bonus | anabiya & meezan

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kehte hai khuda ne humari kismet likhi hui hai

phir, khuda se bus ye dua hai ki humari har kismet mein wo likhi ho

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"Meezan.. will you fall out of love with me once I give birth to our blueberry?" Anabiya questioned breaking the silence of their peaceful bedroom, the only sound heard was the slow ticking of the wall clock and the soft buzz of the air-conditioner giving away the sign of occupation in the room.

Her question was followed by silence, causing Anabiya to glare at her husband dearest who lay beside her on his stomach hugging her pregnancy pillow like it was his wife.

"Meezan!" Anabiya tched, nudging his shoulder in a sudden annoyance. How dare he sleep so peacefully when she was so troubled here!

Anabiya's nights were usually spent this way, sleep was a far cry, as her blueberry was definitely a night owl. She was often restless and conflicted with a mind full of unnecessary thoughts that plagued her. Sometimes she resorted to reading books or playing random games on her phone or worst case scenario she troubled Meezan until his ears bled out.

Today was the latter, there were days when Meezan had to leave for office the next day and he wouldn't have slept the entire night, but dare he even utter a word of protest against Anabiya's antics. He would just return home with a tired smile and bring her everything she demanded or didn't. Times like this, Anabiya's heart only ached at the amount of patience he held for her. If she was in his place she wouldn't have tolerated it at all. But he did.

Lucky for her, tomorrow was Sunday and she could have him all to herself. What a treat.

"Meezan!" Anabiya, cooed in his ear loudly this time, causing him to barely crack open his bloodshot sleep deprived eyes, humming at his wife.

"Will you fall out of love with me once our blueberry comes?" She repeated the question pouting, as her hands brushed away a few stray strands of hair away from his face.

"Biya" Meezan let out a disgruntled sound as he pulled her down beside him, so that she was lying down.

"What?" She continued pouting, when he pushed her pregnancy pillow away and wrapped his warm arms around her waist, as her head rested on top of his chest. His beating heart.

"Not again, meri jaan." Meezan mumbled as he softly caressed her hair with his long finger's causing her to sigh in odd satisfaction.

"Bolein Na. Ek Aakhri baar. Mera dil tham sa jaata hai humare future ke baare mein sochte waqt. What if we aren't able to manage it? What if our blueberry hates me? What if you run out of patience to deal with my tantrum and..." before Anabiya could finish with her, hormone ridden overthinking thoughts, Meezan had pulled her upwards . So that she was facing him, lying completely on him, although careful enough to not hurt their blueberry.

"Biya" He breathed out tiredly, his eyes scanning her tear-filled ones. Her cheeks were a little more chubbier than they usually were, her skin glowed like she was the moon itself and her lips were more plumper than any fruits could ever be. He could only wonder how someone as beautiful as her would end up having so many insecurities. "I don't think I can fall more in love with you than I already have. I can't imagine—" Meezan suddenly halted, his nose snipping her cheeks as he groaned in disbelief.

"Biya! I don't believe you! How are you so careless!" He got up, as she clinged onto his body like a koala, rubbing her face in his neck.

"I was helpless okay, my blueberry was hungry."

"Sweetheart, why am i here? Why do you have a husband? That pizza was two days old, its not good for you or our blueberry." He replied back emphasising the "our" as he dusted off the minute sprinkles of oregano flakes from her hair.

"But, you are tired. You haven't slept properly in days! I didn't want to disturb you." Anabiya pouted as she snuggled closer into her dearest husband who cocooned her like she was meant to be.

"I am more tired of the fact that you didn't wake me up when you were hungry and instead had that stale pizza. I will be more tired if you fall sick tomorrow." Meezan exclaimed sternly, his voice betraying his eyes. He wanted to be strict with her, but alas the love that he held for this woman overpowered all his other emotions.

In response he was rewarded with a soft head butt on his shoulder, to which he replied but sighing and caressing her head softly before he placed a kiss on her forehead.

"Tell me know, what are you craving?"

