Chapter 1.

The lore of yesteryears is what keeps him up at night. Inside his bed, dreams of what is ; was and will be, keep him from sleeping — and everything in between is a sweet memory, a dream he must achieve.

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It was a wonder really — June in Lahore a serious mystery. How did the air get so heavily crisp that it weighed down on their souls but at the same time, its weightlessness was the reason behind a hundred respiratory problems. The backs of the people were almost always drenched in sweat, their clothes despite having been stitched with great care clung to the skins. Men discarded their shirts and the insolent women used their veils to fan themselves. Every street, road or curb was covered with mirages of water, the bright sunlight baked the open tarmac, the wide branches of the thick trees fried and crisped, falling to their early demise.

In such hot weather, the election commission was at full work. Day in and out, nominees were invited to present their cases, wether they would be deemed worthy or not for a position depended solely on the commission, the very first step to make a dream come true. For many it was cause of alert, signs of worry ran rampant through the capital city of Punjab. In the midst of such havoc, a large bungalow stood in the middle of model town, the gardens spread for acres behind the home, white unmarked walls glinted under the sunlight, servants rushing in and out, luxury calls rolling in and out of the garage by the minute.

In the spacious lounge, the large glass windows allowed plenty of sunlight in, the clock was striking nine in the morning, breakfast had just been done with for almost all the members of the clan. Everyone, except for the eldest couple had left for their works. Today, they were taking a day off, their son had just returned from a tour to England to meet his father's mentors, the day called for a break in routine. Lyana, dressed in a ivory cotton kurti with capris trousers, stepped inside the lounge. Behind her a servant followed with their morning tea, Alamgeer already seated on one of the felted ottomans, reading the daily newspaper.

"Are you done with your daily reading?" Lyana took seat by his side.

"Just about, is he up?" He looked up at her, his eyes flickering momentarily to the peacocks fluttering in the lawn.

"Not yet. Please Alamgeer, I let him sleep in on purpose," she rested a hand on his bicep.

"You don't have to offer any explanations my love. I'm glad you let him sleep in. Lilah left for her morning class?"

"She did".

"Who drove her?"

Lilah, their youngest born, drove to her university with him every morning. It was their time, the few moments she held his undivided attention — not that she lacked it.

"Aliyaar, he said he'd drop her before leaving". Lilah replied.

Stirring the milk into the porcelain tea cup, she passed it to him, holding her own as she leaned into his embrace. Alamgeer rested one of his hands behind her on the sofa, folding the crisp manilla pages into a neat line, crossing his legs against each other.

"Didn't he have an important meeting?"

"He did, but you know how he is — how everyone is when it comes to her".

"Yeh tou hai, sab ki ladli hai woh," he smiled.
[That is true, she is everyone's favorite.]

"Mama called a while ago, she was asking when do we host the milad, call her and let her know okay?"

Alamgeer's burning gaze settled on her face, even after three decades of marriage their love for each other was as strong as ever. His hands brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, his thumb brushing against the soft planes of her cheek.

"I will. I was thinking to arrange it for this weekend, right before Arham is supposed to go to the election commission. I can't believe our children are that old now".

Lyana's eyes held in them a tiny mist, tears threatening to escape her eyes as she thanked God inside her heart for the many blessings He had bestowed upon them.

"It is hard to believe, they've made us proud haven't they?"

"They have," she nodded in agreement.

"Anyways, let the kids know we have a dinner to attend at a minister's place tonight. We'll leave by seven," he spoke, sipping the lukewarm tea.

"Pehlay batana tha na, ap ko Lilah ka pata hai," [You should have told me before, you know Lilah,] she sighed.

"Lilah knows, she gave the green light. Trust me a bit my love," he grinned.

"Okay then — let me go and wake Arham up, it's almost nine thirty, he loathes sleeping in".

Thick plum velveteen curtains hung from the top of the ceilings all the way to the ground, grazing the marble floors lightly. A round bed with a deep purple headboard covered the wall to the left of the large door, silken sheets covering the toned body. With air conditioning on full blast, there was no sign of the cruel summer that lingered in the world outside. Luggage discarded in a messy heap was thrown in one corner, slippers discarded carelessly at the end of the bed. The thick wooden door opened slowly, sunlight peaking in to gently stroke the handsome back, as Lyana entered. Her eyes stilled, a proud smile made it's way on her face as she caught sight of Arham's back, noticing that it was bare she motioned for the workers to stay out, closing the door behind her.

Taking small, silent steps Lyana crossed the span of the bedroom. The chilly wind smacked her on the head and she instantly felt a headache coming on due to it's intensity. Raising the temperature, she opened the curtains just the slightest, taking seat on the bed beside her son. Her thin fingers brushed through the lightly curled locks, her nails scratching the skin of his neck and upper back. The touch of her fingers followed shortly by the warmth of her lips, soft kisses spanning the length of his shoulders.

"Mama don't stop," he groaned, blindly holding his hand and placing it on his neck again.

"Why shouldn't I?" She teased.

"Please. It feels so good, I feel all my tensions from this past week fall away," he sighed.

Opening one eye, he looked at her, kissing the inside of her palm, he changed sides. The blanket slipped lower, his well defined abs on full display as he rested his head in her lap. Lyana kissed his cool forehead, massaging the sides of his head with maternal bliss filling her being. Arham relished the warmth from his mother's palm too, it had been too long since he had last felt like a young child, basking in the arms of his mother.

