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*

Hooriya

I stared in horror at my father, who had his arms crossed over his chest as he questioned Farhaan's presence at the female-only mehndi event. "Papa, it's only family in there now. Everyone else has gone. He came after the event ended."

Papa looked at Farhaan wordlessly for a few seconds.

Why am I feeling scared? Farhaan is my husband, not boyfriend. Astaghfirullah!

"Rehan!" Mama's voice came from behind us, much to my relief. "Kyun tang kar rahe hain bachon ko?"

*"Why are you troubling the kids?"

Papa maintained his strict expressions, while I looked at Mama for help as she stopped beside him.

"Rehan." She poked a finger on his upper arm. "Stop it."

"And where do you think you are taking her?" Papa continued, his gaze remaining on Farhaan. 

I wanted the ground to swallow me up.

Farhaan looked unfazed. "I haven't really decided yet, to be honest." 

Mama was clearly fighting back a smile. 

"Maybe somewhere in Asia?" Farhaan shrugged.

I glanced up at him wide-eyed as Mama laughed.

"I have to respect you for your confidence." Papa told him, a small smile appearing on his face. "Just make sure that wherever you take her, she's happy, healthy and safe." 

Farhaan glanced down at me. "Anyone who signs a Nikah nama is basically making those vows in front of Allah. A lot of people forget that, but I most certainly won't." 

Papa nodded. "I expect you to remember that even decades from now." He gestured towards Farhaan's car. "You're cleared to go." 

Mama just shook her head at him, still smiling. "You're too much." 

"He married my daughter. He has to face some intimidation from me." My father told her.

"Not that he looked very intimidated. He knows he's her husband and you can't do anything about it." Mama laughed again. "Now let them go and come with me. There's a lot of work to be done. You have relaxed enough." 

"He deserves to relax." I spoke up in his defence. "He is giving his Hoor away. It's not an easy task." 

"Kabhi maa ko bhi hamdardi dikha diya karo, Hooriya." Mama feigned disapproval.

*"Sometimes show your mother some sympathy too, Hooriya." 

I smiled sheepishly at her.

*

Farhaan and I drove through the dark countryside and I relaxed back in the comfortable seat of the car. "Where are you taking me?" The car had generally been silent apart from the sound of my bangles as I adjusted my outfit or dupatta.

"Wait and watch." He replied, simply.

He drove up a hill and parked at the top. The countryside was dark in general, but the moon watched over it,  proudly shining it line accompanied by the scattered glittering stars that were blatantly obvious away from the city. Turning the ignition off, he opened the glass sunroof of the car so that we could see the stars directly above us. Taking his seat belt off, he leaned over me and pressed a button at the side of my seat so that my seat reclined. "The bride should relax on the eve before her wedding." 

I looked up at him, placing a hand on his cheek. "I do feel relaxed with you." 

He hovered over me, the proximity spending sparks through me, setting my skin on fire. "The bride is very beautiful, Ma Sha Allah." 

I ran a hand through my hair. "The groom isn't too bad himself, Ma Sha Allah." 

He moved back and reclined his own seat. Reaching for my hand, he held it in his strong grip as we stared up at the shimmering stars in serene silence. "So... where do you want to go on your honeymoon?" 

"It doesn't matter. I'd be happy anywhere." I whispered.

He turned his head to look at me. "I was thinking Umrah first, and then onward to another destination."

*Umrah is pilgrimage which could be performed within hours, in contrast to Hajj. Hajj is done at a particular time of the year, whereas Umrah can be done anytime.

"Ma Sha Allah, that's a beautiful idea." I smiled. After all, I had a lot to thank Allah for, most recently my marriage to Farhaan.

He turned on the overhead light and lifted my hand up, his gaze admiring the bangles, the henna and the gentle glittering gold nail polish. "I'm thinking an island so small that there isn't even an international airport. We'd have to charter a flight from the mainland to get there. A villa with our own infinite pool. The view of the sunset on the horizon." 

"Sounds gorgeous." I whispered.

He took his phone out and unlocked it, tapping a few times before turning it towards me. "I guess I did my research."

