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*

Iman

I was here, in Lahore, to work in a team to help spread cardiac awareness in communities in Pakistan. While I had a passion for the project itself, the fact that I'd get triple my salary was another major reason for me to go ahead with this. Financially, we were not doing very well.

"Dr Iman Fawad Ali." Arhaan Mamu greeted me with a proud smile as he met me in the car porch of the Sheikh family home.

"Assalam Alaikum, Mamu!" I walked over to me, and he gave me a one-armed hug.

"Walaikum Assalam!" He said. "I'm so happy that you're here, Mani." 

I then hugged his wife, Nazia Mumani. "How are you all?"

"Alhumdulillah, all well." She gave me her usual kind smile.

"Imannnn!" 

I glanced past my elder Mamu and his wife and saw their youngest child, Amara, running towards me. "Hey, Amy."

She threw her arms around me. "I'm so glad to see you, yaar. Ismael Bhai is up north with his family, Ibbi Bhai is still in London, and Noor and Billu are busy with the business, and Armaan is annoying anyway. I'll finally have company!"

"I wish I had enough time to catch up with you guys, but the work schedule is pretty tight, I'm afraid." I hugged her back.

"Oh, come on, Mani." Amara looked disappointed.

"How's Taif?" Arhaan Mamu asked as Ahad Mamu brought my luggage inside.

"He's good, Alhumdulillah." I replied.

"Iman, would you like to have something to eat, or do you want to rest first?" Nazia Mumani asked.

"I'd rather rest first, Mumani. I'm tired."

"Of course, sweetheart." 

"Ahad, we have prepared Jasmina's room for her. Take her luggage there." Zoya Mumani told Ahad Mamu.

"I'll help." I grabbed my smaller bag.

"Leave it, Mani." Arhaan Mamu took it from me. "We'll take it." 

I smiled, a warm feeling engulfing me as I watched the uncles take my luggage. It wasn't about who did what for me; it was about how I was being pampered already. It felt good, much needed.

*

Mama's room was still taken care of, as if she was still a regular visitor here. It was obvious how much my Mamus and their families cared about her enough to take care of her room, even though she hadn't lived here in decades. 

I loved coming in here. I loved finding things from when she was unmarried Jasmina Sheikh. In many ways, her things from her pre-marital life reminded me of Hania Appi. The soft, pastel colours of clothing, the jhumka earrings, the books and notepads; if I hadn't known any better, I would have questioned whether these items belonged to my Mama or my sister.

I had just showered, and changed into casual grey trousers an a white long-sleeved shirt,  when there was a knock on the door. "Come in."

"I'd need you to open the door, Mani." Nazia Mumani's voice came from the other side.

I immediately walked over and opened it. "Mumani..."

She was carrying a tray which contained a plate of club sandwiches, and a can of Mirinda orange, my favourite. There was also a slice of brownie on a separate plate. She walked in and set the tray on the coffee table by the sofa. "Zoya made the brownies. Her desserts, as you remember, are exceptional." 

"You didn't have to do all this, Mumani."

She smiled nostalgically. "You know, your Nano, Allah bakshe, used to prepare entire feasts when your mother used to visit, especially when Fawad Bhai came along." She laughed lightly. "She used to so happily say, "Meri beti aarahi hai, uske matlab ki har cheez hoi chahiye."

*"My daughter is coming, everything must be according to her likes."

I suddenly deeply missed the presence of my maternal grandparents. Losing them had been probably one of the hardest experiences of Mama's life. From what I remember, they'd been wonderful grandparents, wonderful people.

"I'm just following in my mother-in-law's footsteps." Nazia Mumani continued. "Plus, Arhaan gave me a strict duty to take full care of his little Mani." 

"You guys are too sweet." I smiled, shaking my head.

"He says, Jazzy to maaf karde gi, laikin Fawad nahin bakshe ga agar Mani ko zara si bhi takleef hui yahan." She laughed.

*"Jazzy might forgive, but Fawad won't forgive if Mani faces even a little problem here."

I also laughed. "Mamu makes me laugh. He has known Papa the longest, more than any of us. He knows it's nothing like that."

