© All copyrights belong to StarsAndMoon1447 on Wattpad

*

Aizah

With my brother, Faizan, having the time of his life in Lahore, I was busy throwing myself in work. I was sitting in the café almost every day, my papers strewn about, working on potential ideas for the project.

"Would you like a coffee or a cold drink, Miss Faiz?"

I looked up and saw the resort manager, Kabeer Junejo, standing beside my table. "I'm good, thanks."

"Mrs Gillani said you've been working very hard and that we should ensure that you're well taken care of." He spoke politely and respectfully.

"If I have another cup of coffee, I will not be fine." I joked, giving him a brief smile. "Thank you anyway, Mr Junejo."

"You can call me Kabeer." He said. "And do let me or any of the staff know if you need anything."

"Sure, thanks." I continued studying blueprints as he walked away. Looking up, I found myself subconsciously staring at his retreating back. "Wait! Kabeer!"

He turned and looked at me questioningly. "Yes, Miss Faiz?"

"I'm thinking of taking a little break, and I always wanted to go see Faisal Mosque." I said. "Can you give me some touristic tips regarding getting there and getting back, please?"

"I can tell you that the resort can arrange transport for you, at an extra cost." He smiled slightly. "The driver can take you there and back. Completely safe and secure."

"Yeah, that sounds great." I nodded. I smoothed down my double layered long dress. The upper layer was green, the colour of leaves in springtime. This layer ended just above the ankle. The lower layer of the dress was white with floral patterns and was longer. "When can they take me?"

"I can arrange something for you." He said. "If you give me a few minutes, I will let you know."

"Thank you. I'm going to my room. Please let me know on the intercom." I began to gather up my paperwork and shut the lid of my laptop.

"No problem, Miss Faiz." He nodded and turned to walk away.

"You can call me Aizah." I slid the laptop into its bag and looked at him.

"That would go against the rules of our resort, Miss Faiz. Guests are to be address as either Madam or Sir, or by their titles and surnames."

"Fair enough. Although I won't really tell anyone if you broke the rule." I grinned.

"Some of us have no choice but to abide by the rules." He said. "Breaking rules is for the privileged; for those who can afford facing the consequences."

I was stunned by his words. And to be honest, he wasn't wrong. I knew how society worked. I knew how the whole damn world worked. The world was more lenient to those with heavier pockets. "Sorry, I meant no offence..." I felt like a spoilt, privileged brat.

"No offence taken, Miss Faiz." With a curt nod, he headed away.

I sighed. Can you ever keep your mouth shut, Aizah?

I took my things and headed to my room before I offended any other hotel staff.

*

I prayed at the mosque, naturally. Once done, I stared at the surrounding beauty of Pakistan's capital in awe.

Raising my phone up, I took a few photos, and made some videos.

Today's break from work made me think that I should take a proper break and join Faizan in Lahore. My two Lahore-based Phuphos were constantly calling me to check when I was coming. I guess it's time I paid them a visit.

I loved this time alone though. It gave me time to be just me, rather than a girl who was constantly questioned about her marital status. It gave me time to focus on my future, than to feel guilty about the stress my parents- especially Mama- was going through because of my single status. Right here, right now, I was just Aizah the architect. I didn't need to be anything else.

"Kuch kharabi hai ladki main?"

*"Is there something wrong with the girl?"

*"Anaya, kyun taal rahi ho iski shaadi? Koi masla hai?"

*"Anaya, why are you putting off her wedding? Is there a problem?"

*"Akalmandi ki baat hoti agar tum Farhaan aur Faizan se pehle Aizah ki shaadi karwate. Kaise lagta hai ke tees saal ki umar se upar behan kawari bethi hai aur bhaiyon ki shaadi ho jaye?"

*"It would have been wise if you got Aizah married before Farhaan and Faizan. How would it look if a sister over thirty remains unmarried while her brother are married off?"

My hand which held the phone up for another photo trembled, as the constant harsh words played on repeat in my mind.

"In modern ladkiyon ki sunte raho ge to inki kabhi shaadiyan nahin hongin!"

*"If you keep listening to these modern girls, they'll never get married!"