I held the phone in my hand and looked through the pages on the browser that he was showing me. The place he had selected seemed like a dream come true, and I saw one of the villas, I pointed out something in the photo of the bedroom. "Oh, look at that desk! I'm imaging myself writing on my laptop there!"

"On your honeymoon? Really?" He raised both eyebrows at me, causing me to giggle.

"And what itinerary have you planned for the honeymoon?" I handed him the phone back.

"One that wouldn't require a great amount of time outdoors."

My cheeks felt warm. "So... writing?" I grinned.

"If you have any energy left..." He grinned back.

"You are unbelievable." I pulled my hand away and relaxed back in the seat, staring up at the stars once again. 

"Tomorrow, you'll be moving in with me, In Sha Allah." His own gaze went heavenwards and he sighed with a content smile on his face.

I moved closer and placed a hand on his chest. He turned his head to look at me again. "You know, Farhaan, your courage and confidence today was very attractive." 

He chuckled. "It's only because I've known your mother all my life, and your father for over twenty years. I know that he wouldn't really say anything as long as we're not doing anything wrong."

"And if you didn't know them?"

"Then I can't guarantee this courage and confidence would be present."

I laughed.

He sat up and leaned forward, as did I. He lifted up his hand, palm facing me. I pressed my palm against his and he clasped our hands together. I thought about tomorrow as I stared into those gorgeous eyes of his. Our lives are going to change for the better tomorrow, In Sha Allah.

*

I fell back asleep after praying Fajr, smiling as I snuggled under the duvet of my familiar and comfortable bed. My last night here was officially over, and the new day promised to bring new changes in my life.

Suddenly I felt something tickle my cheek. My eyebrows furrowed together as I lingered in the state between slumber and consciousness. Again something tickled my cheek, and the next thing I knew, I was being blindfolded. I shrieked. "What's going on?"

"Shhh..." A whispered voice said, before I was grabbed up by the shoulder.

"Haya?" 

"Don't move or struggle." 

"What are you doing?" I cried out as I was grabbed by the wrists. The next thing I knew, I was being gagged by a soft cloth. Haya Rehan, I'll kill you for this! I knew my twin was involved. I'd recognised her immediately.

"Let's go." Indeed, Haya's voice was clear now.

I was dragged out of my room and stumbled down the stairs. I almost fell over, but the grips on my wrists were too tight. "Ummmm!" I tried to make a sound, but unsuccessfully. The cloth on my mouth was doing its job well.

I felt myself being taken out of the house and into the slightly cool early morning air. Leading down the familiar stone path, I was taken towards what I could recall as the direction of the driveway, before I heard a car door being opened. I was forced inside the car, and soon there were people on either side of me, and the doors closed. The car was started up and we began to move.

I surrendered and sat back in the seat, closing my eyes. 

*

"Your freedom is here." Haya's voice was followed by the removal of the blindfold. 

I blinked, squinting in the morning sunlight. We seemed to be in a poolside of a manor, close to which was pool house with French windows and door. Inside were beautiful white sofa sets and a large table on which was arranged a delicious breakfast. "What's going on?"

"Welcome to your bridal breakfast." Haya stepped forward into my vision and I saw Yamna beside her.

Their accomplices who had grabbed my wrists were none other than my best friends Anisa and Farah. 

"I am so mad at you guys, but this looks so beautiful!" I walked inside the pool house and glanced down at the breakfast items. It consisted of scrambled eggs, toast, soft rolls with butter or jam as options, pancakes with maple syrup or with chocolate syrup and strawberries, and waffles with berries, along with tea and coffee.

A special cup was set out for me, with a small card placed beside it that read 'The Bride'. It was a white china saucer, gold-rimmed, with a matching cup. A golden spoon was placed on top with a pink artificial flower. Everything around us seemed to be an Instagrammer's dream.

I myself was dressed in white pyjama trousers with silver stars, and a matching loose white t-shirt with the words 'Sparkle like a Star' written in glittering letters. 

"If you want to freshen up, there's a small bathroom with a brand new set of toothbrush and toothpaste inside." Anisa told me.

