Aaina.
We were in a suite at The Marriot Hotel, where my husband was sitting at the very far end, smoking his second cigarette of the day. Exactly, a few miles from the hotel, I could see the lights of the Prime Minister House. The same house I had got married in, the same house we had to leave four months ago and the same house that was one of the many reasons of sitting here tonight.
All of the televisions inside the suite were set on different news channels, where the anchors continued reporting on the ballot count as results started to pour in.
The names of the candidates who were leading the vote, the party they were affiliated with, which party was leading so far, everything was being announced.
The son of an ex- Prime Minister and at barely thirty four, the youngest contender in history of Pakistan for the position of the Prime Minister.
The man who was also my husband and the man who was confident that he was going to win.
My legs ached from standing for so long, I had been with the family since morning, all of us had gathered in this very suite, there were close friends, close political allies, Zaydaan's advisors, assistants, photographers, and so many more people.
Even though the suite was large, it was still crowded.
Zaydaan had been working so hard since the past three months, constant processions, campaigns, going from city to city, it wasn't an easy task.
I couldn't remember the last time we actually had the time to even sleep peacefully by each other.
While he was busy with his campaign, I had been busy with my semester assignments and finals. Studying at home was much harder than studying at the University.
I was sat by my mother in law's side, Ahad standing opposite to us.
The air was pretty much thick with tension, the anticipation of knowing the results, of losing or winning, of being in position of power or not, it was stressful.
The atmosphere changed even more when my husband walked inside the living room after taking a cigarette break.
His tall, wide shouldered frame loomed in the doorway, as he stood there for a while, I observed him as he had his back turned to our side.
He talked to his father for a while, who frowned for a moment before nodding. I understood that it was a huge moment for them as well.
He had given up his entire position of power for his son, resigning as the party chairman and giving it over to Zaydaan, it was huge.
Finally, after having a prolonged conversation, his father turned away and Zaydaan entered the living room.
The men in the room stood up, the women straightened.
I gulped.
There was just something about him tonight that made everyone look at him with much more respect, as if he suddenly had a power that he didn't before.
Maybe, that was it.
Even though he was not dressed in his usual suit, but in a white t-shirt, he still looked much more powerful than anyone in the room.
He nodded at a few of his men, scanning the entire room before his eyes paused on me.
To be the wife of a man they all looked upto, it felt so hard right now.
He was still looking at me when Ahad stood near him, diverting his attention away from me.
"They're saying you got KPK." He told him, my husband nodded.
"I got Punjab, too. Sindh is still very much theirs." He replied.
I went back to observing my mother in law's hands, just to avoid feeling awkward.
"Aaina." My head snapped up as he called out my name in the middle of all the noise.
Sudden silence filling the room.
"Jee (Yes)?" I asked, voice almost inaudible.
"Your father is outside. Go meet him." He told me.
As much as I wanted to say no, I couldn't. One, because there were too many people. Two, because I couldn't say no to Zaydaan.
"Okay."
I agreed, walking outside the living room and standing near the door where I knew my father would be coming out of. Ofcourse I knew he was here. I just didn't want to meet him.
But now, I had to.
--
While some fathers would be delighted at the sight of their married daughters, mine looked bored out of his mind the moment he laid eyes on me.
Was it because I was not a son? Because I had been a daughter who couldn't handle his empire? Who he couldn't brag about?
Was that it? But God had gifted him with a son too, all he had to do was wait for him to grow up.
Then why was he always this cold to me?
"Assalam alaikum, abbu." I still greeted, he stopped, observing me.
"Aaina," He replied, not bothering to say salam back.
"How are you?" I asked about his health. He shrugged.
"I'm good, you? Everything is fine, yes?"
"Jee (Yes)." I nodded.
"Ghar par sab theek hai?"
(Is everything okay at home?)
Even if things weren't okay, I still wouldn't tell you.
"Jee." I nodded again.
"Good. Today your husband will become the Prime Minister. Ab bhi bura tha kya Mera faisla?"
(Was my decision not wise then?)
