"I can literary hear the poor suitcase screaming, Ma! Let it be. I already have so many gifts packed for Allah knows who all. You can keep that color pencils set, all the yarn balls in thousand different colors, stupid empty journals, scrapbook supplies, instax, all the latest models of a dozen Macbooks, iPads and iPhones, away. I don't want custom officers to mistake me a smuggler of some sort. I have not pushed myself out of the box to end up in jail, Ma." I try and plead for the umpteenth time but my mother dearest was having none of it.
Initially, I had decided that a duffel bag and a carry on would be enough to store my bachelor things. But I was proven wrong with every shopping trip we made and all the things Ma ended up buying.
Everytime she'd pick up a jumper, a shirt, a watch, a fragrance, she would name a male relative of hers that would want whatever thing she laid her finger on. It was the same, if not worse for the women in our family from what Layla whined to me about. She was stunned to see Ma raid every makeup store and leaving it with a handful of shopping bags.
Lipsticks, eyeshadow pallets, dozens and dozens of eyeliners, mascaras, perfumes, body butters, shampoos, as though Hyderabad was a village under a rock with no internet or link to the outside world.
I could bet my life on the fact that Ma has not left any place she has not visited. Every time she'd pick up a bag, she'd name the never ending list of her female relatives. Or that one name I've heard her take over hundred times everyday like a tasbih.
Muskaan.
'Oh, Muskaan would look stunning in this.'
'Muskaan will like this.'
'Asra phuppo told me how she loved to journal--- is passionate about photography--- wanted to be an artist growing up-- always wanting to help others.'
Hence the journals, color pencils, instax. Heck, I was even carrying cat food in my luggage because this Muskaan lady loved cats.
I've never been the jealous type, given the fact that I am the only child to my parents. But looking at the way Ma is practically gushing and getting all teary eyes at the mention of this Muskaan lady, truth be told, insecurity is not all that unfamiliar to me anymore.
She is not sad I am going away, but she is readily tearing up for someone she probably hasn't seen in a decade or so. If not more.
"Chalo, done!" Ma let out a puff of air after successfully zipping up my 2 luggage. She gestured me towards her with her hand and that's when I realized she was practically sitting on the suitcase so it could zip without doing a lot of chu-chan as she says. A soft chuckle leaves my mouth when I grab her hands and place a kiss on each of her knuckles before helping her down. "Put these away, and join us down stairs."
I do as she says, and lift the over weight bag off the mattress and roll it towards the door. No desi parent likes to be told their bag is over weight especially when they have bought all the things on their own for their loved ones back home.
Taking a final look around my childhood bedroom, I make sure nothing is left, not that I would have the choice to take it with me looking at the extra luggage I have then head downstairs. My flight was only 5 hours from now and we should leave for the airport in 2--
I jump in my place when a pair of party poopers are blasted in my face. The confetti flying around me.
"SURPRISE!" I take in the beaming faces of Ma, Papa, Khalu & Khala, Jalal, Majid, and a whole lot of people I considered as family gathered.
"Oh my God!"
They part like the red sea for Layla to come through them with a cake in her hands and a big smile on her face. I let out a breathy laugh, doing a show of wiping my imaginary tears.
"You guys! I'm so overwhelmed." I say, because I truly was overwhelmed and the water in my eyes was actual tears of joy.
"Surprise," Layla whispered, her eyes glinting behind the lit candles that cast a golden glow on her baby face.
The lot of people gather around the dining table where the cake was placed. Cheers and hoots boomed as I slice my knife through and cut a piece. But, before feeding anybody else, I stuff it in my mouth, flashing the awaiting faces a wicked grin. The crowd let's out a collected half chuckle half groan because this is how I do it. Every single time. Before going around and feeding the piece of cake to everyone present in the house.
We have dinner together, for the last time until Allah knows when. Whatever little time I had left went in chit chat, people congratulating me and wishing me well for the new project.
I was out of shower, pushing my feet into the trousers when I heard a knock on my bedroom door. It must be Papa asking me to hurry up, I think, and hastily pull down the grey polo shirt down my head.
"Haan, papa, I'm ready-- Ma?" I pause, not expecting her at the door.
"Ready bache?"
"Yeah," I say, and step a side for her to enter the room. "Did you need anything?"
Ma let's out a sigh and plops down onto the bed. I grab the towel I had hurled on the Mattress only seconds ago and begin to rub my hair dry with it. My gaze falls on the wrist watch, reading the time then looking at my mother who clearly had something to say to me.
I just hope she was not going to get emotional. I've had my dose of goodbye tears and simply couldn't take anymore. But, she was my beloved Ma.
