emaanahmedkhan1 I know apke papers hain, so I thought I’d post an update to help you relax a bit. 🙈

•••

Yun na akar baitha karein samne mere
Dekhiye, sabr toh sabr hai, yeh mujhse har baar nahi hota

~

Eifa stepped out of her house, squinting slightly against the morning sun, when she noticed Kian emerging from his house. He was heading toward the university, his bag slung casually over one shoulder. Their eyes met briefly, and to her surprise, he stopped mid-step, visibly hesitant.

“Eh…” he muttered, glancing around awkwardly, clearly searching for the right words. His uneasiness made Eifa feel a little strange, though she managed to keep her expression neutral. She had known about the proposal before him and had acted normally around him, but now, seeing his discomfort, the absurdity of the situation hit her.

“Hi,” Kian finally said, his voice tentative.

Eifa’s lips twitched before a burst of laughter escaped her. She quickly covered her mouth with her hand, trying to stifle it, but the damage was done. Kian blinked in surprise before letting out a sheepish laugh himself, scratching the back of his head as he walked up to her.

“I’m sorry, it’s just…” he began, his face reddening slightly.

Eifa waved her hand, cutting him off. “Relax. I understand. Pehli baar maine suna toh mujhe bhi kafi ajeeb laga tha. Lekin chorho, Ehan ka manna hai bado ko baithe bithaye ulti seedhi baatein ati rehti hai, hum zyada na soche iss barey mein.” She shrugged nonchalantly, trying to keep the tone light.

(Relax. I understand. The first time I heard it, it felt weird too. But let it go. Ehan says elders often come up with random things. We shouldn’t overthink it.)

Kian let out a long sigh, relief evident on his face. He had been dreading this encounter, fearing it would be awkward, but Eifa’s easygoing demeanor had eased his worries.

“Shayad pehli baar Ehan ne sahi baat ki hai.” Kian said with a small grin.

(Maybe Ehan is right for the first time.)

Eifa narrowed her eyes at him, making him raised his hands in surrender and motioned for them to walk. Eifa followed him.

As they settled into the vehicle, Kian broke the comfortable silence. “Pata nahi mummy papa ko achanak se meri shadi ki itni fikar kyu hone lagi.” he confessed, his voice tinged with frustration.

(I don’t know why mummy and papa are suddenly so worried about my marriage.)

Eifa turned to him with a questioning look, prompting him to share the story about Ishmal.

Eifa listened carefully, her head tilting slightly in thought. “Mujhe lagta hai Azrin api ki wajah se woh tumhare liye bhi pareshaan rehne lage hain.” she said after a pause. “Chahte hain ki tum toh settle ho jao.”

(I think it’s because of Azrin Api. Her situation might be making them anxious about you too.)

(They just want you to settle down.)

Kian’s lips pressed into a thin line as he considered her words. A moment of silence passed before he spoke again. “Toh main mil loon Ishmal se?”

(So, should I meet Ishmal?)

Eifa shrugged, keeping her tone casual. “Aaj nahi toh kal shadi toh karoge hi, ek baar milne mein kya jata hai.”

(If not today, but you’ll eventually get married, right? What’s the harm in meeting her once?)

The tension from earlier melting away. Even if the situation was complicated, it seemed they could still find their way back to the easy friendship they’d always had.

•••

Later that day, chatter echoed through Azlan’s house as Kulsoom, Nomi, and Sharfa sat in the living room. Ehan burst in, his energy instantly filling the space.

“Kullu, Kullu!” he called, plopping down beside Kulsoom.

“What?” Kulsoom replied without looking up, annoyed at the nickname.

“Mera ek kaam karogi?” he asked sweetly.

(Will you do something for me?)

“Nahi,"

(No,)

“Bhai nahi ho? Mera matlab behen nahi ho?”

(Aren’t you my brother? I mean, my sister?)

“Nahi hoon,” Kulsoom shot back, refusing to entertain him.

(No, I’m not.)

Ehan scoffed. “Mujhe toh pehle se hi pata tha tumhe road se uthake leke aye hain tabhi tumhari shakal hum mein se kisi se nahi milti.” Then he shoved her aside before turning to Sharfa. Kulsoom just raised a hand at him in annoyance, but stopped, knowing she couldn’t hit him. “Momo, mera ek kaam karogi.”

(I always knew they picked you up from the roadside. That’s why you don’t look like any of us.)

(Momo, will you do me a favor?)

“Ji, Ehan bhai, hume sarey kaam atey hain. Apko agar height se kuch uthana ho hum woh bhi kar sakte hain. I can even climb a tree!” Sharfa said enthusiastically, proud to help and excited that someone was asking her for something.

(Yes, Ehan Bhai, I can do anything. If you need something from a height, I can get it.)

“Thanks, I’ll remember that.” Ehan replied, unsure what to do with this information. “Lekin filhal tumhe bas yeh karna hai bahar mera dost aya hai, ussey kaho main ghar pe nahi hoon.”

(But for now, just tell my friend outside that I’m not home.)

“But you are home,” Sharfa pointed out, gesturing at him.

“Yes, I am, lekin tum ussey...…” Ehan began to explain, but Sharfa interrupted him.

(Yes, I am, but you should...)

