As the partition between them dropped, setting aside all thoughts, Murtasim's gaze couldn't help but drawn to Meerab's captivating beauty. Her crimson dress seemed to have been tailored to compliment her, an exquisite dance of color that captivated the beholder. The intricate golden embroidery on the fabric caught the light, bestowing upon her an almost ethereal glow.
Although Murtasim preferred her hair cascading freely, he couldn't help but appreciate the elegance of her loosely knotted bun. Yet, amidst all this resplendent beauty, a subtle void hung in the air. Her once-radiant eyes, now veiled by a shadow of sorrow, conveying a silent narrative of their own. The sight of her dimmed radiance tugged at Murtasim's heart, an ache of empathy that he couldn't ignore.
In that moment, Murtasim made a promise to himself. He was determined to do whatever it took to overcome any hurdles and bring back the joy that once lit up her eyes.
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After wedding ceremony had concluded smoothly, the weight of Murtasim's nervousness seemed to multiply tenfold now that they were back home. It was just him and Meerab – facing a new chapter together. His mother had handed him with the family ring, instructing him to give it to Meerab and explain its significance. However, Murtasim didn't want to burden Meerab any further; he decided to put aside the history tied to the ring for the moment. His priority was ensuring Meerab's comfort for now.
As he entered the room, he consciously worked to calm the tumultuous waves of his nerves. His gaze fell upon Meerab, seated delicately on his bed, emitting an air of fear and uncertainty. Murtasim's heart ached at the sight; he couldn't bear seeing her in such a state. Stepping forward, he carefully approached her, his mind struggling to form the right words. With his heart racing, he took a deep breath, clearing his throat.
In a voice that carried both sincerity and gentleness, he began, "Meerab, I understand this is a lot to take in. We've just met once before and now we're married. Everything feels a bit awkward, but we can work on finding our way. We'll take things slow because I know that it's all new for you as well as its for me."
The burden on his heart lightened a touch after finally opening up to her. He awaited her response, but silence greeted him instead. Confusion flickered across his expression. He called out to her again, yet received no reaction. Reluctantly, he extended a hand to her shoulder, an attempt to regain her attention, only to witness her jerking away from his touch. Respectfully retreating a step, he assured, "Relax, Meerab. I just wanted to talk; nothing more."
Meerab's anxious gaze settled on him as she tried to compose herself. Her words stumbled out, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to come across as rude. I'm just really tired."
Noticing her still clad in the weighty dress, he responded quickly, "Oh, yes, I apologize. You should go and change. This must all be quite exhausting for you."
As Meerab headed towards her suitcase to gather her belongings, Murtasim inwardly scolded himself, "Wow! Way to go! You've made her uncomfortable already." He sighed, discarding his heavy sherwani to ease his own comfort. With his head in his hands, he sat on the bed, grappling with his own thoughts.
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After entering the bathroom, Meerab's façade crumbled, and she finally let out the tears she had held back for so long. Painful memories of her life flooded her mind, and fear gripped her tightly. She was scared of this marriage and the type of man Murtasim might turn out to be. Lost in these thoughts, she didn't notice him entering the room.
With her mind racing through the worst scenarios, his touch startled her, and fear made her pull away. But when she met his gaze, concern softened his features. He apologized saying that he just wanted to talk. This instantly made Meerab regret her reaction. Apologizing, she realized that all she wanted was to find solace in sleep. Murtasim, showing his respect for her wishes, agreed to her unspoken request.
Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, she delicately wiped away the makeup that concealed her vulnerability. She, then gently, unclasped her jewelry and peeled off the layers of the dress that weighed heavily on her, as she moved towards the shower. Finally, cladded in the comfort of her pajamas, she came out of the bathroom, her nervousness hanging in the air. Her eyes found Murtasim, now relaxing in a comfortable kurta after discarding his sherwani, waiting his turn to freshen up.
"I'm sorry I took so long," she whispered.
"No, no, it's okay. I understand," he replied softly , his voice laced with sincerity.
Making her way towards the bed, she picked up a pillow, her thoughts shifting towards the sofa she had noticed in the room.
"Meerab, ummm.... where are you going?" Murtasim's voice carried a hint of confusion.
"I was thinking of sleeping on the sofa. I don't want to make you uncomfortable," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.
He countered, "No, that's alright. I don't mind. The bed is large enough for both of us. But if you're not comfortable sharing the bed, I can sleep on the sofa."
