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•••

Flashback**

"Please, Arsal bhai, maan jaye. Aap jayenge toh hi mummy aur dadi mujhe jane dengi." Azrin pleaded, her tone bordering on desperation.

(Please, Arsal Bhai, just agree. If you go, only then will Mom and Dadi let me go.)

Arsalan leaned back on the sofa, tea in hand, looking entirely too smug. "No," he replied with a leisurely sip. Moments when the otherwise proud Aala Azrin would make requests like this were rare, and he intended to enjoy them.

Azrin wanted to attend an evening event in the city, but no one would let her go alone at night. The only way she could attend was if Arsalan went with her. But her bribes-like the tea she had painstakingly made-were clearly failing.

"Pretty please? I’ll do whatever you say," she tried again, her eyes wide with hope.

"Pehle mera naam lena seekhlo," Arsalan teased, his grin widening.

(First, learn to say my name properly,)

"Sahi toh leti hoon." Azrin protested, oblivious to the countless variations of his name she'd invented over time.

(But I do say it correctly.)

"Mera kahi jane ka plan nahi. Aj toh main nani ke yaha aram se rahunga," Arsalan declared smugly, stretching out on the sofa.

(I’m not going anywhere. I plan to relax at Nani’s place today.)

Azrin's face fell as frustration bubbled over. Shooting him a glare, she stomped her foot and spun around to leave, only to trip over the table.

"Ouch!" she cried, clutching her foot dramatically as she sank to the floor. Her wail brought Rukhsar, Rehnuma, and Shyra rushing into the room.

"Kya hua?" They asked in unison, alarm etched across their faces.

(What happened?)

"Yeh raste mein aise paov rakhe the main gir gayi." Azrin lied smoothly, her tone dripping with innocence.

(He left his foot in the way, and I tripped over it.)

Arsalan froze in shock, his worry for her quickly morphing into disbelief at her audacity.

"Arsalan!" Rehnuma's sharp voice brought him back to reality.

"Mummy, maine kuch nahi kiya. Jhoot bol rahi hai yeh," Arsalan defended himself, but who would believe him when it came to Azrin's theatrics?

(Mummy, I didn’t do anything. She’s lying!)

Only Ayla would scold her daughter and take Arsalan's side, but unfortunately, she wasn't home at the moment.

"Main toh bas inse request kar rahi thi mujhe bahar le jaye. Lekin yeh nahi mane toh main jane lagi par yeh..." Azrin explained with a feigned innocence that only sharpened the anger in Rehnuma's eyes.

(I’ve been asking him to take me to the fair, but he wouldn’t agree. When I tried to leave, this happened...)

"Kyu nahi le ja rahe ho? Leke jao ussey jaha jana hai." Rehnuma ordered, leaving no room for protest.

(Why won’t you take her? Just take her wherever she wants to go.)

Azrin flashed Arsalan a victorious smirk, her earlier pain, if there was any, forgotten.

This was precisely why Arsalan never wanted to marry Azrin. She was a compulsive liar, an unapologetic drama queen, and a magnet for trouble. He wanted a mature, sensible partner, not someone who turned every little disagreement into a production.

And yet, the heart has its way of flipping unexpectedly. Sometimes, the person you never even considered-the one you once thought of as a nightmare to live with-starts seeming perfect in a single moment.

That moment came late in Arsalan's life, and the regret of it lingered forever.

Azrin's rejection had first wounded his ego. Arsalan, who had girls swooning over him from school to university—and even now—girls who would do anything just to catch a glimpse of him, had been rejected. And not just by anyone, but by a girl he had never considered worthy of him.

But that day, when he heard his own words echoed back through his mother’s mouth, something stirred in his heart.

Everyone in the haveli was stunned by Azrin's refusal. For them, Arsalan's proposal was perfect, and there seemed to be no valid reason for rejection. Rukhsar’s first suspicion fell on Ayla, thinking she was behind the refusal, not wanting her daughter’s marriage to the son of Rehnuma.

But Ayla remained silent, concealing the truth. She knew the real reason, Azrin’s deep-seated feelings of inferiority. Ayla didn’t want to tell everyone of her daughter’s insecurity.