"I hate you guys, but this breakfast looks to good to refuse." I strode towards the bathroom still sulking.

When I came back, the girls placed a sash around me reading 'Bride to Be!', and Yamna placed a silver tiara on my head.

"Sorry for the scare." My Chachu's daughter told me. "We wanted to do something special for you."

"Yum-Yum, there's a difference between 'special' and 'illegal'." I pinched her cheek lightly. "But I forgive you because I know that you mean well at least."

"Hey!" My twin and friends protested in unison.

We had breakfast, and it was as delicious as it looked. We took plenty of selfies, with lots of giggling and gossiping. The girls attempted to discuss my honeymoon destinations, but I simply ignored the topic. 

*

After an hour of lounging around by the pool, we decided to go in the pool itself. The girls had made swimwear arrangements, and with us having the full place to ourselves, we had complete privacy.

Yamna sat at the edge with her legs dangled in, refusing to come even when Haya almost forced her to. The rest of us splashed around, laughing and having fun. It was a beautiful morning, a lovely beginning to one of the biggest days of my life. I never expected that I'd be starting of the morning of my wedding in this manner, but here we were. 

We dried off after our swim session, and changed back into our normal clothes.

"Are you still mad at us?" Haya asked me.

"Yes...but I'll get over it soon." I shrugged.

"Yeah, she will even forget our existences after tonight." Farah joked. "We will be irrelevant."

"Mujhe sajan ke ghar jaana hai!" Anisa sang out, and the three older girls cackled while Yamna looked at them bemused.

*"I have to go to my beloved's house!"

I shook my head at them.

I was blessed and grateful to have such loving family and friends in my life.

*

"Hoor, hurry up! We have to go to the parlour!" Mama's voice came from downstairs. 

I was in my room, detangling my hair after a shower. "I'm almost done, Mama!" I called back.

"Make sure you take all your things!" She added.

"Yes, Mama." I smiled. She had packed up all the things herself in one place so that I didn't forget, yet she was still stressing about it.

I was feeling like I was about to get ready for a closed relative's wedding, not my own. It felt unbelievable on a whole different level. I was elated, I was excited, simultaneously I was also nervous and a little scared. It was a new chapter of my life, and I wanted to be successful in it.

"Hoor!" Haya barged into my room as per her usual habit. "Why are you taking so long? Do you want to end up being late to your own wedding?" 

"As Queen Clarisse quoted, 'A queen is never late. Everyone else is simply early.'." 

"A Queen? Will that big head of yours be able to fit in your bridal dress?" She scoffed.

"It's a wedding. I'm the bride, i.e. the VIP. It makes me a queen in a way, doesn't it?" 

"You writers never run out of words." 

"I mean, it's literally our profession: dealing with words."

She rolled her eyes. "I give up. Just hurry up, Your Majesty. The rest of the world won't operate on your Royal timings." 

I glanced at myself in the mirror one more time, the beaming smile on my face causing a glow on my cheeks. I secretly admitted to myself that I looked good. And why couldn't a person admit it in the confines of their own mind? As long as their thoughts are not displayed outward as conceited or vain, I didn't see any problem with a person seeing positivity in their features. And especially today, when I was a bride, I was meant to feel good about myself right? 

"Farhaan Bhai is damn lucky, and he better not forget that." Haya spoke up. 

"I'm lucky too. Alhumdulillah, my Allah has blessed me endlessly." I whispered. 

"When you show gratefulness for your blessings, you are blessed with more." Haya reminded me of what we've been taught. "I think it applies to you. I've never heard you complain, even when Farhaan Bhai was going to marry Sophie." 

I managed a small smile and glanced at her. "Shall we go?" 

"I can't believe that you won't be coming back here." She looked almost emotional as she spoke. "You'll be going straight to the wedding venue from the parlour, and then with Farhaan Bhai from there."

"I can't believe it here." My voice broke. "We came here as newborn babies in car seats. I've always lived here." Tears filled my eyes. "I know no other home but this place."

She hugged me and we held onto each other tightly. It was difficult enough to be away from my twin when I was in Pakistan. Now I had to permanently live away from her. From my parents. From my brothers. I'd know Farhaan and his family my whole life, but it didn't change the fact that they were all my in-laws now. 

