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Iman

They were in my room when I wasn't even home. They were going through my wedding jewellery.

And this is what Ghazala Phupho had the audacity to say to me: "Beta, ab aap is ghar ke taur tareekay seekhlo. Pichlay ghar ke taur taeekay yahan nahin chalne."

*"Dear, you need to learn the mannerisms of this house. The mannerisms of your previous home won't apply here."

If these were the mannerisms of this house, I'd die before I apply them. "I'm sorry?"

"Don't be." Phupho looked pleased, as if I had legit just apologised for my actions. "It's okay. You're young. You'll learn."

"I'm not apologising. I'm confused." I looked at my mother-in-law. 

"Confused about what?" 

"In my room... My jewellery." I couldn't even form proper sentences, but I was literally stunned that my normally sensible mother-in-law had allowed this to happen.

"What's the big deal?" Ghazala Phupho stood up. "Main kehndi payi si thano, Bhabi. Aino ai gal nai pasand aaway gi." 

*"I told you, Bhabi. She won't like this."

"Iman, we are your elders. What is the harm if I show Ghazala Phupho your jewellery?" Mrs Bukhari's voice was filled with disappointment.

I pictured myself screaming at the top of my lungs. I really, really wanted to do that right now. "I understand you're my elders, but this is my room, my space. I will happily show you my jewellery myself, but it's a request to you, let this room remain my own personal space where I can retain some privacy."

"Astaghfirullah!" Ghazala Phupho gasped dramatically as if I'd sworn at her. 

"Not entering someone's bedroom is a basic etiquette, and it's respecting people's privacy." I said. "I'm sorry if either of you are offended, but I would like to have some privacy in my room." 

"Come on, Ghazala Baji." Mrs Bukhari told her. "Let's go downstairs." 

"Badtameezi ki misaal hai yeh nasal. Humare khandaan ki aulaadon ki jurat na ho aise apne badon ke saath salok karne ki." Ghazala Phupho lightly shoved me as she walked past me.

*"This generation is an example of insolence. The kids of our family won't have the audacity to treat their elders that way." 

"The elders of my family don't walk into married couples' bedrooms behind their back and go through their stuff." I lost control over my mouth.

"Iman." Mrs Bukhari looked annoyed with me. "I think you should go and stay with your parents while Ghazala Baji is staying here. I really don't wish for her to be insulted any further."

I looked at her, shocked. Was she joking? Was she asking me to leave my own house for this fasadan? I didn't move because my mind couldn't understand how my mother-in-law's behaviour could change so drastically.

"Are you going or shall I call Jasmina Bhabi?" 

I saw the look on Ghazala Phupho's face and I've never wanted to smash someone's face into a brick wall as I wanted to smash her smug face right now. I looked at Mrs Bukhari. "You have always supported me, Aunty. I'm really hurt that you are making me leave, when I have done nothing wrong. Please take the time to think about who was really wrong in this situation."

Mrs Bukhari looked thoughtful for a few seconds.

"She is manipulating you, Bhabi!" Ghazala Phupho called out as she noticed that my mother-in-law might actually listen to me.

"I'll call Taif and discuss this with him first." I went into my room and closed the door behind me, feeling my whole body tremble. I grabbed my phone and dialled his number. 

"Assalam Alaikum, Iman." 

"Walaikum Assalam." I took a deep breath. "Taif, I have been asked to go to my parents' house for a few days, so that's exactly what I am going to do."

"What? Why?" He sounded shocked.

"We'll discuss this later. But honestly, I can't be here until Ghazala Phupho is here anyway." I told him. 

"She's still here? Oh, for the love of Allah! What did she do now?" 

"We'll talk later. I just wanted to let you know."

"Listen, Iman. You go there for now, but I will come there after my shift and we'll come home together. This is not done. Nobody can ask you to leave the house just like that. We'll talk it out later."

"I'm going to go crazy here, Taif." 

He sighed. "I know, Iman. Look, just go to your parents' house for now. We'll think of a solution." 

****

I sat at the side of my parents' house, hidden from view, as I cried my eyes out. I wanted to dry myself off all sad emotions before I faced my mother. She would know in a blink of an eye that something was wrong. Sadly enough, this was the only place for me to cry right now. I couldn't even get the privacy in my own bedroom at home.