"Eat, then get some rest." Mumani ran a hand over my head. "Let me know if you need anything."

"Thank you, Mumani." 

*

I slept so peacefully, as if I had no care in the world. The coolness of the airconditioned room, and the warmth of the duvet provided the perfect balance to create the atmosphere that gives me the best kind of sleep.

Decades ago, my mother used to be here, dreaming of a future unknown. 

Now I was here, finding a few moments of shelter from my normal life.

This room had been a safe haven for her, and now it was also a safe haven for me.

Yeah, but she also found a safe haven in her husband's house. My eyes flew open as that thought invaded my mind.

I sat up in the dark room, pushing loose strands of my hair off my face. Why am I having such thoughts? Taif has given me love, respect. He cares for me and tries to make my life as easy as possible.

And yet here, I was feeling more at peace than I had in a while.

I picked my phone up and looked at the time. 19:55. Yawning, I turned on the bedside lamp and got up. 

An idea occurred to me, and a smile appeared on my face.

I opened the wardrobe and changed into a blue Anarkali dress with chudidar that used to belong to Mama, but had been worn by Hani Appi repeatedly over the years. Changing into it, I brushed my hair, and put on a silver nose stud, along with silver chandelier earrings from my own collections. 

Taking a selfie, I sent it to Taif with the caption '#Punjabikudi'.

He replied almost immediately.

<Taif: 😍😘 Ma Sha Allah! You gone there to prevent heart attacks, or cause the hearts to stop?>

I rolled my eyes at his cheesiness, but the smile on my face widened. He made me feel good about myself, no doubt, and a man who took care of your self-esteem was worth all the hardships, all the troubles in the world.

I can't doubt my future with him. I love Taif, and he loves me, and we will handle our problems together, like a team. In Sha Allah.

*

"Assalam Alaikum." I greeted Zafar Uncle with a warm smile, speaking in a quiet voice, as he opened the door.

"Walaikum Assalam!" He looked surprised. "This is a pleasant surprise!" 

"Where's Phupho?" I asked, too excited to be patient.

"Phupho se milne ki bechaini thi ise." Ahad Mamu grinned as he looked at his childhood best friend. 

*"She was eager to meet her Phupho!"

"She's in the kitchen, beta..." Zafar Uncle had barely finished his sentence before I rushed off.

Fariha Phupho, my father's younger sister, stood by the stove, stirring something in the pot. I sneaked up to her and hugged her from behind.

"Ya Allah!" She gasped, startled. She turned her face and her eyes widened as she saw me. "Mani!"

"Assalam Alaikum!" I grinned.

"Walaikum Assalam, meri bachi!" She turned, her eyes filling up. "My sweet Mani, what a beautiful surprise! We didn't expect you for a few more days!" 

"I told everyone not to tell you. I wanted to surprise you." I said. "How are you, Fariha Phupho?"

A tear rolled down her cheek. Wordlessly, she hugged me tightly.

When she didn't speak for a few seconds, I broke the silence. "Has my awesome presence rendered you into an awed state of speechlessness?" I giggled.

"When you don't see anyone from your maika for ages, in person, you get speechless with emotions when you see them, my Mani." She whispered out the words.

I thought about how hard it had been for me to stay away from my family when I didn't want them to worry about me.

"My doctor bachi, Ma Sha Allah." She smiled fondly as her gaze roamed my face. "I'm so, so proud of you, Ma Sha Allah. I shouldn't be surprised though. It's in your blood, after all."

"Oh, look who's here!" A voice came from the kitchen entrance.

I turned and saw my cousin, Zaid Zafar, leaning in the doorway. "What's up, Zaid?"

"Not much. What's up with you, troublemaker?" 

"My troublemaking days in the past." I shrugged.

"Why do I have trouble believing that? You and Ibbi can never change." He chuckled.

My heart panged slightly as I heard Ibrahim's name. That was a path that had always been closed off for me, and I shouldn't even go towards it again. It was all in the past, my naivety. The path Allah chooses for us is always the best path, no doubt.