Azrin, however, wasn’t so oblivious. Aware of the ongoing discussions, she confidently expressed her thoughts to Rukhsar, without hesitation.

Rukhsar fell silent at Azrin's refusal, but Rehnuma got angry.

“Aur, Mummy, aap kehti hain main Ayla se achhe se baat kiya karu badi bhabhi hai woh meri, lekin usko toh kabhi ehsas nahi hota inn rishto ka shuru se.” Rehnuma was complaining to Rukhsar on the phone. Though she had wanted to confront Ayla in person, she chose to vent her frustrations to Rukhsar over the phone instead.

(And, Mummy, you keep telling me to talk nicely to Ayla since she’s my elder sister-in-law, but she’s never valued these relationships from the start.)

“Tum kaha ki baat kaha le ja rahi ho?” Rukhsar asked. Puzzled, why Ayla was being brought into the conversation.

(Where is this coming from?)

“Kyuki baat hi yahi hai. Ayla ne sirf iss liye mana kiya haina kyuki Arsalan mera beta hai.”

(Because this is what it’s all about. Ayla only refused because Arsalan is my son.)

“Rehnuma, Ayla ne mana nahi kiya, bas Azrin thora darr gayi shadi ka sunke isliye...” Rukhsar tried to explain.

(Rehnuma, Ayla didn’t refuse; it’s just that Azrin got a little nervous hearing about marriage, that’s all…)

“Azrin ne mana kiya aur aap sab maan gaye,” Rehnuma scoffed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. At that very moment, Arsalan entered the lounge and overheard Rehnuma’s words. He paused briefly, then quietly sat down on the sofa. Rehnuma, still engrossed in her conversation, didn’t notice his arrival.

(Azrin refused, and all of you agreed.)

“Mummy, rehne dein, Ayla ne mana kiya hai iss rishte se main janti hoon. Aur mere samajh nahi araha Ayla ko guroor kis baat ka hai? Mere Arsalan se zyada kabil koi hai khandan mein? Phir bhi uske liye Azrin ka hath manga maine warna issey achhe achhe rishte hain Arsalan ke liye.”

(Mymmy, let it be. Ayla rejected this proposal. I know that. And I don’t understand what Ayla is so proud of. Is there anyone in the family more capable than my Arsalan? Still, I asked for Azrin’s hand for him; otherwise, Arsalan has far better matches available.)

“Iss baat ka kya matlab hua?” Rukhsar asked, trying to contain her anger. She understood the meaning behind Rehnuma’s words but couldn’t believe Rehnuma would speak about Azrin in such a manner.

(What do you mean by that?)

“Matlab aap janti hain. Azrin mein husn ke alawa aur koi khoobi nahi aur ussey apni bahu maine sirf aur sirf bhai ke pyar mein banana chaha lekin yeh maa beti ke alag hi mizaj hain.” Rehnuma’s tone was filled with arrogance, and she was simply repeating what Arsalan had said to reject the proposal.

(You know what I mean. Azrin has nothing besides her beauty, and I only wanted to make her my daughter-in-law out of love for my brother. But this mother-daughter duo has an entirely different attitude.)

Arsalan looked at Rehnuma in shock, surprised and displeased by the way she spoke about Azrin. He felt uncomfortable hearing his mother say such things, especially since he himself had often belittled Azrin—be it about her education or her clumsiness, even in front of her. Azrin always fired back, never hesitating to argue with him. But today, hearing those same words from Rehnuma left Arsalan feeling uneasy.

He quietly got up and left, not wanting to hear anything further. Behind him, Rehnuma’s voice grew faint as he climbed the stairs to his room.

Arsalan had often used such words to demean Azrin, frequently pointing out her faults to her face. Yet, hearing Rehnuma say the same now didn’t sit well with him. He felt ashamed, realizing that perhaps it was his own words that had influenced Rehnuma to think this way.

For the first time, he regretted it.

•••

It had been days since they had last visited Khan Haveli. Rehnuma’s anger was palpable, and she hadn’t allowed Huda to stay there either. Arsalan, consumed by guilt, avoided going too. Eventually, it was Huzaifa who came to talk to Rehnuma. Despite her anger, Rehnuma said nothing in front of her father. She began visiting Khan Haveli again, but Arsalan didn’t accompany her as usual.