She hesitated, then said, "No, it's okay. I don't mind either."
"Alright, then. I'll freshen up," he said, excusing himself to the bathroom. Her discomfort had caused him unease, she thought as she silently scolded herself for her awkwardness. Swiftly, she slipped into the thick covers of bed, attempting to calm her racing heart.
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Murtasim had never truly understood the concept of awkwardness until the recent encounter with Meerab replayed in his mind. As he entered the bathroom, he took a deep breath, letting go of his nervousness. A smile tugged at his lips as he thought about how adorable she had looked. The faint blush on her cheeks and the subtle avoidance of direct eye contact—all of it stirred a flutter in his heart. Murtasim found himself confused by these unfamiliar feelings that had begun to bloom within him. He gazed at his reflection in the mirror, his own shy smile making him feel foolish, yet he couldn't shake it off.
Emerging from the bathroom, his heart raced as he spotted Meerab resting on the bed. Slowly, he eased himself onto the bed, choosing the farthest corner. He watched as Meerab shifted, a hint of concern arising within him that she might unintentionally slip off. Nervously, he spoke up, "Umm, Meerab, we could place a pillow between us if you're uncomfortable. You might fall off like this." He hoped his suggestion would reduce any unease she might be feeling.
Meerab's eyes widened slightly at Murtasim's suggestion, surprised by his thoughtfulness. She had been lost in her own thoughts, anxious about sharing the bed, and his consideration caught her off guard. Nervously, she nodded, her voice softening as she replied, "Yes, a pillow sounds like a good idea. Thank you."
She carefully placed the pillow between them, creating a small barrier that seemed to lessen the vastness of the bed. It was a simple gesture, yet it eased some of the tension that had lingered in the air.
Murtasim felt a mix of relief and contentment as he saw Meerab agree to the arrangement. The growing connection between them, laden with moments of awkwardness and vulnerability, felt both strange and reassuring. As the room settled into a quiet calm, he found himself hoping that this shared journey, with all its uncertainties, might eventually lead them to a place of comfort and understanding.
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The night slowly gave way to the gentle embrace of dawn. The room remained shrouded in soft hues as the first light of morning filtered through the curtains. Murtasim and Meerab had spent the night in their own thoughts, the awkwardness of the new situation hanging in the air, yet a sense of shared vulnerability bringing them closer in an unexpected way.
Murtasim stirred awake, his eyes fluttering open as he registered the presence of Meerab beside him. The pillow that had served as a divider between them was a gentle reminder of the reality of their marriage, but he brushed those thoughts away. As he closely observed Meerab, he couldn't help but notice how peaceful she looked in her sleep, her features relaxed, and the tension that had marked her expression the night before seemingly gone. There was an odd sort of a comfort on her face that made it hard for Murtasim to take his eyes off of her.
As the morning light continued to paint the room, Murtasim decided to give Meerab some more time to rest. Quietly, he slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb her slumber. He moved to the window, pulling back the curtains to let in the full morning sunlight. The new day seemed to bring with it a sense of hope, a fresh start to their shared journey.
As he turned back to the room, Murtasim's gaze fell upon Meerab, now awake, looking at him curiously.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you," Murtasim apologized.
"No, it's okay. What's the time?" Meerab inquired, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
"It's 9 am," Murtasim replied, glancing at the clock.
"Oh, why didn't you wake me up?" Meerab's voice held a hint of surprise.
"It's alright, Meerab. Breakfast is yet to be served, so we aren't running late," Murtasim reassured her.
"Alright then, I'll just freshen up," Meerab said, heading toward the bathroom. However, Murtasim's eyes were drawn to a box on the side table.
"Meerab, wait," he called out, picking up the box and approaching her. Meerab turned to look at him, her expression curious.
"My mother wanted me to give you this. I was supposed to give it to you last night, but it slipped my mind," he explained, handing over the box. Meerab opened it to find a stunning diamond-studded ring with stars on its ends and loops in the middle.
"It's our family ring. My mother told me to give it to you because it was passed down from my grandmother to my mother, and now that you're my wife, it's rightfully yours," Murtasim's voice carried a hint of shyness as he referred to Meerab as his wife for the first time. Meerab looked at him, feeling a blush rise to her cheeks at the newfound term.
"It's beautiful. Thank you," Meerab replied, a small smile gracing her lips.
"Well, you should go and get ready now. Oh, and don't worry about taking your time. I won't mind at all," Murtasim said, a warm smile on his face.