Ya Allah, give me strength. The strongest of trees can be uprooted by powerful storms, and that's how I feel right now. I am trying to remain grounded, I'm trying to remain strong, but that conniving, manipulative behaviour around me is pulling me from my roots.

I dabbed at my eyes with a clean tissue from my bag, and then applied my eyeline. My eyes still looked swollen, but I could just say that it was lack of sleep. Getting up, I headed towards the front of the house, and rang the doorbell.

The door opened a few minutes later, and Mama looked at me surprised. "Iman?"

"Assalam Alaikum, Mama meri jaan." I wrapped my arms around her, grinning widely. "Your favourite child is here. Speaking of least favourite, tell me Hani Appi is around."

"Walaikum Assalam!" She lightly smacked my upper arm. "Behave, Iman. And no, Hani isn't here. Hassam had to have his vaccinations, so Hani and Hamza took him to the GP's." She pulled away, studying my face carefully. "Are you okay?" 

"Just tired, Mama. Started work early this morning." I walked past her into the house. "I thought of coming by and checking in on you." I looked over my shoulder at her. "What's to eat?" 

"Well, there's aloo keema from last night. I can make you roti with it. Or whatever you feel like, I'll make it."

I turned away and headed upstairs. "Let me just go freshen up and I'll be back. I'll have keema and toast."

But by the time I came back, Mama was already making roti. I stood in the kitchen doorway, watching her. Her hair was tied back from her face, and she was wearing an apron. She had her lips pursed as she really focused on making the roti, as if she was in a cooking competition or something. She'd always given us love and warmth, always kept us sheltered, and no matter how rebellious I was, I had always known that in the worst of times, she would always take care of me and Hani Appi. How can a girl go from being so love and sheltered by her parents, to such a cruel, harsh environment? And how are such girls expected to protect their mental health?

She looked up. "Come on. Have the first one, it's just about ready. Haaye, main taras gayi hoon bani banayi garam garam roti khanay ke liye. Jab tak main hoon, mazay lelo, Mani."

*"Oh, I'm yearning for ready made, fresh roti. Until I am alive, enjoy these things, Mani."

I walked and wrapped my arms around her. "May Allah give you a long life and good health. May you outlive me. Ameen."

"Astaghfirullah!" She looked genuinely offended. "Khabardaar dobara aisi baat ki!" 

*"Don't you dare say that again!"

I took a seat at the kitchen table. "I'm going to sleep till late evening after this. I'm so tired."

She set a plate of keema and roti onto the table in front of me.

I began to eat, and it was so, so good. "I missed Mama-made food." And the peace of this house. And the warmth. And the love. And the lack of taunts...well, actually, I still had taunts, but even taunts by parents have love behind them.

She grabbed a mineral water bottle from the fridge and placed it on the table in front of me, before sitting down opposite me. 

"How are you feeling now?" I looked at her. "Did you eat?" 

"Yes, I did. Don't worry about me."

"How can I not worry about you?" I asked. 

"I'm fine, Alhumdulillah. As long as you and Hani are happy in your marital lives and family, I am fine."

"Just me and Hani Appi? What about doctor sahab?" I teased her.

"Doctor sahab ka khayal rakhne ke liye to main hoon na." She smiled.

*"I am here to take care of the doctor."

"Ma Sha Allah. May Allah give you both many, many more blissful years to come. Ameen."

"Ameen." Her cheeks turned pink. 

I stood up. "I'm going to go and sleep, Mama."

"Okay, meri jaan. But tell me, will Taif be coming today? I can prepare something good for dinner."

"I am not sure. Don't worry about any formalities though." I headed out. 

I ran up to my room. My room. When I opened the door, I got a strong sense of nostalgia. How at peace was I in this home, in this room?

I fell asleep almost instantly in this very non-toxic environment.

*

"Mani?" 

"Hmm?"

"Wake up, Mani. Mama said you've been asleep for hours." 

I opened my eyes and I saw that it was now dark. The only light coming was from the doorway, where Hani Appi was standing in the doorway. "Go away, Appi."

She didn't go away. Instead, she closed the door and, using her phone light, walked over to my bed. "Iman, you didn't tell me you were coming!"

"Why, were you going to spread out a red carpet for me?" I sat up, knowing that sleep was impossible when Hani Appi was in the mood to talk. I've had this experience since childhood.

