He looked at her once more, she said something to her brother and Hufaiz turned around to look at Moutasim. Even though he tried not to make a fool out of himself standing there, staring at her, there was that static again. That sparkle in the air that's always happened whenever she got within a foot as himself.
He thought if he stood there even a second longer, he'd be electrocuted to death. She had become prettier than before, her straight chestnut hair almost touched her waist now, and she had lost all that chubbiness from teenage.
One thing which pricked his eye was her indecent dressing style. She wore off-white capris; ending just below her knees, a teal blue tank top, a navy infinity scarf dangled loosely around her neck, and had brown leather flat pumps on with a matching handbag.
He then looked over at a figure in black, from head to toe, even her face was covered, it got him puzzled. Arshiya?! He guessed with astonishment and chuckled at the stark difference between the two sisters. He really did lose track of each other's lives, obviously, it had been about three years since things were normal.
Riya had gone in, followed by Arshiya, while Hufaiz gave Moutasim some doubtful looks and then entered inside.
But hadn't Riya always dressed this way? Why do I feel so weird about it now? Maybe because she isn't a little girl anymore, she should be dressed modestly...
The loud horn interrupted his self-reasoning and he jogged outside the iron gate. A black Silverado pickup truck waited for him. Two guys came out of the car, took off their sunglasses and shook Moutasim's hand.
He asked them, "All good?"
"Pretty good." One of them replied with a smile.
"Okay then, I'll call you when I need you."
Moutasim added, "I'll text you the address for the hotel."
They both nodded and got into the car, immediately driving away the truck. When he came back inside the mansion, everyone was gathered and seated in the huge fancy-looking foyer, meeting the three of them. As vintage as that mansion looked from the outside, its interior was oppositely modern and styled to cutting edge. Luxurious Persian rugs were spread on glossy wooden floors.
Plush beige leather sofas printed abstract cushions to fill in the comfort and matching curtains billowed over large windows. The windows took up the entire three-dimensional square panelled walls with only shiny steel girders to divide them into another window.
The ceiling that canopied yellow spotlights were scattered across. A magnificent chandelier hung in the middle, crystal stems branched out holding bright lights, tiny glass beads were stringed around each lamp.
A fireplace was built into the empty white stone wall, over it was a richly carved cedar mantel, an exquisite glass clock stood in the middle and two crystal vase with daisies on either side.
The corridor at the right opened to an Italian style kitchen, with it connected a wide dining room which had a glass sliding wall overlooking a beautiful fruit orchard in the backyard. At the back of the kitchen was a small staircase that went down to the servant quarters. On the parallel side of the passageway, were a couple of bedrooms, one belonging to the Head of the family.
A grand staircase cornered the hall leading up to the bedrooms, where Arshiya sat on the lowest step, not wanting to sit among men who weren't mahram for her. They all were fully aware of her strict adherence to Islam, so none of them objectified to her or her practices. While Radmaan, who was only six, was very curious to find out who was behind that veil. He tried to tug it off and Arshiya laughed keeping him away.
Riya and Aleesha took off to their chatting as soon as they saw each other, "Aleesha, my goodness! Look at that pre-marital glow on your face."
Rather than getting flattered, Areesha gibed, "C'mon Riya, I just had a visit to the salon." They both giggled.
Riya's uncle Alam Zeb, his wife Roshina, and five children; Shahzar, Aleesha, Wisam, Aahil and little Radmaan, lived there along with her grandfather; Sohrab Nufail Jahangir, whom they all called Agha Jaan.
A servant walked Agha Jaan and sat him down on a sofa, and Riya dashed into his arms. It was no secret that she was Agha Jaan's most beloved granddaughter. Despite her menacing and rebellious personality, he adored her to bits, and she loved him back. That was a different thing altogether that she counteracted with his nature. He was the man of his own principles, a solid backbone of the Jahangiri clan; what he uttered had to come true.
Everyone made sure they obeyed him, except Riya of course, no pun intended, she was an exception for him. It sometimes irritated some of the family members, what they thought was Agha Jaan's double standard; a rule made for everyone was never imposed on Riya. She could do whatever she wanted to do and she left no stone unturned for this given grant.
"You look so weak Agha Jaan, what's wrong?" Riya asked him out of concern.
Agha Jaan kissed her forehead "Now that my darling is here, I'll be all fine."
Hufaiz too exchanged hugs and kisses from Agha Jaan. When Arshiya came forward and hugged him, he pointed at her covered self and remarked laughingly, "Look! There's a terrorist in our house!" Everyone laughed at that, but Riya didn't quite take in the joke.
"Agha Jaan, I think there are far more real criminals in here." She glanced at Moutasim for a second, who was standing against the wall, a little away from where everyone was.
"What are you talking about Riya?" Agha Jaan asked, not having a clue about anything.