Papa always told me not to pay attention to the words of irrelevant people. He reassured me that in his lifetime, I had no reason to feel bad about my marital status. He told me that when Allah wanted it to happen, it would happen in a blink of an eye. It was all up to Him. We needed to respect our Creator's decisions rather than listen to the people of society who have nothing better to do than to gossip and criticise.

I glanced towards the mosque, my eyes brimming with tears. "I don't know what's planned for me, Allah, and I trust you. I just want to ease my parents' worries regarding me, that's all. I don't ever want to be the cause of their tension. Please find the relief for their pareshani regarding me. But please do whatever's best for me and my family."

*

"Jo hai tera lab jayega, karke koi bahana.

Tere bas main kuch vi nahin ay, dil nu eh samjhawan."

'Tu Jhoom'- Abida Parveen & Naseebo Lal

"What is yours will find you, using some excuse."

"Nothing is in you control, I explain to myself."

*

A/N: I find these lyrics so deep. And I dedicate Aizah's story to all girls/women who are constantly questioned about marriage, babies, etc. Stay strong! Everything has its right timing, but what's meant to be yours will never evade you. Don't listen to people, don't listen to society. I know it's easier said than done, but it's the only way to find some peace.

Whether you're Muslim, Hindu, Sikh, Christian, any other religion or an atheist, remember everything has a right time.

*

Rohaan

I waited as Ifra finished up her anti-bullying vlog. As soon as she stopped filming, I stood up. "That was great. Thanks, If."

"I cannot even ask anything in return as you're doing this for sweet Yamna."

I walked around the living room of Reem Khalla's house and picked up a photo frame in which Mama and Reem Khalla were surrounded by us kids in a park when we were much younger. "I'm strangely overprotective of her. I loathe it when someone hurts my family." I looked up to put the frame back on the mantlepiece when I noticed Ifra's gaze on me. "What?"

"You have a heart of gold, Ro. No matter how tough you act." 

I shrugged modestly and turned to face her with my hands in my pockets. "I am tough. And I'm even tougher when someone messed with people I love or care about."

Ifra stepped towards me and held up the phone to show me the rapidly increasing views on her vlog. 

"Wow. You really are popular." I whistled in awe. Again, I felt her gaze on me and turned to her to find her blue eyes fixed on me. "Thanks again, If." How had I never noticed her eyes before? What a beautiful colour, Ma Sha Allah.

Oh, shut up, Ro. Mama will kill you.

She blinked and shook her head lightly, clearing her throat. Turning away, she replied, "No worries. But did you guys tell Yasin Uncle and Saba Aunty about this bullying?"

"Of course. They spoke to the school and were reassured that Yamna would not be bullied again." I scoffed. "As if I believe that for even a second." I couldn't admit out loud how genuinely worried I was about our little hamster. She was too innocent, and the thought of violence being inflicted on her made me furious.

"I wish I had someone like you when I faced some mean girls after Harris had moved onto Sixth Form." She spoke almost sadly. "At that point, I was too afraid to tell him or my parents."

"You should have told me. I can start up a fight or two for you." I realised my words, and immediately added. "For Reem Khalla's sake, I mean."

"With girls?" 

"I didn't say a physical fight only, did I?" I smirked. "See you later, If. You've been awesome." I started to walk away.

"Can I count on you in the future?" 

I stopped in my tracks, my heart skipping a beat for a weird reason. I glanced over my shoulders. "Yeah, If. Anytime."

*

A scene requested by storiesbyzainab

"Dad, are you here?" I knocked on the study door and opened it before I received a reply.

I was surprised to find Yamna sitting at the desk instead. She had Papa's laptop open, and was sipping something from a coffee mug. When I entered, she shrieked and the mug slipped from her fingers, spilling milk over Papa's laptop. "Oh no! Oh no! Oh no! NOOOO!" She burst into tears.

"Relax, hamster. I ain't no monster." I walked over. "Although I can't say the same for you for damaging Papa's laptop."

She started sobbing harder. "Tayan's going to kill me!" 

"Tayan? Kill? You?" I chuckled. "Move."

She got off the chair and stepped aside as I flopped down onto the chair to examine the damage. "Go and get me some tissue paper. Let's see if we can sort this out."

Yamna just stood there, looking shocked.

"Yo, hamster, it will get worse if we don't try to sort out the damage now." 

