17. The Eightieth Birthday

...

As the whispers of an engagement between the Fayyads and the Ahmads spread through the city, yet another Ramadan approached and left.

In between, the Rahman's annual party came and went. The Ahmad's were due their pre-Ramadan barbecue as well; but chose to opt out of it since Nargis Khatun wasn't in the best of condition, and her health seemed to be just deteriorating with time. The Fayyads hosted only an intimate iftaar party as opposed to the large gathering they usually invited.

It was a weekend after Eid when all the families gathered together, for the first time in the year, at Neela Bashir's invitation for her father's eightieth birthday.

General Jalal Ud-din Osmani, the grandfather of the Bashir children, was a man with a demanding presence. He was born and raised in one of the biggest slums in the country, joined their country's Liberation war whilst still a young man, emerged from it as a hero, and then played a significant role in the country's political scene until he retired.

Now he lived comfortably in his house on the outskirts of the city, nestled amongst acres of lands. Tales of his ruthless ways were passed onto all his children and grandchildren. The children grew up knowing he wasn't a man to mess with, and his hard gaze and sharp tongue, he was still a man that could cause trembles with just his name.

During every visit to the Osmani Residence, it was a mandatory custom for the men to sit with the old man and listen to him bark at them. He always sat in his easy chair at the veranda that stretched to the entire length of the house, with his freshly-squeezed orange juice and a decorative ashtray which was no longer in use.

"You industrialists have ruined the country, ruined it," it was one of his favorite things to hiss out at Arshad Fayyad. "I earned this land with my blood, and you have destroyed it with your greed."

No one ever dared to speak against him, of course. They just quietly drank the tea served and swallowed every bitter word with endurance.

Salman Bashir greeted his friends with his infamous lopsided grin on his lips, and a multi-colored children's sunglasses sitting on his nose - something his little cousin put on him and he never bothered to take off.

"Look who's finally back from the dead," Ibrahim said in a snide tone at his sight.

"My little birds have been whispering to me, and they tell me you've been asking about me," Salman replied, his smile turning sly. "Did you actually... secretly miss me, Sasquatch?"

"Don't flatter yourself." Ibrahim made a face. I was just asking out of courtesy."

Malika rolled her eyes and stepped in. She embraced her brother before he could retort, putting an end to their bickering. She handed Aisha to him, and the little girl immediately took a liking to him as he did to her. For the rest of the afternoon, Salman went around showing off his little niece to all their cousins, eyes brimming with joy.

Lunch was an elaborate affair. At least seven different kinds of fish had been cooked, and they were all caught from the lake within the Osmani's property; along with sautéed vegetables, and salad and chutney made with fresh fruits and herbs from the greenhouse.

It was late afternoon when Kaveh Fayyad returned to the dining area. Most people had already eaten and were resting under the shades provided by the towering mango trees. Dahlia, Ibrahim and Salman were waiting for Kaveh since he was yet to have lunch. Layla had shamelessly taken a place at the table with the elders, and just smiled sheepishly and said, "I'll just eat a second round with you guys."

"Where have you been?" Salman cried once sighting him. "It'll be evening soon."

"You know, same old," Kaveh replied. "Dad kept me busy."

"Your father's just overjoyed to have you back," Yasmine Fayyad said, shooting her sole son a look full of fondness. "It's been a year, but I think he's still not over the fact that you have returned to us for good. Not only that, you have decided to settle down with a girl who will respect your culture and uphold your family traditions. We could not be more glad," she added turning to Dahlia.

The girl had a stiff and awkward smile on her face as all eyes on the table turned to her. Yasmine Fayyad left after that. Salman was darting his eyes back and forth between Dahlia and his best friend, pure astonishment coating his eyes. "Wait..."

"Yup, these two are officially engaged as of last week," Ibrahim informed him.

Salman's eyes were still wide. "What?" he cried, whipping his head to look at Kaveh. "How?"

"You didn't know?" Layla asked with disbelief.

Kaveh's gaze locked with Salman's over the table, slightly uncomfortable. But before he could respond, Lily said, "that is a long story, man. A painstakingly long story. Do not ask for it if you want to eat."