He questioned as if he had done me the biggest favour by getting me married to Zaydaan. It was through my compassion and love, through my care and respect that things with Zaydaan were alright. It was not because of my father.
I inhaled a deep breath.
"Mujhe nahi pata ke aap ka faisla theek tha ya nahin, mujhe ye zaroor pata hai ke aap ne mere baare main nahi socha tha, abbu."
(I dont know whether you decision was right or not but I do know that you weren't thinking about me when you made that decision.)
I tried to sound as polite as I could, but he still took my tone was impolite and rude. He hissed at me.
"Zubaan agayi hai achanak se?"
(Suddenly got a tongue?)
I shook my head.
"You told Zaydaan to make me fear him, you told him." I stated, almost telling him to deny it. Knowing that my own father had done something of this sort, it was hurtful.
"He said that?" He questioned back.
"Yes."
"And you believe him?" I crossed my arms.
"My husband isn't a liar." I replied.
He chuckled dryly.
"He's a politician, he's the biggest liar."
"Not with me." I denied.
For some reason, I trusted Zaydaan more than my own father.
"Are you here to argue with me?" He interrogated, taking out his phone and sending a text message, not sparing me a glance.
"No. I'm here to meet you." I replied.
He didn't respond, didn't say anything as he kept typing. It felt like he didn't even care that I was standing in front of him.
"How are ammi and Saira?" I questioned, hoping he would spare me a glance.
"They're fine, enjoying Dubai."
My father had sent them both to Dubai, since my aunt lived there and ammi wanted to shop.
She didn't even call before leaving.
"Right," I mumbled, gulping down the hurt. My father finally looked up, giving me his best flat face.
"I'll go now, tell Zaydaan congratulations."
With that, he left.
So much for the man who was known as my father.
--
Walking back to sit beside my husband after removing a few stray tears wasn't too easy, especially when there were people staring at me.
I couldn't create a scene, I couldn't walk out and cry, I couldn't feel hurt because of my father because it would show on my face.
So I sat, just right by Zaydaan.
"Okay?" Just because I had not said anything, it did not mean that he didn't notice the fact that I wasn't smiling anymore.
Even with confidence oozing out of his body and a constant, almost victorious smile on his face, he still frowned, concerned when he looked at me.
"Yeah," I replied, giving him a soft smile.
He was about to question me something else, when his father called his name.
"Zaydaan, son. Get ready, we're going to the main hall."
"Baba, results aren't in yet." He argued.
"Our people are impatient, we need them to see you confident." My husband understood what his father meant, and waited for me to leave with him.
I didn't know if I could leave or not. I turned to look at my mother in law.
"Go, Aaina." She ushered me.
"Me too, mama?" I asked in a soft whisper.
"Ofcourse, I was in every campaign Idrees ever did. People didn't see you supporting him during the campaign days, but now, it would be nice to see a woman by his side. Yes?"
I realised that she was right. My mother in law had actually raised a standard, she had created an environment in the past five years where the first lady held alot of importance in the country.
I had to fill into her shoes now, that was, if Zaydaan won the elections.
"Yes. Now go, get ready."
Since my husband had already left the room in a hurry, I rushed outside the presidential suite as well, entering another room that was booked by him.
A few clothes were sprawled across the bed, courtesy of my messy habits while Zaydaan was busy taking out a black kurta from the closet.
"Hey, do you want help?" I questioned him, taking out my white dress from the packet.
Zaydaan sighed.
"This is wrinkled. I'll have to send it-"
I shook my head, grabbing it from his hand.
"I can iron it, it's okay."
He reluctantly gave it to me, almost worried that I'd burn it. I switched on the iron machine, attaching the kurta with the hanger and pressing the steamed handle near it.
I looked at Zaydaan who was shirtless right now, waiting for me to give him his black kurta.
"Zaydaan, are you really going to be a Prime Minister?" I asked.
For everyone else, I was taking this well. I was acting okay. But with Zaydaan, all alone, there was a weird fear in my heart.