"Don't trouble her, Zaid!" Phupho lightly scolded him. "Are Omar and Zunaira back?"

"Not yet, but they did say that they'd be out late." 

"Okay, well, Mani, you will stay with us for dinner, right?" Phupho turned to me with a hopeful look in her eyes.

"I can't tonight, Phupho. But I will come again, In Sha Allah. I only came tonight to see you, but I have to be up early in the morning to go to work."

"Oh, that's such a shame." She said. "But I don't want to keep on pestering you about it. You better come yourself, am I clear?" 

"I will, Phupho, I promise." I hugged her again. "I need to catch up with you."

*

The next morning, Bilal, Ahad Mamu's son, dropped me off at the bus station. From here, I was going to be travelling with a medical team to a small village nearby.

I met Dr Shahista, the doctor in charge, and she greeted me warmly.

"Dr Ali Mansoor was a well known name in neurosurgery." She told me after I'd told her about my family background. "And Dr Fawad Ali had made a great name for himself in cardiothoracic surgery. Pakistani news channel discuss his contribution as a Pakistani on an international level, in his field."

Ma Sha Allah. I took a seat beside her on the bus. "Yeah, they both have been my great inspirations."

"Big shoes to step into, huh?" She smiled knowingly, as if she could completely understand my position.

"Ma Sha Allah, yes." 

When we arrived at the village, we ended up at the government school. The rundown walls, the terrible state in general, was very disturbing. I felt overprivileged and ungrateful being here. I was blessed, Alhumdulillah, and yet I always found reasons to complain about something or the other.

We entered a classroom, and the team started to set up colourful posters, made to interest kids, on the heart and cardiac health. As I looked around the room though, I noticed that the kids were barely ten.

"They are not going to care about biology." I said. 

"They have to learn. We have to teach. That's what we're getting paid to do, Dr Iman." Dr Shahista said almost dismissively. 

I looked at her in disbelief as she took out papers filled with written information... for kids. Is she serious?

Fortunately, I'm a Khalla of young kids, and I knew that I'd be teaching kids, so I came prepare. I walked to the front of the room and clapped my hands to get the attention of the kids. "Mera naam Dr Iman Fawad hai. Chalo, ek game khailte hain."

*"I'm Dr Iman Fawad. Come on, let's play a game."

The kids look interested now. 

"Game ka naam hai: dhak dhak dhoondo." I said. "Main teen tak ginon gi, aur jab teen hoga, aap wahan haath rakhna jaahan se aapko dhak dhak mehsoos hota hai. Jeetay ga woh, jo sabse pehle sahi jaga pe haath rakhe ga."

*"The game is called: Find the 'dhak dhak' (heart beat)."
"I'll count to three, and when it's three, you will place your hand where you can feel your heartbeat. The winner will be the one who places their hand on the correct place first."

The kids looked prepared, reaching towards their wrists or neck.

"Ek. Do. Teen." I counted.

At 'teen' (three), the way the kids scrambled to place their hands on the correct position was adorable.

"Now, who can tell me what the 'dhak dhak'?" I asked, continuing to speak in broken Urdu. I still struggled to fluently speak in it, but I still tried.

"Mujhe nahin mil rahi meri." A girl looked worried. "Meri dhak dhak nahin hai?"

*"I can't find mine."
"Don't I have a heartbeat?" 

I smiled and walked over to her, helping her located her 'dhak dhak' on her wrist.

"Heart!" A boy shouted out. "It's the heart!" 

"Very good! Yes, it's your heart." I nodded. "And the heart is very, very important for us." 

I thought interactive activities would be more fun for the kids than reading material. And as the kids got involved in discussing the heart with me, they were having fun.

I then took out the papers from my bag, with blank drawing of the human body. I gave them each a paper, and then took out containers of blue and red Play-Doh. "Gather around. We're all going to use Play-Doh to design the cardiovascular system, okay? Follow what I'm doing." 

The kids watched me in awe, as I used play dough to depict the blood vessels inside the blank body outline. I used a small ball of red to depict the heart. As I did this, I was explaining the cardiovascular system in a fun, simple way, and the kids (surprisingly) seemed to be listening attentively.

