10. You're an idiot

*****

The winds moved at an anxiously slow pace, the curtains hardly dancing with its rhythm. The sky looked dull as if not having anything to brighten for, the sun remained half hidden behind the grey clouds and the haveli resembled a silent abode that had not been visited by anyone for ages but the reality was far from it.

In the longue of the huge brick structure, sat a woman in mid-forties. The wooden rocking chair creaked every now and then while a hukka lay in her hands, smoke leaving her lips as if it were a common thing- and it was.

Khurshida begum looked wise as well as cunning. Her eyes that had seen years and met people of different aims reflected in her demeanour. Her relaxed looking features could deceive anyone but the mirth dancing within them could only be spotted if she wished for it to.

"Bech aaye use?"

Her calm question resonated through the eerie silence, sending fearful chills down the spine of the person to whom the question was asked. Badar stood in front of his amma, his hands fisted behind his back in an attempt to hide the nerves but the beads of sweat that trickled down his forehead and neck easily gave it all away.

"A-amma, woh maan-"

"Wajah puchi hai maine? Haan ya na bolo."

Her cold voice hit his ears and his heart shuddered with the fear of what was about to come. Gulping the fearful lump in his throat, he gave her a weak nod and meek,

"Haan."

As soon as the words left his lips, a burning stick was thrown at his cheek. A horrified scream left his lips as his hand on instinct raised up to touch the wounded skin that was crippling slowly.

Khurshida begum did not get up from her seat but the rage in her eyes screamed destruction. Her movements continued, she kept smoking her hukka with her eyes trained on her useless son who had demolished all her plans of a luxurious future.

"Kis se puch kar ye harkat ki?"

Badar winced as he opened his mouth to speak. His left cheek ached badly but he knew better than to voice his pain.

"A-amma, usse nikah karne ki zarurat nahi thi. Uske sar par banduk rakh ke bhi uski jaidat-"

"Apne betuke mashware apne paas rakho! Bhulo mat yaha faisle kaun leta hai. Agar itna hi aasan hota yeh sab, toh kya main dimaag se kamroz hu jo woh tareeka na soch pau?"

Badar gritted his teeth, his hands fisting and unfisting themelves behind his back. His eyes didn't dare make contact with his mother's and that might be the only thing that kept him alive after his stunt.

"Gussa aa raha hai?"

Khurshida begum's mocking tone made it difficult to not yell or scream in anguish. Badar had the same blood flowing through his veins and any minute now his last thread of patience might break but he knew better than to let it go.

"Nahi."

Came his restrained response and Khurshida leaned back on her chair, her eyes assessing her son's every move, reading his each expression loud and clear.

"Aana bhi nahi chahiye. Gawaro pe gussa acha nahi lagta."

"Chahiye kya aapko?"

He didn't raise his voice and only he knew how much effort it took but what left him startled was the sudden laugh, a laugh so cold and chill giving that Badar felt his fear coming back with full force.

"Ziah Aslam chahiye hume. Lao use wapas chahe jo karna pade. Uske nalayak baap ne kuch diya nahi lekin woh apna sab kuch hume haar baithe gi. Khuda kasam Badar, agar woh kisi aur ki hui, toh tum apni zindagi kho baithoge."

"A-amma, she might be across the world for all we know!"

"TOH IS SAB KA ZIMMEDAR KAUN HAI?"

Khurshida yelled at her son. Badar flinched and stumbled a little back as he saw his mother coming towards him. Her eyes danced with a sickly obsession and a zid that Badar knew would one day lead them to their doom.

Khurshida gripped her son's cheeks in between her palm in a bruising force. Badar bit his lips to stop the painful wince from being released and Khurshida begum smiled- a smile that promised destruction and terror.

"Teen hafte Badar, teen hafte de rahi hu tumhe. Mujhe woh ladki is haveli mein wapas chahiye. Sahi salamat aur hatti katti. Jo karna pade karo, warna yeh mat sochna ki tum mera khun ho toh bach jaoge."

With that, she left him rooted to his place and walked back into the haveli that was once again reigned in silence- a silence before the storm.

*****

Ziah sat in the middle of the bed, a pillow in her hands on which her chin rested in the most adorable of ways and her eyes trained on the white wall that seemed more interesting than the baraat that was about to arrive in less than 3 hours.

"Galat hai yeh."

She whispered to herself, her voice holding a reprimanding tone but the pricks that her heart felt were unnamed. Her eyes blinked more than a few times, her brain refused to cooperate while her heart didn't want to accept.