She turned and ran out of the room. A few seconds later she returned with a kitchen roll. I took the items and began to clean up the laptop, whistling. Once I'd finished, I pressed the power button, and waited...and waited...and waited. "S**t."

"It's not turning on!" Yamna's eyes widened.

"Maybe it's not been charged and..."

"It was seventy percent charged!" Yamna sat down on the floor, hugging her knees to her chest, rocking slowly as a panic attack seemingly started to make an appearance.

"I'll tell Papa I did it." I told her, reassuringly. "If you don't complain to him about me for two months."

She shook her head. "I don't lie."

"You're not. I'm just taking the blame to help you out." I shrugged.

"Can you please try and see if it could be fixed first?" 

"Hamster, I don't know much about laptops. Smartphones and tablets, yes, but laptops? No." A thought occurred to me and I instantly reached for my phone. "But I know someone who does." I dialled the number.

After two rings, the phone was answered. "Hello?"

"Mikael Bhai? This is Rohaan. I need your help with something, and it's urgent. We're literally on a time limit." 

*

It was a tense situation. I was pacing the study, constantly glancing towards the door, worrying that Papa would walk in and discover that he could have lost potentially a great amount of work. If I was tensed, Yamna was practically chewing her fingers off. Mikael Bhai remained calm though as he worked on the laptop, with the expertise of a surgeon performing surgery.

"Is it dead forever?" Yamna asked him, worriedly.

Mikael Bhai smiled up at her. "Don't worry, kiddo. I think the spillage was superficial, and didn't go in too deep." He had taken out the battery. "The battery isn't wet, which is good." After a thorough examination of the laptop, he put the battery back in and pressed the power button. Yamna and I watched with bated breath and neither of us relaxed until the screen lit up and the log-in screen appeared. He glanced up at me. "Do you have the password to this? I want to ensure that everything is okay?" After I nodded and signed him in, he did some checks, his fingers speeding over the keys, his gaze not once leaving the screen. "All seems good, but it's better if you tell Rehan Uncle so that he can check that he didn't lose anything." 

"I cannot thank you enough, bro." I shook his hand after he stood up.

"Don't worry about it." Mikael Bhai smiled at Yamna. "Don't worry, kiddo. All is well." 

I walked him out and I returned back to the study to see Yamna still standing where I'd left her, her head bowed. "Kid, quit worrying. I told you I'll take the blame. I mean, technically I did startle you."

"I'm scared." She whimpered.

"Of your Tayan? Hamster, he'd never say anything to you." I ruffled her hair. "Now, go and see what Behaya is up to. Let me clean up the milk spillage from the floor, before our Detective sahab discovers the remnants of a perfect crime."

To my surprise, she hugged me, pressing her face against my stomach. "Thank you, Rohaan Bhai."

"Don't worry about it, Yum-Yum." Again, I ruffled her hair. 

*

When Papa returned, I was in the living room watching TV. Arsal sat on the armchair, his focus on his tablet, whereas Yamna sat nearby, reading a book.

As soon as we heard Papa's voice in the foyer, the little hamster looked at me, wide-eyed. I just lazily stretched out and nodded at her reassuringly. "Assalam Alaikum." I said as my father walked in.

"Assalam Alaikum, Tayan!" Yamna loudly whispered.

"Walaikum Assalam." He ruffled his niece's head before leaning down to kiss her forehead.

"We didn't do anything!" Yamna blurted out.

I actually facepalmed. I'd told her I'd handle it, but Tayan's chamchi just couldn't keep a secret from him.

Papa looked at me curiously, his eyebrows raised.

"I spilled milk on your laptop!" Yamna's eyes filled with tears. "I'm sorry!" 

This girl...

"What?" Papa frowned, looking alarmed. He glanced in my direction again.

"It's okay. Mikael Bhai had a look. It's all good. All you need to do is check your files to make sure everything is there and working well." I told him, calmly. A cheeky grin appeared on her face. "Are you not going to tell her off, Dad?" 

Yamna actually looked terrified. "Don't hate me, Tayan. I'm sorry."

He sat down beside her and ran a hand over her head. "Oh, Yamna, you are too young to even be thinking about the word 'hate'. And how can I possibly hate you?" 

"Are you angry?" She still looked worried.

"No, anger and disappointment is especially reserved for me." I am the one who replied.

