Maybe I didn't express my point clearly in the last note. When I said that a husband wouldn't be able to tolerate that his wife loved someone else before, I was specifically referring to Mehrab, not all husbands. I've even written stories where the husband knew his wife was previously interested in someone else, but they both moved on together. I was only and specifically talking about Mehrab in previous note😅

•••

The coffee shop was a quiet haven in the middle of the bustling city. Hoorain walked in, eager to escape the chaos outside. She placed her order, a cappuccino with extra foam, her usual, and found a corner seat where she could sit. Today, Hoorain needed to buy some supplies for the workshop, so she came to the market. Initially, she wanted to bring Anabia along, but then she decided to come alone.

Mehrab, on the other side of the shop, was engrossed in his laptop, typing away. He had ordered a black coffee with a hint of caramel.

The barista called out, “Caramel coffee and cappuccino!”

Mehrab and Hoorain both approached the counter at the same time, grabbing their respective drinks without paying much attention. They returned to their seats and took their first sips.

Almost simultaneously, they frowned and looked at their cups. Mehrab, expecting the bitterness of black coffee, was surprised by the sweetness. Hoorain, used to her creamy cappuccino, was met with an unexpected strong flavour.

They both stood up and walked back to the counter to complain about the wrong order.

"I think there’s been a mix-up,” Hoorain said, holding out her cup.

“This isn't my order,” Mehrab said, putting the cup on the counter.

Their eyes met simultaneously, and a pleasant surprise filled both of their gazes as they recognized each other.

“Hoorain?” Mehrab asked, a hint of surprise in his voice.

“Mehrab sir," Hoorain said, equally astonished.

"Ab hum college mein nahi hain, you can stop calling me sir," Mehrab corrected her.

(We're not in college anymore,)

"Bhai?" Hoorain hesitated, trying to decide how to address him. Considering his engagement to Anabia, she should call him bhai.

"Koi rishta banana zaroori hai?" Mehrab asked, making Hoorain silent. By then, the barista had brought their correct orders.

(Is it necessary to define a relationship?)

"I'm sorry for the mix-up," she apologized, handing them their correct drinks.

"Thanks," they both said in unison, taking their cups.

They stood there for a moment, unsure of what to say. “So, how are you?” Mehrab asked, breaking the silence.

"Good, and you?" Hoorain replied. As they walked back to their tables, Mehrab gestured towards his table, inviting her to join him.

"My bag," Hoorain pointed to her table and walked over, not expecting Mehrab to follow her with his laptop.

"Tum aaj kal kya kar rahi ho?" Mehrab asked with genuine interest. Hoorain hadn't expected them to talk so easily, as if they were old friends. They hadn't even met at Anabia and Mehrab's engagement because they had separate functions.

(So, what are you up to these days?)

“Kuch khas nahi, mera startup hai toh pura time wahi jata hai." Hoorain replied, her voice filled with pride.

(Nothing special, just working on my startup,)

"Really? What's your startup about?" Mehrab asked, surprised.

"Aisa kuch khas nahi, bas chota sa hai..." Hoorain said shyly, focusing on her coffee.

(It's nothing special, just a small one...)

“Oh, by the way, congratulations on your engagement,” Hoorain suddenly remembered.

“Tumhe kaise pata?” Mehrab's question made Hoorain's smile fade.

(How did you know?)

"Anabia meri best friend aur cousin hai," Hoorain reminded him.

(Anabia is my best friend and cousin,)

"I forgot," Mehrab realized his mistake, but it was too late. The happiness had disappeared from Hoorain's face, and she looked at him as if trying to understand something deeper.

"Aap Annu se related cheezein bhool jate hain?" she asked, her voice neutral.

(Do you often forget things related to Anabia?)

"Aap Annu se shadi kyu kar rahe hain?" Hoorain never thought she would ask this question. She had defended Mehrab in front of Anabia, saying he deserved a second chance, but now she doubted his intentions.

(Why are you marrying Anabia?)

