Dastanein (short story collection)

Chapter 8

Today was mehndi, so the elders were busy doing one thing or another while the younger clan sat in a room surrounding the bride to be.

"Fahad beta, zara dekho sab sahi ho raha hai," Kainat said to her eldest son, who just nodded, walking away to check the arrangements.
("Fahad, dear, make sure everything is going smoothly.")

"Aur phupho, koi kaam mujhe bhi de dein," Arham said, wrapping his arm around his aunt's shoulder.
("And aunt, give me some work too.")

"Koi kaam nahi felhal toh....balke hai," she suddenly remembered the sweets order she was yet to receive.
("No work for now....oh wait, there is something.")

"Kya?"
("What?")

"Methai....Hamza ko kehti lekin woh koi last moment ka kaam reh gaya tha woh dekhne gaya hai."
("The sweets... I would have asked Hamza, but he had some last minute task, so he went to check.")

"Arey phupho, koi baat nahi, mein hun na, Izzah api meri bhi kuch lagti hain," he said, standing up to go.
("It's fine, aunty. I'm here, and Izzah api also something to me in relation.")

"Ap call kar dein ke ready rakhein."
("Call them to have it ready.")

"Han, theek hai," she smiled, patting his head affectionately.
("Yes, okay.")

"Phupho....phupho."

Kainat turned her head, hearing her niece's voice, who seemed like she might cry any moment.

"Kya hua?"
("What happened?")

"Ap dekhein na, mein joh heels layi thi woh toot gai bag mein, aur ab Amma keh rahi hain ke mein adjust kar lun....kyun ke koi bhi mujhe is waqt bazar nahi leke jaye ga.....ab ap btayein ke ese thori hota hai," she complained while Kainat chuckled.
("Look, the heels I bought broke in the bag, and now mom says I should adjust....because no one will take me to the market now....how is this fair?")

"Koi baat nahi, yeh Arham ja raha hai na, uske sath chale jao," her eyes widened at his mention as she glanced left to meet a smirking Arham.
("It's okay, Arham is going....go with him.")

She hadn't noticed until now that he was standing there, listening to her complain like a toddler.

"It's ok, phupho, ese hi..."

"Koi baat nahi, yeh har shohar ka farz hota hai, jao," she said, making her look down shyly at the mention of the word husband. It was the first time since her arrival that someone reminded her of their relationship.
("It's okay, it's every husband's duty, go.")

"Chalein?" he asked as she nodded, following him.
("Shall we go?")

Sitting in the car, he told her they would first collect the sweets, then she could shop for herself, to which she agreed.

After collecting the sweets, he roared the engine toward the mall.

Entering the mall, she walked straight to the shoe shop, not wanting to waste time.

Checking a few pairs, she asked his opinion. When they settled on a pair of heels and she was trying them on, the salesman bent down to help her but Arham beat him to it.

"It's ok, I can do that for my wife," he said, placing her foot on his knees and tying it properly, as she kept looking at him.

"Perfect," he said, eyeing the heels, and she liked them too.

"Bhai, yeh pack kar dein," she said, handing him the pair.
("Brother, pack this.")

As they reached the billing counter and she was about to pay, he just forwarded his card.

"Arham..."

"You can pay me later," he said, and she frowned, confused, but soon her confusion cleared as they reached the car.

"Payment time," he said, offering his cheek, and she looked at him with an are you for real? look.

"Jaldi," he said as she wetted her lips and leaned forward, pecking his cheek.
("Hurry.")

As they stopped at a traffic signal, a vendor selling flowers came to their window.

"Sahab, lelo yeh gajre, apki biwi ko acha lage ga....apke boht sone bache hongy," the lady vendor blessed them, as Arham smirked and Nawal just wanted to evaporate.
("Sir, take these garlands, your wife will like them....you must have many beautiful children.")

"Hath do," he said, holding the gajre in his hand.
("Give me your hand.")

After making her wear them, he kissed the back of her hands, and she blushed.

"Meri biwi ke hatton mein ziada ache lag rahe hain," he said, focusing back on the drive, while the car filled with the scent of roses and jasmine or maybe love.
("They look even more beautiful on my wife's hands.")

__________

As the night grew closer, the chitter chatter, light breezy music, and all the vibes of mehndi lit up the atmosphere.

All the girl cousins gathered around the bride as they applied mehndi along with her.

"Nawal api, apko Nafeesa aunty bula rahi hain garden mein," one of the kids from her aunt's side informed and ran away.
("Nawal api, Nafeesa aunty is calling you to the garden.")

Nawal frowned because last time she saw her mother going upstairs but still decided to check.

Standing in the middle of the garden, she looked here and there in search of her mother, but there was no sign of anyone.

As she was about to go back, a hand pulled her to the side.

"Kisi din heart attack ajaye ga mujhe," she said, glaring at the culprit, who was grinning proudly.
("One day, I'm going to have a heart attack because of you.")

"Boht khoobsurat lag rahi ho," he said softly, as she closed her eyes, feeling his fingers brush her cheek.
("You look so beautiful.")

A loud thud broke their moment, and Nawal backed away, placing a hand on her chest, it was just the catering man.

"Mera name likhwana mehndi pe."
("Get my name written on the mehndi.")

"Ap yeh text bhi kar sakte thy," she said, looking around, too scared to get caught.
("You could've texted this too.")

"Exactly, lekin meri biwi ne puri duniya ko apna number diya hai mere ilawa."
("Exactly, but my wife has given her number to the entire world except me.")

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Number ap mangte toh mil jata," she said, demanding his phone, and he gladly gave it as she saved her number.
("If you had asked for my number, you would've gotten it.")

"Okay, bye now."

"Mera name likhwana mat bhulna," he whisper yelled as she ran away.
("Don't forget to write my name.")

"Kaha thi Nawal? Chalo, it's your turn."
("Where were you, Nawal? Come on, it's your turn.")

She nodded, sitting on the floor to apply the mehndi.

"Name likein gi ap, ma'am?" the mehndi artist asked while she looked around, everyone was busy in their own gossip.
("Will you get a name written, ma'am?")

Leaning forward, she whispered, "Umm...Arham.....here," she said, showing her the place to write.

The artist nodded, returning to her work.

.
.
.