"You!" She replied back enthusiastically, causing Meezan to choke back on his spit. She used this line all the time on him, and yet it always seemed to make him get caught off guard. His skin flustered at the thought of being devoured by the likes of Anabiya Ibrahim, his seductress of a wife.

Over their years together Meezan had realised something, Anabiya's love language was physical touch, while he realised after taking the quiz on buzzfeed that his was acts of service. He wouldn't lie though, he loved it when Anabiya mindlessly touched him. Her fingers threading through his hair, creating patterns on his palms & thighs, showering him with loads of butterfly kisses all over his face, snuggling on his lap like it was her throne. Its just that sometimes he felt like she owned his body more than him. Whatever it was he was grateful for her. She was the reward that Allah had granted to him without any trial.

"Biya Jaan, I am not available for use tonight. My sincerest apologies, so, anything else that you might be craving?" Meezan replied back, his cheeks still on fire, as he nuzzled his head in her hair.

"No, Meezan Jaan. I am pretty full as of now, but tomorrow for breakfast I want nutella & banana crepes!"

"Yes, ma'am!" When he gazed down at his wife, he found her already groggy with sleep slowly filling her senses, so, like the doting husband that he is, he gently pulled her towards himself as he lay back down on the bed covering the both of them with the duvet.

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"Are you ready yet? We are just going to the grocery shop!" Meezan called out to his wife for the fourth time, as he fixed his glasses with one hand and typed an email with the other.

There was no 'just five more minutes' screamed back at him this time, causing his mind to reel into a plethora of overthinking about the well being of his very pregnant wife.

Shoving his phone in the back pocket, he quickly walked to their bedroom, hoping for everything to be alright. As he reached the room a sigh of relief left his mouth as he saw his wife, dressed in a floor length floral black maxi dress, as she stood in front of the mirror applying a bright crimson lip shade, taking his breath away.

"I felt like dressing up today! Don't I look pretty, Meezan?" She beamed looking at him through the mirror, her kohl lined eyes flickering at him with adoration.

"You look gorgeous!" Meezan mumbled in a daze, clearly lost in her beauty. It's not that she didn't look any less pretty everyday, but right now that bold red lip on her pouty lips had all his attention. In that moment she could've asked him for the world and he would sell himself to give her just that.

"Can you come here? I need to dab off the excess lipstick." She innocently questioned, still looking at him through the mirror, her hands clasping the lipstick tube shut.

Meezan pulled out his white kerchief from his pocket and shuffled towards her in beguilement, before standing just behind her. Anabiya giggled out a little as she turned around, taking the kerchief from his hand and slowly draping it around his neck, her doe-like eyes boring into his hypnotized ones.

Suddenly she pulled both the ends of the kerchief that lay in her hand, jerking it down toward her, so that he was leaning over her. Meezan's hands instinctively moved towards her protruding waist, stabilizing himself.

Anabiya slowly lifted her head and pressed a soft kiss against his right cheek, leaving a pretty red lipstick mark against his already blushing cheeks, before moving to his other cheek. Her hands slipped away from the corners of the kerchief letting it hang loosely from his neck, before they made their way up to the nape of his neck, admiring her art work.

Meezan stood at her mercy, covered in lipstick marks, eyes shut close as he breathed heavily. What a gorgeous art piece of a man he was. Giggling at him, she leaned up on her toes, now kissing his forehead, the nose and finally his lips. She let out soft giggles in between the pecks that she rewarded him with, to her it seemed like her stomach was filled with all sorts of butterflies yet it was the calmest she had ever been in life. So unafraid, so loved, so grateful. With him, she fell in love but the falling part was over, it was just love.

Just love so pure that it makes you wonder if Allah ne hume use koi neki ke badle mein hi nawaza hai. Bus wo nahi to hum toot jaate kab ka, bus wo nahi hota to hume sukoon ka asli matlab kabhi nahi maloom padta, jeena kabhi nahi aata. Mubabbat mein sukoon hai, khuda ki ibadat jaisa. Yunhi mein nilaam hai mubabbat zindagi ke bazaar mein, jab insan hai jo is muhabbat ko iflas karne par tule hain.