She turned on the lamp, and turned off her phone torch, before sitting on the bed side me. "Is everything okay?"

"All rainbows and sunshine, don't worry." I brushed my hair away from my face.

"You don't want to worry Mama, I understand that. But you can talk to me, Mani."

She was wrong. I didn't just want to worry my parents, I didn't want to worry Hani Appi either.

"Why can't I come to my parents' house without people assuming that something happened?" I rolled my eyes. "Mama was unwell recently, and I wanted to come and see her."

"Are you sure?" She studied my face carefully, looking exactly like our mother.

"Trust me, even if there was a problem, I'd deal with it. You know I enjoy challenges." I moved closer and wrapped my arm around her shoulders. "But there isn't any problem. I wanted to see Mama."

"Good. May Allah keep you away from all problems. Ameen." 

"Why are you so emotional recently regarding me? I'm the same mean sister of yours." 

"No, you're not. You're our sweetheart Mani who likes to act tougher than she is."

"Gag me." I shoved her lightly and got off the bed.

****

After freshening up, when I headed downstairs, I was happy to see Papa was home.

"Assalam Alaikum, Doctor sahab." I leaned down to kiss his cheek as he sat watching TV on the sofa.

"Walaikum Assalam!" He looked surprised. "Mina, bataya nahin tha aap ne ke aaj to VIP aaye huay hain." He looked at Mama as she entered the room.

*"Mina, you didn't tell me that we have VIP over."

I sat down beside him. "Before you ask, I came to check up on Mama. Everything is fine. Nobody needs to worry about anything. I'm only saying this because Mama and Hani Appi are already overthinking."

Hania Appi also came into the living room, and walked to the travel cot where Hassam was sleeping.

"Oh, my Hassam!" I jumped up, rushing to see my nephew. "Where are the other two Team Khalla?" 

"They went to watch a cartoon film with Hamza." Appi replied. "They've been begging him for so long."

"Taif called." Mama told me. "He was trying to call you, but you were asleep. He'll be here soon."

I stiffened. I didn't want to go home. I didn't want to deal with family politics again. I wanted to be here, where I had peace and security.

"Hania, please come and help me in the kitchen. Iman, if Hassam wakes up, please check on him." Mama instructed us, before heading out. Appi followed out immediately, always adorably like Mama's shadow.

We sat in silence for a while. I was staring blankly at the TV screen, not paying attention. 

"What time do you start work tomorrow?" Papa asked, glancing at me.

"Two in the afternoon."

"You?"

"I'm actually going out of city for a surgery tomorrow." 

"Can I come?" I was only half joking.

"One day, In Sha Allah." 

Again, there was silence, as he watched the news on Pakistani politics, meanwhile I had an internal dilemma. Finally, I surrender, and decided that I needed adult wisdom.

"Papa?" 

"Hmm?"

"Is it wrong to politely ask an adult not to do something? Is it disrespectful or rude?" 

He frowned slightly, looking at me. "It depends, Mani. If they are doing something immoral, no harm in saying something respectfully. And you know, when it comes to doing something that goes against Islam, you can even ask your parents to stop doing it, let alone anyone else. But no matter what, remain polite, never be rude."

"It's just...this colleague at work. He's on the same level as me, but he's much older. He is doing somethings which he shouldn't be doing, but I don't want to say anything in case he gets offended."

He looked thoughtful for a while, before he spoke again. "I'd say you need to assess the situation, Iman. You need to ask yourself whether their actions will cause harm or problems, and whether their actions will negatively impact other people. If yes, then there's absolutely no harm in politely asking someone to stop doing something."

Well, Ghazala Phupho was negatively impacting Mrs Bukhari's thinking, as well as poisoning the environment of our home. I didn't do anything wrong by asking them to respect my boundaries. I wasn't rude or disrespectful.

"I'll give you an example." He added, almost as a second thought. "My relatives, in the early days of our marriage, gave Mina a hard time. She told me, Mani." 

I knew what he was hinting at. I had to tell Taif. He had to know what sort of political games were being played in our home.

"Talk to someone who you feel can help you handle the situation." He ran a hand over my head.

But not everyone is like you, Papa. I really hope that Taif sticks by me the way you stood by Mama.

*

After dinner, I told Taif everything in the privacy of my old bedroom. I didn't leave anything out, including everything said from both sides.