Mehrab's smile vanished too. He looked at Hoorain in silence, both of their coffees growing cold on the table.

"Anabia janti hai main ussey shadi kyu kar raha hoon. I don't owe explanations to everyone," Mehrab's expression turned cold.

(Anabia knows why I am marrying her.)

"It was nice meeting you," Mehrab said, packing his laptop and left, but he left Hoorain deep in thought.

•••

Once again, Hoorain found herself entangled in a web of worries. The more she tried to stay away from Anabia, Zaryab, and Mehrab’s matters, the more she got involved in them. Now, a new concern had gripped her. Mehrab tended to forget small things related to Anabia—would he be able to appreciate her? Lost in these thoughts, she started her car and put it in reverse to back out of the parking spot, but her car collided with the one parked behind her.

“Allah,” Hoorain exclaimed, looking at the car behind her through the rearview mirror. She turned off the engine before stepping out, but before she could get out, the owner of the other car had arrived.

"Apko car chalani nahi ati..." he came over angrily, knocking on her closed window, but as soon as Hoorain rolled it down, he fell silent, probably surprised to see a woman in the car.

(You don’t know how to drive a car…)

"I'm sorry," Hoorain said, feeling very embarrassed as she got out. She hadn’t even looked at the damage yet.

"Koi... koi baat nahi," the man, who had been fuming just moments ago, now spoke in a much calmer tone.

(It's... it’s okay,)

Hoorain examined the damage to both cars. Her car was also damaged, but it was her fault.

"I'm sorry, I'll pay for the damage." She turned to the man and offered.

"No, it’s okay. It was partly my fault too; I shouldn’t have parked my car so close." Now he was smiling awkwardly.

Hoorain gave him a sceptical look.

"Nahi, ap please mujhe apna number note karwa dein, I'll pay for it." Hoorain's pride wouldn’t allow her to let someone else bear the cost of her mistake.

(No, please give me your number,)

"My number?" He paused for a moment. "Why don’t you give me your number, and I’ll call you..." he suggested carefully.

Hoorain nodded and gave him her number.

“Apka naam?” He asked as he saved the number in his phone.

(Your name?)

“Hoorain Mustafa.”

“Moiz,” the man introduced himself. Hoorain said nothing and gestured for him to move aside because she needed to leave.

“Hoorain,” Moiz repeated her name as he watched her car drive away.

“Moiz, kabse main tumhara entrance pe wait kar rahi thi aur tum ab tak yaha ho.” Moiz’s elder sister, Saba, arrived and scolded him, handing him the pile of shopping bags she was carrying.

(Moiz, I've been waiting for you at the entrance for so long, and you’re still here.)

“Yeh kya hua?” Before Moiz could respond, she noticed the scratches on the car’s bumper. Moiz had just bought this new car, and they had come shopping and then to the cafe to celebrate.

(What happened here?)

“Ek car ne galti se takkar mardi.” Moiz replied as he opened the backseat to place Saba’s shopping bags.

(A car accidentally bumped into mine,)

“Kon tha woh? Logo ko gadi chalani nahi ati toh drive karte hi kyu hain.” Saba was more upset about the scratch on Moiz’s car than he was.

(Who did it? If people can’t drive, why do they even bother?)

“Accident tha, api. She didn’t mean it.” Moiz explained. They both got into the car, and Moiz started driving.

(It was an accident,)

“She?” Saba looked at Moiz with suspicion.

“Aap mujhe aise kyu dekh rahi hain?” Moiz felt uneasy.

(Why are you looking at me like that?)

“Nothing,” Saba decided not to pursue the matter further.

•••

“Apne Ayeza aunty se baat ki?” More than a week had passed, and Zaryab's patience had worn thin, so he asked his mother during dinner.

(Have you talked to Ayeza Aunty?)

“Dusre din hi baat ki thi, lekin unhone abhi koi jawab nahi diya.” Zayrah didn’t even look at her son and kept focusing on her food, but Zaryab’s attention was entirely on her.