“Jhoot bole?” Her blue eyes widened in shock.

(...Lie?)

“Yes,” Ehan said sheepishly.

“Aap pehle aise bhai honge jo choti behno ko jhoot bolna seekhate hain.” Kulsoom commented, unable to hold back her remark.

(You might be the first brother teaching his younger sister to lie.)

“Sauteli behen, tum chup raho.” Ehan retorted.

(Stepsister, you stay quiet.)

Sharfa looked between the two in confusion before waving a hand in front of Ehan’s face. “Ehan bhai, hum jhoot nahi bolte.” she said with regret, her voice filled with disappointment and sadness.

(Ehan Bhai, I don’t lie.)

“Kya? Since when?” Ehan asked, utterly bewildered.

(What?)

“Always,” Sharfa said solemnly, clasping her hands as if giving a moral lesson. “Because agey jake truth samne aye toh beizzatti kharab hoti hai issey. That's why I never lie... well, I can hide facts.”

(Because if the truth comes out later, it ruins the embarrassment.)

“Beizzatti kaise kharab hoti hai?” Ehan’s eyes narrowed in confusion. "Aur jhoot bolne aur fact hide karne mein farq kya hai?"

(How does the embarrassment get ruin?)

(And what’s the difference between lying and hiding facts?)

“Well,” Sharfa began to explain patiently, as though speaking to a child, “Aap ghar pe nahi hain that's a lie, aur Kullu ne Nomi ke ramen bowl mein extra chillies add ki that's a fact I hide.”

(Saying you’re not home is a lie, but Kullu adding extra chilies to Nomi’s ramen is a fact I hide.)

Nomi froze, his chopsticks halfway to his mouth. His eyes darted to Kulsoom, who was suddenly very interested in her notepad. Slowly, as if bracing himself, he took another bite. A second later, his face flushed bright red, and tears sprang to his eyes.

“Kullu!” he choked, glaring at her.

Kulsoom held her hands up defensively. “It was just a pinch!”

Ehan sighed and handed Nomi a glass of water.

“Thanks for that, Momo,” Kulsoom muttered sarcastically, shooting Sharfa a glare.

“Anyways,” Ehan said, as he turned to Nomi. “Nomi, please, Arish ko kehdo main ghar pe nahi.”

(Nomi, please tell Arish I’m not home.)

Nomi wiped his mouth quickly and leaned back, a sly smile creeping onto his face. “Mujhe kya milega?”

(What’s in it for me?)

Before Ehan could respond, Sharfa cut in, horrified. “Nomi, jhoot kehna buri baat hai.”

(Nomi, lying is bad.)

Ehan threw his hands up, his exasperation palpable. "Tumhara zameer jaga hua hai achhi baat hai, iske wale ko soye rehne do." Ehan said irritably before turning back to Nomi.

(It’s nice your conscience is awake. Let his stay asleep.)

"Zameer kon hai?" Sharfa asked Kulsoom, genuinely concerned she might have forgotten someone important she had woken up.

(Who is this conscience?)

"Consciousness," Kulsoom explained flatly, giving her cousin a look that clearly read, Where does your mind wander?

Ehan, now thoroughly annoyed, ignored the sidetrack and turned back to Nomi. "Tum jo kahoge. Bas ussey kaho main ghar pe nahi, maama papa sheher mein nahi aur dada dadi..."

(Whatever you want. Just tell him I’m not home. Maama and papa aren’t in the city, and dada and dadi...)

"Duniya mein nahi?" Nomi guessed, his eyes wide with fake innocence.

(Aren’t in this world?)

"Astaghfirullah!" Ehan’s mutter was equal parts horror and exasperation. Sharfa gasped, while Kulsoom smacked Nomi’s head with her palm.

Ehan took a deep breath, visibly trying to calm himself. "Ussey kisi bade se na milne dena bas. Dada dadi, chote dada dadi... Ek toh humare ghar mein itne pehredaar kyu hain?"

(Don’t let him meet any elder. Dada dadi, chote dada... Why does our house have so many gatekeepers?)

"What?" Came Eifa’s voice from the doorway. She entered with a puzzled expression, catching the last bit of the conversation.

"Nothing," Ehan dismissed her, gesturing for Nomi to leave, who bolted out of the room.

Eifa turned to Kulsoom and Sharfa. Sharfa immediately buried her head in her ramen bowl, trying to hide the fact. But Kulsoom, never one to keep quiet, pointed toward Ehan. "Ehan bhai ka koi dost aya hai aur woh chahte hain Nomi kahe Ehan bhai ghar pe nahi."

(Ehan Bhai’s friend is here, and he wants Nomi to say he’s not home.)

"Arish aya hai?" Eifa’s hazel eyes narrowed, the hint of disappointment clear in her voice.

(Is Arish here?)

Ehan, however, didn’t bat an eye. "Ab tum ussey mat milna." he said firmly, glaring at her as if issuing a royal decree.

(You don’t go to meet him now.)

"Bohot galat baat hai, Ehan," Eifa said, her disapproval calm but cutting.

(This is so wrong, Ehan.)

"Irish? Yeh kaisa strange name hua?" Sharfa piped up, suddenly intrigued. "Waise itna bhi strange nahi, humari enemy ka name Georgia hai. Pata hai ek baar unhone humse kaha ki your hair smells like curry, toh ussi din humne unke bag mein..."

