"I am surprised at the sales figure in the last two months. I had a hunch but not by this much percentage," Muhammad eyebrows knotted in concentration as he studied the line graph displayed on the laptop in front of him.
Seating opposite to him was Salman who also scanned the figures at the Microsoft Excel sheet, "Yes Abou it seems that the new marketing campaign worked out well."
Muhammad slowly nodded in thought, "You are right son. Wait till I tell this to Abba. He will be very pleased to know how much progress has happened in just mere two months since you took over as the Chairperson."
Salman slightly flustered, "Abou, it wasn't only my effort. The whole team worked hard. And above all, you, Taya sahib (uncle) and Chacha sahib had guided me throughout this new campaign."
Muhammad stood up from his office chair and walked around his desk, putting his hand on his son's shoulder, "I have great faith in you my son. You will take this company through unparalleled heights of success inshaa Allah."
"Inshaa Allah," muttered Salman.
Muhammad's mobile phone ringtone echoed in the room diverting both men's thoughts. Salman glanced at his father's phone, his mother's picture was displaying that indicated she was calling. He grabbed the phone and answered it, "Salaam ammi."
"Walaikum salaam beta. Are you with your father?" Perplexed Seema asked.
"Yes we were discussing some matters. Here talk to him" Salman nodded and gave the phone to his father and stood to leave to give Muhammad privacy.
He smiled when he heard his father call his mother with his special endearment, "Assalam u alaikum Simi jaan."
His parents were an exemplary couple. Even decades after being married, they would show affection in ways Salman had never seen other older couples displayed. There were many random days when Muhammad would gift his wife a bouquet of her favourite flowers when he returned from work. Or every evening, his mother fussed around the dresser to apply makeup just before Muhammad arrived back from work. Salman had always seen his mother greet his father dressed nicely and with at least kohl or light lipstick on. Muhammad's eyes would always lit up seeing his smiling wife foregoing the day's hard work and stress.
Sighing, Salman entered his office and looked out the window that overlooked the majestic Wicklow Mountains. His eyebrows furrowed thinking would Nawal be that kind of wife where she would try her best to please him. He knew he would do everything in his power to just bring a smile on her face. There was a strong protective streak within him. She was too innocent and volatile ready to plunge in all kinds of danger. He had to suppress his urge to gather her in his arms and protect her from the harsh world around them. But he was helpless right now. She was only his cousin and he had certain limitations.
A smile slowly lingered on his lips as he thought of how she had asked him to become her friend again. He had to make a decision fast and talk to his mother about his intentions. He had enough of waiting. He didn't need to wait any longer.
His hand fisted.
Would Nawal agree?
****
Tapping his fingers on the steering wheel as the car waited on the traffic light, Salman called his mother. "Ammi, do you want me to bring anything on the way?"
"Yes I needed milk. And ummm... ya that's about it." Seema responded tentatively after thinking what groceries were immediately at need.
It was in the evening around 6pm and Salman was making his way back home from a hard day at work. It was the early winter evenings where the sun had set ages ago and it was dark but the holiday season lights were lit on the street brightening the mood on this gloomy winter night.
When he reached home with a 3 litres milk bottle in his hand, Manal cheerfully greeted him in the kitchen where she was busy helping their mother with the final preparations of dinner.
"Assalam u alaikum bhaiya. How was your day?" she greeted lifting her head from the chopping board.
"Walaikum salaam. It was good. The same really." Salman said as he picked a slice of cucumber from the salad bowl.
But before he could raise it to his mouth, Seema hit his hand with a wooden ladle making the cucumber slice fall in the salad bowl again. Manal picked the cucumber slice and went to wash it. Seema frowned and said, "How many times I have told you to wash your hands as soon as you enter home?"
Salman sheepishly smiled and leaned forward to kiss his mother's cheek, "Ammi I am tired. I know my manners I am not a six years old anymore."
She placed her hands on her hips and remarked, "Well you are acting like one."
Salman chuckled, "And you are the most beautiful mother ever." Salman's statement made Manal giggle.
Seema narrowed her eyes, "Stop buttering and go wash up. Dinner is nearly ready."
"Okay okay I am leaving. Geesh I come home to find peace and my mother is hitting me." Salman muttered.
"It's for your own good." Seema called out as Salman stepped out of the kitchen.
Shaking his head in amusement, he walked to the staircase that led to his bedroom when the ajar door to a downstairs bedroom caught his attention. There on the leather chair sat his Dada jaan reading a book. Adil was wearing his reading glasses and was immersed in his book that he didn't notice his grandson stepping into his bedroom until he greeted him.
"Dada jaan, Assalam u alaikum"
Adil's eyes lifted from the book, gazing above the reading glasses that was perched at the corner of his nose. He then smiled in greeting, "Aaah my son is home, Walaikum salaam. Come here."