"Moutasim..." Arshiya pinched Riya's arm from behind the sofa where she stood and shot daggers with her eyes for her to stop telling anything to Agha Jaan.
Another servant walked in carrying a tray set with glasses of rose sharbat, she put the tray forward to serve Agha Jaan, but he gestured towards Riya instead. She refused as her brain was charring high.
Agha Jaan's attention diverted towards him at the mention of his name, and he inquired, "Moutasim? Why are you standing all alone over there? Come here."
"I don't think some people will like the idea, Agha Jaan." He glanced at Riya and then looked away.
"Well... what kind of people?" He asked, still confused. He further added, "I'd say if anyone has a problem with you, hunt them down." He chuckled.
"You mean, kill them?" Moutasim asked, amusingly, picking a glass of sharbat when the servant served him.
"Yes, straight in the head. Like this, fwoop!" He beamed, pointed two of his fingers at his temple and then blew them as if he shot for real.
"Err... Agha Jaan, as much as I'd love to do it, but I don't think you'd leave me alive after that," he smirked, his eyes not leaving Riya's over the rim of the glass while he took a sip.
She had her arms folded at the front and gave that look as if she'd chew him up right then and there. With a dead straight face, she sneered, "Then make sure he isn't left alive, Agha Jaan."
Hufaiz just sat there, listening to them, whereas Arshiya held her breath with fright, praying in her head, Ya Allah please don't let Riya or Moutasim create a scene.
Agha Jaan gave out a loud laugh, still not clearly aware of the indirect verbal firing between the two, "No killings, beta. I'm just waiting for the whole family to get together. When is Zar Wali and Kashmala arriving, Riya?"
To Arshiya's ease, the conversation had automatically taken a different course; she let out a sigh of relief.
In place of her sister who was soaring wild at the moment, Arshiya replied for her, "Mama and Baba will be here a couple of days before the wedding, but I don't know about Aunty Kashmala."
"They're coming next week, Agha Jaan." Moutasim acknowledged.
He groaned, "I had asked Zar Wali to take a longer leave and spend some time with me, God knows how many days I've left..."
He trailed off when Alam Zeb, held his hand, "Please don't say such things, Agha Jaan. May Allah give you a very long life." Agha Jaan smilingly patted his hand in return.
"You all must be tired, why don't you get some rest until dinner is served?" Roshina suggested, and then called a servant to take their stuff up to the guest rooms.
Arshiya quickly rushed upstairs to pray 'Asr, as it's time was about to end. Hufaiz was out with the boys and Riya had so much to catch up with her cousin; the bride-to-be.
They talked while strolling in the foyer until Aleesha's mother called her, "You go and freshen up, see you at dinner."
With Aleesha gone, she took the stairs to go to the guest room. Pausing on the landing between the two staircases, she looked over to the wall full of family photo frames and single portraits. Right in the centre was Agha Jaan's huge framed picture; it was taken about ten years ago. He looked quite young and healthier than what he was now. Even though his deteriorating health was making him weak, nevertheless, at seventy-eight, he was still handsome.
Riya looked over at her grandmother's picture, she had passed away a couple of years back, fighting an illness which eventually did take her life. And then there was her eldest uncle, Faridun Jahangiri, his wife Zarmina and their son Bahram; they were killed in a car crash twenty years ago.
Ever since then, Agha Jaan's health had slacked down over the years, he had lost dear ones in tragic calamities after all. He rarely spoke about his son and his family but had forever hidden his sadness behind his grey eyes which were always full of life, and his humour which amused everyone.
She looked at some more pictures of her's and her cousins from childhood, smiling at how adorable they all looked. She spotted Moutasim's tiny picture, wearing nothing but a diaper and held a ball over his head, giving out his big wolf smile. Riya couldn't help but smile herself, Was he born shameless or what? Pondering she turned around and continued with the rest of the stairs. On that floor, there were about five bedrooms, all used up by Alam Zeb and his children.
There was also a terrace viewing the front garden and through the terrace was an elevated glass walkway bridging the guest wing and the mansion. All its sides were made of glass, and a staircase led down to a round swimming pool which could also be seen through the upper layer floor.
She was about to step in it when Moutasim came out of the walkway. He moved aside to give her some way and simultaneously she slid opposite him, it was unintentional, duh. When she moved aside, he moved too. It went on for about ten seconds until he broke the awkwardness, completely stepped aside and gestured towards the way, not looking at her even once.
"Don't you dare cut my way." She hissed at him.
He responded calmly, "Not in a lifetime."
"Really? What were you just doing?" She reprimanded with her nose in the air.
"What if I say the same thing?" He quibbled.
She asked impatiently, "And that is?"
"You're the one cutting my way!" He exclaimed.
She fumed, "NOT in my freakin' mind!"
Raising his eyebrow, he mocked, "Do you have one?" He left throwing a jiffy glance at her puffed up face.
"Idiot!" She shouted after him.