(Irish? What kind of name is that?)

(Not as strange as you think. My enemy’s name is Georgia. Once, she told me, 'Your hair smells like curry.' So that day, I put...)

"Momo, not now," Kulsoom muttered, shaking her head.

"Isko itni derr kyu lag rahi hai? Momo, zara check karna agar issey tumhari beizzatti kharab na ho," Ehan said, ignoring Eifa.

(Why is it taking so long? Momo, check if your embarrassment isn’t being ruined.)

"Issey nahi hoti." Sharfa replied thoughtfully, munching on her ramen. "Lekin agar Irish ne humse pucha aap ghar pe hain toh hum..."

(It’s not.)

(But if Irish asks me if you’re home, then I’ll...)

"I’ll check myself," Ehan interrupted, getting up. "Waise tum log ko bade bhai se baat karne ki tameez nahi,"

(You guys don’t know how to talk to your elder brother.)

"Lekin Kian bhai toh yaha nahi," Kulsoom pointed out.

(But Kian Bhai isn’t here.)

"Shahnan bhai bhi nahi hain," Sharfa added helpfully.

(Neither is Shahnan Bhai.)

"Tum bade banke dikhao pehle," Eifa remarked pointedly.

(You should behave like an elder first.)

Before Ehan could step outside, Nomi came rushing back in. "Sorry, woh Zeenat api bhi agayi thi toh..." Gasping for air, Nomi started said, telling them about the maid who received Arish first.

(Sorry, Zeenat Api also came, so...)

"Kya hua? Shuru se batao," Ehan asked, trying to mask his anxiety.

(What happened? Start from the beginning.)

"Shuru se yeh hua ki pehle maine salam kiya, phir unhone jawab diya, phir maine pucha woh kuch peene ke liye lau, toh unhone kaha nahi pehle Ehan se hisab barabar karlu phir juice leke ana, toh maine kaha kiska juice, kyuki banana parhega na...."

(From the beginning, I greeted Arish bhai, then he replied, then I asked if I should bring something to drink, and he said no, first he needs to settle things with you, then bring the juice. So I asked, 'which flavour? Because it’ll need to be made first...')

"Nomi, Momo wali harkat mat karo bohot irritating hai," Ehan snapped, trying to control his temper.

(Nomi, stop acting like Momo. It's really irritating.)

"Hey, that’s mean," Sharfa protested indignantly, only to be ignored by everyone except Eifa, who patted her shoulder in consolation.

Unfazed, Nomi continued, "Maine kaha aap kisi meeting ke liye bahar gaye hain, chachu aur choti mummy Hamna nani ke yaha gaye hain Kullu aur Eifa ke sath, aur bade dada dadi bhi nahi..." He paused, then grinned. "Mujhe apka woh brown wala shoes chahiye."

(I told them you’re out for a meeting, Chachu and Choti Mummy went to Hamna Nani's house with Kullu and Eifa, and even dada dadi aren’t here...)

(I need your brown shoes.)

Ehan blinked. "Woh jo maine last week liye tha?"

(The ones I bought last week?)

Nomi nodded, his face lighting up with the anticipation of a successful negotiation.

Ehan’s eyes swept over Nomi’s hopeful expression, and his lips curled into a scoff. "Shakal dekhi hai?" he asked bluntly, deflating Nomi’s excitement in an instant.

(Have you looked at yourself?)

"You promised! Yeh dono gawah hain." Nomi protested, pointing dramatically at Kulsoom and Sharfa.

(You promised! These two are witnesses.)

"Jao court chale jao," Ehan replied smugly, slumping onto the sofa as if the matter were settled.

(Go to court, then.)

"Oh, Nomi honey," Sharfa cooed, leaning forward. "Agli baar, negotiate first. Aur in case uss waqt aap nahi decide nahi kar pa rahe apko kya chahiye, toh information ko pass on na kare. Pehle ap woh cheez lein jo apko chahiye, tab information diya karein because you have the uppar hand. Abhi agar aap unhe na batate aur pehle shoes ka kehte toh Ehan bhai shoes polish karke dete apko."

(Next time, negotiate first. And in case you’re unsure about what you want at that moment, don’t pass on information. First, take what you need, then share the info because you’ll have the upper hand. If you hadn’t told them and first asked for the shoes, Ehan Bhai would’ve polished them for you.)

"Wow, Momo is finally making sense," Ehan joked, but no one laughed.

"I still have the upper hand." Nomi’s defiance returned as he straightened. "Main chachu ko bata dunga apne mujhe jhoot bolne ke liye kaha."

(I’ll tell Chachu you asked me to lie.)

"Haan haan theek hai," Ehan said, waving him off.

(Yeah, yeah, fine.)

"Main choti mummy ko bata dunga,"

(I’ll tell Choti Mummy.)

"Kya batana hai?" Shyra's voice interrupted as she entered the room, her confused gaze flickering between everyone present.

(Tell me what?)

Ehan stiffened as though he’d been caught doing something wrong, while Nomi’s grin only grew wider.

“Maama, aap yaha kya kar rahi hain?” Ehan asked hastily, attempting to steer the conversation elsewhere.

