Make sure to add his first lady into your libraries. Go vote and comment if you haven't already :)))
I've already posted a new chapter today :)
Okay this chapter has slight family drama too so that's gonna be good I guess.
Sassy Anaaya is slightly back cause why not right?
Point of view changes and stuff too.
Late night update cause why not
Hope you guys like it :))
Here you go.
--
Anaaya.
As I put on the dupatta around my neck and saw Aira laying down on the bed, I went forward to pick her up.
She squealed at me, and my heart felt lighter than usual. In the middle of all this grief of losing Uncle Shafqat, this ball of happiness really lifted one's mood.
"Good morning, love. Ooo, someone's excited." I murmured, kissing her cheek as she giggled.
Abaan on the other hand jumped off from the bed, and groaned in hunger.
"Mama, breakfast?"
"Yeah, we are gonna go downstairs and then you guys can have breakfast."
He nodded, already ready to go downstairs.
"No, Abaan. You have to change first."
I pulled out a kurta that Hiba had gifted him, as I helped him wear it over his head.
"Mama?" His face was pulled in a pout. I looked at him, confused.
"Yeah?"
"When we going home?"
"Soon, baby." I whispered.
I missed home more than usual. This was home. Pakistan was home. All the luxuries that we had there, we had here as well.
But in Newyork, it was just us. Our family. The children weren't used to so many people, Abaan was missing his school and I wanted nothing more than to go back and start working.
"Why? You miss home?" I asked him, pushing his hair away from his forehead.
"Yeah. And Maggie. I miss Maggie."
"Me too. But we have to stay here for a while. For your daadi."
I told him. He nodded in understanding.
He was my most understanding boy. The kindest one with a big heart.
"Okay? Good boy."
I was about to brush my entangled wet hair when Rania entered my bedroom without even knocking.
I sighed and looked at her, Zayaan walked at my side and I stared at my sister in law for an explanation.
Hadn't she taken him downstairs for breakfast about an hour ago?
"Bhabhi, he won't eat." She said with an annoyed expression on her face.
I shook my head and kneeled down, with Aira still in my arms.
"Zayaan, what's the matter?"
"Rohaan didn't say anything and he's simply eating with bhai but-" As Rania talked, I decided it was better if she took Abaan with her instead.
She had been such a huge help to me, looking after these devils wasn't an easy job.
"It's okay, just take Abaan with you."
As she left the room with my oldest, I looked at Zayaan.
"What's the matter?"
"Nothing." He mumbled, putting his thumb in his mouth. A habit that I had been wanting to change for a while now.
"Nothing? Okay do you not like the breakfast?"
He shrugged but I knew that was the case.
"Yeah?"
"What do you want then?"
He pulled out his thumb from his mouth and pondered for a moment.
"Nap cakes."
I laughed.
"Pan cakes." I corrected him, then held his hand as I switched off the lights and closed the door, entering the living room.
The door to Azlaan's bedroom was open, I hated that they had moved in our portion of the house but Hassan had a bigger heart than me and I didn't mind it at that time.
Now, it kind of bugged me.
"I don't think Aziz bhai knows how to make that, Zayaan. How about coco puffs?"
I told Zayaan, knowing it would take alot of time to make the batter and then cook them too.
"Okay!!"
He obviously agreed happily.
I was almost at the stairs, avoiding Maliha, who was inside the room closest to the stairway with Uncle Shafqat's sister.
But the giggling and the words caught my attention. I wasn't one to eavesdrop but I couldn't help myself.
"I mean God, we know you live in Newyork but shut up about it already. Like have you seen the way she talks to the children, aunty?"
I realised that she was talking about me.
And here I thought this kind of drama didn't happen in our family.
"And they are so spoiled!! She won't even yell at them. It's so annoying."
I looked at Zayaan, who was growing impatient. I put a finger on my lips, indicating that he needed to be quiet right now.
"Haan, mere bachey hote to ek thappar maarti, seedhe ho jaate."
(If they were my kids, I would have smacked them)
This was the voice of Hassan's phupho. The evil spawn.
I would like to see you try bitch, you touch my kids and you'll lose your fucking hand.
I wanted to go inside and say those exact words, instead I decided to simply stay quiet and listen first.
"Wohi toh. And this isn't a fashion show? She's wearing new clothes everyday?"
Her tone indicated jealousy. But why? About what? Her parents lived in Chicago. She was born there but had to come back to Pakistan when she turned twelve. She lived with her grand parents after that. And even they were filthy rich.
Then why? What was the point?
"Haan, aur wo bhi designer. And the lipsticks. Tobah."