"Can I try?" A boy asked, shyly.

"Of course! I brought the extra paper for you all." I smiled. "You all get to try, but it has to be like the one I did, okay?" 

Dr Shahista was observing in stunned silence, but she was smiling.

"Now, we all need to know, that the heart need to remain healthy. We need to take good care of it." I started to explain the importance of a healthy heart, but in a way that wasn't boring to the kids.

I couldn't help thinking of when I'd started to learn about the heart. Funnily enough, I'd learnt it earlier than I was supposed to in school, thanks to Hani Appi.

*

FLASHBACK

"Hania." Papa's voice was filled with disapproval. "I'm trying to explain. Can you please pay attention?" 

Hani Appi yawned. "It's beyond my understanding, Papa. I give up. I'm confused."

I, the person who usually avoided homework, was actually paying attention. It was very interesting to me. "What's so confusing about it? It's simple."

"Not for me." 

"Hania, if you want your Science grades to improve, you need to put in more effort. Come on, give me a general summary of the cardiovascular system." Papa sat back, crossing his arms over his chest.

Hani Appi studied her textbook, biting her lower lip.

"Can I explain?" I raised my hand as if I was in a classroom.

"Iman, this isn't your homework." Papa said.

"Please, Papa, please. Let me explain! I think I got it." I said, excitedly.

Mama looked amused as she came into the room with a tray that contained her and Papa's coffee mugs, as well as mugs of hot chocolate for me and Hani Appi.

Papa, seeing that Hani Appi clearly didn't want to summaries, sighed. "Fine, Mani. Tell me."

I proudly explained what I'd learned about the cardiovascular system, and when my parents weren't looking, I stuck my tongue out at Hani Appi, who narrowed her eyes at me.

*

It was the dreaded results day. 

While my Science marks were exceptional, and Maths pretty good, my English marks were 'disappointing' in parental terms, not to mention my behaviour overall.

With Hani Appi, she had perfect conduct, and her English marks were exceptional, Maths decent, but Science...

Hani Appi hid behind Mama, sobbing quietly.

"You failed the Biology paper, Hania. In fact, all the Sciences: Biology, Chemistry and Physics." Papa, as always, didn't shout. According to him, raising his voice at females was unacceptable no matter what. It was certainly against the teachings of Islam. 

"It's hard, Papa." Hani Appi was crying endlessly. "It goes over my head."

I smirked. For once, it was good to see perfect Hani Appi in trouble.

Unfortunately, it was the moment Papa glanced my way. "And you, Miss, don't you laugh. What happened in English?" 

I froze, widening my eyes innocently. "How am I supposed to understand what Shakespeare wrote in that outdated English? And at least, unlike Appi, I didn't fail."

"Iman!" Appi glared at me, even through tears. "Mama, tell her to stop."

"The school has recommended booster classes on Saturdays. Hania, you will be attending them." Papa said. "I'm not having a daughter of mine failing any of the sciences. Iman, you'll do the same for English." 

"Papa, don't I suffer enough during school that you won't me to ruin my Saturdays too?" I groaned, but shut up when he glared at me.

"You know, my Papa- your Nana Jaan- used to find fun ways to make me take interest in science, Hani. Interactive ways. It also helped me better understand. I was just like you in that subject." Mama told Hani Appi. 

"Hani, Mani, I need better results next time, and I'm not going to repeat myself." Papa spoke firmly. "Find ways to make the subjects interesting, as your mother said, but I need to see improvements, okay?" 

A while later,  I barged into Hani Appi's room. "I have a deal for you, Appi. This deal will help us both."

"What is it, Iman?" She looked at me wearily. She was well aware of my 'deals'. They tended to take a troubling turn often.

"I'm struggling in English, and you're great at it. You're struggling with Sciences, and I'm a genius in it. Let's help each other out, shall we?" 

She looked thoughtful.

"Normally, Iman Fawad doesn't help anyone for free, but this isn't free. I'm getting help in return too." 