He was pacing the room, running both hands through his hair.

"I really don't know what to do anymore, Taif. But, I'm sorry, what they did was unacceptable."

He looked at me. "I'll talk to Ammi Jaan and Baba Jaan."

"Ghazala Phupho would probably have brainwashed them into thinking that I am brainwashing you." I was so frustrated. "What is this nonsense? We are meant to be well educated doctors, so why are we living out a Saas-Bahu serial?" 

"Look, just come back with me." He grabbed my hands. "I'll sort something out." 

"I'm not coming back until she is there." I said from between gritted teeth.

"Ghazala Phupho comes here quite regularly. What are you going to do, come to your parents' house each time?"

"I don't see the problem with that." 

"Iman."

"I'm not coming back there! She is a manipulative, horrible woman! She brainwashed Aunty! She is making me look like a villain, Taif!"

"Aaram se baat karo, Iman. Koi zaroorat nahin ghar ka tamasha yahan dikhane ka." He snapped.

*"Talk calmly, Iman. No need to show our home issues here."

I pursed my lips. "I'm not coming there until Ghazala Phupho is there." 

"Iman, at least give us an opportunity to talk it out..."

"All I have been doing is letting other people talk!" I raised my arms up in frustration. "I've just been listening and tolerating! But I'm not some helpless bechari, Taif! There's a limit of my tolerance, and even that has been crossed ten insults ago."

"I asked her to leave, for your sake didn't I? What else can I do? Physically shove her out?" 

"Even then I was being told that in your family, elders aren't kicked out! What, and my family kicks out the elderly for entertainment, don't they?" 

"Iman, sometimes elders say things in anger! You can't take it to the heart!" 

"I can't talk to you anymore! You don't understand me." I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down. "I get it. Elders get angry, like all humans do. My Mama snapped at me regularly for sleeping in half the day. My Papa told me off for staying out past curfew. That is the kind of 'telling off' that is acceptable. Not where your entire khandaan is being dissed."

"Did you tell your parents why you're here?" He suddenly asked.

"No! I just told them that I'm here to see Mama, but how is that relevant to the conversation we are having?" I laughed sarcastically. "Or did Ghazala Phupho say that I come home and complain to my parents?"

Taif didn't meet my gaze.

"She did say that, didn't she?" I placed my hands over my face. "Oh, Allah!"

He put his hands on my upper arms. "You know what? The choice is yours, Iman. I won't force you. You want to stay here? Okay. I'll go and handle things at home."

"My head is hurting, Taif. This is way too much for me."

He wrapped his arms around me, holding me tightly pressed against him. "For me too. And, honestly, I have no idea how to deal with it. I feel like I should talk to Baba Jaan. Hopefully he hasn't been manipulated by her."

"What is her problem? She's not even your real Phupho!" 

"That's it, she's not. My real Phupho would never have done this." He said. "She adored me."

"Where is she?" 

"She passed away when I was ten." He pulled back, whispering softly.

"I'm sorry to hear that."

How did we go from fighting to having an emotional conversation?

"Taif, do I have the right to tell them to stop doing something that makes me uncomfortable? Like going into my bedroom behind my back and looking at my jewellery?" 

"Of course, you do, Iman. I would never be offended if you say something to defend yourself, as long as you're not rude to them. I know that it's annoying, but they are our adults, and we have to give them respect without letting them walk all over us."

"I feel like I have made a huge mistake, and I have created further problems for myself."

"No, Iman. Tolerate injustice is wrong, and that's one of the things that I love about you: you don't take crap from anyone."

"But things are delicate now." I sat down on my bed, cross-legged. "Dealing with in-laws matters is a very fragile thing..." My room had been my safe haven. It was huge, with a queen-sized bed against one wall. A wall decoration, the words 'Iman' in silver cursive letters, was hung above the bed, sent over from Pakistan by my Mamus. They had a similar one for Hania Appi, which was in her room. Opposite my bed on the wall was a large plasma TV, which I'd only gotten recently in order to enjoy Netflix on my days off. The wall directly opposite the door had French windows running from one end of the wall to the other. In front of the window was my desk with a table lamp, with perfect light for studying. Right beside the door to the left was a book shelf. Beside the wall by the TV, there was a door which led to a walk-in wardrobe and the en-suite bathroom. How comfortable was my life while living here? A petty part of me whispered in my head.