"I'm going to miss you, Haya." I whispered.

"The house will be silent without you." She replied. In Haya's words, that meant 'I'll miss you too'.

*

Farhaan

"Farhaan!" 

"I'm right here, Mama. You don't need to yell." I grinned as I came down the stairs.

My mother, Aizah, Hareem Phupho and Ifra were standing in the foyer, ready to head to the parlour.

"Get ready on time! Don't delay things, okay?" My mother warned me.

"I'm always punctual." 

"I'm just reminding you to be extra punctual today." She told me. "We're leaving. Make sure Faizan gets ready on time as well." 

"And Harris." Hareem Phupho added. "He's still playing video games with Faizan, so please ensure they both are ready in time."

"I will. You all don't need to worry." 

Suddenly, Faizan appeared behind me, looking like he was in a rush as he held his car keys and phone in his hands.

"Where are you going?" Mama asked him, bewildered.

"Apparently there are some issues with the Valima preparations for tomorrow, and the venue manager wants to have a word with me since I'm overlooking everything." My brother replied. Being the assistant manager at an event planning company, he was heavily involved in the wedding planning. Since the Valima was from our side, he seemed to be taking charge more than Papa himself, and as far as we all knew, he was doing an excellent job.

"Can't they wait till the morning?!" Mama cried out.

"They can't, Mama. That's why they called me." He explained, kissing her cheek. "But don't worry. There won't be a delay from my side."

"There better not be!" My mother warned him. "You need to be beside your brother during the baraat, not showing up later!"

Faizan just nodded in amusement and headed out.

"Bhabi, stop panicking and let's go!" Hareem Phupho calmly told Mama. "The boys are all grown up and mature. They'll come on time, In Sha Allah."

"I know these boys. That's why I'm worried." Mama muttered as the group headed towards the front door as well.

My phone vibrated and I took a look at the screen.

<Hoor: Heading to the parlour now. Just hours to go...>

I smiled. The last message she had sent me was a selfie from earlier in the morning, with a tiara and a sash on. She had been grinning in that photo, looking truly happy. Ma Sha Allah.

<Farhaan: I'll be waiting.>

<Hoor: The wait is almost up.>

<Farhaan: I'm looking forward to the moment I see you as my bride.>

<Hoor: Here's a glimpse 👰🏽*bride emoji*>

I laughed out loud. 

<Farhaan: Gorgeous. 😉>

Only I knew how difficult it was, the wait of the next few hours.

*

Hooriya

Red. The traditional colour for a bride in desi countries.

The beautician added the final touches on my look, placing the dupatta on my up-do.

"It's a clip-on nath. It won't fall off right?" I adjusted the large round nose ring that had a chain which was pinned to the side of my head.

"It won't." Sasha, the head beautician, reassured me.

Dressed like a perfect ethnic bride, with a heavy red lehenga with gorgeous gold embroidery, I looked at my reflection in the mirror. The border of the dupatta sparkled magnificently, placed just above my hairline. A heavy maang tikka was placed on my forehead, matching my necklace and earrings. The dark shade of red lipstick completed the bridal look. 

The dress felt heavy, and two ladies had to guide me to a side room to take my solo bridal shot. It was more of a courtyard, than a side room. There was a fountain that provided soothing sound effects with its trickling water, and there were the red rose petals covering the ground. The photographer made me cup my hands together and scooped some petals into it, making me stand right in the middle of the courtyard, my lehenga brushing the petal-covered ground.

"Beautiful!" The beauticians complimenting me, clasping their hands together in glee as they admired their work. 

And I had to admit, the make-up was ethereal and the hair was styled in a way that I normally only see on models or on TV shows. It was the work of true professionals.

"The groom will not be able to hand such beauty!" Sasha complimented me. 

I had a few more photos taken, but then I started to notice the staff glancing at each other almost anxiously. I realised what the problem was. The clock was ticking, and there was no sign of anyone arriving to take me away. Since I was going to take the longest to get ready, Haya and my brothers were going to come back and pick me up.