(Maama, what are you doing here?)

“Kyu main yaha nahi asakti?” Shyra shot back, giving her son a suspicious look. “Aur yeh tum log har waqt yaha kyu rehte ho?”

(Why? Can’t I come here?)

(And why do you all stay here all the time?)

Whenever the cousins needed a place to hide out after some mischief, Azlan’s house was their safe haven. Rubab never scolded them, unlike Shyra, who wouldn’t hesitate to kick them out if they make too much noise, or Rukhsar, whose stern presence alone kept them quiet. Rubab’s leniency made her home their go-to spot. Even in the middle of the night, they’d sneak into the kitchen, concocting strange experiments that left the place a mess. But all Rubab would say was, “Inhi se toh ghar mein rounak hai.” Naturally, they took full advantage of her kindness.

(They’re the ones who bring life to the house.)

“Nomi, kya kehna tha tumhe?” Shyra asked, turning her focus to him, convinced that Ehan was up to no good again.

(Nomi, what did you want to say?)

"Choti mummy..." Nomi began, his voice gleeful with the potential for chaos.

Before he could finish, Ehan clamped a hand on Nomi's shoulder. "Kuch nahi bas issey mera shoes chahiye tha. Nomi beta, jao mere room se le lo."

(Nothing, he just wanted my shoes. Nomi, go take them from my room.)

"Nahi, mujhe yeh nahi kehna tha..." Nomi squirmed out of Ehan’s grip.

(No, that’s not what I wanted to say...)

"Tum black jacket bhi le sakte ho," Ehan bargained desperately. "Tumhe jo chahiye le lo. Bas jao,"

(You can take the black jacket too.)

(Take whatever you need. Just go.)

Shyra’s brow furrowed as she watched the back-and-forth, her confusion deepening.

"Mujhe badla chahiye," Nomi declared, shrugging off Ehan’s hand.

(I want revenge.)

"Arish bhai aye the, aur inhone mujhse kaha unhe kahu..." Settling beside Shyra, Nomi pointed an accusing finger at Ehan, recounting the entire incident. "Yeh ghar pe nahi, aap aur chachu sheher mein nahi, aur bade dada dadi Duniya mein nahi."

(Arish Bhai came and told me to say...)

(He’s not home. You and Chachu are out of town, and dada dadi aren’t in this world anymore.)

Shyra gasped audibly, just as Sharfa had when she first heard it.

"What? Ehan?" Shyra turned to her son, her disbelief evident.

"Jhoot bol raha hai yeh. Main akhiri wali baat nahi kahi thi." Ehan jumped to his defense, his tone laced with indignation.

(He’s lying. I didn’t say that last part.)

"Aur baki ke do jhoot?" Shyra’s glare intensified.

(And the other two lies?)

"Maama, woh bas..."

(Maama, it’s just that...)

"Sach sach batana tum, Ehan." Shyra interrupted him, knowing very well he'll cook some lie.

(Tell me the truth, Ehan.)

"Main batati hoon sach," Eifa, who had been silently observing the drama, finally stepped in. "Hasan ke dada ka memorial tha, aur Hasan ne Arish aur Ehan ko bulaya tha. Ehan khud toh chala gaya, lekin Arish ko ek hafte baad ki date bataya aur kaha Hasan ki engagement hai."

(I’ll tell the truth.)

(Hasan’s grandfather’s memorial was happening, and Hasan invited Arish and Ehan. Ehan went, but he gave Arish a date a week later, saying it was Hasan’s engagement.)

All eyes turned to Ehan, who now stared at the floor. Yet, there wasn’t a shred of remorse on his face.

"Arish achhe se taiyyar hoke, Hasan ke liye gift leke, aur dosti ka haq ada karte hue band book karke Hasan ke ghar gaya," Eifa concluded, leaving the entire room in stunned silence as their gazes bore into Ehan. "Ek kawara phir gaya mara isn't the best song to play at someone's memorial,"

(Arish got ready nicely, bought a gift for Hasan, fulfilled his duties of friendship, and booked a band, only to go to Hasan’s house...)

('Ek Kawara Phir Gaya Mara' isn’t the best song to play at someone’s memorial.)

Everyone was too stunned to speak until, "See, aise beizzatti kharab hoti hai. And that’s why you shouldn’t lie," Sharfa chimed in with a smug grin, offering Ehan the answer to the question he’d once posed.

(See, this is how embarrassment is ruined.)

"Ehan? Tum..." Shyra stammered momentarily at a loss for words.

(Ehan? You...)

"Mere samajh nahi ata tum gaye kispe ho. Tumhare papa ne toh kabhi kisiko dhoka nahi diya, kabhi jhoot nahi bola. Tum kaha se seekh rahe ho yeh sab?"

(I don’t understand what you’ve become. Your father never cheated anyone, never lied. Where are you learning all this?)

"Kahi se toh mila hoga mujhe yeh sab. Kya pata dada aise rahe ho jawani mein, ya par dada..." Ehan suggested with a careless shrug.

(I must’ve inherited it from somewhere. Maybe Grandpa was like this in his youth, or Great-Grandpa...)

"Ek hi shaks itna khurafati tha pure khandan mein Hanan." Shyra snapped, her irritation growing.