But Taif sat down beside me,  and my gaze on him reminded me that I was doing this for him. He always supported me,  and was so kind and caring, that I felt like I had to be patient in return. It didn't mean that I had to tolerate injustice, but he was the main reason I had held back my tongue all these days. "Okay, so first step, I'm going to go home and talk to them in Baba Jaan's presence. I'll update you regarding the situation."

"I feel like you're talking about a meeting that could possibly either prevent or start a world war." I grabbed his wrist, and began to rub a thumb over it.

"Well said." He looked at me. "Wish me luck."

"I'm not going to wish you luck. I'm going to say that may Allah give you success. Ameen." I edged closer to him, sitting on my knees.

"How are you so patient, so strong?" He looked at me, as if in awe.

"I do it for our love." I said, dramatically.

*Ha ha, I couldn't help it.

"Wow. Unexpected reply from you." 

"Expect the unexpected from Iman Fawad." I nibbled at his earlobe. "Go and prove to be her husband, Taif Bukhari."

"God, surgery will be a piece of cake after this drama." He muttered, closing his eyes. I wrapped my arm around his shoulder, nuzzling my nose against his neck, breathing in the scent of soap.

"Feeling relaxed?" I moved behind him and began to massage his shoulders.

"Yes, but you don't need to. You had work today as well."

"I had a long, deep nap. Don't worry." 

"I hate myself for this, Iman, but I really have to go before the adults are all asleep."

"Deal with it in the morning." I kissed his neck. "Don't stress yourself out tonight. In fact, stay over here tonight." 

"Yeah, your mother did enough pampering. I don't want to burden her even more by staying here."

"Come on, stay." I said. After a small pause, I added, "We'll both go tomorrow and talk to them."

"Really?" He asked, wide-eyed.

"No matter how much drama, we are family. They are my parents-in-law. And I've been taught to fight for family." 

With a grin, he turned, making me fall back onto the bed with a shriek. Chuckling, he began to kiss my neck, jaw, cheeks, before finally ending on my lips. "For our love." He repeated.

I smiled as we parted, putting my hands on his cheeks. "Taif, we're both very smart, Ma Sha Allah. We need to start thinking practically, not emotionally. We'll come up with a solution."

"In Sha Allah." He leaned down and started kissing me again, making me laugh as his stubble tickled me.

*

I raced downstairs ten minutes later, my hair curtaining my face and my cheeks flushed. "Mama!" I went into the living room, where my parents were watching TV together, with Mama resting her head against his chest.

She straightened up as I came in. "What's wrong, Iman?" She looked alarmed.

"Nothing!" I panted. "Taif is staying the night."

Her eyes widened, and she was about to get up, when Papa, wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her back against himself. "Jaan, bethi raho."

*"Jaan, stay seated."

"Fawad, our son-in-law is staying the night..." She looked up at him.

"He's not a guest, he's family." He told her, before looking up at him. "If he needs anything, ask him not to hesitate and let us know, okay?" 

"Should he have asked your permission?" I asked, uncertainly.

"Wow, Mina. Iman finally concerned about our permission!" Papa teasingly smiled, glancing at Mama.

"I can believe I've seen this day in my lifetime." She grinned, joining in. "But, Iman, don't be silly. Taif and Hamza are always welcome here, anytime." She then feigned a frown and poked Papa in the stomach. "But you, doctor, go and see if he needs anything. Yes, he's a family, but I will be restless until one of us goes to tell him that he needs to make himself at home."

He stood up, sighing. "Pehle biwi ka, phir betiyon ka, aur ab damaadon ka... Hamara kaun karega?" 

*"First for my wife, then for my daughters, and now for my sons-in-law...who will be concerned about me?"

"And you have hereby received your PhD in drama, awarded by the expert herself." I giggled.

As Papa passed me by, he wrapped an arm around my shoulders and kissed the side of my head. "Always keep laughing like that, meri choti patakhi. Ameen." He headed upstairs.

"Come here." Mama held out her hand, and I walked over to sit beside her. Now, she kissed the side of my head. "I love seeing you happy, which is an obvious statement."

"Thank you."

"Meri jaan." She held me tightly.