"Forget medicine, you should become a businesswoman, Mani." She smiled weakly.

"I'll excel at whatever I do." I smirked, placing a hand on my hip.

*

PRESENT

"You are brilliant with kids, Dr Iman. I'm impressed." Dr Shahista smiled.

"I have two nephews and a niece. You learn a thing or two with them." I shrugged modestly. "It's important to make learning fun, I feel."

"Absolutely, otherwise children are quick to lose interest."

"Tomorrow, we will be going to another community, but you will be dealing with others there." She said as we walked towards the bus. "We are distributing blood pressure machines to places like care homes, and we will be showing the more vulnerable how to use them, and to identify what's high blood pressure, and what's low pressure, including the symptoms. This kind of education is much needed, especially for the vulnerable who live alone."

"That sounds like a good idea."

I was close to dozing off during the bus ride back to Lahore. Technically, I was still jet lagged. My eyes closed, I leaned my head on the headrest, when suddenly, the conductor's voice made me jump.

"Chalo, chalo! Utro sab! Yeh bus ab aur aagay nahi jaayegi!" He yelled.

*"Let's go, let's go. Everyone get off! This bus won't go any further!"

"Kyun nahin?" Someone asked.

*"Why not?" 

"Traffic ka bura haal hai aagay. Raaste band hai, kisi hukmaran ke jalse ke liye." The conductor replied.

*"The traffic is horrendous. The roads are closed due to a politician's rally."

"Tum log bhi riksha lo aur seedha ghar jaane ki karo, warna shehar ke halaat kharab bhi ho sakte hain." The driver added.

*"You all should take the rickshaw and go straight home, otherwise the situation in the city could deteriorate." 

"Ya Allah khair!" Dr Shahista turned to call out to her team. "Let's go. Let's go. Quickly!"

As I stood up to follow her, I was shoved back by the crowd attempting to rush off the bus. It was like everyone was in a rush to get a rickshaw. 

By the time I got off the bus, I saw her getting into a rickshaw with a couple other doctors. "Dr Shahista!" I called out, but my voice was drowned out by the traffic behind me.

"Iman, where do you need to go?" One kind doctor from our team asked me.

"Umm... I..." I started to panic. "DHA, I guess."

"Allah! That's on the other side of the city, yaar." The girl's eyes widened. "You're better off finding a taxi." The girl waved down a rickshaw and briefly spoke to the driver before getting in.

Alright, Iman. Relax. You're an adult. Don't panic. I glanced around helplessly. I had no idea how to safely get around the city, without any relative or someone being with me. But I knew that in life if you didn't learn to rely on yourself, you can't get anywhere. You needed to know how to take care of yourself when there was nobody around to support you.

Around five minutes later, I waved down a rickshaw, but when I told him that I needed to go to DHA, he refused blatantly and rode off. It was too far, apparently. I didn't have a local SIM card yet, or a mobile network. I had given my Mumanis a rough time of when my bus would reach the bus station, and they were going to be there at that time, so I'd taken a big risk by coming without any way to connect to them. Unless I directly call them from my UK SIM...

"Kahan jaana hai, beta?" The driver of our bus had been drinking chai at a local dhaba, and must have seen me looking around anxiously.

*"Where do you need to go, dear?"

"DHA." I replied.

"Seedha aur aasan jo rasta hai, woh band hai." He said. "Lamba rasta logi to raat padh jayegi, laikin hai ek rasta. Paas se ek wagon main betho, woh tumhain DHA ke kareeb kareeb pohanchadegi."

*"The direct and easy route is closed."
"If you take the longer route, it'd be dark [when you reach there], but there is a way. Take a wagon (public van), it will take you close to DHA."

"Woh kahan se main le sakti hoon?" I asked.

*"Where can I take it [the van] from?"

He pointed down the road. "Uthay, jithe o cyclan khalotiyan ne."

*"There, where all those motorcycles are."

Alright, Iman, let's do this. No big deal. I thanked the driver, before rushing down the road, trying not to slow down despite my tiredness. I'll take it as an adventure.