Clearly my nude lipsticks were a bigger issue than Phupho Surraiya's son's theft case. Ofcourse.
I looked at Aira and panicked when I felt a wail coming from her.
"Aira, sshh." I put a hand on her mouth and moved her back and forth.
I could hear Maliha's voice even more clearly now.
"Also what's with the cheap flirting with Hassan bhai? Always holding his hand, looking at him, putting food in his mouth? What the hell?"
Damn.
This bitch really had observed everything.
Hassan was my husband. I could do whatever the hell I wanted. If people wanted to gossip, they could gossip with logic atleast.
"Poora khandaan baatein kar raha hoga."
(All the relatives must be talking)
"Ofcourse, aunty. And why not? She's giving them a chance to do so."
Maliha was younger than me, but her thinking was more narrow than my mother in law's.
"I don't like her picking up Ahil either. He's my son, just keep your hands to your children."
"Can I say something? You know what I think? Now that Shafqat bhai is gone, Hassan and her have their eyes set on family property."
I gasped at that.
For real? It had been three weeks since his death and they were already discussing property? For real? Blood rushed to my ears in anger.
"Yesterday, Hiba was telling me that he had written Anaaya's share in the family property too. Why though? Hassan has his share, why Anaaya?"
I smiled at that.
I remembered when Uncle Shafqat had told me about this. I had informed him not to do it, but he had insisted.
Have I not proved to you that you're my daughter too? If they get a share, then so do you.
His voice still rang in my head. He was so special.
"She was the best at flattering him! Newyork se bhi gifts bhejti thi. Har waqt calls, ajeeb."
Bitch I would send them to you too. What a skank.
"And I'll talk to Azlaan, this property should be his. He's the one who worked on the business. Hassan bhai did nothing."
I knew no matter how much temper issues Azlaan had in the past, he was a changed man now.
And he loved his brother more than anything.
So did Hassan.
Azlaan wouldn't just steal away Hassan's property.
Besides, I knew for a fact that Hassan wouldn't ask a penny out of the business, even if it was written in the papers that it belonged to the both of them.
He wasn't interested. It was his right but Azlaan had worked hard on it too.
"You have to be careful of her as well. She's not as innocent as she looks. She'll want to take your place."
"Wo to abhi se start ho gayi hai. Aur naukar bhi Anaaya baji Anaaya baji lage hue hain."
(She has already started doing that. And the servants also chant her name only)
I couldn't take this anymore. I knocked on the door. I wanted to lash out. I wanted to hit them. I wanted to yell at them.
But I knew it would only create a scene.
And creating a scene in a house that still mourned death? It was pathetic.
As soon as the duo spotted me, they stood up. Their nervous exchanges didn't go unnoticed.
"Hi bhabhi, Come." Maliha greeted me with a nervous smile.
I smiled back, tightly.
"How are you?"
"Good. Just took a shower." She told me.
I knew she hadn't. She was too busy bitching about me.
"And you aunty? How's your joint pain now?"
"It's getting better." She replied, gulping.
"Good. Well, I have to go downstairs." I informed.
They nodded eagerly.
"Okay, we'll be right behind you." She said back.
I nodded. I was almost at the door again when I turned around.
"Just one thing, Maliha."
"Hmm?"
She gave me another large smile. I gave her a smirk instead.
"Bitching is not classy, sweetheart."
Knowing the fact that they both now, knew that I had infact heard them, it was enough for me.
Why argue with idiots? It was useless.
Hassan.
Losing a parent felt like losing a part of your own body, a part that no matter how much you tried, you couldn't get back.
Losing my own father felt like the worst thing in my life had already happened.
The accident had showed me what real pain felt like, physical and mental.
But this pain? The pain of losing someone you loved? It felt like losing your spirit.
I felt empty, I felt lost. It felt like there was a hole in my heart that couldn't ever be healed. It messed up my heart and head.
I wanted to get angry at things that I would never get angry at before.
I wanted to turn back time, I wanted to change everything. I wanted to tell my father that I loved him, I wanted to tell him that there was no bigger inspiration for me than him. I wanted to tell him that his support meant the world to me. I wanted to tell him that my love for him was always there and that I was sorry I couldn't show it.
Even hearing my father's name pulled at me, it left me feeling so restless. I didn't understand how things could simply change like that.
I couldn't even imagine the pain that my mother was going through right now. I knew she cried at nights, I knew she couldn't sleep. I knew how broken she was.
As Aziz bhai put the tray in front of us, I smiled at my mother, encouraging her to eat more.