There was a flurry of laughter around the table, "I guess I truly have been out of the loop," Salman added, forcing a grin. The conversation was steered in a different direction as they began eating lunch.

After their late lunch, the bunch walked around the open fields for a while. The girls were busy taking selfies and the elders were engrossed with gossip about the numerous childhood anecdotes of the Osmani children, especially of Salman's mischief. He had spent a good portion of his life running around these fields hiding from his grandfather, getting threatened to get sent to military school if he didn't learn to behave, but always knowing in his heart that would never happen because he was the apple of his Nana Jaan's eyes.

Kaveh slowed his steps as he glanced at Dahlia over his shoulder, who was a couple feet away from him. The sunny afternoon was morphing into a windy evening. With Summer came lots of rain, and even the sky today was hinting of its arrival soon.

"You've been looking gloomy since my mother's words during lunch," he stated, as soon as she was close enough.

Dahlia looked up to meet his gaze, hesitation forming in her eyes.

"Care to tell me why?"

"It's just, everyone keeps saying you don't want to be here, in our country," she started. "And I know it probably has nothing to do with me; but I can't help but feel like your decision to settle down with me, as Yasmine Aunty put it, is out of lack of a better choice. If you were given free will, you'd rather be anywhere else but here. And you definitely wouldn't be engaged to a girl your parents approve of."

"It's true, I wasn't given much free will regarding my decision to return," Kaveh replied. "However, I can assure you I haven't looked back since. I am where I belong, with my family and friends. As for my decision regarding you, I can say with utmost sincerity that it is happening according to my will. You have made my stay infinitely better, more than I could imagine."

His words flickered a foreign emotion on her face, one he hadn't seen before.

"If there's anyone that makes me glad I chose to stay, it's definitely you."

She looked away after that with a smile on her face, looking much happier than before. The wind had picked up, her dupatta and the end of her headscarf gently flying in the wind, her eyes were momentarily on her sisters and friends across the field. A thoughtful expression descended on Dahlia's face as she darted her gaze back on him again.

"I have to say though, I think what your parents did, force you to leave your life there, was very wrong of them."

Guilt pooled in her face the next second. Dahlia regretted letting her thoughts loose the moment they slipped out of her tongue.

"I'm sorry-"

"No, please. Don't be," he intervened. "You speak your mind, I like that."

Heat pooled in her cheeks at his words this time, ever so lightly. But it also encouraged her to keep speaking. "I understand them wanting you to be close to your family. However, forcing you to give up the life you wanted and making you switch your career is just unfair. It doesn't sit well with me, at least."

Kaveh didn't respond to that. But he sure looked more cheerful and unburdened after the conversation.

The rest of the sunlight slowly disappeared behind the horizon. The sky was getting dotted with stars. The guests were still chatting outside, now devouring light snacks. The General had been shifted to the courtyard too, his easy chair placed in a position from where he could keep an eye on everything.

Speculations regarding Jalal ud-din Osmani's will had been circulating the family for his last few birthdays. As his old age escalated, his children caused pressure on him to make an official statement.

General Osmani had declared, without a breath, that the majority of his properties were going to his favourite grandchild - Salman.

This was expected. The entire family had been dreading it. The man was shamelessly biased towards the eldest Bashir, and he never shied away from showing his affection. Salman and Malika's Nani Jaan used to claim that she had spent her entire marriage believing her husband was a man with a solid stone in his chest instead of his heart, until she saw him with Salman; but it still caused outrage amongst some family members.

Rashid Osmani was the natural heir. And Salman, after all, had his good-for-nothing father's blood running through his veins and he was related to this family through a female. His last name wasn't even Osmani. For them, it was like the illegitimate child demanding his unfair share.

"Did you have to announce your decision so publicly and with this much zeal?" Neela asked her father exasperatedly afterwards. "Couldn't you have just made it silently and eased the family into it? You know how your sons are, why do you invite trouble like this?"

"You want me to cower like a coward and hide like a thief?" he snarled at his daughter. "You want me to shy away from my own decision like a blushing woman? Why would I, why in God's name would I, keep my heart's desire hidden like a lowly-criminal's?"