As the door opened, Murtasim saw Meerab that had changed into beautiful plum-colored anarkali dress adorned with intricate golden embroidery. She looked absolutely beautiful. The dress accentuated her curves flawlessly, and the color seemed to complement her complexion. Her hair cascaded down in loose curls, adding to her allure. In that moment, Murtasim couldn't help but marvel at how effortlessly Meerab seemed to radiate beauty in any attire she chose.
"Murtasim?" Meerab's voice brought him back to reality, and he realized he had been staring.
"Yeah?" he responded, averting his gaze due to embarrassment.
"You can go get dressed now," she stuttered, her words carrying a hint of nervousness.
They stood there for a minute, enveloped in a gentle silence, their gazes locked. Nervous smiles graced their faces, like fleeting sparks of shared understanding. Amidst the shyness that lingered between them, an unmistakable sense of potential and anticipation flowed through the air, hinting a connection between their newly formed bond.
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Arriving at the dining table for breakfast, they found everyone already seated. Mariam's smile offered reassurance to Meerab, who felt a mixture of nervousness and awkwardness. Her parents were present in the past interactions that she had with the Khan family, but now she was felt all alone. The idea of sharing a meal with people she barely knew was a daunting one. "Assalamu Alaikum," Murtasim greeted everyone. Meerab noticed his tone undergoing a subtle shift from warmth to seriousness. Following suit, she greeted everyone with an air of uncertainty.
"Wa Alaikum Assalam," Salma responded. Her gaze fixed on Meerab, her voice carried genuine concern as she inquired, "Meerab, did you sleep well? I know it must be difficult adjusting to a new place."
Meerab nodded, offering a small smile. "Yes, I was comfortable, aunty."
"Oh, well, no need for formalities. You should address me as 'maa begum' like Murtasim does. Isn't that right, Shahnawaz?" Salma suggested warmly.
"Okay, Maa begum," Meerab replied, her smile tinged with shyness. It was all so new to her, a whirlwind of unfamiliar customs and familial ties.
"Yes, Meerab, you're a part of our family now. It's time that you start to embrace our traditions as well," Shahnawaz chimed in, sounding characteristically authoritative. Meerab felt a slight twinge of annoyance at his comment, internally labeling it as a classic Shahnawaz move. She glanced at Murtasim, whose eye-roll at his father's words.
"Oh, this reminds me," Shahnawaz continued, shifting the topic. "Waqas and Anila called."
Meerab's heart skipped a beat at the mention of her parents. The unease that had been building within her seemed to surface.
"As we're leaving for Hyderabad today, they wanted to come over to meet Meerab, but I told them not to trouble themselves. Instead, you two can go visit them and bid them farewell," Shahnawaz instructed.
Murtasim turned his gaze towards Meerab, sensing her mix of sadness and uncertainty. He knew the weight of leaving her hometown and stepping into an entirely new environment and city was heavy on her heart. "Alright, we'll head over after breakfast then," Murtasim affirmed.
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As they arrived at her parents' house, Meerab couldn't bear to face them. The mere thought of laying her eyes on them sent waves of uneasiness through her. Their faces were now tainted with the memory of their hurtful words, words that had sliced into her like shards of glass all the time.
Murtasim's gentle knock on the door echoed in the tense silence that hung in the air. Her father opened the door. "Ah, you two are already here? Please, come in," Waqas greeted warmly, his arms immediately wrapping around Murtasim in a sincere embrace before turning his attention to Meerab.
Meerab found the sight of her father's smile nauseating. It was a smile that had once been a source of comfort, but now, it felt like a façade, a mask that concealed the truth beneath. "Meerab, my dear," Waqas began, his voice filled with an attempt at reassurance, "this house is feeling incomplete without you already." The words seemed to hang in the air, heavy and cloying, suffocating her with their artificial sweetness.
Suppressing an internal snort of mistrust, Meerab fought the urge to roll her eyes. Her father's concern grated on her nerves, a constant reminder of their conditional love. Her parents didn't even ask her for her approval, instead, they kept on painting a rosy picture of Murtasim, the 'perfect' match, just so they could unburden themselves of her and now they were acting like everything is normal? As if the storm of pain and distress didn't exist in her.
The casualness of their interactions felt like a cruel mockery of her emotions. Their attention, which she had once craved, now only fueled her resentment. She realized that their affection was tied up to her obedience, a delicate thread that snapped the moment she dared to assert her independence.