"I'm going to go and call my sister." I told Sasha as I headed back into the main room.  Picking up the phone from where I'd left my handbag, I dialled Haya's number.

It rang for a while before she finally answered. "Hey, Hoor."

"Where are you? You guys should have been here ten minutes ago!" I sounded panicked even to my own ears.

"We'll be there very soon." She sounded a little...strange.

"Haya, what's going on?" I asked worriedly. "Is everything okay?" 

She didn't reply.

"Haya, tell me. I'm getting worried." I whispered out.

"Hoor..." 

My heart pounded hard in my chest as I awaited her next words.

*

Haya

While Hoor was getting ready, I returned home. I wore a tea pink maxi with lehenga, covered with golden embroidery, with a matching dupatta. My hair was pulled back from my face with pins, and I only agreed on natural shades of make-up.

Our home, being a wedding home, was a madhouse. Everyone was there: Dada Jaan, Dado, Nano, Kamran Uncle, Saim Mamu and his family, Yasin Chachu and his family, and even Hashir Mamu (without family).

Last minute preparations, and a need to leave for the venue as soon as possible created a chaos in the atmosphere. Plus, it was damn hot with all the people around.

"Mama, where are my shoes?" Rohaan called out from up the stairs.

"Do I have to wear a sherwani?" Arsalan complained, also from somewhere upstairs.

"Rohaan, your shoes are downstairs!" Mama replied. "Arsalan, just get ready quickly! It took me so much effort to find matching outfits for you brothers and your father!"

And then came the phone call.

"Anabia, your phone is ringing!" Laila Mumani came out of the living room, holding up Mama's phone.

"Can you check who it is, Laila?" Mama was adjusting her necklace in front of the foyer mirror.

"It's Anaya Bhabi." Mumani spoke quietly.

"At this time?" With a worried frown on her face, Mama walked over to Mumani and took the phone before answering it. "Assalam Alaikum, Anaya Bhabi." She listened to what Hoor's mother-in-law was saying at the other end, before her face paled. "What?" 

Papa was coming down the stairs, and he stopped at the bottom as he saw the look on Mama's face. "Anya, what's wrong?" 

The call ended, but Mama continued staring at her phone in shock. "Rehan..." She finally looked up at my father. "There's been a problem." 

"What problem?" Papa asked.

Briefly, the chaos around us stopped as everyone looked at Mama expectedly.

"The baraat won't be coming." Mama's voice broke.

*

Hooriya

"The baraat won't be coming." Haya informed me grimly.

"What? Why?" I whispered out, standing down as my legs were shaking.

"I don't know the details yet." She replied. "Mamu and Mumani are coming to pick you up and bring you back home."

"This is a joke, right?" Tears filled my eyes. "Haya, this isn't a nice prank. I'm already anxious enough without you scaring me further."

"Hoor, why would I prank you so cruelly?" She cried out. "It's true. Anaya Aunty just called Mama."

I shook my head. "Is Farhaan involved in this prank?" 

"Hoor."

"What is going on?!" I shouted out, my heart threatening to burst out of my chest and explode.

"Hoor." Papa's voice came at the other end. "Meri jaan, just get home with Saim Mamu and Mumani. We'll talk at home."

"Is Farhaan okay?" I suddenly thought of the one reason this could be happening. 

"We'll talk when you're home, Hoor." 

*

How the world of beautiful fantasy implodes into a raging nightmare is beyond my understanding. 

I was dressed as a bride, I felt the nervous anticipation of a bride. I felt the happiness of a bride, the sorrow of a departing daughter, the excitement of a wife who had married the man of her choice.

And then there was a loud unforeseeable metaphoric bang that destroyed everything in moments.

The baraat wasn't coming. I wasn't getting married tonight.

I had many questions, but no answers. Every time I felt that I knew the answer, it was all swept away by a wave of more questions, leaving me drowning in doubt and heartache.

What was going on? Why wasn't anyone telling me?

Did Farhaan back out of this marriage?

Was he okay? Was his family okay?

Why had he messaged me earlier when the baraat wasn't coming?