"Rohaan." He shook his head at me, before turning back to Yamna. "I'm happy that you were honest with me, Yamna. I can see that you feel bad. Just be careful next time, okay?" 

Yamna nodded. "I will, Tayan. I promise." 

"Now go and see what Anabia Tayi got for you. She's in the kitchen." 

Yamna jumped up and ran towards the kitchen, beaming.

"So, next time I make a mistake, all I have to do is accept it honestly, and I'll get away with it?" I asked.

"The key here is repentance, Rohaan. If you genuinely realise your mistake, own up to it and promise not to repeat it again, you will be shown leniency too. But not if you keep repeating the same mistake over and over again because that's not repentance."

I realised that I had a tendency to keep making the same mistakes, and hence, the daant I received was much harsher than what Yamna had experienced. Like when I had just a provisional license- and not a driving license- I took the car out three times. Or the way I kept repeatedly provoking and annoying Haya. 

So yeah, my daant was always justified. 

*

Haya

I zipped up the bag and dragged it off the bed. I felt strangely nervous.

"Where are you going, Haya?" Mama had just returned home and had stepped out of her room, freeing her hair from the professional bun she did for work. 

"A bunch of us are getting together for a friendly match." I told her, looking down at my cricket kit.

"Not that girl, right?" She frowned, worried.

"No, Mama, not Bela. God even knows where she is." I sighed. 

"Haya, be careful!" After my last injury- thanks to that malicious Bela- Mama was afraid of me playing again.

"Players get up after a fall, Mama. Staying down is not an option." I walked up to her and kissed her cheek. "Don't worry. Your Haya is still a good player. I'll just be more vigilant now against potential backstabbers."

She nodded, even though she didn't look fully reassured. "Allah Hafiz."

"Allah Hafiz." Turning, I headed downstairs, dragging my cricket kit and equipment along with me. 

*

I was loading the large duffle bag into the car boot after a wonderful game, a smile on my face. It felt good to play. And the power sixers that I had sent flying across the field had reminded me of my potential in this sport. 

"Good game?" 

I turned and saw Aariz walking towards me, dressed in cricket kit, with his own duffle bag. "Good? It's my therapy. Like people have retail therapy, I have cricket therapy. It's refreshing and it brings me peace."

"Cool. But I meant the game that you just played right now."

"It refreshed me and brought me peace." I shrugged. "Plus I had three sixers, so that was really cool."

"Three sixers? That's impressive."

"That's Haya Rehan." I shut the car boot and turned to him. "Have a good game." A part of me wanted to stay there and talk to him, but given the circumstances, it felt wrong. The fact that our marriage was being discussed made this whole situation even more sensitive and I had to behave carefully. 

"I will, win or lose. As you said, cricket is like therapy. It's a much needed break away from work." 

"Yeah, except that a lot of people use it as an excuse to have their blood pressure raised, rather than take it as a game."

"True. For some, cricket is war. Or a game of life and death."

"It's life for me too, but I know the difference between 'it's just a game', to 'it's war and I'll destroy anyone from the opposing team'." 

"So if in the future we're supporting opposite sides?" 

"We'll display good sportsmanship. If players can toss aside their opposition and shake hands after a match, why do fans get all dramatic?" 

"So, it's a deal? No arguments over cricket?" 

"It's more than a deal. It's a rule. Take it as it is, a game. And a game is not more important than our relationships." I still remember the loud arguments Rohaan used to have with Bunny and Harris over football matches. They still had those arguments even now, and once Rohaan ended up almost kicking out the other two boys from our house because of how heated things got. Fortunately, Mama put a stop to it, and the three were not allowed to watch the match until they apologised to each other and cleared things up. Rohaan, of course, had more to apologise for, being the host.

"It's a rule that I will abide till my final breath, In Sha Allah."

His gaze on me was so intense that it made me almost breathless. His demeanour was calm and collected, but his face and eyes were expressive to the point that I felt like we were having a full blown verbal conversation. 

I was suddenly taken aback by this strange, wordless conversation. "I..." I cleared my throat. "I have to go. Good luck with the game. Allah Hafiz."

"Allah Hafiz, Haya."