She hadn't eaten properly in days. I had enough of it.
She ate a few bites, and then pushed the plate away like always. I clicked my tongue.
I had already lost my father. I couldn't lose my mother. She meant too much to me.
"Mama, one more bite." I insisted.
She shook her head.
"No, Hassan. I'm full, trust me."
She was full from her pain, she was full from her grief but I knew she wasn't full from her hunger.
"I want you to be healthy." I put my hand on hers, pleading for her to eat more.
My mother nodded tiredly, eating another bite from the paratha.
It took a few moments between my mother and I when I heard the voice of my kids.
Rohaan was eating a toast, half of the jam smudged on his face while Abaan, wearing a white kurta had his hands filled with a paratha turned into a roll.
Rania was sat between both of them, smiling at them.
It warmed my heart. I had loved this girl, my baby sister as my own baby. Now she was actually taking care of my kids.
Time had really gone by fast.
As my mother ate her food and I took another sip of tea from my mug, I heard Anaaya's voice.
I turned to look at her walking down the stairs with Aira in her arms and Zayaan walking side by side.
Even though her face was set in a frown, my heart immediately relaxed upon seeing her.
My Anaaya.
I didn't ever think that Anaaya was capable of being a wife or daughter in law that our society expected her to be, she had never really shown that side of her.
But now, in the past three weeks, she had done more than what she should have.
She had always been more than perfect to me, for me. But this side of her, it made me respect her more.
While I had comforted my mother, she had been the one to comfort me. She loved me so much that she had put away her own grief. I knew she would hug me close at nights and weep, she missed my father as much as I missed him.
He wasn't just a father figure for her. He was her friend and confidant too.
She still gave me a bright smile as she spotted me, I tried to give her the same.
She put her hand around my mother's shoulder.
"Good morning aunty. How are you?"
My mother relaxed too.
"Getting better, I went at your uncle's grave in the morning, recited fatiha. I feel at peace."
She informed, kissing Zayaan's head as he tried to get away. I pulled him onto my lap, putting a piece of fruit in his mouth.
"I'll go with you tomorrow too."
Anaaya replied, as soon as I thought Zayaan had actually made himself comfortable on my lap, he instantly got off and clung to Anaaya's leg instead.
He was the most shy among all of my children. And the most attached to Anaaya.
"Sure, if these devils let you." My mother remarked.
Anaaya threw her a look, chuckling lightly.
"You want to hold her? I have to go in the kitchen." Anaaya questioned, looking at me.
I nodded eagerly.
"Yeah, come Aira." I stood up and took her in my arms while Anaaya went inside the kitchen.
As the glass of juice was still full, I looked at my mother who was trying to sneak away, just so she wouldn't drink it.
"Mama, you left out the juice."
"Bus na, Hassan."
"I don't want you to get sick."
My mother cupped my face, tears rushing into her eyes.
"I won't, not unless you're here." I nodded, not really knowing how to respond.
"Hassan." She gulped, as if she was hesitant but still talked to me.
"Jee?"
"You'll stay with me right? You won't leave again?"
"Mama, I-"
I didn't know what to say. I couldn't ignore the plead in her voice but thinking about living here, in a joint family again, it suffocated me.
"I don't think I have the courage to see you go away again." My mother said again, eyes filled with hope and tears.
She had just lost father. How could I say no to her?
"So you'll get settled in Pakistan again, right?"
"InshaAllah."
I mumbled.
I already knew Anaaya wouldn't be okay with it.
--
Anaaya.
Entering the kitchen, I gazed at Aziz bhai who was busy frying something.
"Aziz bhai, can you make your special pulao today? I miss it."
He looked at me and nodded eagerly.
"Ofcourse, I'll make it for lunch. You and Shafqat Sahab both loved it alot."
"Yes. I miss him."
His eyes showed that he missed him too. Uncle Shafqat hadn't really treated the help as help. He had treated them like family.
"Anaaya baji, ek din esa nahi tha jab Sahab aap ka aur hassan bhai ka naam na lete hon."
(There wasn't a single day when he would not talk about you or Hassan)
I was about to reply when Maliha, the gossip queen entered the kitchen.
"Aziz! Give chai for Azlaan and make some oatmeal for Ahil."
Even listening to her talk so disrespectfully to him was enough to make me want to kill her.
"And stop spending so much time gossiping."
She mumbled.
As if this bitch hadn't just been doing the same. And Aziz bhai didn't even gossip? What a freak.
Among all this, Abaan entered the kitchen and sat on a chair first. Then he climbed on the counter.
Something that he would do back home as well.
