Chapter 20
Tum ho... saath mere... paas mere
He looked down at the drink in his hands, willing for it to finish and then back up at his wife. There she was, mingling with her friends, laughing with her head thrown back.
A smile slipped through.
She looked resplendent in the sparkling beige saree paired with some red roses in her hair.
His head quickly came up with ways of getting them out of her hair.
Asad sighed.
People were taking much too long for his liking. Granted he had loved meeting her classmates, colleagues, acquaintances – everyone who gave him more insight into her life before him. But he was on the verge of hiding her under his coat and running off as far as possible.
How did she even know this many people? Their backyard was like a sold-out concert.
"Asad ao beta, come meet Mr. Harrison" Jeeju called.
"Jee" he sulked trying not to frown.
Ah! the two shiny gold toys on display for everyone. Incredibly foolish!
The only time he's had the pleasure of holding his wife was during their embarrassing walima dance routine. It had thrown him back into the golden memories of their sangeet.
And just like that, the world around them had misted to a blur.
He had wondered back then – what it would be like to dance with her; no secrets amid. They had moved effortlessly both times, feelings surging, fingers tingling.
But her brown eyes weren't glistening then, they were careful. Quivering lips hadn't graced the smile that lit up his universe; her face gleaming with his love had been missing.
The capiz lanterns suspended from tree limbs in the dark night were nothing compared to her bewitching kohl eyes; for they smoldered darker and glittered brighter.
He reminisced watching her hair bounce with each move, each sway. He wouldn't be lying if he said he woke up in wonder on the daily, thanking his stars.
Asad gazed at her moving through the crowd now, and imagined her hair tangled in his fingers at a much darker hour when all remaining light would disperse.
"Nobody's going to dissect you to shreds Mr. Khan, it's the 'bride' that bears the brunt" he recalled her saying at an earlier hour. It was hard to let go of her even though they were unfashionably late.
"They will forget everything once they look at that smile"
"Just like you" she teased
"Just like me" he promised
Her gaze arrested his bringing him back again, and for a moment he imagined her signalling him.
It wasn't until she was standing at the threshold of the house flashing her eyes at him that he understood she really was.
The couple slyly slipped inside successfully avoiding any notice.
xx
There was no chance to show him around once the function was over. The newly marrieds were swamped with family and friends since they'd set foot in the house. The family's touring adventures and Najma's unending shopping spree stories were just the beginning of their wonderful chaos.
Zoya picked up the framed photo set on her bedside table, Aapi and Jeeju smiling back at her reflection.
Oh, how she was going to miss them!
She didn't notice the tears drifting down her cheeks until a hand showed up to wipe them clean.
"What is it?"
"Just thinking about how much I am going to miss them"
"We'll visit often. We'll take care of them...together" Asad's reassuring hand came up on hers as he crouched down on the floor in front of her.
Zoya looked at him lovingly and slowly whispered "I wish they were here... to see you... meet you...they would be happy Asad, proud of you"
"Proud of us" he corrected; his own eyes teary.
All her life, she had struggled to find home, a happy place – until she met him. She'd never felt a love so deep, so strong, so complex.
Gone were the days where pretence of her 'bubbly nature' hid the sadness behind closed doors.
She finally felt complete; happy.
Yes, the dream of that missed childhood would forever lurk in the back of her mind, but no longer she felt the need to lock herself lone to wallow in miseries and self- pity.
She truly believed her Allah Miyan had given her more than she deserved.
Asad picked up another picture sitting on the small table. It was of a young Zoya smiling at the camera, flaunting her prom dress.
"Thank god you didn't like that loser Mark" He'd just heard about her prom night crush from her friends.
"Jealous Mr. khan"
"No, I would have made you mine even if you did" he said confident.
Her brows shot up "You wouldn't even admit your feelings; talking about making me yours" she scoffed.
"Slow and steady wins the race, right"
"Always have a comeback, right" she mimicked.
"It's a wonder I can get a word in" he smiled, kissing her softly on the lips.
"I know what you're trying to do" she whispered
"Am I any good?" he nuzzled her neck, venturing down.
She nodded gasping "Can't remember a thing"
Good.
xx
"Ayaan, you know I can't come"
"I wish you could bhai... I did" he argued
"That's different and you know it" Asad retorted
"Will my bhabhi be there at least?" he tried again
"Ayaan" His hard tone put an end to the conversation
"Fine, allah haafiz" Ayaan sulked
Asad's hand found its way to his forehead as he disconnected the call.
"Are you okay?" Zoya asked as she entered the room with a load of laundry in her arms.
Asad nodded, busying himself with his laptop.
Zoya shook her head disapproving. Did he think she was blind?
He'd been restless ever since they'd landed home. But she was very well aware what was troubling him. His baby brother was getting married in less than a month and a brother like him would want nothing but to be there for him...yet the burnt bridges didn't allow him to wedge that gap.
But his begum had other plans. She wasn't called Mona darling –promoted now to Mona Bhabhi– for nothing.
She dropped the freshly washed clothes on the bed and walked towards where he sat. He pretended to work with some papers as she settled beside him.