I'm not going to lie; I was petrified. Technically, this was a foreign country to me in the sense that I'd never lived here, and that I'd only been out and about here with an adult... or cousins who knew better. 

Despite me being on high alert, nothing drastic happened, and I managed to find a van with ladies that was going in the general vicinity of an area that was close to DHA. However, like the driver of the bus had said, it was going to be a much longer route. I tried calling Ahad Mamu, but I kept receiving the error messages from my mobile network.

Ahad Mamu is probably going to get Zafar Uncle and his team to search for me. Ya Allah! Everyone must be so worried.

Not only was this a longer route, but traffic was horrendous in the general vicinity of the city. I recited Ayat-ul-Kursi, and kept reminding myself that I was an adult, and that I could deal with any difficult situation.

The van terminated in an area which I didn't recognise, part of the more modern side of Lahore.

"Bhai sahab, DHA kinni dour ay aethon?" This time I brought out my broken Punjabi as I spoke to the driver.

*"Brother,  how far is DHA from here?" 

He spoke something rapidly in Punjabi.

"Hauli bolo tussi. Kinni dour?" I struggled to understand.

*"Please speak slowly. How far?"

"Koi vi mint dour ay. Traffic te depend karda ay." He replied.

*"It's around twenty minutes away. It depends on the traffic."

Okay, I need to give a rickshaw driver whatever fare he demands, but I have to just get home. I waved down a rickshaw. 

"Kidhar jaana hai, Baji?" He asked.

*"Where do you want to go, sister?" 

Baji? Really? "DHA." I replied.

He looked at me like I'd offered him drugged cookies. "Any particular area in DHA? Or do you want to go on a rickshaw ride around DHA?"

Wow, the attitude! Was I also this sarcastic before? "Wait." Sighing, I rummaged through my bag and pulled out my small diary, using my phone light to search for it, before I found the address. I read it out to him.

He gave me a price that was probably a massive rip off, but I didn't care at that point. I just wanted to get home and sleep till the morning.

*

"Sh*t!" The word came out of my mouth as I stared outside. "This is not where I asked you to come!" 

"Baji, this is exactly where you asked me to take you." 

This wasn't the Sheikh family home.

This was the Ali family home.

I wanted to give him the correct address now, but something made me get out of the rickshaw. I gave him the amount he had asked for, before heading up to the gate and knocking on it. I knew guards and staff were still here to care for the house, and even Omar Bhai and Zaid visited here regularly to keep an eye on the property, but it was kind of tragic to see the house so dark and lifeless.

"Ji?" A guard opened the door.

*"Yes?"

"Assalam Alaikum. Main Iman Fawad hoon, Dr Fawad ki beti. Dr Ali aur Dr Fatima ki pouti." I told him.

*"I'm Iman Fawad, daughter of Dr Fawad. The granddaughter of Dr Ali and Dr Fatima."

"Walaikum Assalam. Agar aapko aitraaz na ho, to main Fariha Baji se phone pe pooch leta hoon..." He seemed uncertain.

*"If you don't mind, I'll call Fariha Baji to confirm over the phone."

"Jaisi aapki marzi." I shrugged.

*"Whatever you want."

The guard spoke to Fariha Phupho on the phone, before handing the phone over to me.

"Iman, jaani, kahaan ho aap? Sab itna pareshan hain..." Phupho sounded frantic.

*"Iman, my love, where are you? Everyone is so worried."

"Phupho, tell everyone that I'm here. I got delayed due to traffic and road closures, but I'm here now... and I want to stay here for a while." I felt emotional as I looked up at the house.

"I can understand, Iman." She spoke quietly now. "I still feel my heart shatter when I visit... Take your time, beta. There's Wi-Fi still at the house, so please do call your Mamus or Mumanis first thing."

"I will, Phupho." 

After the call ended, I headed towards the house. While the Sheikh family home was still lively and bustling, Ma Sha Allah, my dadiyal was the opposite. It broke my heart in a way that couldn't be healed again, because you never healed losing a loved one, even if time makes it easier. This house was a reminder of Dada Jaan and Dado, of memories past. 