(Only one person in the entire family was this mischievous—Hanan.)

"Aur Hanan ki daughter yahi hain," Sharfa interjected offensively, gesturing to herself. Her presence, however, went largely unnoticed by Shyra. 

(And Hanan’s daughter is right here.)

"Lekin unke sath tum kitna kam arsa rahe ho, tumhare bachpan mein hi woh abroad settle ho gaye aur lekin tum pura Hanan pe gaye ho. Kya hota agar tum apne papa ki achhi adatein seekhte?"

(But you spent so little time with him; he settled abroad during your childhood. Yet, you’re exactly like him. What would’ve happened if you’d inherited your father’s good traits?)

"Maama, isme meri kya galti hai? Papa kitne boring hain. Hanan uncle is cool."

(Maama, how is that my fault? Papa is so boring. Hanan Uncle is cool.)

"Yeah, he is," Sharfa agreed with an enthusiastic nod. Even Kulsoom gave a reluctant smile in agreement.

"Haan, chachu kafi gussa karte hain, but Hanan uncle hamesha... mujhe nani ne bulaya tha." Nomi was saying, but sensing Shyra’s growing ire, he blurted the excuse and bolted from the room.

(Chachu gets angry very easily, but Hanan Uncle always... Nani called me.)

"Mujhe bhi shayad nani ne bulaya tha. Soch raha hoon gaov ho aau," Ehan quickly added, following Nomi’s lead to escape.

(I think Nani called me too. I’m thinking of visiting the village.)

"Iss larke ka kya hoga? Yeh age hai yeh sab pranks karne ki?" Shyra sighed, exasperated. "Bechara Arish kitna embarrassed feel kar raha hoga, aur Hasan ki family, pata nahi kya soch rahe honge."

(What will become of this boy? Is this the age for playing pranks?)

(Poor Arish must be so embarrassed, and who knows what Hasan’s family is thinking.)

"It's okay, choti mummy, Ehan bhai abhi young hain. Bade honge toh khud hi samajhdari ajayegi, humari tarah." Sharfa reassured her with an air of authority. But as she noticed the skeptical stares directed her way, she added with a shrug, "Dad mom ko yahi kehte hain humare liye, aur phir mom kehti hain apki aulad se umeed toh nahi..."

(It’s okay, Choti Mummy. Ehan Bhai is still young. He’ll understand once he grows up, like us.)

(That’s what Dad tells Mom about me, and then Mom says she doesn’t have any expectations from his children...)

"Yeh batao mami kaha hain?" Shyra asked, cutting through Sharfa’s endless chatter. She had long given up trying to make sense of half the things Sharfa said.

(Tell me where is mami?)

"Nani ghar pe nahi hain." Sharfa replied. "Baba ke sath kahi gayi hain, hume lagta hai shayad date pe gaye hain. Iss liye hume batake nahi gaye." She added this confidentially, as though sharing a great secret, earning sharp looks from everyone around.

(Nani isn’t home.)

(She went somewhere with Baba; I think they’re probably on a date, which is why they didn’t tell me.)

"Baba ke kisi dost ke ghar gaye hain woh dono," Kulsoom corrected, providing the actual information. Shyra simply nodded and left.

(They went to a friend’s house.)

"Aur Shahnan?" Eifa asked suddenly, her voice a little higher-pitched than she intended. Her palms grew clammy as the memory of his actions from yesterday rushed back. She clenched her fists, willing herself to stay composed.

(And Shahnan?)

Sharfa didn’t notice her cousin’s nervousness. "Bhai baba ki study mein hain," she said breezily. "Although, I wouldn’t disturb him if I were you. Pata nahi kyu lekin kal se unka mood kafi off hai. Aaj Sam se milne gaye tab bhi theek nahi hua." Carelessly, Sharfa shrugged her shoulder. Her movements were casual, but Eifa didn’t miss the faint pink that tinged Sharfa’s cheeks.

(Although, if I were you, I wouldn’t disturb him. For some reason, he’s been in a bad mood since yesterday. Even meeting Sam didn’t help.)

"Sam? Woh toh Issam bhai se milne gaye the." Kulsoom interjected, clarifying the confusion.

(Sam? He went to meet Issam Bhai.)

"Wahi toh Sam hain." Sharfa replied matter-of-factly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

(That’s Sam.)

"Yeh tum log ko sabke naam kharab karke kya milta hai?" Kulsoom asked, looking both confused and irritated. "Aliyar ka Al kar diya, Issam ka Sam... itne achhe khase naam hain, kharab kyu kar rahe ho?"

(Why do you people ruin everyone’s names?)

(Aliyar becomes Al, Issam becomes Sam... such good names, and you ruin them.)

Eifa tried to smile at their bickering but found her nerves tugging her toward the study. Leaving the two behind, she made her way out, hoping her trembling hands wouldn’t betray her growing unease.

"I’m not the one ruining their names. Al ne khud Aliyar se Al kiya aur Issam ko sab Sam bulate hain kyuki no one can pronounce his name. Bhai ka name bhi koi pronounce nahi kar pata. Once, a girl called him Shawn..."