As she sat there, an observer in her own home, Meerab's heart wrestled with a mix of emotions. Resentment mingled with sorrow, frustration entwined with a growing determination. She yearned to break free from the chains of their expectations, to carve her own path and define her own worth. Yet, she wrestled with the reality that pursuing such freedom would lead to her abandonment. The thought of being left alone in the shadows of the world loomed over her, casting a cloud of fear and uncertainty.
Lost in these thoughts, Meerab was oblivious to the passage of time, only realizing that it was time to depart when the moment had nearly slipped away. As they exchanged farewells with her parents, her gaze caught her mother's eyes glistening with tears. Her mother's emotions tugged at her heartstrings, reminding her of the complex web of connections that bound them.
Her father's hug enveloped her, strong yet laden with an undertone of regret. "I'm sorry, Meerab," his voice quivered like a fragile leaf in the wind, carrying an apology weighted with the echoes of their clashes. "I hope that one day you'll find it within your heart to forgive." His whispered words reached deep into the crevices of her emotions, stirring a mix of longing and conflict within her.
Meerab's eyes welled with tears as she yearned for a different reality, where her family bonds remained untarnished by pain. However, fate's unyielding hand had shaped their paths already. Summoning her strength, she gently broke from her father's embrace, a lone tear tracing her cheek. Stepping into the waiting car, she held onto its edge, bracing against the turmoil within.
Beside her, Murtasim remained oblivious to the emotional storm that raged in her. Meerab took a deep breath, composing herself. As car departed, she left behind the home that was both a haven and a battlefield, carrying the weight of her emotions as she looked ahead with renewed determination to find her own path.
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As they pulled up at Meerab's parents' house, Murtasim sensed a visible hesitation emanating from her. He understood that Meerab was struggling with sadness about leaving her family, but there seemed to be an additional layer of complexity to her demeanor. Her interactions with her parents were minimal, a series of almost mechanical nods and short responses. She appeared lost, as though wrestling with an internal turmoil. It pained Murtasim to witness her struggle, but the boundaries of their newly formed relationship held him back from offering immediate solace.
While Meerab accompanied her mother to the kitchen, her father turned to Murtasim, his voice carrying a mix of apology and sincerity.
"Murtasim, I understand that there is gap in understanding between you and Meerab, all due to Shahnawaz's wish to have the wedding as quickly as possible," Waqas began, his eyes reflecting the weight of his words. Murtasim's annoyance towards his father's decisions lingered beneath the surface, but he listened as Waqas continued, acknowledging the impulsive choice that had shaped their lives.
"Your father and I made this decision without asking you two first, and for that, I apologize. Adjusting to this sudden change won't be easy, especially for Meerab. She's carrying the burden of my hasty decision," Waqas admitted, his sincerity visible. He implored Murtasim to comprehend Meerab's perspective, highlighting her innocence and the challenges she had faced. Waqas spoke with a fatherly concern that resonated deeply.
"Please take care of her. She's very dear to me, the only one I have," Waqas's words were infused with a plea, and Murtasim felt the weight of his responsibility intensify. Waqas's candidness struck a chord as he continued, sharing his hope for their happiness and unity. "Trust me, Murtasim, there might be moments where her point of view might be difficult to understand, but her intentions are always pure. I am trusting you with my daughter's heart. This is more than just a request from you father's old friend; it's a father's plea. I hope you both are able to find your paths to each other's hearts on day," Waqas concluded, his voice laden with a mix of emotions.
Murtasim felt a mix of determination and a sense of duty. He recognized the difficulty that lay ahead, the intricate journey to Meerab's heart. "Uncle, please don't think of this as a request. I am here as your son, committed to caring for her. I will ensure her happiness with every ounce of my being. The chaotic circumstances may been confusing to us, but I promise to bring joy to her life for as long as I live," Murtasim responded, his words charged with a genuine understanding of Waqas's concerns.
The gratitude in Waqas's eyes mirrored his relief. In that moment, he felt grateful to have Murtasim as son-in-law. He truly did understand the importance of relationship that made Waqas believe that Murtasim's earnestness would eventually win over Meerab's heart. "Thank you," Waqas acknowledged, touched by Murtasim's commitment. Murtasim knew that the path ahead was unpredictable but he was steadfast in his resolve to make this relationship work, convinced that the effort would be worth it one day.