*

FLASHBACK

"Woh aagyi meri pyari shehzadiyan, Ma Sha Allah!" Dado smiled as she saw me and Hani Appi come down the stairs, all dressed up in our frocks. 

*"Here they come, my princesses, Ma Sha Allah!"

Yes, I wore frocks then. I was seven, and Appi was nine.

"Dado sadqay." Dado, as always, hugged Hani Appi first, peppering her face with kisses.

I stood there awkwardly, until Dada Jaan gestured for me to come over. When I did, he loving ruffled my hair. He crouched down and pulled out small chocolate bar out of his pocket. "For my little Mani." He whispered, smiling.

"Thank you, Dada Jaan!" I hugged him, grinning.

"Fawad, samjhado achi tarhaan Iman ko. Aaj kuch gadhbad na kare." Dado looked at my father as he and Mama came down the stairs.

*"Fawad, explain everything clearly to Iman. She shouldn't mess up today."

"Kya hogaya, Fatima? Bachi hai. Shararat karti hai to us main aisa kya hogaya?" Dada Jaan, as always defended me.

*"What happened, Fatima? She's a kid. If she behaves cheekily, what's the big deal?"

"She won't do anything, Ammi. Don't worry." Papa smiled. "We're all going to be there."

I felt angry. Nobody ever gave Hani Appi such warnings. Only me. Nobody trusted me. I crossed my arms over my chest. "I'm not going." I walked over to sit on the stairs. "You take the good girl Hani Appi."

"Kya hogaya hai tum sab ko? Bechari bachi ke peechay padhgaye ho." Dada Jaan shook his head. 

*"What's wrong with you all? You're after the poor girl."

"Come with me, my sweet Mani. Nobody will say anything to you." Dada Jaan gave me a reassuring smile.

"Allah ka vaasta hai aapko, Ali. Maa Baap kuch kehte hain usay to kehne dena. Daant main bhi Iman ki hi bhalayi hai." Dado muttered..

*"For Allah's sake, Ali. If her parents tell her off, let them. Even the scolding is beneficial for Iman."

"Maine keh diya na. Mere hotay howay meri Mani ko koi kuch nahin kahega." Dada Jaan took my hand. 

*"I've told you; nobody says anything to Mani as long as I'm around."

*

PRESENT

A tear ran down my cheek as I stood in the empty, dark foyer.

Nobody was coming here to greet me and pull me in a warm hug now. Dado wasn't going to come and scold me over something now. Dada Jaan wasn't around to pamper me.

"Tum aur Hania meri zindagi ho, meri jaan ho. Yeh ghar, yeh sab tum donon ka hai, meri chanda. Maine tumhain kabhi mehsoos nahin karwaya, Iman, laikin bohat pyar karti hoon hai tumse, aur humesha se kiya hai. Kaise na karti? Mere Fawad ki beti ho, bilkul apne baap ki tarhan ho." Dado had told me a year or two before her death.

*"You and Hania are my life. This house, all of this, belongs to you too, my sweetheart. I never made you feel that way, Iman, but I love you a lot, and I've always loved you. How could I not? You're my Fawad's daughter; you're just like your father."

I trudged upstairs in the silent house, heading straight towards my parents' room.

The younger princess of the Ali family.

Papa's Girl.

Mama's pampered, rebellious jaan.

I pushed the door opened, and it seemed that the action had burst a dam inside me. Tears flowed endlessly now and I started sobbing loudly.

I was Iman Fawad. I didn't cry in front of humans. I cried in solitude, in front of Allah.

I loved Taif with all my heart, but being here in Lahore made me remember who I used to be.

I wouldn't trade my life with Taif for anything or anyone, but I was currently yearning for a brief glimpse of my former life, and it made me want to cry at the top of my lungs.

"Papa, business class. Please! Pretty please!" I used to pout and beg him when he used to book our tickets to Pakistan.

And now, I had come here alone just so that I could get triple the salary that I usually get in a month.

I walked around the room, and picked up the photo frame from one of the shelves.

