilkul," came the reply. (Absolutely).

"Then it's settled," announced Abba, smiling.

They continued discussing wedding plans and arrangements as Syra pointedly ignored Zayn.

Malikah brought in the tea then, quickly talking her leave so she would not have to pour it out for everyone, ultimately leaving that job for her. Syra was tempted to call her back but she had made some excuse about going to her sons. Sneak.

Syra stood up and poured out everyone a cup, asking everyone how much sugar they each wanted. She handed it over to Asfandyar Uncle first, then Shereen Aunty, then Amma and Abba, then Ilyas ans Saleh and finally to Zayn. He had a look on his face as if to say really? As she approached him and slightly bent down to hand his cup and saucer he murmured quietly just so she could only hear him,

"Just wait till the nikkah. Then I'll show you the consequences for ignoring me like you're doing,"

Syra almost did spill the tea on him from shock. Zayn quickly grabbed it, sending her the smallest of smirks before masking his expression. Syra stepped back, face aflame, insides giddy at his words. She tried to remain neutral, fully aware everyone was looking closely at her and Zayn's interactions.

The rest of the chat passed with a self-satisfied smirk on Zayn's face and Syra struggling to hold in her reactions.

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It was late evening. Syra was in the attic laying down on the floor next to the sleeping forms of Husna and Anayah, staring up at the sky through the clear roof. It was one way so no one could see in. Her most favourite part of her house. She came here to think. If it wasn't too cold, she would climb up onto the flat part of the roof with her sleeping mat and lay down, gazing up at the sky.

Amma had been up here with Husna and Anayah so Syra had joined them. Malikah had come too, once she'd settled Hassan and Hussain to sleep. A girls evening. Her mother chatted with Malikah about wedding clothes and events as she did malish (massage) with oil in her hair and braided it. Soon the conversation drifted to Syra.

"My bachi is all grown up now," sniffled Amma. (Girl)

Syra knew her mother would get emotional, even though she still wasn't leaving the house yet. When her rukhsati did happen, Syra knew she herself would be bawling her eyes out. She wasn't really a crier; she'd just sit and stare at the wall when upset or angry. But leaving the house she grew up in already made her sad. Jheez, Zayn better be worth it.
(Rukhsati is the wedding function where the bride officially leaves her parents house. People always cry and stuff. It's a desi tradition).

"Amma, I'm not leaving this house," replied Syra.

"Phir bhi, tum shadi shuda aurat bano ghi," (But still, you are going to be a married woman).

"It hurts every woman the first time. But only a little. If it hurts more there could be a problem-" begun Malikah before Syra cut her off.

"No please. Please. I'm not living with him,"

"But you will be on the weekends, hm?" put in Amma.

"Guest room, remember?" Syra answered.

"Both you and I know big man had no intention of letting you in the guest room - unless he's with you," snickered Malikah, coming to lay down next to Syra.

Their mother joined them, cradling Syra's head on her lap, stroking her hair.

"Beta, it's nothing to be ashamed of. Being alone with him will lead to this. He's a good guy, he will never force you but in worst case scenario if he did, uski zindagi wahi peh khatam," assured Amma. (His life ends right there).

"Amma, I'm just - how am I going to be able to trust him. It's not because he's bad, but it's a very close and emotional things. I don't know if I'll be able to handle it," Syra confessed.

"Dehko Sia beta. Allah made such a union only permissible between a husband and wife for a reason. He will cherish you, respect you; in the Quran it says many things. Like how spouses are a cover for each other; God has placed love and mercy between spouses; how we are created in pairs; how good men are for good women and many more," (Look Sia dear)
(Allah means God in Arabic. What Muslims and Arab Christians/Jews call God. It means the same thing).

"You also know that the Prophet judged a mans character based on how he treated his woman, his family. And he also said the strongest aren't those who have the most physical power, but those who can control their anger the most so it's not only applicable to men. But us too," Malikah added, being serious for once in her life.

Syra was quiet for a moment and then spoke,

"I find it so beautiful you know. How God has already chosen our destined soulmates long before we even existed. That he made two soulmates to match each other, to complete each other. Like we all want a good partner, but that don't necessarily mean they'll be good for us, as a human. And if it doesn't work out, it's a test. Allah doesn't burden us more than we can bear."

Her mother and Malikah hummed in agreement.

But of course, Malikah could only be serious for so long,

"So when am I going to be an aunt? Hopefully not too soon. Being a teen mom is hard. Unless you still want an army of kids - you gon have to start now. But we do have twins in our family so -"

She was stopped short by Syra flicking her forehead; hard. Amma laughed softly, also scolding them for being too loud with Husna and Anayah sleeping.

Syra cherished moments like this. She imagined herself like this one day, too, with her little girls. The thought warmed her heart; she had always wanted to be a mum, and a young one at that.

Maybe not now though.

She wondered what Zayn was doing.

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So Syra is basically me in this chapter. Minus the meeting the future in laws bit. I know when I meet my soulmate imma be making a big pint of not looking at him at all, ignoring his existence.

I hope my mans a little narcissistic to match my sarcastic personality. And we should be able to have cuss battles without either getting offended. And he gotta match my humour. What about you lot. What do you look for in a partner?
2420 words.

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