After that, he made it a point to reinforce his decision in every subsequent family gathering. In fact, even this morning he gathered all his children and announced it again. Just out of spite.

Despite that, the rest of the family kept resisting him in hopes the old man would change his mind.

Salman Bashir was standing on the rooftop, pressed against the railing that surrounded the area, eyes on the view below him. Most of the men were lounging on the chairs and talking as loudly as possible. A few of the aunties were admiring his grandmother's precious flowers. The sky was inky black, with little glowing specks of stars embedded in it. The heavy smog that lingered in the heart of the city, did not exist here.

"Knew I'd find you here."

Kaveh's voice sliced through the night, drawing Salman's attention. His heavy footsteps padded against the floor and the next moment, Salman found his friend standing besides him.

"This is the one area of the house the elders can't get to because of the lofty stairs" Kaveh stated with a grin on his face. "So naturally this will be your hiding spot."

"Look who's turning into Sherlock," he retorted.

"Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, Salman."

"Ouch. My sense of humor is the only thing people aren't allowed to insult," he cried. "You should know that, Kaveh."

"My apologies, I thought it was your pretty face."

Salman chuckled. Their banter was put to a halt as more footsteps were heard. Seconds later, a few of the Osmani cousins stumbled through the gate.

"Aye, the man of the hour!" Zayan Osmani cried in his heavy, drawling voice, glinting eyes on Salman. "The official heir of the General," he announced.

The boys took their places around them. The playfulness that was previously on Salman's face, quickly disappeared.

Zayan stood face-to-face with him. "Rashid claimed your girl, so you stole his birthright," Zayan continued, a mocking smile playing on his lips.

"You might be your father's son, but for the first time in your life you have proved that you may after all have a little bit of Osmani in you too. I think I'll finally be able to admit in public that we share the same blood."

Boisterous laughter ensued.

"Never thought you had it in you, Bashir," Zayan spat the name as if it was an insult.

"Salman doesn't need to prove anything to anyone," Kaveh spoke sharply from behind, interrupting the boys. "But you may have to start contemplating your poor life choices as you don't have your grandfather's money to fall back on anymore. I've heard unemployment rates have gone up."

Their joy fell flat. There were murmurs of annoyance. Zayan rolled his eyes and said, "the young Fox, always a killjoy." Regardless, the boys lifted themselves off the railing and left in the direction they came from.

Salman unclenched his jaw and let out the breath he had been holding the entire time. A beat passed between them. He lifted his gaze to look at Kaveh again.

"Why didn't you tell me you were engaged to Dahlia?"

The discomfort in the air took a different form. Kaveh swallowed. "I didn't know how, or when, to break the news," he said.

"You should know that I would have been nothing less than ecstatic for you," Salman said earnestly. "despite what I'm going through," he added stiffly. "If there's anyone in this world I can be happy for, it's you."

Kaveh nodded his head, guilt coloring his face. "I know."

"Or have I become such a whiny, pathetic mess that my friends are now afraid to involve me in their happiness?"

"For God's sake, Salman," Kaveh scoffed, darting his gaze back to the crowd below them. "It's not like that."

"I should have informed you sooner." Kaveh finally lifted his eyes to meet his friend's gaze again. "I apologize."

"So, how did it happen?" Salman asked after a pregnant pause. A smile curved up his lips, clearing the tension between them. "How did someone like you manage to steal the heart of a sweet girl like Della-Delicious?"

"Beats me, mate." Kaveh shook his head in a clueless manner. "She's the one who proposed."

"Why am I not surprised?" Salman asked with a disappointed look. "Here I was hoping you at least batted your eyelashes at her the way I taught you to."

Kaveh let out a chuckle at his words. "What makes you think I didn't? Maybe that's why she decided to propose." Then he turned to face him once more. "And for God's sake, stop using that ridiculous nickname."

...

You guys, our babies are finally engaged and you all here invited to the wedding! Start shopping for lehenga and heels if you haven't already.

It has been an emotional day for both Salman and Kaveh. Let me know your thoughts on the Osmani-Bashir clan.