Her mind showed her the cons, the reasons why this was impossible but her heart gleamed with the tiniest bit of hope.

"Mere saath hi kyu?"

The question came out with a tinge of anger- anger for how her fates were never meant to work in a straight line, a line that didn't contain any hurdles or chances of loss.

Resting her head on the headboard, she closed her eyes to put a halt to her self-pity filled thoughts but all that she was met with was a heartache she didn't want to acknowledge and a racing mind that listened to anyone but her.

Finally swallowing her sorrow-filled thoughts, with determined steps she got out of the bed and looked at the sharara that lay on the chair of her dressing table. Madiha had come prepared and the old woman was generous enough to buy the dresses for all the functions that they were going to attend along with a few casual ones.

The next half an hour, she spent on taking a shower and changing into the light cream colour dress that brightened her form. The dress wasn't too heavy when it came to it's embroidery but looked simply elegant. Trying to keep her look as simple as possible, she left her hair open that covered her back with their wavy pattern, just putting a pearl hair pin at the side.

She was the worst when it came to applying makeup, hence decided against it and just applied a little bit of moisturizer and a blush pink lip balm. For her eyes, she used the kohl that highlighted her honey brown eye colour, making them look like the woods glistening in the heated sun.

Looking at the dressing table, she found a pair of jhumka and a set of kade and chudiya that matched perfectly with her dress and looked beautiful. After putting them on, she looked at herself in the mirror, her eyes seemed a little dull but the light in them hadn't been fully diminished yet.

She looked... beautiful and that was a first in itself from her side to herself. Smiling at the mini accomplishment, with a look of glee, she pinned her dupatta on her right shoulder and with that, her look was completed with a touch of haya.

"Ziah?"

The familiar voice that belonged to Parizad resounded in the room along with a gentle knock. Taking deep breaths, she rubbed her chest softly and opened the door only to find a fully dressed Parizad ready for welcoming her to-be jiju.

"Masha'Allah, plan on taking part in the beauty pageant?"

Ziah blushed but giggled softly at Parizad's teasing tone while shaking her head in a negative manner.

"Look who's talking. No wonder Daiyan bhai lost his heart to you."

The mention of her husband made Parizad blush shades of marital red that described nothing but a happiness filled bliss as she glared at Ziah in a playful way.

"Don't act smart, miss. Chalo ab, Aliya is almost dressed. Woh saari auntia toh mujhe use dekhne hi nahi de rahi."

Chuckling to themselves, the two walked to the bride's room that was being swarmed with elderly women. Madiha too was one of them as she took care of Aliya's jewelleries while Preetha Mehra, Aliya's mother was trying best to not shed a tear or two while looking at her daughter dolled up as the bride.

"Jaldi jaldi haath chalao sab. Baraat aane mein bas 2 ghante reh gaye hai."

A woman from the crowd said in a hurried tone and just like that, the once chatter filled environment now bustled like the hive of a bee.

*****

Marwan banged his head on the dressing table for the nth time- gently of course. A frustrated groan was all he could emit as he looked back at his suitcase that looked like it had gone through a cyclone.

"Ya Allah, why did I pack a suit and hoodie for an Indian wedding?"

"Because you're an idiot."

Daiyan gave his unwanted input and Marwan scowled at him before placing his head in between his hands, his eyes shut tightly, imagining himself in front of his mother and the look in her eyes.

As soon as the thought came, his eyes shot open in horror. His mother wouldn't let him see the daylight if she saw him attending a desi wedding like an angrezi munda.

"Daiyan, yaar, madad kar de!"

He whined and turned to look at his friend who was already dressed up for the baraat that would arrive in less than 1 hour. Wearing an off-white sherwani filled with light patterns all over, Daiyan looked a sight for sore eyes but too bad, he was off the market.

Meanwhile the one who was available was sitting on the chair with messed hair, a frown on his face and black hoodie paired with grey sweatpants covering his form.

Not the most admirable of sights, is it?

Daiyan rolled his eyes at his friend's cry for help and rubbed his temples a little. He gave Marwan a look that told him to wait for a few minutes and walked out of the room. Marwan tapped his feet anxiously on the carpet covered floor, waiting for his best friend to return impatiently.

Not 10 minutes later, Daiyan walked in holding a brand new looking sherwani in his hands, fully ironed, prim and proper for the function!