"It's a good idea, right?" he finally looked at her, gaze questioning
"Nikhat" he let himself smile
"It's a great idea. Only good one you've had" he couldn't stop himself from adding.
"Mr.Khan" Zoya reprimanded.
Her ideas were 'always' A++ What did six packs know!
Zoya had recently discovered at the wedding that Nikhat loved to dance. It was her dream to enroll in a dance school and eventually open her own studio.
How about a trip abroad for an extended course? No one to judge her, nothing to stop her. It would take her mind off the loser Imran.
Ayaan had jumped aboard asap. Zoya was also aware at a sensitive time such as this, most of the family –and she used the term most loosely– was eager to get her out of sight from all the judgemental Uncles and Aunties.
Once, she got out and gained some confidence she'd no longer had to walk on paths people paved for her. It was simply impossible for her to follow a desired path in that household.
Zoya knew deep down, Asad didn't disagree with her – even though he acted like he did.
He wanted his sister to find footing and an identity of her own, so no 'man' would shake her being.
The problem arose at the part where they would lie to Siddiqui family– they were going to say it was a computer course– to get her out of there.
Her husband refused to lie and the Siddiqui's wouldn't swallow the truth; it was preposterous, a blasphemy to their learnings. Ghar ki ladki ab naach- gaana karegi! How deplorable.
But Zoya had come up with a perfect happy ending.
Apparently, one of her friends had been bewitched by Nikhat ever since he had seen her at the wedding. She had barely suppressed her laughter at his fallen face when the news broke that the rest of extended family wouldn't be joining them at the walima.
She knew the pressure Nikhat was under to marry Imran. His mother had made several rounds of their house claiming a dark-skinned, rejected girl –apparently, she thought they rejected her– would never find a groom. The evil auntyji had then proceeded to announce her life doomed and destroyed.
The famous odious Mumani of the house was also on the hunt to find her a husband. It boiled her blood that she had considered older divorced men.
What in the world!? She was a perfectly beautiful, kind, intelligent girl. And she deserved a man who respected her beauty and her love.
And luckily her friend, Zaroon, was just that. He was attractive, kind, loving, respectful, smart and charming.
Zoya had joked one day if Asad hadn't found his way to her, she'd have snatched him for herself. Predictably, Asad hadn't talked to her that day. Jahapanas can have such sensitive ego sometimes, Allah miyan! She'd have to built his tolerance into taking a joke.
Nevertheless, she had to get extra crafty to bring him out of his angry young man mode then.
Thankfully, he approved of him for Nikhat. While in NY, he took the opportunity to meet with his family, see his house, and have a conversation with him. Their family was of coming age. Seeing Nikhat pursue her dreams, would make her happy, and seeing her happy would make their son happy. The fact that he himself was in a dance team once was icing on cake. And Zoya's family knowing them for a decade definitely sealed the deal.
It wasn't long before he had mentioned it to Ayaan and he to the family.
The Siddiqui family rejoiced of finding such a good match, and the prospective wife of giving her family happiness.
She didn't know now, and maybe for weeks to come, but she would soon be in possession of rightful happiness.
xx
Had it been just months since their story started at this very dargah? Just months since his life had turned most beautifully upside down.
He watched her seat herself opposite him. They had come back to offer their gratitude, grateful for all they had been graciously bestowed with.
Asad reflected at the last month of his matrimonial life as he raised his hands up to pray. He'd never felt more lively, more complete. Their bond, her companionship, was like the air that surrounded him; he'd never get tired of breathing it in.
He always thought with abhorrence of the times he had announced her incompatible, unworthy.
She had been nothing but a blessing for him and his family.
When a most beloved sister was on the verge of falling into great despair, she had fished her out of it even though they were miles apart.
When he had grieved not being able to witness one of his baby-brother's most important moment, she had materialized her own whimsical solution.
At what time, she had transpired with Ayaan to set up the wedding venue with cameras, he didn't know. All he knew that he was able to see his brother's nikaah, be present although virtual, but it was something he had never thought possible.
Asad could only but hope that he would too invariably make her feel the same way, she did him.
There was no doubt of hardships lurking ahead for the ways of life were never easy, but as long as they were hand in hand, their love would evaporate them, overcome them.
As he opened his eyes to look at the girl sitting across the hall, he was thrown into the echoes of his memory when he had first seen her.
He had refused to understand even when he did–it was easy...merely a free fall in gravity to love someone like her. He, however was different. His mind would never comprehend, how incidentally, miraculously she fell in love with his jagged self too. It was a mystery he wished to unravel but never assimilate.
When Zoya opened her eyes, her dimple deepened as they settled on the one she had instantly searched for.
As she beamed, her smile reminded him of sunrises, and days to come – extravagant and full of promise.
xxx
Ta da! I hope you liked reading the last chapter of the story. I apologize for the long wait and thank you for your patience.
I had no idea how this story morphed into twenty chapters. I hope you loved reading it as much as I loved writing it. I, also, always wanted to right Nikhat somehow (I was personally offended by show's storyline :/ ) hence a small addition for her.
Hope to see you guys soon with a new storyline :D Stay healthy and safe. All my love ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
- Anu
If you guys made it here, you'd like to check out more stories , here's a link https://www.wattpad.com/user/vintage_flow