Salman went up to his grandfather and bowed his head. Adil then cradled Salmna's face in his old wrinkled hands and kissed his forehead. His gaze flickered at Salman's facial features and he spoke gently, "Your father has praised you a lot. I am very pleased with your efforts my boy."
Salman's cheeks slightly coloured, "Dada jaan please, I am not solely behind all this success. The company worked hard."
Adil faintly shook his head and said, "My heart says you will reach immense success inshaa Allah."
Salman pulled back and loosened his tie, "Inshaa Allah Dada jaan. Now I better wash up before I get another scolding from Ammi."
Adil chortled, "Oh yes she loves giving out to you, doesn't she?"
Salman rolled his eyes, "Tell me about it."
"But you are her ladla beta (beloved son)."
"I am not going to argue on that. I don't want to hear anymore lectures tonight." Salman teased good-naturedly.
Half an hour later, at the dinner table, praises of Salman's achievement were still being narrated which made Salman very uneasy.
"Abou please. I don't want to talk about work now." He groaned.
"The boy is right Muhammad." Adil said breaking off a small piece of his roti and scooping a chicken piece with it.
"Well I have been thinking now that you have settled down with work and mashaa Allah becoming successful it is time we look for a girl for you." Seema announced.
Salman had stilled on his plate when he heard his mother. Never had there been any discussion or even jokes about his marriage. This is the first time, his mother had said it openly. He slowly swallowed the food that was stuck in his throat and grabbed the glass of water to gulp down its content.
"Yes Ammi. I want a bhabi at home now." Manal replied with a cheeky smile and eyed Salman.
Muhammad quietly chew on his food and then stated, "There is this girl in my mind." He glanced at his father, "You know Abba our business associate Mr Yahyah, I am thinking of his daughter Zara."
Adil took time to respond, "I don't like Yahyah's family."
Seema was encouraged and so gave her opinion, "I think Zara is very snobbish. I want a more cheerful and friendly girl for my Salman."
"Everyone please you are all embarrassing me now." Salman grumbled discarding the food contents on his plate.
"I have a suggestion actually." Manal winked at her brother, "What do you think of Nawal, Ammi?"
Mortified, Salman's eyes widened. He had a fair idea that Manal knew about his feelings for Nawal. But that didn't mean she can outright say it in front of the whole family. He was about to reprimand his sister when Seema voice obliterated all his thinking process.
"I have been thinking of Nawal for a long time as well." Seema mused out loud.
Salman's heart beat accelerated. First the family discusses marriage and then they direct the talk to the girl who never seems to leave his mind. He started fiddling with the small left over roti piece on his plate, contemplating how to answer and not look so eager as well.
However, Muhammad eyebrows creased and his facial expressions changed considerably, "I don't like that girl at all. She is too immature. And what is she? 18 or 17? She is too young for Salman."
"She is 19 and she will mature up easily. You will see. Besided there will be only around 7 years difference between them." Seema said in a calm tone.
Muhammad started shaking his head, "No no, a wife for Salman should be responsible and take his side as the wife of the Chairperson."
"Enough. It's the poor boy's decision. You all are giving your own thoughts. Let him decide after all he is the one who is going to live with the girl." Adil face turned to Salman, "Beta what do you have to say?"
Salman was embarrassed and confused. His parents had their conflicting views and now his grandfather was asking for his opinion. He couldn't just cry it out loud his inner most feelings out of respect to elders and so he decided, "I haven't thought of marriage yet. Inshaa Allah with time I will think about it."
The elders nodded in agreement while Manal said under her breath and kicked him under the table, "Liar."
Salman nudged her arm and glared at her. She had created enough trouble as it was. Manal's shoulders shook in silent mirth. She dared not look at her brother and resumed her eating.
****
Later that night, the house was quiet as the older men were asleep. Manal was in her room studying and Seema was watching a Pakistani drama serial on the television at the living room. Salman sauntered into the living room and saw his mother applying balm on her feet. He sat beside her and gently held her feet in his hands and placed them on his lap.
"Is it hurting?" he murmured as he started pressing her feet.
"Yes beta your mother is getting old." she exhaled tiredly.
"Don't say that. You are still young. People think you are Manal's older sister not her mother." Salman reproached her softly.
She chuckled, "It is fact of life that I can't run away from. I am getting old and you my son are a handsome young man." She patted Salman's cheek lovingly. She then resumed watching the television and Salman quietly pressed her feet until the drama serial was over.
"You never get tired of pressing my feet, do you?" she asked gazing her son with love in her eyes.
"No not really."
"Manal only presses for like five minutes and then she gives an excuse about something and runs off."
He chortled, "Next time make her do it and I will sit and supervise her."
Seema softly laughed back. And then she sobered, "You do know that Dada jaan has called for a family gathering on Sunday in honour of his coming back from Hajj."
He raised an eyebrow, "Really? I didn't know." He ran a hand through his hair, "I guess I had been very busy last week to really notice what was happening at home."
