S T A R I N G at Rizwan, Hoor felt ashamed. Here was this man, standing tall and proud. He was the epitome of perfection. From his styled hair to the tied up laces on his shiny shoes. Nothing seemed out of place. Then there was her, a literal mess. In her heart, Hoor felt upset over the fact that she could not even talk to him.

"Hoor aap bhi tou kuch kahein," Rizwan smiled at her, trying to make her comfortable.
"Mein-- mein kia kahun? Meray pass tou kehnay ko kuch nahi hai," Hoor brushed the topic off.
She was not disinterested, she just had a feeling of inferiority.
"Are aap bhi tou eik insaan hain. Aap ki bhi koi masroofiyat aur shouq hon gai," Rizwan chuckled.

"Ji mein ghar keh kaamon sai farigh ho kar, mohallay walun keh kapray siti hun," she blushed, continuing "aap ki tarah koi baray sai daftar mein nahi karti," laughing at her own statement.
Rizwan was left mesmerised. Her laugh was like a breath of fresh air. It was light and free of any inhibition. He in his entire life had never seen someone live a carefree life.

"Acha tou yeh baatein keh aap ka school mein favourite subject konsa tha," Rizwan asked a harmless question.
"Woh mein kabhi school nahin gai". Hoor spoke curtly.
Rizwan ended the topic and moved on to ask about her favourite foods. Sensing her hesitance when he mentioned education. It also helped him understand why the girl did not understand him speaking in english.

After a few more minutes of mindless chatter, Ali called them. Shouting from across the roof.
"Chalay aajain khana lag gaya hai," he led Rizwan downstairs, with Hoor following the two.
Down the stairs, Jahan-ara's loud voice could be heard. She was laughing loudly as she guided their other guest to their wooden dinning table.

As soon as she set her eyesight on her daughter and future son in law, her eyes teared up.
"MashAllah dono bachay akathay kitnay achay lagta hain," she took their balai from afar.
Praying that this happiness be permanent in her daughter's life.
"Baat tou theek ki hai baaji aap nai," a misty eyed Rehman spoke.
His son had a smile on his face and ever since his wife had passed away, he had not been as happy as he was today.
"Ajao bacho jaldi sai. Khana thanda na ho jaye". Jahan-ara waved at them.

Seating Rizwan down, she placed a plate infront of him, spooning in some heavenly karahi that oozed with oil and spices, Jahan-ara threw some sliced ginger on top of it. Adding raita in a separate small bowl, she took out a warm, steaming naan gesturing to the plate.
"Chalo meray bachay. Aram sai khana. Pait bhar kar. Samjhay?" Jahan-ara patted his back.
"Ji aunty," Rizwan smiled.

Jahan-ara stumbled to the other side of the table, sitting next to Hoor. Whose plate was relatively empty.
"Arey Hoor tu bhi tou kuch kha na!" She slapped her hands.
"Ji ammi kha rahi hun," she ducked her head down.
The fact that her mother had spoken so loudly, made her feel second hand embarrassment for her own self. She was feeling shy eating in front of others, but her dearest mother, true to her pure Pakistani roots just loved to put her in awkward situations.

"Aaj kal de bachay tai kasme kuj wi nai khanday," Jahan-ara spoke, frustrated with the "new generation" that her kids were a part of.
And just like any Punjabi woman, she liked to shout at her children in the language. Claiming that "maza Punjabi mein dantnay ka hai!"
"Bilkul theek. Yeh Rizwan bhi bas wohi ghaas phoss khata rehta hai. Arrey bhai hum to desi ghee mein tala huway parathay khanay keh shouqin hain. Yeh diet aur cheat meal hum nahi kar sakte!" Rehman too spoke about his dilemma.
The "ghaas phoos" he referred to was actually salads. He like most Pakistani parents could not fathom why kids would leave the delicacies and opt for something that was not filling at all.

The rest of the evening, the two families chatted with each other. Enjoying each others companies. They felt as if marrying their offsprings would be the best decision that they could make for themselves. Jamal and Rehman hugged each other at the small gate of Jamal's house.
"Jamal agli baar shaadi ki date lenay aun ga". He slapped his friends back, pulling him in a hug.
"Hum bhi aap keh muntazir hain!" Jamal  smiled, and then moved to hug Rizwan.
"Umeed hai aap ko Hoor pasand aai ho gi," making the situation awkward for him.
"Haha -- jee uncle," smiling, he turned to their car.