Time passed, and then one day, he suddenly heard about Azrin’s wedding.

This time, he had to go, and he went happily. He had met Emmad a couple of times and thought he was a good guy. Sure, he wasn’t on their level in terms of status, but somehow, everyone had agreed. Everyone seemed happy because Azrin was happy. Seeing her happiness brought Arsalan some peace too. But the heart, it changes so quickly.

It was the day of Azrin’s Mayoon ceremony. Kian and Ehan were still too young, so Arsalan was everywhere with Kaif, helping him out.

As he stepped back inside after checking the outdoor decorations, he froze. Azrin had arrived.

She was breathtaking. Draped in a vibrant orange and pink peshwas, her radiant face needed no makeup. Her long, loose hair cascaded down her back, adorned with a simple gajra, covered by a dupatta. Her wrists jingled with bangles and jasmine and rose bracelets. This wasn’t the Azrin he remembered—the girl who dressed carelessly, who never seemed to bother with appearances. Today, she looked… ethereal.

Walking beside her mother, Azrin passed close to Arsalan. Like everyone else, he couldn’t help but stop and stare.

Azrin sat on the swing, and the rituals began. Everyone took turns applying haldi on her, and she smiled, listening to everyone talk. Happiness radiated from her face. She wasn’t acting like a typical shy bride, nor was she crying. She was genuinely happy about her wedding.

Arsalan’s faint smile faltered, the corners of his lips trembling before fading completely. It felt as though someone had reached into his chest and clenched his heart tightly. The lively aangan around him blurred. Amid the laughter, the music, and the festive air, Arsalan suddenly felt unbearably hollow.

Unable to endure it any longer, he slipped away into the lawn, gasping for air. But even the open sky above couldn’t calm him. He wiped his face, his fingers trembling as he struggled to compose himself.

The following days were a haze of confusion. Arsalan wrestled with emotions he couldn’t name. The realization hit him with brutal clarity during Azrin’s rukhsati. As the car carrying her drove away, leaving behind teary-eyed family, Arsalan finally understood what he had lost.

Azrin.

The same Azrin whose ways had annoyed him. The same girl he had once rejected, deeming her unworthy. The girl he’d thought he could never love.

But love her, he did. And now, she belonged to someone else.

Shame and regret gnawed at his soul. That night, he did wudu and stood in prayer, seeking solace. He poured his heart out to God, apologizing for his feelings and praying for Azrin’s happiness. It was all he could do—ask for her well-being, even if it tore him apart.

He couldn’t bring himself to attend the walima. The thought of seeing her with someone else was unbearable. He avoided the mirror, unable to face himself.

Rehnuma again brought up his marriage, but Arsalan couldn’t imagine being with anyone else. His idealistic dreams of love had shattered, leaving behind only the bitter truth—it would never be Azrin. To escape, he left the country, distancing himself from the memories that haunted him.

Years passed, yet the ache remained. Guilt for hurting his parents eventually drew him back home. But he returned on one condition: Rehnuma wouldn’t bring up marriage again. She reluctantly agreed.

Since his return, Rehnuma had urged him to visit Khan Haveli. Rukhsar missed him. But Arsalan found excuse after excuse. The house was a vault of memories—of him, Azrin, and everything he’d lost. He kept saying later, until Rehnuma stopped asking.

Today, he went to meet a friend who dragged him to shop for a gift for his wife.

“Tumhe kya lagta hai konsa wala hoon?” Fahdi asked, showing him two necklaces.

(What do you think? Which one?)

“Tumhe jo lena hai lo.” Arsalan snapped, annoyed. He had come to meet his friend, not to help him shop.

(Pick whichever you want.)

Sensing Arsalan’s mood, Fahdi turned away to make his own decision. Arsalan’s phone rang, and he stepped outside to answer.

As he pulled the phone from his pocket, a child’s voice stopped him.

“Mamma, dekhiye! Balloons!”

(Maama, look! Balloons!)