(I spoke to her the very next day, but she hasn’t given me an answer yet.)

“Toh aap phirse call kar lein,” Zaryab suggested, thinking he was being helpful.

(Then call her again,)

“Zaryab, khamoshi ka matlab na hota hai.” Zayrah put down her spoon and gave her son a sharp look.

(Zaryab, silence often means no.)

“Aur mujhe samajh nahi ata tumhe Hoorain se shadi kyu karni hai?”

(And I don’t understand why you want to marry Hoorain?)

Ali was listening to their conversation but chose to remain silent, thinking it was wiser to focus on his meal.

“Achhi larki hai woh,” Zaryab said, causing Zayrah to take a deep breath and sigh.

(She’s a nice girl.)

“Bohot achhi larki hai, hum jante hain. Lekin ab 2 baar mana ho chuka hai tumhara rishta waha se. Aur sach kahu toh itna sab jo hua hai hum khandan mein tumhari shadi karna nahi chahte.” Zayrah was speaking bluntly, hoping Zaryab would understand. But this time, Zaryab set his spoon down on his plate with frustration.

(She is indeed a very nice girl, I know that. But your proposal has been rejected twice already. And to be honest, with everything that has happened, I don’t want you to marry within the family.)

“Mujhe Hoori se shadi karni hai, mujhe woh pasand hai.” Zaryab’s tone was so harsh that Ali had to intervene.

(I want to marry Hoori, I like her.)

“Zaryab, kisi tarah se baat kar rahe ho apni mummy se?”

(Zaryab, is this how you speak to your mother?)

“Pasand toh tumhe Anabia bhi thi, lekin move on hue na...” Zayrah responded in the same tone.

(You liked Anabia too, but you moved on...)

“Thi, ab nahi hai. And I’ve always liked Hoorain. It’s just that you always pushed me towards Anabia. Otherwise, I might not have even considered her.”

(I used to like Anabia, not anymore.)

“What do you mean by that?” Zayrah was puzzled by his words.

“Zayrah,” Ali intervened before things could escalate further. He knew that when young men started making their own decisions and thought they were always right, they often misunderstood their parents' intentions. Ali didn’t want to provoke his son further at this moment.

Zaryab took a deep breath, composed himself, and spoke softly. “Mummy, I didn’t mean anything by that. Main wakai mein Hoorain se shadi karna chahta hoon.”

(I really do want to marry Hoorain.)

“Toh phir tum khud hi baat karlo api aur bhai se. Hum baar baar apni touheen nahi karwa sakte.” But Zayrah’s anger hadn’t subsided; she was still fuming.

(Then you should talk to your aunt and uncle yourself. I can’t keep humiliating myself repeatedly.)

Zaryab pushed his plate away and left.

“Dekh rahe hain iss larke ko?” Zayrah looked at Ali, who was also surprised by Zaryab’s behaviour.

(Did you see how your son behaved?)

“Main baat karta hoon ussey. Lekin tum bhi thora sabr se baat kiya karo. He’s not a child anymore; you can’t expect him to obey you if you’re harsh.” Ali advised Zayrah.

(I’ll talk to him. But you need to be more patient when you speak to him.)

"Haan sari galti humari hi hai."

(Yes, everything is my fault.)

•••

Hoorain’s question had forced Mehrab to think deeply.

"Aap Annu se shadi kyu kar rahe hain?" Her words echoed in his mind, pulling him back to their college days, how Hoorain would sometimes counsel Zaryab and other times him, always advocating for Anabia.

(Why are you marrying Annu?)

Did Anabia say something to Hoorain that prompted her to ask this question? He had always been a private person, and the thought that Anabia might have shared details of their relationship with others didn’t sit well with him.

It had been a while since Mehrab and Anabia last talked, as if Anabia was intentionally ignoring him. Whenever Mehrab called, she wouldn’t answer at first, and then after some time, she’d send a message saying she was busy with work. Mehrab didn’t like texting, so he never tried to talk to her through messages.