It was a photo of my parents from years ago. Mama wore a beautiful sari and was staring up at Papa, who was in a suit and had one arm wrapped around her waist as he stared back down at her. "I don't want to be ungrateful; you've raised me better than that. But... I'm exhausted. I know that my life is still much, much better than many, but it doesn't make it any easier. I can never say these words out loud to you too, but today I want to talk to you two so badly. I want to unburden my heart. I don't want to be strong, temporarily."

I sat down on the floor by the bed, allowing myself to cry. Everything that I'd experienced since I got married jumbled together, causing me to cry harder and harder until I had no more tears left to shed.

The moment I walked out of this room, out of this house, I knew that I had to be my strong self again. The face that I showed to everyone else would replace this mask of pain and helplessness.

But for now, I could be in my parents' room and cry. 

*

FLASHBACK

"Mani." Mama ran her fingers through my hair as I cried with my head in her lap.

"D-D-Dado told me o-off." I sobbed. "Dado ha-hates me."

"No, meri jaan, Dado doesn't hate you. How can she hate her own granddaughter?" She spoke softly as she reassured me.

"But she scolded me, Mama! She was so a-angry."

The door opened and Papa strode in. "And why did she tell you off, Iman? Did you tell your Mama that part?" 

I sat up and ducked behind Mama as she sat on the bed.

"What did you do, Mani?" My mother asked, wearily.

"You want to tell her, or shall I, Mani?" Papa asked.

I clutched onto my mother, closing my eyes as I rested my head against her back.

"She pushed Saad down the stairs."

"It was only two steps, Papa!" I protested. "And he told me that he was going to hit me with a cricket bat. I was protecting myself!"

"Iman..." Papa took a step forward.

"Mama, help..." I muttered.

Mama stood up, and I took her hand in both of mine, not looking up at Papa. I also stood up, ducking behind Mama once again.

"Fawad, I'll talk to her." Mama said.

"Mina, he fell on the concrete by the steps outside. He needed stitches." Papa said. 

"Ya Allah, poor boy." Mama sighed. "Iman, when are you going to stop your mischievousness?" 

"Will Zafar Uncle arrest me now?" I looked up at her, wide-eyed. "Mama, I don't want to go to jail!" I burst into tears.

Papa sat down on the bed and held out a hand. "Come here, Mani."

I looked up at Mama, biting my lower lip. Neither of our parents had ever raised their hands on us, but parents have a tendency to take away a fun activity for a set amount of time, e.g. watching TV, and that is what worried me. Still, I walked over to him, placed my hand in his, and sat down beside him.

"You won't go to jail, Mani, but you have to be careful." Papa spoke in his usual calm manner. "Your Phupho adores you so much, and you hurt her son?" 

"He tried to take the money that Dada Jaan gave me. When I said no, he said that he was going to hit me with a cricket bat, so I shoved him and ran.

"Next time just let me or Mama handle it, okay?" He said.

That night, as I drifted off to sleep between my parents in that very room that night, I heard them whisper to each other.

"...I still can't forget how he left my toddler Hani alone on the streets of old Lahore when I was pregnant with Mani." 

"He's still a kid, Mina..."

"A kid who tried to snitch my daughter's money, and then threaten to hit her with a bat?" 

He didn't reply, probably realising that she was right.

"If he hurts Mani..." 

"Mina, I'll talk to him, okay? And Fari." 

I felt blessed to have parents who were supporting me through each and every problem- as long as I was in the right of course. 

*

PRESENT

The memories.

The emotions.

The flashbacks. 

I felt it all so deeply as I lay in this room.

No, I cannot expect or count on others to bail me out from my problems

I had to get through this maturely, with Taif by my side. I couldn't allow this temporary break to lure me back towards the temptations of the comfort and luxury of my old life.

I couldn't allow the walk into Nostalgic Lane to cause any resentment or bitterness towards my life back at home.

I am Dr Iman Fawad Ali. I can face any challenges head on.

*

Mani's story was never meant to be about romance, but it was meant to show her growth as a character.

From a spoiled brat, to someone who is trying to handle multiple responsibilities. 

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