Marwan sprang up to his feet in happiness. Daiyan rudely thrust the sherwani in his hands but the guy didn't mind it one bit. He was busy being emotional over how great his friend was!

"Masha'Allah, mujhe pata tha that you weren't a part of my great presence for nothing."

Daiyan scrunched his nose in utter annoyance at his friend and flicking Marwan's forehead, he pushed him towards the washroom.

"Muh zyada mat chala and get ready. Madiha aunty ne tujhe is holiye mein dekh liya toh Allah khair kare."

The zikr of his mother made his eyes go wide and without any further due, he quickly skipped inside the washroom, taking utmost 10 minutes to make himself look presentable.

Walking out of the washroom, he dried his hair with the towel, the wet locks smearing water droplets into the air. Wiping the excess water from his body, he took hold of the periwinkle blue sherwani and quickly threw it over his form. Buttoning it as fast as he could, he walked up to the dressing table and combed his messy hair that now looked a little tamed.

Putting on his gold and silver rado watch, he searched for his shoes under the bed and sighed in relief when he found a set of polished and neat looking white baraat wale joote ready for him to wear.

"Ladkiyon ko tayyar hone ke time mein takkar deni hai?"

Daiyan's sarcastic words were skillfully ignored by Marwan as he put on his cologne and checked himself out in the mirror for the last time.

Masha'Allah! He looked-

"Gadhe the aur gadhe lag rahe ho. Chal abhi!"

Scowling at the insult that Daiyan had thrown at him in the most casual of ways, Marwan clicked his tongue in annoyance and shoved him out of the way before walking out of the room.

Hearing a grunt of frustration from behind him, Marwan stifled a sigh of victory as he walked into the venue that seemed to be flooded by people- all of whom were strangers to him.

"BARAAT AA GAYI!"

An excited cry rang through the air and Marwan winced at the commotion that became more violent than before. Stealthily walking in the midst of the people who remained unknown to him, his eyes looked around to find the familiar faces but not seeing even one, he grumbled under his breath and bit back a curse when a person gave him a push from behind.

Brushing off his shoulders, he walked to the side where the crowd seemed less and where oxygen was present in a generous amount. Taking in deep breaths to calm his annoyance, he took hold of the bottled water and gulped down half of it.

"Marwan!"

Turning around, he saw Parizad walking up to him with an alarmed look. Her eyes seemed a little panicked as she stood in front of him.

"Parizad, sab theek toh hai na?"

She shook her head, ready to burst into tears and it was Marwan who was now panicking.

"A-ammi, ki tabiyat bahot kharab ho gayi hai. Maryam ka phone aaya tha abhi, she's admitted in hospital."

"Shush, ro nahi-"

"Kya hua?"

The alert voice of Daiyan came from behind him and Marwan sighed in relief knowing that he wouldn't have to barge in between people to find his best friend.

Marwan took a few steps back as Daiyan stood beside his wife, consoling her and asking her what had gone wrong and seeing as now Parizad was in the safe hands of her husband, he turned around and left the couple to themselves.

Maryam, Daiyan's younger sister, was more like the lost soul sibling of Marwan. The two were equally mischievous and a call for trouble but knowing what had happened to Ismat aunty, Daiyan's mother, made his mood turn dull.

The loud sounds of shehnaiya and drums along with cheers and whistles from the other side brought him back from his sulking thoughts. Marwan rubbed a hand over his face, knowing well that he couldn't spoil his best friend's wedding due to his sour mood, so sucking it all up he put a smile on his face.

The sound of his phone ringing in his pocket made him take a sharp breath in frustration and without looking at the caller id, he picked the call.

"Marwan, main Parizad ke saath wapas L-Lucknow ja raha hu. Please meri taraf se Aliya ko sorry bol dena."

Daiyan tried to keep his voice firm but Marwan detected the slight tremor in it.

"Tu is sab ki fikr mat kar and take care. Pahonch ke call karna, theek hai?"

He heard a hum of agreement from the other side and cut the call. His heart ached for his friend but on the other hand there was another best friend of his who was going to step into a precious phase of her life.

Shaking his head to remove the worry-filled thoughts, he took deep breaths and turned around only to be left speechless because by Allah, the one who stood in front of him took his breath away just by her mere presence.

**********

Hmm, does that count as a cliffhanger? Or maybe not...because we all know humare Marwan miya kis par apni saans har baithe hai...

And, is it some alone time for my cuties to get closer or is it the warning to move away from the shore before the tsunami?!

OH I AM LOVING THIS!!

**********