The unease within him grew, and Mehrab knew he couldn’t ignore it any longer. He needed to talk to Anabia to clear the air before things spiralled out of control. He wasn’t the type to live with lingering doubts, and he certainly wasn’t prepared to spend his life constantly justifying his decisions to others.

•••

Mehrab hadn’t called Anabia because she wasn’t answering his calls. Instead, he called Badia directly, saying he wanted to take Anabia shopping for the wedding. Badia was a bit worried but eventually agreed after Zabail convinced her. Zain had also taken Zabail shopping to buy things of his choice, so how could Badia refuse her other son-in-law?

Despite not wanting to go, Anabia reluctantly got ready.

“Coffee piyogi?” Mehrab broke the silence in the car. Anabia had been quiet ever since she got in, a silence that would seem strange to anyone. Mehrab, who was used to her chatter, found it even more unusual.

(Do you want some coffee?)

Anabia didn’t say anything but nodded her head in agreement.

Mehrab pulled into a drive-through and ordered two coffees, handing one to Anabia before resuming their aimless drive through the city streets.

“What’s gotten into you all of a sudden, Anabia? Agar tumhare dil mein kuch hai bolo. Meri koi baat buri lagi hai toh larho jhagro apni baat manwao. Mujhe tum waise hi pasand ho jaise pehle tumhe jana tha.” Mehrab, usually a man of few words, found himself speaking more than usual. His tone was steady, deep, but with an undercurrent of concern that was hard to miss.

(If you have something on your mind, just say it. If I’ve done something wrong, argue with me, fight, and make your point. I like you just as you were when I first got to know you.)

Anabia felt a pang of guilt. She hadn’t realized just how much her silence had affected him. It was clear that Mehrab had noticed every little change in her demeanour, and she hadn’t expected him to be so affected by it.

“Is there a problem?” Mehrab asked again when she remained quiet, his patience wearing thin. "Kafi time se notice kar raha hoon tum ignore kar rahi ho mujhe."

(I’ve noticed for quite some time that you’ve been ignoring me.)

“I’m not ignoring you,” Anabia finally spoke, her voice soft and almost defensive.

Mehrab sighed. “Baat mat banao. Koi baat hai toh saaf saaf bol do, mujhe bewajah ke suspense nahi pasand.”

(Don’t make excuses. If there’s something bothering you, just say it plainly. I don’t like unnecessary suspense.)

“Kya tum khush nahi ho iss rishte se?” Stepping outside his usual personality, Mehrab tried again to start a conversation again. He wasn’t used to persuading someone or taking someone’s silence so seriously.

(Aren’t you happy with this relationship?)

“Aap apna bataye, aap khush hain?” Anabia’s voice carried an edge of uncertainty. She knew that now that the conversation had started, she couldn’t back down. If she didn’t express herself now, she might never have the courage to do so again.

(Why don’t you tell me? Are you happy?)

“Kya matlab hai tumhara?” Mehrab asked, confused.

(What do you mean?)

“Kya aap zindagi bhar Zubi ki mohabbat ko dilse lagaye rahenge.”

(Will you hold onto your love for Zubi forever?)

Mehrab’s expression hardened at the mention of Zabail. “Zabail beech mein kaha se agayi?” His voice was controlled, but the defensiveness was evident.

(Why are you bringing up Zabail between us?)

Anabia’s heart sank further. “Zubi beech mein kaha hai, woh toh azal se apke liye sabse pehle hai.” Her tone was tinged with sadness, her words carrying the weight of long-held fears.

(Where is Zubi in between? She’s been first in your heart from the very beginning.)

“Anabia, don’t bring Zabail into this. Hum apni baat kar rahe hain.” Mehrab’s voice was strained, as if he were trying to maintain a grip on his emotions. He knew that if Anabia mentioned Zabail one more time, his patience might slip.