"Abaan, love. Get down. You'll hurt yourself."
I could feel the icy glare of Maliha on my child. I focused on him instead.
"Abaan." I said again but he didn't listen.
"But mama,-"
Maliha interrupted him.
"Oye!! Get off. Do you know how expensive that marble is? Your shoes are ruining it."
No drama Anaaya.
No drama.
Hassan wouldn't want you to start any drama.
Uncle shafqat wouldn't either.
But she had talked to my baby like that and I couldn't control anymore.
"Oh fuck it!" I exclaimed and turned around, my anger getting the best out of me.
"You listen to me loud and clear, next time I see you talk to my child in this tone again, I won't hesitate to smack you in your face!" I jerked her shoulders and she moved back.
Her eyes widened in panic.
"Don't you dare talk to me like that!"
I knew she was just trying to talk back to me. She looked scared anyway.
"Or what? Who are you gonna tell? Azlaan?" I raised my eye as she didn't answer.
"Aziz bhai yahan pay pichle 30 saalon se hain. Izzat se baat kiya karo."
She was about to talk again but I shook my head.
"Uh uh. Sshh."
I stared her down and kept staring until she backed away.
I wanted to walk away but her really bad fashion sense was also something I couldn't bear to look at.
"And maybe get a better closet, your clothes are as ugly as your heart."
I left the kitchen with a contented smile on my face.
--
We were all present in the living room, talking about donating uncle Shafqat's things to the edhi centre when Hassan entered the hall.
"Hey, what's wrong with Abaan? He won't stop crying."
I knew Abaan had been upset about Maliha's yelling and I had calmed him down. But I knew he needed Hassan to actually calm him down for real.
I let out a dry chuckle.
"Maybe ask his wife." I pointed at Azlaan who frowned at the sudden attention.
"Mine? Why?"
"Azlaan, my kids are not used to yelling and shouting. They don't like being yelled at, it's scary for them."
His face was still in a confused state so I kept talking. I knew I had to tell him before that lying bitch started spewing some other shit.
"Your wife has been bitching about me with Phupho Surraiya. We both know she's gonna spread the gossip like wildfire."
"Aziz bhai and I were talking and she storms in and starts talking shit."
As calm as he seemed, I knew he didn't like my sudden accusations at his wife.
"Bhabhi, she's just feeling threatened I guess. It was her in charge and you're all authoritative,"
He defended her.
"It's good that you defend her. But don't do it in private. I'm not here to start a fight."
But I could argue all I wanted.
Before Azlaan could say anything, Hassan stepped inside.
"Anaaya, leave it."
"No, Hassan! We've never discussed family properties among ourselves even! How can she do that with your phupho?" I burst out.
"I said, forget it. I don't want mama to hear all this." His tone was low, as he directed his words to me.
I scowled. He turned around to look at her brother.
"Azlaan, just talk to her about it. No need to start drama."
"You, come."
He held my hand in is and took me upstairs.
I was still scowling when we entered the room.
--
(gif : idc what he's saying but he looks hot)
"Be the mature one, Anaaya. It's not a big deal." He argued as I fought with him.
I didn't understand why Hassan had to be so damn stubborn. I had been mature enough. Why couldn't I just rant in front of him?
"I don't care. She can't talk like that."
"And you put her in her place." He said back.
I sighed out in exasperation.
"I miss Newyork. The kids do too. When are we going home?"
My sudden question caught him off guard and a guilty expression caught his face.
"Anaaya.."
He trailed off.
What had he done now?
"I know it's been only three weeks but Abaan is missing school too." I put forward lamely.
I had a feeling that this conversation was going to be quite different than how I wanted it to go.
"Anaaya, listen. Mama asked me to stay here, in Pakistan."
I nodded.
"Okay, you said no. Right?"
"I couldn't. She's alone." He argued.
"Hassan."
I knew his mother was important to him. I knew he wanted to take care of her so I didn't object. Who was I to do so anyway?
But this? I couldn't agree to this.
"Look, we can take her with us if you're worried. But we have to go back."
"And take her away from the others? No."
I looked at him as if he had lost his damn mind.
"Hassan!"
I yelled at him but it was of no use.
"We're staying in Pakistan, Anaaya. I don't want any argument over this."
"I don't care what you want. I'm not going to support you in this."
"I don't need you to support me, I just need you to accept my decision.."
With that, he left the room.
Will I ever have a day of fuckin peace?
--
Okay okay!!
I hope you guys liked it.
Long. Dramatic. But necessary.
What do you think? They should stay in Pakistan or go back to Newyork?