Arsalan’s gaze shifted to the little girl tugging at her mother’s dupatta. Her brown hair was tied in two ponytails, her cheeks naturally rosy. Dressed in a blue skirt and top, she couldn’t have been older than five. She looked just like Azrin had at that age—except for her striking blue eyes.

“Abhi nahi, Anni, baad mein.” the mother said, steering her toward a shop. Arsalan’s breath hitched as his eyes landed on the woman.

(Not now, Anni, later.)

It was her.

Azrin.

She didn’t notice him, as she was in a hurry, guiding her daughter into a shop. Arsalan stood rooted to the spot, a whirlwind of emotions stirring within him. Not knowing what to do, he returned to his car and drove away.

He had been avoiding her, yet fate had brought him face-to-face with her. She still looked the same, except for the glow of motherhood on her face. And her daughter—so adorable, just like her when she was a kid.

At a traffic signal, Arsalan stopped the car and took a deep breath to calm his racing heart. His eyes fell on a balloon vendor. Rolling down his window, Arsalan bought all the balloons, a ghost of a smile flitting across his face. He thought about visiting Khan Haveli to see his grandmother first, then taking Kian along to visit Azrin’s house. He could imagine how delighted Anni would be to see the balloons. But what he got to know upon reaching Khan Haveli was something he had never imagined.

•••

The past was gone, but its shadows lingered, like a snake coiled and ready to strike. The memories clung to Arsalan, suffocating him even in the present.

Saif sat in silence for what felt like an eternity, his gaze distant yet thoughtful. Arsalan didn’t speak either, his eyes fixed on his hands, as if searching for answers in the lines of his palms.

Finally, Saif broke the silence. "Arsalan." His voice was steady, yet laden with uncertainty. Arsalan looked up, meeting his father’s gaze.

"Tum jante ho yeh sab bohot complicated hai." Saif began, his words slow and deliberate, as if bracing Arsalan for what was to come.

(You know this situation is very complicated.)

"Main janta hoon," Arsalan replied softly, his head bowing again under the invisible weight of guilt and regret. The thought that his emptiness might have robbed Azrin of her happiness gnawed at his soul.

(I know,)

Saif hesitated, his lips pressing into a thin line before he spoke again. "Lekin... Aaj nahi toh kal Kaif Azrin ki phirse shadi karna chahega."

(But... Sooner or later, Kaif will want Azrin to remarry.)

The words hit Arsalan like a blow to the chest. His head shot up. "Papa, abhi woh iss state mein nahi hai."

(Papa, she's not in that state right now.)

"Abhi nahi hai," Saif agreed, his tone calm but unwavering. "Lekin ek waqt ke baad Kaif aur Ayla bhabhi chahenge woh apni life mein move on kare. Har maa baap chahte hain unke bachhe unki zindagi mein hi settle ho jaye."

(Not now,)

(But after some time, Kaif and Ayla Bhabhi will want her to move on with her life. Every parent wishes to see their children settled while they’re still alive.)

Arsalan clenched his fists, his heart pounding with conflicting emotions.

Saif leaned forward slightly, his eyes sharp and probing. "Kya tum uske past ko begair beech mein laye ussey qubool karoge?"

(Will you accept her, without bringing her past into the equation?)

The question was a lightning bolt to Arsalan’s chest, leaving him momentarily stunned. His lips parted, but no words came out. The silence stretched thin between them, heavy with meaning.

"Bolo?" Saif pressed, his voice gentle.

(Answer me?)

Arsalan finally drew a deep breath, his voice steady but filled with resolve. "Mujhe unn sab se farq nahi parhta." His voice faltered for a moment, his gaze dropping. "Lekin main Azrin ke sath zabardasti nahi kar sakta."

(I don't care about any of that,)

(But I can’t force Azrin into anything.)

•••

Bhai yeh toh shuru hote hi khatam ho gaya🙊

Actually na, Two days ago, I sprained my right hand, yesterday I fell down and bumped into a wall (sachhi wala wall, wattpad wala wall nahi,) and today my left hand got burned. Main itna achha likhti hoon kya jo nazar lag gayi? 🐒 Khair, now I can’t write anything, so I thought I’d just post whatever I’ve written isliye chotu update.

Khair, how's the update?

-Ufaq