(I’m not the one ruining their names. Al himself shortened Aliyar to Al, and everyone calls Issam ‘Sam’ because no one could pronounce his name. Even Bhai’s name is hard to pronounce. Once, a girl called him Shawn...)

Behind her, Sharfa and Kulsoom continued their argument, the sound of their voices fading as Eifa’s focus shifted entirely to the conversation she needed to have with Shahnan.

•••

The door to the study was slightly ajar, and Shahnan sat casually in the revolving chair, one leg crossed over the other, a book in hand. His back was to the door, his focus on the pages in front of him.

Eifa hesitated, her hand lingering on the doorframe. Forcing herself to calm down, she knocked lightly.

The sound drew his attention, and he turned his chair slowly to face her. Eifa felt as if his eyes sparkled.

“Busy ho?” she asked, her voice softer than she intended. She hated how unsure she sounded.

(Are you busy?)

“Apke liye kabhi nahi.” he replied smoothly, shutting the book with a practised ease and placing it on the table. Eifa averted her gaze, walking over to the sofa near the window. Shahnan leaned back in his chair, his eyes never leaving her as she fidgeted with her fingers.

(Never for you.)

"Eifa, apko kuch kehna tha?" Shahnan broke the silence, resting his chin on his hand as he leaned against the armrest. His intense gaze made her throat tighten. "Waise nahi bhi kehna kuch toh I don't mind, main aise kafi derr tak baith sakta hoon."

(Eifa, did you want to say something?)

(Honestly, even if you didn’t, I don’t mind. I can sit here for a while.)

Eifa’s cheeks burned, and she looked away, struggling to find her voice.

“Dekho, Shahnan...” she said, trying to sound firm.

(Look, Shahnan...)

“Aap hi ko dekh raha hoon.” he said with a smirk.

(I’m already looking at you.)

She exhaled sharply, gripping her hands tighter to steady herself. "Meri baat suno,"

(Listen to me.)

“Sunaiye,” he drawled, leaning forward with an amused expression.

(Go ahead.)

"Main janti hoon ki.." she started, ignoring his bold gaze and flirtatious remarks. “Tum jis age mein ho, normal hai kisi pe crush ana..." Shahnan parted his lips to interrupt but then decided to let her finish.

(I know that...)

(At your age, it’s normal to have a crush on someone...)

"Abhi tumne life ko shayad theek se experience nahi kiya. Tum aur logo se miloge, dosti hogi toh I'm sure tumhe khud lagega yeh kitni bachkani baatein thi...”

(Maybe you haven’t truly experienced life yet. As you meet more people and make friends, you’ll realize how childish all this was...)

This time, Shahnan had to interrupt, as he chuckled darkly. “Eifa, apko kya lagta hai main kisi aisi jagah rehta hoon jaha sirf boys hain, main kabhi kisi larki se mila nahi aur aap pehli larki thi jissey dekha aur mohabbat kar baitha? That I’m some naive kid who doesn’t know what love is?” He stood, his towering presence making her feel cornered.

(Eifa, do you think I live in a place where there are no girls? That I’ve never met anyone, and you’re the first girl I saw and fallen for?)

Shahnan sat down on the carpet by her feet, making her instinctively pull her legs up.

“Main yaha se kafi zyada azad mohol mein rehta hoon jaha larke larki ka betaqalluf hona bura nahi mana jata, jaha larkiyan samne se akey propose karti hain. School se hi mujhe kafi opportunities mili hain lekin maine sabko reject kiya because none of them were you. This isn’t some stupid crush; it’s love.” His voice was steady, calm, and far too convincing. Eifa stared at him, her lips parting slightly in shock.

(I’ve lived in a much freer environment, where casual interaction between boys and girls isn’t frowned upon. Girls have approached me since school, even proposed to me, but I’ve rejected them all because none of them were you.)

“Main tumhe kaise samjhau Tum jo baat kar rahe ho bohot galat.”

(How do I explain it to you...)

(What you’re saying is so wrong.)

“Mujhe wakai nahi samajh araha isme galat hai kya? Ek reason dein mujhe.” His question was sharp, cutting through her hesitation.

(I honestly don’t see what’s wrong with it. Give me one reason.)

“Main tumse 4 saal badi hoon,” she blurted, eyes widened and her voice rising.

(I’m four years older than you.)

“Aap kab aur kaise samjhengi ki mohabbat ka age se kuch lena dena nahi hota.” he sighed. “Aur aap apne 4 saal bade hone pe itna insecure kyu hain? Mujhe dekhein, mujhe toh bilkul farq nahi parhta main apse 4 saal chota hoon.”

(When will you understand that love has nothing to do with age?)

(And why are you so insecure about being four years older? Look at me; I don’t mind being four years younger than you.)

"Mohabbat aur shadi mein zehni compatibility honi chahiye na ki yeh ki larki larke se choti hi ho." Eifa’s hands trembled. She could see now that the boy she’d once dismissed wasn’t a boy anymore. He’d grown into a man—one who wouldn’t back down easily.

(Love and marriage require mental compatibility, not whether the girl is younger than the boy.)

“Jaisa tum soch rahe ho woh impossible hai.”

(What you’re thinking is impossible.)

“Kyu?” He pressed stubbornly.

(Why?)