"Ma," I call softly, sitting on my knees on the carpeted floor and take her flair hand in mine. "I'll miss you." I say with every ounce of honesty in me and plant a kiss on her hand. Because I had absolutely no idea when I was to see her after today.
She smiles, getting all teary. "I'll miss you too my laal." She said, running a hand through my hair. "I'll miss you very much."
"Not more than me, though." I joke.
"You don't wanna get me started on my 'Ma Ka Pyar' monologue." She warned.
"I won't mind, really." We share a chuckle, and I watch a foreign emotion cloud her face.
"Bete," she started but went quiet again.
"I'm listening," I prompt her, resting my head against her thigh.
"I want you to get married,"
"Hmm,"
"To Layla."
"What?!" I shoot up at her words, utterly horrified.
"What?" She blinks at me, clearly confused by my outburst.
"Why would you--" I start but realize the door was open and tune my voice lower. "Why would you want me to get married to Layla? Layla?"
"Kiya kharabi hai iss baat me?" She countered. "You've known her since she was kid, spent half your life with her already. Baki jo bachi wo bhi uske saath guzarlo."
"But, Ma--"
"You know her, she knows you, more than me sometimes and I'm so proud of that. I wouldn't mind having her as my bahu. I treat her like my bahu half the time."
"What?!"
"Of course! She is the only girl in your life who you've accepted and let inside your mind. I can't tell you how much joy seeing you two together gives me."
I shut my eyes, wanting to plug my ears at her bey-huda words. I wish I had a time machine so I could go back 5 minutes and prevent this scene with her from happening. I really wouldn't mind listening to her monologue instead of this.
"What is wrong with your face?" She demands, making me open my eyes and look at her again.
"Your words are the reason behind my face." I say trying to not sound menacing. She opens her mouth but I beat her to it. "Ma, I do want to get married. But not to someone I don't love."
"But you do love Laila. I've heard you say it so many times."
"I say I love you to you and Papa and Khalu and Khala and Nana and Nani. Should I marry them all?" I snap, regretting it the next second. "Ma," I start softly. "I've never seen Laila in that light before. Ever. And I'm sure she has not either. What we have between us-- our bond-- is unique, I know. And I'm sorry, but, it's not what you think it is."
I was blessed with a moment of silence. A brief moment of silence.
"You have not seen her that way, but you can now." I let out a groan. "And how are you sure she has never thought of you that way? Have you had this discussion with her before?"
"No! I--"
"You're going away for some time and I feel this is the perfect time for you to take your future into consideration."
"Maaaaa!"
"Bete, you have to get married. And you're turning 29 soon anyway. Think about it. Think about Layla."
Choosing those to be her parting words, she gets to her feet, pats me on the shoulders, and exits my room leaving me to drown in the pool of dilemma she managed to create for me in a handful of minutes.
The sound of papa yelling for me to hurry up boomed inside the house. With an elaborate sigh, I get to my feet toss whatever was left in my carry on grab my passport and leave my room. As soon as I get downstairs, I make my way to my grandparents and bid them farewell, followed by my Aunt and Uncle. When I get to the door, a hand wraps itself around my wrist and stops me.
"What?" I frown at look Laila gave me. "Aint you coming with us?"
"No." She whispered. "Can't see you walk away from me like that." She chuckles, obviously joking. But the heated gaze coming my way from Ma wanted me to believe otherwise.
Laila gets to her tiptoes and loops her arms around my neck. I reciprocate the embrace, my gaze meeting Ma's as Laila proceeded to utter the words in my ear. "I wish you all the luck there is in the world and I hope you are successful in everything you do, Moozy."
We stay like that for a second longer than I had anticipated. And the tears that I saw in her eyes stunned me into silence. "My gut feeling tells me you're not going to be the same person you are when I see you next time. That this is not an ordinary trip, it's going to be a life changing one for you."
"Hey," I wipe the stray tear away with my thumb. "I'll always be your Moozy."
The words felt void, forced even.
"I'll miss you." She confessed, pressing her lips to my cheek so lightly I thought I was imaging it. But the unmistakable words that followed later sent a jolt of wary through me.
Laila pulls away with a smile and joins the rest of my family. But I couldn't take my eyes off her even as Papa passed between us and out of the front door. Because what she's said to me I could never think in my wildest dream.
'I love you.'
Its not like she has never said the word to me before, or to anyone else for that matter. But there was something in the way she did this time that led to my stomach churn. Or maybe it was the after effect of my not-so-great chat with Ma.
Guess only time will tell.
🫂🫶🏻
We've found 1 angle of the triangle. Will discover the other two as the story unfolds.
Judey rahiyea humare saath next chapter ke liyea.
Love y'all. 🫰🏻