When I was inside the car, and he had walked away, I gripped the steering wheel tightly. I'd read about these feelings in the romance books of Hoor's that I'd sneakily read. The pounding heart, the sweaty palms, the nervousness. I'd never imagined that I, Haya Rehan, would ever be feeling this way. A smile appeared on my face. Aariz was the first person who'd ever made me feel this way, and I hoped that he'd always be the only one, In Sha Allah.

*

Faizan

"Yo, Faizan!" Issa's voice made me turn.

I was standing on the terrace of Issa's Taya's house, in Lahore DHA. The terrace was large enough to have a barbecue, which was exactly what we were doing. It was a terrible idea though, due to the heat and humidity, but with plenty of cold soft drinks going around, we were managing. It helped that it was after sunset, so temperatures were just a tiny bit cooler as compared to the day when the sun had shown no mercy.

"Want some chicken tikka?" Issa offered.

"I'm good, thanks." I stared down at the plate which I was holding.

Issa came and stood beside me.

"This is a nice house, Ma Sha Allah." I nodded in approval.

"It has a long family history. It belonged to my paternal grandfather's parents, and was passed onto my Dada Jaan. He eventually sold it saying that there was no need for the family to have such a large home anymore, but recently, Ismael Taya purchased it. It has returned to the Sheikhs."

"That's awesome."

"It is." He looked at me. "Wasn't Mamu thinking about purchasing a house in this area? There is a listing close by to us, if you want to have a look on his behalf."

"I think he dropped the idea ever since he thought about reviving the Rose Luxe chain of hotels."

"Oh yeah, Mama is so bittersweet about that. She says she has good memories, but also some memories that she wants to forget, connected to that hotel. But she said that Mamu worked hard on it and if he wants it back, she'll fully support him."

"I'd be interested to know the drama behind it." 

"Somethings are best left in the past, mate." Issa slapped my arm. "Now go and get a drink, man. You look dehydrated."

"I will in a minute." I told him and he turned to walk back towards the barbecue grill. Taking my phone out of my pocket, I messaged Aizah.

<Faizan: All good?>

I hadn't heard from her in a while. This was actually my third message to her. And when I couldn't get through to her on the phone, I had called the resort and had been informed that she had gone out sightseeing with a car and driver provided by the resort.

<Aizah: 👍🏼>

<Faizan: What are you up to?>

<Aizah: I was just out. I went to see the Faisal Mosque, and then just drove around.>

<Faizan: Are you back at the resort yet?>

<Aizah: Yes, Papa. I'm back. 😒>
<Aizah: How's Lahore?>

I felt almost bad telling her how much fun I was having. It was good to catch up with Issa and Suleyman again. We stayed up late into the night, talking, eating snacks and drinking soft drinks, and playing video games. Dania Phupho was pampering me so much, ensuring that my favourite food was cooked every day, and constantly asking me if I wanted something to eat or drink. She kept telling me how much she missed her brother (Papa) every time she looked at me. I'd joked that I could go back if I caused her sadness, and she had lightly pulled my ear and had said 'Khabardar!'.

*"Don't you dare!"

But even amidst this fun, even amidst my concern for my sister, my mind kept wandering back there. I thought about the beauty who I'd had two chance encounters with: first, upon my arrival at Islamabad airport, and second, in the coach. After that brief meeting where she had told me that she was born on a plane, and we had discussed how we were named, respectively, I didn't get a chance to speak to her, and I had rushed off the coach upon seeing Phupho and Issa waiting or me at the bus station. When I'd remembered Saliha Sameer, and had turned to say goodbye to her, she was already gone. My last glimpse of her was when she was getting into a black SUV.

"Zan, you coming?!" Suleyman shouted out.

While Issa was taller with a lean built, Suleyman was shorter and chubbier, with a boyish face that made him look younger than he was. Between the two, Issa was the cheekier one, while Suleyman was almost reserved- unless he was with cousins, like now.

"Coming."

"Ki hoya? Kisi ladki wadki da te chakar nahi?" Issa whispered as I walked up to him.

*"What happened? Is this about a girl?" 

I sighed. "It's not always about a girl, Issa."

"But it is, this time?" He grinned. "Who is she?" 

Some cousins are the perfect combination of best friends and family. Issa was that cousin for me. He knew me too well, even if we lived in different countries and only generally chatted on video calls or messages.

"How do I tell my parents that they should prepare for a potential second daughter-in-law?" I sheepishly asked Issa.