“Tum aqal se kaam kyu nahi lete,” She snapped, standing abruptly. Her voice trembled as she tried to steady her breathing.

(Why don’t you use some sense?)

Shahnan stood too, towering over her. “Dil ke mamle mein aqal ka kya kaam?” His voice was low, but every word hit her like a challenge.

(What place does sense have in matters of the heart?)

Her anger flared, but so did her fear. “Tumhe farq nahi parhta hoga age gap se lekin mujhe parhta hai. Mujhse 4 saal chota larka jissey main apne bhai jaisa manti hoon ussey shadi ka sochne se bhi behtar hai main doob ke marr jau.” Tears welled in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.

(You may not care about the age gap, but I do. The idea of marrying someone four years younger than me, someone I consider like a brother, is worse than drowning myself.)

“Theek hai aap doob jaiye, main bohot achha swimmer hoon. Aur dubara mujhe bhai mat kahiyega.” he replied calmly, his words making her turn to glare at him. But when he saw the tears in her eyes, he froze.

(Fine, go ahead and drown. I’m an excellent swimmer. And don’t you dare call me your brother again.)

“Eifa…” He took a step toward her, but she stepped back.

“Shahnan, agar tumhari yeh baatein kisi ne sunn li toh sab mera mazak baneyenge. Please, tum mera tamasha mat banao. Tumhe toh koi bhi achhi larki mil jayegi."

(Shahnan, if anyone hears your nonsense, they’ll make fun of me. Please, don’t make me a laughingstock. You can find a good girl anywhere. You can find a good girl.)

Shahnan’s expression hardened. He crouched to her eye level, his tone dangerously soft. “Apko sabki fikar hai siwaye mere. Lekin mujhe farq nahi parhta sabse. Sab kya sochenge, kya kahenge mujhe inn sab farq nahi parhta. Mujhe sirf apse farq parhta hai. Mujhe sirf apse shadi karni hai aur main karunga bhi.”

(You care about everyone except me. But I don’t care about anyone else. I don’t care what people think or say. The only thing that matters to me is you. I want to marry you, and I will.)

His warning ignited a fire in her.

“Tumhe meri bhi fikar nahi hai, tumhe sirf aur sirf apni fikar hai. Warna tum meri baat sunte aur samajhte.” She said bitterly.

(You don’t care about me either. You only care about yourself. Otherwise, you’d listen to me and understand.)

“Kya karu, mohabbat khudgarz bana deti hai.” He shrugged nonchalantly.

(What can I do? Love makes a person selfish.)

“Pata nahi maine kyu tumse baat karne ka socha bhi...” Unable to bear staying any longer, Eifa turned to leave, her heart racing.

(I don’t even know why I thought of talking to you...)

“Main dad se humare liye baat karunga.” Shahnan called out, stopping her in her tracks.

(I’ll talk to Dad about us.)

Whipping around, her voice shook with both anger and desperation. “Khabardar, tum aisi koi bakwas nahi karoge Hanan uncle se.”

(Don’t you dare say such nonsense to Hanan Uncle.)

He smiled, stepping closer. “Main wahi karunga jo mera dil kahega.”

(I’ll do whatever my heart tells me to.)

Her resolve wavered under the weight of his confidence. She stormed out of the study, her heart pounding, knowing this wasn’t the end. Shahnan always got what he wanted—and now, he wanted her.

•••

In the evening, Ehan returned home after wandering aimlessly, the events of the afternoon already forgotten. But as soon as he stepped inside, his gaze landed on Kabir, and his steps faltered.

Kabir was seated in the lounge, his stern eyes fixed on Ehan, his lips pressed into a thin line. Beside him sat Shyra, her expression mirroring Kabir’s disapproval.

In that instant, the weight of Ehan’s actions came crashing back—the recklessness he had so conveniently “forgotten.”

"Yeh Maama bhi na, apne husband se kuch nahi chupati," he thought bitterly, reluctantly making his way inside.

(Maama, I swear, doesn’t hide anything from her husband.)

“Assalam-Alaikum,” he greeted cautiously, sensing the storm brewing in Kabir’s sharp gaze.

“Walekum-Assalam,” Kabir replied, his tone carrying an edge that sent a spike of nerves through Ehan.

“Main... fresh hoke ata hoon,” Ehan began, attempting a quick escape.

(I’ll… go freshen up.)

“Ruko, pehle tum mujhe yeh batao tumhari age kya hai?” Kabir interrupted, his voice cutting through the air like a knife.

(Wait, first tell me your age.)

Ehan hesitated, caught off guard. “Jitni Eifa ki hogi shayad?”

(Probably the same as Eifa’s?)

“Woh toh 24 ki hai, tum apna batao, 24 ke toh nahi lagte.” Kabir retorted.

(She’s 24. What about you? You don’t behave 24.)

“Phir mujhe nahi pata,” Ehan mumbled, scratching the back of his neck. “Mera toh birth certificate bhi apke paas hai...”

(Then I don’t know.)

(You have my birth certificate…)

Kabir’s glare silenced him mid-sentence, and Ehan straightened up like a guilty child.

“Kya tumhe pata hai ek 24 saal ke larke ko kaise behave karna chahiye?” Kabir continued, his sharp tone unwavering,

(Do you know how a 24-year-old is supposed to behave?)