"I mean it, Mama. Thank you and Papa for teaching me that love and family matters more than the materialistic things, and sometimes we have to fight for family no matter how difficult the situations."

"You need to trust and support each other, constantly, Iman. When you have each other's support, you can get through everything. Trust me." 

"Sometimes I wonder how I'll manage as well as you have. Yes, I can be successful in my career, but how will I manage my home?" 

"That's what I'm saying. Strong partnership. Both of you are career people, both of you need to be considerate of each other, and I'm sure you'll find your own way to handle things. I have seen a beautiful, positive change in you throughout the years, Ma Sha Allah, and I have full faith in my Iman." She smiled, making the same joke I'd repeatedly made over the years. She glanced out towards the hallway. "Ya Allah, did I make a mistake by sending Fawad? He better not be giving my son-in-law a hard time!"

I laughed. "Ehh... it's necessary."

"Iman..."

"What? Appi and I will always be Team Papa before anything else."

She got up. "Let me go and make sure..."

"Mama, that's your husband. Trust him." I grabbed her hand and pulled her back down. "He'll just be the right amount of intimidating."

Mama looked anxious, making me laugh. The damaad protocol was really strong when it came to her. 

*

Taif

I was in Uncle's study, looking at the volumes of medical books in the shelf in awe.

"Taif?" 

I practically jumped, and whirled around hearing my father-in-law's voice. "I... I was just looking at the books."

He walked in, crossing his arms over his chest as he stood at the other side of his desk. "How is your exam preparation going?" 

I looked down at the ground, sheepishly. "I haven't really started it yet, sir."

"Taif, that's not good." Disapproval was heavy in his voice. "If you want, I can give you some tips."

"You?" 

"Why do you look so shocked? I've been there, done that." 

"Sure, that would be great." My gaze dropped down to the table, and I saw two photo frames. One had a photo of Uncle and Aunty, back when they were younger. And the other had a photo of Uncle, with his arms around Hani Appi and Iman. Both of them were very young and grinning, their arms around Uncle's neck. "Iman really looks up to you, both of you. You're both ideals for her in every single way. Ma Sha Allah. I hope that one day she can feel as safe and secure with me, as she feels here." The last sentence slipped out of my mouth, again reminding me that I was in severe need of a filter.

He sat down on the chair on the other side. "Don't be so hard with yourself, Taif. With marriage, both a husband and wife need time to get used to each other, to adjust. It doesn't automatically happen, no matter how long you've known each other, because Nikah changes everything." He paused. "And it's natural that the safety you feel at your parents' house, you can't feel anywhere else. And you don't even realise it when you're all grown up and married. But with time, you both will find the security in each other, you'll see."

"She deserves the world." I said, almost regretfully.

"As her father, I agree. But Taif, that doesn't necessarily mean wealth and luxury. You treat her in a way that makes her feel like she has everything in the world, and that's enough."

"I want her to be happy, but I feel like...I feel like I'll slip up anytime."

"Don't aim for perfection, but do the best you can. We all slip, but up in those circumstances, learn from those mistakes. But remember, there's a difference between 'slip ups' and unforgiveable mistakes. Never let yourselves cross that line, and I will advise Iman the same."

Aunty and Iman came inside then, with my wife looking amused.

"Are you okay, Taif?" Aunty asked, standing behind Uncle and placing her hand on his shoulder.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He stood up, towering over her.

"You were gone for too long." She smiled up at him. "I got worried about my son-in-law." She looked at me. "Taif, beta, let us know if you need anything, okay? But also, please make yourself at home."

"I will, Aunty. Thank you."

"And make sure Iman always keeps smiling like that." Uncle nodded in the direction of his younger daughter, who was beaming, her cheeks pink and her eyes sparkling.

"Fawad..." Aunty placed a hand on his chest. "Come on, I'll make you coffee." She grabbed his arm and led him out.

"I will do my best, I promise." I called out after them.

They stopped in the doorway, both of them smiling at me.

I looked at Iman, and I was more determined than ever to stop that unfair attacks on her at my home. From this day on, I will not allow anyone to attack my wife in our home, or anywhere. She may be strong enough to defend herself, but I am her partner, and partners fight for each other.

*

Will they finally get rid of the Fasadan Phupho?

Will Taif remain supportive of Iman?

Thoughts and comments? 

Thank you for reading and don't forget to vote!