(We’re talking about us,)

“I don’t understand where I stand in your life, Mehrab,” Anabia said quietly, turning her gaze from Mehrab’s face to the road. “Aap humse shadi karna chahte hain par kyu? Kyuki aap humse mohabbat nahi karte itna toh hum samajh gaye hain ab. Aur shayad aap kabhi humse mohabbat karenge bhi nahi kyuki ab tak apke paas Zubi ki poetry hain.”

(You want to marry me, but why? Because it’s clear that you don’t love me; I’ve understood that much. And maybe you never will because you still have Zubi’s poetry with you.)

“Tum mere kamre mein gayi thi?” Mehrab’s focus on this detail, rather than the broader issue, made Anabia feel even worse. It was as if he was missing the point entirely.

(You went into my room?)

Anabia felt the ache in her chest intensify. She thought of her mother, who had tolerated the presence of another woman love in her father’s heart. Anabia wasn’t sure she could bear the same burden.

“Humari galti hai...” Anabia’s voice cracked, her emotions finally spilling over. “Humne uss shaks se mohabbat ki jiski mohabbat koi aur hai. Aur woh koi gair nahi, humari sagi behen hai.” Tears rolled down her cheeks, and she roughly wiped them away with the back of her hand. Seeing her cry, Mehrab felt his resolve weaken. He forgot the words he had prepared, the points he wanted to make.

(It’s my mistake...)

(I fell in love with someone whose love is for someone else. And that someone isn’t a stranger, she’s my own sister.)

They say tears are a woman’s weapon, but to Mehrab, her tears feel more like a curse.

“Tum phir jazbati ban rahi ho, Anabia.” Mehrab said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Kabhi jo tum tahamul se koi baat soch lo.” He handed her a tissue from the box in the car, and she took it, once again harshly wiping away her tears. Her eyes and nose had turned red, a sight that twisted something inside him.

(You’re getting emotional again, Anabia,)

(For once, try to think about something calmly.)

“Tumse dosti maine iss dhoke mein kiya ki tum Zabail ho, lekin yeh bhi sach hai tumhare sath rehte rehte mujhe tumse mohabbat ho gayi. Aur jab haqeeqat samne ayi toh mujhe laga tumne mujhe dhoka diya hai.” He confessed his love but also mentioned betrayal, leaving Anabia unsure of what to focus on first.

(I befriended you under the illusion that you were Zabail, but it’s also true that over time, I fell in love with you. And when the truth came out, I felt betrayed by you,)

“Ab jab itne saal beet gaye aur main yeh baat sochta hoon toh tumhari kam, meri galti zyada thi ki tumhe hosla meri dosti ne hi diya tha, warna shayad tum Zaryab ke sath aj khush rehti.” Mehrab’s voice was steady, but there was a hint of vulnerability in his words, a rare openness that he had never shown her before.

(Now, after all these years, when I think about it, I realize that it was more my fault than yours. My friendship gave you the courage. Otherwise, maybe you would have been happy with Zaryab today.)

“Aap taras kha rahe hain hum pe?” Anabia’s face showed disbelief.

(Are you pitying me?)

“Nahi,” Mehrab said firmly. “Tum phir mujhe galat samajh rahi ho. Taras mein koi apni zindagi ka sauda nahi karta, mujhe tumse shadi karni hai isliye rishta bheja hai. Lekin agar tum zindagi bhar Zabail ko hum dono ke beech mein laogi toh abhi bata do, mujhe apne liye ek sukoon ki zindagi chahiye.” His voice had softened, the tension that had been in it earlier now replaced with a quiet determination.

(No,)

(You’re misunderstanding me again. No one trades their life out of pity. I want to marry you, which is why I sent the proposal. But if you’re going to keep bringing Zabail between us for the rest of our lives, tell me now. I want a peaceful life for myself.)

Anabia’s tears had begun to slow, but the weight of Mehrab’s words hung in the air between them.