"What do you want for breakfast?"

"Ap keh haath ka paratha," he grinned at just the thought of it.

[A paratha (bread) of your hand.]

"Aur us keh saath?" She stared at him with fondness.

[And what do you want with it?]

"A fried egg please".

"Go shower and come down, I'll go make it," she patted his shoulder.

"Going. Also where is Lilah? I got her favorite raspberry chocolates".

"She's at university. Give them to her once she's back, also what did you get Aliyaar?"

"Nothing. He makes more than me, can afford everything himself," he chuckled.

"Tsk. That's not nice!" She slapped his back.

"I'm kidding mama, I got him his favorite cologne, abu I got some cigars — for you I've got your favorite Lindt dark chocolates".

"Now we're talking! Although please don't encourage your father's habit of smoking," she tsked.

"You know none of us do, but the poor man smokes only a few times a month".

"I know, but I'd rather he stop altogether. Anyways, go shower, also keep your evening free we have to go to a dinner".

"Meri shaam kahan busy honi hai? Konsa koi mehbooba line laga kar khari hain," Arham teased.

[Why are my evenings going to be busy? Its not like there is a line of lovers standing outside.]

Lyana shook her head at his cheeky attitude, a sigh of relief escaping her lips, her son was home and he was finally the hints of the man he used to be. In his eyes, that steered themselves on to the ground at almost all times, she could see the parts of him that they had lost, to situations and society.

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"I'm thinking that I should go and get Lilah".

Arham's eyes had been wavering between the files placed on his father's desk — that before him belonged to their grandfather — and the large dial wall clock behind the towering figure of his father. His mother sat beside him, a porcelain saucer in front of her, the tea bag swimming inside the warm water. A plate of cookies rested in front of his parents and a tray of sandwiches — made with tuna paste and lettuce especially requested by him, a reminder of all the school lunches their mother packed for them.

"Aliyaar will get her on his way back from the site visit near the railway station," his father dismissed the idea.

Peaking at him from behind his rimless spectacles, his fingers gripped around a tight leather bound journal. The cap of his delicate ink pen, made of black jade and a tip of welded gold — an anniversary gift from their mother, rested carelessly on the mahogany table top, the pen in between his lips as he wrote and cancelled out ideas.

"I always pick her on Tuesday's," Arham reminded.

His mother's hand reached out, patting the back of his, a small delicate smile thrown in his direction.

"You've been gone three weeks, she was mentally prepared for Aliyaar to come get her, in fact they should almost be home now".

"Itni jaldi?" [So soon?] Alamgeer spoke, taking a sip out of the tea cup he continued, "uski akhri class tou teen bajay shuru hoti hai aur abhi tou sirf do bajay hain". [Her last class starts at three and it's only two right now.]

"There's a performing arts event going on at her university. There was going to be no class after twelve today," Lyana gently explained to the two hot headed men.

"Lilah isn't attending? She love's such festivals".

"She was complaining of a headache this morning, although she insisted her brother's accompany her to the food festival in racecourse tomorrow".

"Headache?" Both he and his father sounded alarmed.

"Lya jaan ap nai usai chuti karwa leni thi, itni garmi hai aur upar sai sar dard, pata nahi kitni takleef mein ho gi humari bachi". [Lya my life you should have asked her take a day off, it's too hot and a headache on that, who knows how much pain our daughter would have been in.]

Before his mother could say something in her defense, the door to the office was thrown open and a giggling Lilah burst into the room with Aliyaar in tow, her hands holding a plastic cup filled to the top with vanilla ice cream. Crushed nuts and chocolate sauce thrown on top of it. The two greeted everyone loudly, Lilah jumping into his arms. Arham smiled down at her ice cream covered face, wiping the melted cream from the back of his hand he kissed her forehead. Her attention was then thrown on to her mother, who received a hug and kiss before she finally ran to her father's side, hugging him, placing a kiss on his bearded cheek. Arham hugged his elder twin brother, slapping his back tight, whilst their sister got comfortable on the arm of their father's chair.

"Lilah if you had a headache why did you go to university?" Alamgeer questioned.

"Mama said take day off but Yaar said I should be brave and he even got me an ice cream for it!"

"Aliyaar!"

"Lilah tell your father you had an exam today".

To that she nodded her head in silence, the plastic scoop held by her teeth as she sucked the ice cream off of it, her head rested on her father's bicep, legs moving the rotating chair back and forth.

"Bhai?"

"Ji?" [Yes?]

"What did you get me?"

"Let's go to my bedroom, I'll show you what I got everybody, okay?" Arham spoke standing up from his seat.

"Okay let's go! Yaar you come too".

"Okay abu ki titli". [Father's butterfly].

"Let me take these, come on Lilah". Arham grinned, sliding the tray of sandwiches off of the table, throwing an arm around her shoulders the trio walked out.

Like the good old times.

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That's a wrap on chapter one.
I know it's small, the initial ones are shorter but it's because I wanted to keep it to the point.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter.
I've been waiting for you guys to read our boy Arham cause he is the king.

Leave your thoughts right here ✨

Keep me in your prayers gulaab jamuns🥺❤️

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Love,
qanootshahid14

New chapter out - June, 19, 2022.