He was going to become the most powerful man in the country. What if his attitude with me changed after that? What if he totally flipped out on me? What if this turned out to be a disaster? What if the people hated me as a first lady? What if?
"Yes." He answered bluntly, snapping me out of my thoughts.
"It's not believable." I whispered, taking out the kurta from the hanger as I had finished ironing it.
"Believe it, Aaina."
As I handed it over to him, he held my hand in a firm grip, frowning as he realised I was shaking.
"You're shaking." I gulped.
Why was I even shaking? This was god damn normal. It was like every other day. I had to stay calm.
"I don't know why. You're still the same, it's-" I tried to tell him but a knock on the door and a look at the clock was all it took for him to get distracted.
"Go get ready, we don't have time."
He said instead, turning me away.
"Do I look okay?" I questioned him on our way to the main hall.
Ahad was right behind us, Zaydaan's father and mother by our left.
He glanced at me, looking at me from head to toe, then looking away.
"Come,"
I walked ahead, sighing after every minute or two.
Calm down, Aaina. The whole family is with you. It's okay. It's fine.
Okay.
"Chairman Chaudhry is here too." Zaydaan's father suddenly mumbled, My husband didn't give any reaction.
Ahad, however reached our right side, standing next to me.
"Oh don't even get me started on that asshole, he stole my girlfriend!" He exclaimed, voice getting a little loud.
"Ahad." Zaydaan warned. He simply rolled his eyes.
"I'm serious. I'll kill him if I see him." I laughed, only Ahad could calm my nerves in such a situation.
Here I was, worried about the fact that I was going to be wife of the Prime Minister now, I knew it in my heart.
And yet, here he was, talking about a man he hated for stealing his girlfriend.
"Look at you, pretty girl." He suddenly commented, telling me that I looked nice.
It's better than a glance and 'come'
"Woman. Bhabhi." Zaydaan muttered, Ahad groaned.
"God knows how obnoxious he's gonna be when he becomes the Prime Minister."
I didn't care about that. I just hoped he wouldn't change his behaviour with me. I wanted the same Zaydaan, a little more complimentary but the same.
Forever.
--
Zaydaan turned to me, eyes boring into mine.
"I'll go up there, talk to my people, you stay with mama and she'll introduce you to all of our people. You have to be familiar with them." He instructed.
"Okay,"
He walked away with his people and I remained with my mother in law. She took me towards a huge group of women, almost twenty to thirty women who were looking at us every second or so.
My mother in law stood in between them, I stood by her side as they crowded us in a circle.
"How are you, sweetheart?" She questioned a young girl, she smiled at my mother in law, eyes shining in admiration.
"I'm good, how are you?"
"Fine, as you can see. Aaina, this is Allison, she's the official campaign photographer." I shook hands with her as she introduced me.
"And this is Saba Qureshi, she has worked in Zaydaan's office for as long as I can remember."
Saba was a curvy, brunette woman, eyes filled with kohl and lips purple. She was quite beautiful.
No, Aaina. Don't go there.
"This is Maliha Lodhi, she's our consultant on overseas campaigning."
I greeted the next woman.
"This is Nadia Mirza, she's Zaydaan's secretary, well, she used to be."
Nadia Mirza, she was almost Zaydaan's age. She shook hands with me confidently, I did the same.
"Very nice to meet you all."
My mother in law knew each and every woman in that circle, she talked to them about things that I had no idea about, there was so much admiration in all these women as they looked at my mother in law, they would chuckle or aww, every once in a while.
I could only stand there and observe everything.
"And Raima you know her. She'll be your assistant now, she'll help you with anything you want."
"And Samina is going to be your stylist, I didn't need a stylist because I'm so old-" She joked.
"Mama,"
"Really, but you do. She's going to make you look even more beautiful, like a first lady should look like."
I nodded, absorbing everything. I liked the way I was, I liked my clothes and everyone always told me that I had a good sense of fashion. I didn't need a stylist.
"Yeah."
"I told Zaydaan that we should explain this to you before but he said that I should do it when the time comes."