Unlocking the car door, he helped his father sit in. After finally giving the last of their waves, he drove the car away. On their way back, Rizwan was constantly thinking of what to do. His father waz absolutely in love with Hoor and had even decided on getting the marriage dates in a week or two. Rizwan did not have much time to explain the situation he was in.

"Hoor nari piyaari hai. Tumharay saath achi lagti hai aur tum dono hamesha khush raho gai!" Rehman chuckled.
On seeing him so ecstatic,  Rizwan remained silent. He wanted to tell him at that very moment what he wanted. However, he also did not want to destroy his father's happiness.

K A M A L M A N S I O N, DHA, LHR
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Mustafa sat inside his study. Rotating the paper weight in his hands. Deep in thought, he pondered on the reality of life. Questioning the reality that was his life. Last night, he had heard his uncle talking to his wife about Rumaisa's marriage. Which came to him as no surprise. Considering she was of age to get married.

All around, happiness was blooming. All the people his age and younger were finding happiness. Be it through marriage, parenthood or travelling. Everyone he met was content in their own lives. And yet, here he was, sitting in a metal wheel chair, wondering when would he find his own "content" and if he would find it at all.

"Mustafa, farigh ho?" His chachu Abdul Rehman knocked on the office door.
"Ji chachu aain," he sat up staright in his seat.
"Mujhe tumse kuch baat karni thi beta," he smiled at him.
"Ji bolein," he was a bit surprised to see him there.
"Beta hum Rumaisa keh liye larkay dekh rahain hai. Par hum chahtay hain pehlay tum shaadi kar lo. We know about your feelings for her so we want you to get married". His tone held no room for leniency.

Unfortunately,  Mustafa was a grown up. He knew when he was being manipulated and when not.
"Uncle aap uski shaadi ki tiyaari karein. Mujhe jab karni ho gi, mein kar lun ga!" He spoke all his words with a tone of finality.
Making it clear that he was no longer the child they could bully into submission.
"Kia matlab betay tum meray liye-"
"Mein aap keh kiye sonay ki murghi hun. Tang aagaya hun. Sab dikhta hai mujhe. Aap chachi ko bhi bata dein. Meri shaadi keh baray mein koi eik lafz nahi bolay ga," Mustafa made his stance on the situation clearly.

Just then there was a knock on the door. The taps were synchronised, making it clear that it was Rizwan behind the door.
"Aao Rizwan. Chachu aap ja saktay hain," Mustafa smiled at his uncle.
Mustafa knew he should not have shouted at his uncle, but he was done with everything. And all his frustrations poured out. He did not regret the fact, just wished that he had been more mature about it all.

His uncle left, shoulders slouched, leaving the room failed at his mission. Rizwan entered the room happily. He had heard the conversation and was very happy.
"Arrey meray bhai! Kamal kar diya!" His eyes twinkling with mirth.
"Shukriya!" Mustafa replied sarcastically.

Rizwan sat down immediately. Sighing. He looked at his friend, who just happened to be his best advisor.
"Mustafa meri baat suno, kal ham rishta dekhnay gai thay, yaar usko to angreezi bhi nahin aati!" He spoke out of frustration.
"Tou kiya faraq parta hai? Pakistani hai. Kam az kam urdu tou aati hai," Mustafa reasoned with him.
"SHE IS NOT EDUCATED!" Rizwan complained.
"Insaan parhna chahi tou kabhi bhi parh sakta hai," Mustafa smiled.
"MUJHE KOI AUR PASANAD HAI. ABU is dead set on having us get married. And I am not liking that. Tell me what to do? I absolutely am in love and can not marry her". He finally told him the truth.

"Rizwan tell uncle. He will always keep your happiness over every thing. Do not break an innocent girls heart. Come clean before it is too late!" Mustafa explained to Rizwan.

He knew his friend was not a bad man. He just needed to be shown the right path. He was his dearest friend. So he would of course not like him getting hurt.

The question was, would Rizwan take his word and act on it or act recklessly.

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