The emotions and nerves of the day got the best of me, and I silently cried in the back seat of my Mamu's car, even as he exchanged a worried look with his wife.

*

"Tumhari wajah se kisa ka dil toota hai. Tumhara bhi tootay ga." That terrifying woman Zareena had once said to me in Lahore. And now those words kept ringing in my mind over and over again.

*"Because of you someone's heart broke. Your heart will break too."

When I entered my house, Papa was pacing the living room speaking on the phone with someone, while everyone else sat around the living room.

"What's going on?" My voice broke as I asked.

My mother got up from a sofa and walked over to me immediately. "Hoor, Farhaan's family had a family emergency."

"What emergency?" I asked.

"His Rida Phupho suffered from a heart attack." Papa explained as his call ended.

"Oh." I blinked. "I'm very sorry to hear that." 

"Just pray for her good health okay?" Papa placed a hand on my head, looking almost emotional as he finally seemed to realise that he was seeing me as a bride. I knew that he was also reassuring me that there was genuine reason behind this, and that I had nothing to worry about.

"May Allah grant her good health. Ameen." I said, softly.

For some reason, I felt shaken. The random thought of Zareena and her creepiness sent a shiver through me. I knew that they had a genuine reason, but I couldn't shake off a strange feeling that had gripped me tightly.

*

I was in my room and I was in tears. I was being immature, or maybe the day's emotions were all attacking me simultaneously, making me weak and vulnerable.

The bride that didn't become a bride.

I stared at my eyes. They were red from unshed tears, as if they wanted to match the colour theme of my bridal attire. I felt tired and I was worried about the impending future. I prayed genuinely for Farhaan's Rida Phupho, but I also began to find anxiety gaining strong roots inside me. I felt a little superstitious. 

A little 'tick' sound caught my attention. I frowned, glancing towards the balcony doors. Shaking my head, I ignored it as I started to remove my dupatta.

Tick.

Again, the sound came from the direction of the balcony doors. Sighing, I lifted up my lehenga and walked over, pushing aside the thick curtains as well as the white lace ones and peering out. Unlocking the door, I stepped out and peered down.

My eyes widened as I saw Farhaan standing in the garden, wearing plain white kurta pajama that he probably was going to wear under the wedding sherwani. "Farhaan!"

"Neechay aaogi?" He called out.

*"Will you come downstairs?" 

I nodded. Feeling my heart well up, I turned around and headed back inside. Lifting up the lehenga, I slipped my feet into my flat bedroom slippers and rushed out of my room. Wearing pink slippers with my red bridal lehenga felt comical, but it was an act of desperate times. I headed outside and into the garden, to the side of the house directly underneath my room's balcony. "Farhaan!"

I found him right there and as I approached him, I threw my arms around him, placing my hands on his back. "I'm so sorry to hear about your Phupho's heart attack."

"Yeah. May Allah give her a quick recovery. Ameen." He whispered, his arms wrapping around me.

It was a night where we were meant to have been embracing each other in completely different ways, but instead I found myself giving him a hug of comfort, hoping that it would help him even if just a tiny percent. "Ameen." 

He pulled back slightly, placing his hands on my shoulders for a few seconds, before gently lifting up my chin with his index finger. "Maybe today wasn't the right time, but don't be disheartened okay? You're my wife, Hoor, and ultimately you belong beside me. We'll find our place by each other's side when the timing is right, In Sha Allah."

"Don't worry about that." I reassured him with a weak smile. "Focus on your family." 

He moved aside the maang tikka and kissed my forehead. "I just wanted to talk to you myself to make sure that you're updated of the situation." 

"Thank you." I kissed his cheek. "Give Phupho my regards. I will visit as soon as I can, In Sha Allah." I wrapped my arms around him again, tilting my head up to stare at him again. My dupatta slipped off now, yet clung on in a funny manner thanks to the random pins that had once kept it in place. 

But even as I hugged him and felt his strong arms around me, a weird thought flooded my mind repeatedly:

This wedding won't occur easily.

*

Is Hoor's fear legit? Will this wedding occur without further problems?

Thoughts and comments?

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