S T A R S were glimmering in the dark sky. The world enveloped in a never seen before serenity. The hearts were calm as the gentle wind blew across the open air event. The bright lights, dim in front of the natural light of the stars.

The bride sat next to her groom, looking as regal as ever. Her bright maroon lipstick highlighted the white pearly teeth. Her henna covered hands gripping the bejeweled clutch tightly. Her lehnga spread out around her. As she consciously tugged at whenever someone came on the stage.

Cameramen surrounded her and her groom. Flashing bright white lights as everyone came to take pictures with them. Women she had never seen before, stepped onto the large wooden platform to hand her her salami. Pinching her cheeks, wishing her a happily ever after.

Her husband, a smitten man, could not take his eyes away from her. The soul shaking stare had her blushing. The man could not help but whisper sweet words into her ears. Coating her in his love. The two, blissfully unaware of the storm that was making its way towards them.

Hoor and Mustafa entered the hall, with Hoor being the one to wheel him in. She looked stunning in the saree that she had decided to wear. It was the first time she was attending an event with her husband, it was of great importance to her that she looked perfect, when it was just an illusion that she was creating.

Mustafa, looked dapper in his grey suit, his hands holding a box tightly. He had told her in cryptic words that tonight he would get her the respect she deserved. Putting an end to all the suffering.

He had selected his outfit for her all by himself. And it was the perfect choice. The icy-silver blue shade of it complimented her bronze skin tone. The blouse and sleeves full of heavy detailing. Adorned with the finest of sequins and embroidery. The lower half, made of silk was too covered in the same work, with zardozi. In her neck, a pearl chocker sat, in the centre of which was a green emerald.

People turned their heads as they saw the pair enter. Some faces blooming with smiles, while others withering. Rizwan and Rumaisa were shocked to see the two. They had invited them out of courtesy, thinking that the would not attend. But it was the complete opposite.

They had come dressed to the nines. Their smiling faces as they made their way towards them had them shook. Rumaisa thought of the audacity her cousin had to bring his illiterate wife to her wedding. It did not sit right with her that such a woman could have riches she - Rumaisa - could only ever dream of.

Hoor and Mustafa stopped at the foot of the platform. There was no angled ramp, to help Mustafa on. They had no option but to stand there. Wait for Rizwan to make a move.

Rizwan, remembering the times that he had spent with Mustafa since a young boy, decided to give him face. Stepping off of the stage, coming to stand in front of him. An air of arrogance in him that was not there before.

"Assalamualikum Mustafa. Bari baat hai jo aj idhr aagai!" His tone full of venom.
"Biwi ki izzat ka mamla hai. Ana para," he brushed his words off.
Mustafa no longer cared for Rizwan. He had been a hypocrite. Cheating him. And then he had the audacity to put not one but two accusations on his wife that had done a lot of damage to her self-esteem.

"Jaisa tum kaho. Ab agaye ho tou mehmanon ki tarah khao aur jao!" Rizwan spoke, brushing off years of friendship in one go.
"Mein tum jaison ki shaadi ka khana nahi khata. Yeh lo. Jiss keh pechay zindagi haram kar rakhi hai humari. Aj keh baad apni shakal bhi mat dikhana!" Mustafa stuffed the box in his hands.

Signalling Hoor to turn the wheelchair around, they began to leave. When Mustafa spotted Rizwan's father. His own father's most trusted servant.

"Assalamualikum Rehman sahab. Ap keh liye bhi kuch hai!" He handed him a piece of paper.
Urging him to open it. It was the original Nikkah nama of Rizwan and Rumi.

Rehman could not belive what he saw. He turned his head towards his son.
"Yeh kia hai?" He handed him the page.
His eyes showing how disappointed he felt as a father. Rizwan's eyes widened when he read the words.

"Yeh tumhein kaisay mila?" He questioned in a stern voice.
Mustafa simply shook his head, smirking. He did not give him an answer but instead asked Hoor to wheel him out. They were getting late for their dinner reservations.

AT THE RESTAURANT
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No sooner had they sat and ordered their food (Mustafa ordered their food), Hoor turned to him. Her eyes full of curiosity.
"Mustafa ap ko pata kaise chala?"
Mustafa smiled at her. He knew this question was coming. Over the past few weeks, he had hid the fact that he knew about Rumiasa and Rizwan's marriage. He found out a day after he was married to Hoor.

"Bas Hoor kisi janne walay nai batay," he smiled.
Thinking of how Rizwan had been acting suspicious so he had sent a man of his to check if he was okay or not. The man that he had sent, did not return until after his and Hoor's wedding. His mother had fallen ill and he had rushed out of the city.

His man had found out that Rizwan was getting married to Rumaisa. And had tracked down the qazi in order to get the copy. He had threatened him in order to get it.

Once the situation had been revealed to him, Mustafa connected the dots instantly. Realising that he had been played. And that the reason why Rumi had made fake pictures of Hoor was to stop the wedding. It was a last resort option.

R E H M A N H O U S E, DHA
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The bride and groom entered the heavily decorated home. Everyone surrounded them on entrance. Teasing them. Meanwhile, Rehman excused himself as soon as he entered. His heart still not used to the betrayal of his own son. The son who was his pride and for whom he had done everything. The son who had become to old to involve him in important decisions that he took.

Rehman changed out of the boski outfit. Sitting on his bed with shoulders hunched. He sighed. Trying to let go of the heaviness on his chest. When there was a sudden knock on the door. It broke the eerie silence, shaking Rehman.

"Ajao," Rehman spoke in a soft whisper.
It was a miracle that the person on the other side of the door had managed to hear it.
"Abu mein apse baat karnay aya hun," Rizwan entered, standing on the foot of the bed.
Rehman lifted his eyes. Looking at his son, before lowering them again.
"Puchnay ki kia zaroorat hai?" His words carrying an undertone of sarcasm.

"Abu maaf kardein. Ghalti ho gai. Mujhe apko batay bina nahi karna chahiye tha. Par ap bhi tou Hoor sai shaadi karwanae par tulay huway thay. Mein kia karta? Ap kuch sunnay ko bhi tiyaar nahi thay!" Rizwan brushed off the blame from his shoulders.
It was his father's fault. Simple. Had he been more understanding, it would not have come down to a situation like this.
"To tum bar bar kehtay. Hoor sai baat kar lete. Mustafa keh through mujh sai baat karte. Mana keh meri ghalti thi. Par phir bhi! Tumne shaadi bina bataye kar kaise li? Mujhe tou lagta hai woh tasweer bhi tumhari biwi nai banai thi! Takay tumhe Hoor sai shaadi na karni paray!" Rehman spoke.

Seeing Rizwan's silence he understood that what he had said was true. His son and his wife had blamed an innocent woman and man. Rehman felt his consciousness grow heavy. How could they think that after blaming an innocent and destroying their lives, they themselves could have a happy and blissful life? Was his son really that ignorant? Rehamn sighed. Praying that Allah would forgive them for their sins. And save them from the sharp knife of karma.

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