It was only when we were eating that my phone started ringing. I looked at the caller ID. "Papa?" I answered almost immediately. "Assalam Alaikum, Papa."

"Do you even know what's going on in Islamabad? You're in Lahore enjoying, while your sister is all alone up there!" He was furious.

"What are you talking about? What happened?" I stood up, confused.

"There are riots in Islamabad, Faizan!" Mama was crying as she jumped in, the call clearly being on loudspeaker.

*

Aizah

I arrived back at the hotel feeling shaken.

Kabeer and a few other staff members strode across the lobby, stopping right in front of me. "Are you two okay?" The manager demanded, looking at the driver who stood just behind me. 

"There were...riots..." I whispered out.

Kabeer nodded at a female staff member who rushed up to me and gently grabbed my arm, before leading me towards a sofa in the lobby. Meanwhile, another staff member was sent to get me a bottle of water.

I closed my eyes as my vision spun. The terrifying scene of being stuck in traffic in a locked car, with a mob of people swarming around between the cars, screaming and shouting and throwing stuff. They had started banging on car windows, and I had genuinely felt like I was going to be killed. From what I could hear, it was a protest regarding some new government policies that increased taxes, as well as ensured higher bills for people. Some were complaining about the constant load shedding, or the lack of gas or water in their homes. Some were shouting about how their bills were higher than their salaries. While these people had my full sympathy, I feared being in a crowd that seemed to be getting angrier and angrier.

"Are you okay?" A calm voice pulled me back to the present.

I opened my eyes and saw a pair of warm dark eyes on me, reflecting nothing but concern. "I'm just a little shaken, that's all. This was my first riot." I managed a weak smile.

"Even if you're scared on the inside, act like a brave bada** on the outside." Faizan often advised me.

A bottle of water was handed over to me, and I finished it off immediately.

"As soon as there were reports of situation deteriorating around the city, I called the driver to bring you back." Kabeer spoke.

"Today made me realise my true privilege." I felt my eyes well up with empathy for the people. "How can people survive when the bills are higher than their salaries?" 

He sat down beside me. "It's a very dire situation in this country. People are praying for a miracle." He glanced up at his staff, before looking up at me. "I know it's poor timing, but would you like something to eat?"

I nodded. "I think that's a good idea. I feel weak."

"So, what happened?" Kabeer asked. "How did you guys get out so quickly?" 

"The protesters had blocked the road ahead, but the driver managed to turn the car around and drive back here." 

"Unfortunately because it's a capital, you can expect a protest on a regular basis."

I was still shaken, but I was starting to feel a little better. I was safe here at this resort- hopefully.

"I ended up caught in a protest once." Kabeer added. "Ended up getting hit on the forehead with a rock." 

"Ouch." 

"Yeah, that wasn't fun, but I was told it was part and parcel of living in the capital city." 

"Yeah, well that sucks. People shouldn't have to live like this. Of course they would be angry, and they would only get angrier." 

I felt too privileged. I'd never had to face a lack of anything so far in my life.

"My paternal grandparents used to live in slums." He spoke out almost absent-mindedly, with a faraway look on his face. "As their kids grew, they started to find jobs: as drivers, maids, gardeners, etc. My own parents worked in the same household as a driver and a maid respectively, having migrated from Sindh. They did everything to provide me an education, and after that I earned a scholarship to get a degree." 

"That's inspirational. A story of strength. Ma Sha Allah."

"I can feel the sentiments, Miss Faiz. I've seen my own parents' struggles." His looked at me.

"I'm very sorry to hear that." 

"Don't be." He gave me a reassuring smile. "These experiences taught us a lot, and I'm glad about it."

I couldn't help looking at him. There was an inherent calmness in him, but I could tell by his words how much trauma he must have faced. It made my heart ache.

We were all equals in front of Allah, so why does the world does its damn best to ensure that there's an obvious distance between the classes? 

"It's okay, Miss Faiz. Bright days will come, In Sha Allah. After every hardship, there's ease. And when it feels like there's no way out, Allah creates a way. Trust Him on that."

"In Sha Allah." I whispered.

*

Aizah and Kabeer are slowly warming up to each other.

Rohaan cares about Yamna so much!

Thoughts and comments?

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