"It's alright, I can understand." I laid her worry at ease.
My mother in law held my shoulder, hugging me from the side, almost comfortingly.
"Good, alright ladies. Enjoy today and get back to work tomorrow. Yes?" She said to all of them, they nodded, shaking hands with her once again.
Some even hugged her and she hugged them back with the same amount of love.
"Ofcourse, ma'am. Keep meeting us, we'll miss you."
"She's not going anywhere, trust me." I reminded them.
I didn't think I could do this without her. She had to stay by my side and do this. I wasn't as social as her.
"All the best to you, ma'am."
As if wishing me luck would make it easy.
"Thank you." I still thanked them, walking away with my mother in law to another part of the hall.
First lady, more like first disaster.
--
I was busy drinking a cup of tea when suddenly, the party spokesperson stood on the stage, he grabbed the mike, turning all eyes at him.
"Alright people, it's official. We have majority in Balochistan, KPK and Punjab."
Suddenly, cheers broke out, all I could hear was loud cheers and claps, all I could see was the sheer joy on everyone's face, all I could feel was the sudden energy in the half dead crowd.
"He won." My mother in law said from beside me, gasping, eyes filled with tears.
Both Ahad and my mother in law stood up, rushing towards Zaydaan. I was still sitting with the cup of tea in my hand, feeling too different.
This was the sole purpose of my marriage. This was the reason my father used me as a pawn. This was the reason Zaydaan accepted me.
What use was I of now? What if he simply left me now?
Why was I being so negative? I should be happy. This was what Zaydaan wanted.
"And Zaydaan Ziagil, with majority in three provinces might just become the Prime Minister. Not just any PM, but the youngest PM in the history of Pakistan."
Suddenly, the projector was switched on, voices blooming from the speaker.
"This starts another chapter to democracy in Pakistan, hearts are filled with hope and fear, seems like Zaydaan Ziagil is our new Prime Minister."
"I'm so proud of you, son." I could see his father hugging him.
A new vision
Destined to lead.
Born for this.
The change we need.
New Pakistan.
For the people, by the people.
Long live Idrees Ziagil's struggle.
S
o many names, so many chants, so many people talking about him.
People on social media used to call him the Pakistani Prince and the electronic media had picked up the name.
"The Pakistani Prince might have just turned the game. The people have spoken, Zaydaan Ziagil is going to be the new Prime Minister of Pakistan."
He was at the far end, tall and broad shouldered, his hair dark and gleaming under the lights. His black kurta making him look like a different man.
Confidence streaked out of every pore in his body.
I slowly stood up, seeing as people congratulated him, shook hands with him, Ahad hugged him, kissing his cheek with a loud smack, Zaydaan wiped it away playfully pushing at his shoulder.
Usually, I would have laughed at his silliness, tonight, I simply had other things on my mind.
I was a pawn in this political bargain, used for power and money, they married me to him just so they all could get what they wanted.
And now, they got it.
What of me now?
I stared at Zaydaan again, his eyes looking around the entire room.
He's my husband.
Mine.
Suddenly, his wandering eyes stopped and they looked at me. He furrowed his eyebrows, standing still for a moment. And then,
He was coming towards me.
There is fear in my heart, the same fear that used to be there once, and there is excitement. There is worry but there is also a little joy that he actually looked around the entire hall, just to find me.
I suddenly can't feel much, just that high feeling where all I can see is him walking towards me.
So I stare, and I stay still.
"Hey,"
He murmured reaching me, looking at me, eyes light and filled with a joy of victory.
Despite my worry and fear, I managed to crack the warmest smile I could muster up.
"Congratulations." I whispered to him.
The next thing I felt, shocked me to the core. There are about two hundred people in this hall.
Or maybe even more.
And he is embracing me in his arms in front of all of them.
Zaydaan Ziagil, Prime Minister of Islamic Republic of Pakistan is hugging me in front of two hundred people, in front of people taking pictures and making videos.
There is so much warmth in his hug that I forget all the negative thoughts.
And I hug him back.
--