And to Meezan it felt no less, it felt like he was inhaling laughter, laughter and giggles of a person he loved beyond words could comprehend. What more would someone ask for.

"Meezan.." Anabiya called out softly, her voice filled with a certain mischief causing him to flicker his eyes open, gazing down at her.

"I was never an artist, but look how pretty I have painted you."

Meezan smiled back, shaking his head as he wiped a smidge of lipstick that was outside the contours of her lip, before leaning down and placing a small kiss right there. Just then Anabiya jumped up, bumping her forehead with his.

"Tshh! Meezan, you are so clumsy" the kettle said, calling the pot black, as she rubbed her forehead, holding his palm and placing it on her bump. "Can you feel it? Our Blueberry just moved!"

Hearing this Meezan quickly got down on his knees, hands wrapped around her bump as he leaned his ear against it. Suddenly a few moments later there it was again, the light shifting in her womb, followed by a few enthusiastic kicks!

"Masha'Allah, blueberry wants to be the next Ronaldo!" Anabiya exclaimed, clapping enthusiastically as Meezan got up from his knees and placed a kiss on the side of her head, mumbling a few duas as he moved towards the closet grabbing a pair of comfortable strappy pumps, before he sat down cross legged on the floor before her.

"Can we name him Cutubuddin Ronaldo?! Pleasee!" Anabiya bellowed out, now overstimulated as she held onto her husband's shoulders, while he slipped both the pumps on her feet, before starting to strap them.

"Anabiya! No! We don't even know the gender yet!" Meezan replied back calmly, even though he was scandalized by the absurdity of the name his wife had suggested.

"Cathija Ronaldo for a girl then?"

"No, Sweetheart. If we were naming a cat I would consider these names, but it's our blueberry. We don't want him/her to get bullied right?"

"Haww! how dare anyone bully my blueberry! I am going to teach my blueberry karate— wait, imagine a blueberry in the karate costume, buhahah!" And there it was another symptom resulting from pregnancy. Hysteria.

Meezan got up from the floor dusting his pants, as he picked up his wallet and keys and held his blabbering wife's hand as they went outside to get the groceries. Suddenly, Anabiya pulled at his hand stopping him. Raising a brow at his wife in question, he sighed in exasperation.

"Biya! We are already getting late, at this rate we are never going to eat lunch!"

"I won't mind you flaunting my art to the world, but I know you will die of embarrassment if it happens, so shut up for a minute will you." Anabiya said straight faced or at least tried to, as she removed a wet wipe from her purse and dabbed it across his face, trying to remove the marks made by her semi permanent vinyl lipstick.

At the end of it, all that was left was a slightly red-faced Meezan Zardari with patches and blotches of red scattered across his face. It looked like he had suffered a bad case of rashes.

"Is it okay now? My face feels itchy." Meezan mumbled in confusion as he scratched his neck, while Anabiya bit her lip humming, trying not to break out laughing. Her poor husband.

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The couple had decided to postpone grocery shopping as they were beyond hungry and instead now sat in a cozy restaurant, talking about random things, mostly about their blueberry who was going to make his/her grand entrance soon. Oh, do you know why they called it blueberry? Well because both of them were beyond mad for blueberry cobbler. Their first kiss was over blueberry cobbler. Every month they had an entire pot of blueberry cobbler just because of how much they fiended over the precious dessert. So naturally until their child came they decided to call it blueberry. Their precious blueberry.

Anabiya wanted a boy, who she wanted to raise just like his father, just a little less shy and innocent but nonetheless like him. Meezan wanted a girl, because he knew how handful boys are, especially a boy that was like his wife would cause him to turn gray before he could imagine. He wanted a boy eventually but his first priority was a girl. A girl who would keep him on his toes and be the most precious thing to have ever existed. Just like his wife. Although, at the end of the day anything would be a gift. A gift that they as parents were going to try protecting and loving the same.

Soon enough their order arrived, a beef mediterranean platter for Meezan and a lemon chicken with a side of yellow rice and salad for Anabiya.