“Papa, maine aisi koi research toh nahi ki hai.” Ehan muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

(Papa, I haven’t done that kind of research.)

“Toh apne aas paas hi nazar ghuma lo,” Kabir shot back. “Kian bhi hai, tumse kuch mahine chota hai lekin samajhdari mein tumse agey hi hai. Kian hi kya, balki Shahnan ki abhi umr kya hai aur kitna responsible hai woh.”

(Then just look around you.)

(Kian is a few months younger than you but far more mature. Not just him, even Shahnan—he’s younger than you but so responsible.)

Ehan shifted uncomfortably, sneaking a glance at Shyra, who remained silent but equally stern.

“Aur ek tum ho,” Kabir continued mercilessly. “Tumhe toh har waqt idhar udhar ki masti, jhoot bolna, aur kisi ka nuksan karana hota hai.”

(And then there’s you.)

(You’re always fooling around, lying, or causing trouble.)

“Kitne 24 saal ke larke job karke apni family ko support karte hain, aur tumse toh main umeed hi nahi laga sakta ki koi kaam dhang se karlo.”

(Plenty of 24-year-olds work jobs to support their families, and here I can’t even expect you to do one thing properly.)

This was unfair, Ehan thought. Only yesterday, Kaif had praised his business acumen. But, of course, his father wasn’t one to acknowledge his achievements.

“Ehan, when will you grow up?” Kabir’s voice dropped, now tinged with disappointment. “Mujhe toh kabhi kabhi lagta hai tumne business mein graduation nahi, balki dheetpane mein masters kiya hai.”

(Sometimes I feel like you didn’t graduate in business but mastered stubbornness.)

“Maine wakai business parha hai,” Ehan retorted, defiance flickering in his tone. “Aap meri degree dekh sakte hain,”

(I did study business.)

(You can check my degree.)

“I'm warning you, Ehan, agar ab mujhe tumhari koi shikayat sunne ko mili toh achha nahi hoga.” Kabir said, ignoring the remark.

(I’m warning you, Ehan. If I hear one more complaint about you, it won’t be good.)

With that, Kabir stood and walked out, Shyra following close behind. Ehan sighed heavily, collapsing onto the sofa.

“Bahar ajao, Kullu,” he called out.

(Come out, Kullu.)

Kulsoom emerged from behind the wall, unfazed by being caught eavesdropping. “Aaj toh Papa kaafi gusse mein the,” she commented, settling beside him.

(Papa seemed pretty angry today.)

“Naya kya hai,” Ehan muttered, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “Office mein toh issey bhi zyada roub dikhate hain jaisi main unki sagi aulad nahi hoon.”

(What’s new?)

(At the office, he’s even stricter, as if I’m not his biological son.)

“Mujhe toh kabhi kabhi lagta hai khamakha graduation ke baad office join kar liya.” he added dramatically, leaning back with a sigh, “Post graduation karna chahiye tha kam se kam 2 3 saal free rehta.”

(Sometimes I think I shouldn’t have joined the office right after graduation.)

(I should’ve done post-graduation. At least I'd have been free for 2–3 years.)

Kulsoom smirked. “Aap konsa roz office jate hain, ek din jate hain phir hafto chutti karte hain.”

(You don’t go to the office regularly anyway. One day there, then weeks off.)

Ehan narrowed his eyes at her. “Eifa kaha hai?” he asked, eager to change the topic. After all, only Eifa might sympathize with him.

(Where’s Eifa?)

“Apne kamre mein, unka bp low hai.” Kulsoom replied.

(In her room. Her blood pressure is low.)

“Kaise?” Ehan frowned, concern flickering across his face.

(How?)

“Pata nahi, achanak hi tabiyat kharab ho gayi. Halaki maine kaha Momo ke sath kuch derr baith jao woh kisi ka bhi bp high kar sakti hai apni baaton se but meri sunni kisko hai.” Kulsoom shrugged.

(I don’t know, she suddenly felt unwell. I even suggested that she sit with Momo for a while. Her chatter can raise anyone’s blood pressure. But who listens to me?)

Ehan chuckled, standing up. “Chalo, dekhte hain Eifa ab kaisi hai.”

(Let’s go see how Eifa is doing now.)

The siblings made their way to Eifa’s room, Ehan’s hand resting lightly on Kulsoom’s shoulder. “Batao bhala, humare ghar ki doctor aise beemar hoti rahegi toh patient ka ilaj kon karega.” He wondered. Despite the scolding he had just endured, Ehan’s demeanor remained lighthearted.

(Honestly, if the doctor in our family keeps falling sick, who will treat the patients?)

Kabir's scolding barely affected Ehan anymore; it was a daily occurrence. Ehan believed that Kabir was a different person for Eifa and Kulsoom than he was for him. Kabir had never scolded them for any mistakes, but Ehan, on the other hand, seemed to bear the brunt of his father's temper. He's a son, after all.

•••

I think Kaif is probably the only one right now who isn’t stressed out by his son 🙊 baki 3 toh khair...😒

Shahnan is just Hanan’s karmo ka phal, but poor Kabir🥺 What did he even do to deserve a son like Ehan? 😭 bechara humara Devdas.

Khair, how’s the update?

-Ufaq