“Hum khud Zubi ko apne beech nahi lana chahte, woh humari behen hain, apni shadi shuda zindagi mein khush hain, yeh sab hume theek nahi lagta. Lekin kya aap kabhi unko apne dil se nikal payenge? Apke kamre mein ab tak kyu hai Zubi ki poetry?” Anabia asked, her voice trembling.

(I don’t want to bring Zubi between us either. She’s my sister, she’s happy in her married life, this doesn’t feel right to me. But will you ever be able to remove her from your heart? Why do you still have her poetry in your room?)

“Tumhe agar Zabail ki poetry si problem hai toh hata deti waha se woh sab. Anabia, main tumse shadi kar raha hoon, tumhe apni zindagi pe pura ikhtiyar de raha hoon.” This revelation from Mehrab left Anabia stunned, her tears drying up in her eyes as she processed his words.

(If Zubi’s poetry bothers you, then you can remove it from there. Anabia, I’m marrying you, giving you complete control over my life.)

“Lekin tum khud koi koshish nahi kar rahi ho mere dil se Zabail ki mohabbat nikalne ke liye. Yeh toh main khud hi koshish karta hoon. Tum mein shayad itni aqal hi nahi ki tum meri zindagi se unn yaado ko meeta do jo dhua banke tumhare dil ko jala rahe hain.”

(You’re not even trying to erase Zabail’s love from my heart. I’m the one making the effort. You don’t have the sense to wipe away those marks from my life that have been burning your heart like smoke.)

"Zabail se mujhe ishq hai. Unhe begair dekhe, begair jane bas unke alfaz ke hisar mein mujhe unse ishq hua tha."

(I was in love with Zabail. Without seeing her, without knowing her, I fell in love with her words alone.)

“Lekin tum, tumhari baat alag hai. Jis bhi dhoke mein tumhare sath dosti ki, woh sarey khushgawar pal maine tumhare sath beetaye the, aur mujhe iska ehsas hai ki, Anabia, tum chahe jane ke layak ho.” Mehrab’s words were like a balm to Anabia’s wounded heart. The thoughts that had been tormenting her for weeks seemed to lose their hold on her as she listened to him.

(But you, you’re different. Even though I befriended you under a false impression, all those happy moments I spent were with you, and I’m aware of the fact that, Anabia, you are worthy of being loved.)

She looked up at him, her eyes searching his face for any sign of deceit, but all she saw was sincerity.

Anabia looked out the car window again, feeling a bit shy and embarrassed. She watched the scenery pass by and finally spoke, her voice soft. “Haan toh yeh baat ap hume pehle bhi keh sakte the.” She said, still avoiding Mehrab’s gaze.

(You could have told me this earlier,)

Mehrab glanced at her briefly before returning his focus to the road. “Har baat kahe jane wali nahi hoti,” he responded, his tone calm but holding a quiet depth that only he could manage.

(Not everything needs to be said,)

Anabia turned to face him, her expression softening as her initial tension began to melt away. “Apko maloom hona chahiye, Mehrab, har larki apne life partner se izhar sunna chahti hai.” she said, her voice gentle but firm. “Iss mamle mein har larki ana parast hoti hai.”

(You should know, Mehrab, every girl wants to hear a confession from her life partner.)

(In this matter, every girl has a bit of pride,)

A smile appeared on Mehrab’s face at her words. It took just a moment for Anabia to return to her usual self.

“Ab tumhari narazgi khatam?”

(So, is your anger over now?)

Anabia's lips curved into a genuine smile, one that reached her eyes and brought back the familiar warmth that Mehrab was used to. "Haan,” she replied, her tone light and filled with the same playful spirit. "Ab chaliye hume shopping karwaiye."

(Yes, it is.)

(Now let's go shopping,)

Mehrab nodded, and without another word, he smoothly turned the car towards the mall. The road ahead seemed clearer. They had finally crossed a bridge that had long needed crossing.

•••

Do vote and comment as they motivate me to write😁

Please kardo comment, bhai nahi ho? 🐒

-Ufaq