"Meezan! What about Anzan?" Anabiya questioned suddenly as she dived into her scrumptious lemon chicken.

"Anzan who?"

"Arey! Humara hone waala baccha! La hawla wala quwata! Kya bhulakkad Baba banenge aap. Tauba hai."

(Our unborn child. What a forgetful father you will become)

"Anabiya! No, meri jaan. Why would we name our kid Anzan? It sounds like amazon." Meezan mumbled distraught, as he cut into his chicken and placed a few pieces on his wife's plate to which she grinned happily.

"Uff Buddu! It's the combination of both our names. Anabiya ka An and Meezan ka Zan. Everyone names their kids the combination of their own names. How do you not know this? Its a new trend."

"Is it?" Meezan grumbled this time at his lack of general knowledge. Why was it always his wife who was telling him new pieces of information?

"What would you do without me, Kaneez Meezan?" Anabiya giggled, as she happily munched on her food, like always leaving her husband with a mind full of confused thoughts about his intellectual capacity.

Meezan now forwarded his untouched portion of fries towards Anabiya like he always did whenever they went out to restaurants that served them. Most of the time Anabiya resorted to never ordering a portion for herself because Meezan always gave her his.

Anabiya this time, pushed a fry dipped in ketchup towards him, trying to be silly. But, to her surprise he accepted the fry and munched on it. She forwarded a few more fries in his direction and to her utter puzzlement he devoured them within a few seconds.

"Meezan, you like fries? I always assumed you didn't."

"I do like them" He smiled cheekily, as he fixed his glasses and continued eating the rest of his meal. "But, I know you love them, everytime I give you mine, you smile like you have the entire world in your palms. Seeing you smile like that is worth a few fries."

Anabiya's heart melted into a puddle. Like the warmth of your favourite candle. Like the first sip of coffee on a winter morning. Because for years she had wholeheartedly believed he disliked fries. That was the only plausible reason right?

He loved them.

But he just loved her more. He didn't vocalize it as much as her but he loved her for sure, maybe more than she loved him.

"Meezan.." Anabiya's lips trembled as she spoke out, her eyes filling with tears. "I—" this finally caused him to look up at her, leaping him into a state of panic in an instant.

"Are you okay?"

"Why.. would you... s-acrifice.. your fries f-or me?!" She cried out, fully bawling now. The people around them peered at Meezan in utter shunning.

"Biya! Stop crying, meri jaan. I don't like them so much that you have to waste your tears over them." He got up, and stood beside her pulling her head to his waist and rubbed her back in attempts to soothe her but she only cried more.

"No!" Anabiya wailed, as she stared at the fries on her plate with a look of betrayal, before popping them in her mouth. How tratious they were! Couldn't they have told her to stop stuffing her face?! Just looking at them made her mad so she ate them.

"It's okay. Please stop crying." Meezan pleaded to avoid the gazes of the other customers on him and his pregnant wife.

"Meezan!" She suddenly wailed painfully, causing him to stiffen in caution. "I think I am going into labour!"

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Standing inside the labor room with his wife crying in pain, clutching his hand was the worst feeling Meezan had felt. He couldn't imagine what his wife was going through, just her painful grunts and fatigued face was all he could remember. To think men have it difficult was such an insult to everything a woman faced or had to go through. Finally after 2 hours of pain, their little girl was born.

When he held her tiny body in his arms, his fingers shivered and tears flowed down his cheeks. What a magnificent baby she was. Big mocha eyes like her mother, a button nose that seemed to be a genetic combination of both of her parents, her plump lips and mop of hair was just like his and seemingly enough her pink cheeks resembled his whenever her mother made him blush.

When Anabiya first saw their blueberry, her brutal words were, "Meezan, why does she look like a potato? Did we genetically create a beautiful potato? She was afterall not a blueberry"

With this she cackled away like a gorilla under the anesthetic effect of drugs sending her into delirium.

What do you ask did our babies name their blueberry-slash-potato? They named her aptly to how she made them feel.

Ayah. Miracle.

Ayah Meezan Zardari.

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