Seema bit her lip and then spoke in a worried voice, "Daud will also be there. I just hope he doesn't create a scene."
Salman's jaw clenched, "No Ammi he won't. One thing I know of him well is that he will never try to tarnish his reputation in front of many people."
"I hope so, son." She whispered.
As Salman made his way back to his bedroom, he pondered. He hadn't met Daud since that day when he had walked out of the company. There was no news of him. Apparently Taya sahib also didn't know much about him. Salman had sincerely thought of him as an elder brother. But Daud misunderstood Dada jaan's decision of appointing him as the chairperson. He would have never snatched the position from Daud. To him, it didn't matter and in fact he had been astonished as indeed Daud was the more experienced and worthy of the position. However, he couldn't argue with his elders and had accepted the position. He had never contemplated Daud's reaction. Such animosity against him.
But why? It just didn't make sense.
There was a light knock at the door. Salman knew exactly who it was at this hour. Sitting on his bed, he said sternly, "Come in."
Manal peeked through the slightly opened door. Warily she spoke, "Bhaiya?"
Salman glowered and waved his finger indicating for her to come in the room. Manal gulped and reluctantly stepped into the room. She better say it and get over it, with that thought, Manal breathlessly said, "I made your life easy by suggesting Nawal's name. I know how you feel about her."
Salman eyes widened. He wasn't expecting her to say it all out. "Manal there is a way to speak about these matters. Especially not in front of the whole house."
"Sorry," Manal said sheepishly.
"I am letting you go off that easily," Salman said smugly.
"Aaaahhh, what do you want me to do this time?" She groaned.
"Clean my room for the next one week." He smiled triumphantly.
Stepped back in astonishment, Manal crossed her arms over her chest and huffed, "No way!!!"
Salman shrugged nonchalantly, "Have it your way then. Next time, when you get into trouble I am not going to take your side."
"Fine fine I will do it," she muttered and shoulders slumped left the room.
Salman chuckled softly once the door closed again. He had the best sister ever.
****
Early next morning, the phone was against Seema's shoulder and her ear pressed to it as she scurried around the kitchen making breakfast for everyone.
"So Baji, you and the family are coming?" She asked inserting the bread in the toaster.
"I don't know Seema, it seems that it is a family event. We would be intruding." Ghazala responded.
"Oh no Baji, Abba jaan has always thought of you as his daughter and has specifically asked for you and the kids. And do tell Faraz and Shahbaz. I will be busy with the preparations." Seema assured her elder sister.
"Ok I will. Inshaa Allah I see you this Sunday then?" Ghazala said.
"Yes inshaa Allah" Seema muttered as she concentrated in flipping the omelette on the frying pan.
After saying her goodbyes, both sisters completed their chat. Just then Salman entered the kitchen. "Who was that?" he asked and eyed the kitchen table where there were no plates yet. He went to the kitchen cabinet and started taking out plates.
"Baji. I invited her, Faraz and Shahbaz for Sunday." She responded placing the omelette on a large platter.
Salman nodded and stated setting up the kitchen table.
"Maybe I should talk to Baji about Nawal." She winked, "What do you say?"
Salman felt his cheeks warming up, he unsurely rubbed the back of his neck, "I... don't ... know."
Seema paused in the act of taking out the milk bottle from the fridge and stared dumbly at her son, "Does that mean I have your approval?"
He averted his gaze and said, "As you wish" and stepped out of the kitchen trying to calm his thundering heart.
He heard his mother called out, "Then inshaa Allah I will make Nawal my daughter in law."
A smile slowly grew on his face.
****
Late afternoon, the marketing department manager solemnly entered Salman's office and handed a special report. For the next few minutes, there was silence as Salman reviewed the contents of the report. His eyebrows knotted in concentration and as he continued to read his frown deepened. His lips twitched in disapproval.
He finally looked up and gazed at Mr Raza eyes, "What does this mean?"
Mr Raza nodded curtly, "Exactly how you feared."
Abruptly, Salman stood up from his office chair and turned to the glass wall that overlooked the southern Dublin landscape and the tall green mountains. He stuffed his hands in his pants pocket and clenched his jaw.
Daud wanted revenge, was it?
He scanned the scenic view. His mind going over everything.
He will meet fist for fist. An eye for an eye.
Let the game begin...
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Glossary:
Abou – father
Bhaiya – older brother
Taya sahib – uncle (Father's older brother)
Chacha sahib – uncle (Father's younger brother)
Baji – older sister
It seems the animosity among cousins is reaching a new level where Salman has entered the game. Who wins and who lose.... We will know very soon............
Where hearts will bleed,
Trust will be shattered,
Victory will eventually be achieved.
Something for you to ponder upon *wink*
Please vote and comment... that will really encourage me to update fast.
Until next,
Assalam u alaikum warahamtullahi wabarakutu.