Three.
2279 Words
Aaina.
They say when life gives you lemons, go make a lemonade. What to do when life gives you no other choice? They say that we always have a choice. But do we?
I'm sure hundreds of women in my position would have chose to run away, hundreds would have been happy that they were getting married to a rich famous man, hundreds would have tried to convince themselves that things would be okay.
And hundreds would have simply sat, just the way I was sitting right now, in this Prime Minister House, Murree..contemplating life.
Most women at their engagement day pamper themselves, they go to incredible salons, they get spa treatments, they get manicures and pedicures, they click selfies and then find the perfect one to post, just to show their pre and post engagement glow.
I, on the other hand, was sat down, watching game of thrones, cuddled up in the warmth of a blanket.
It wasn't just my love for the show, or for Robb stark who was brutally murdered, but also the fact that it was the only thing making me feel alright at the moment.
I hadn't spoken to Zaydaan ever since that day. He had left with his brother, right after uttering those horrible words to me.
His father and mother had been quite kind and polite, as they usually were. I had been my usual self too.
The Prime Minister, Zaydaan's father, he seemed kind enough but also cunning enough.
His mother, well..she was quite sweet and warm.
I was still shaken up though.
He had been absolutely horrible to me. He had no words of comfort for me, he had nothing nice to say.
His words, they rang in my mind all the time. Lessons, he said. I wasn't his student, I wasn't meant to obligate him. And yet, I already knew what he expected from me.
I just didn't know if I could mould myself into a dutiful wife. I was a dutiful daughter because I was brought up that way. How could I ever become a dutiful wife?
How could I become someone like my mother?
As my eyes stared at Tyrion Lannister on my screen, my mind went back to what the day really was.
My engagement day.
I was sat in a big room, in the hills of Murree, with nothing but worry in my head.
The day, this freaking happy news was going to be announced.
Prime Minister Idrees Ziagil's son and Minister of foreign affairs, Zaydaan Ziagil engaged to Business Tycoon Imran Sikander's daughter.
And then the media would start it's usual bullshit gossip.
Why, how, where, when, who?
And Geo would for sure critisize it. They would call it a bargain, an alliance. I didn't want my name to be taken in such a bad way. But could I control it? No.
I would become a public figure by tomorrow morning. I didn't care, really. I didn't care about that. Okay, maybe I did. But there were other things that I cared about even more.
Like my marriage, which I already knew was a marriage of convenience, a business arrangement, a political game.
Marriage was such a sacred bond and yet, I knew mine was going to be a disaster.
Atleast he was a good looking man.
I remember how absolutely horrific I had felt, how I had knocked on my father's door at four in the morning, How I had told him the way my future husband had talked to me.
My father had shrugged it off.
It hurt.
How can you form an opinion of him even before you're married? Ofcourse, he is going to be firm at the start, every man is. Didn't I tell you I don't want you to protest about anything?
He had responded.
Abbu, I have always respected your choice. What if this isn't a good one? I don't think it's right that I marry someone for a cause that is political.
I had objected. I had no idea where I had gained that tiny courage from. But I had.
Aaina, when you are honored in front of the whole world as his wife, you're going to thank me.
And then, he had shut the door to my face.
I had objected in the most polite way and had got nothing but a frown in return.
What was the point of fighting then?
As I glanced at the time yet again, I finally stood up and put away my laptop.
I rubbed my face twice, not knowing whether I wanted to cry or whether I wanted to hide away.
Taking a deep breath, I looked at the beautician who had arrived at the house to get me prepared.
Apparently, the Prime Minister's future daughter in law was not allowed to visit a beauty parlour.
I sat in front of the dressing table as she set up her things and started to do my makeup.
I remained quiet through out the process. She knew what she was doing and I had absolutely no energy to poke her.
When the time to wear my dress arrived, I couldn't help but stare at it with awe. It had arrived two days ago and I had fallen in love with it.
The first lady had a good fashion sense, that much was clear. Even though she always kept herself in modest clothing, she managed to shine with such grace.
I was in the process of getting my nails done when my mother entered the room.
I stared at her.
She had not comforted me even once, in any way. Yes, she was more attached to our brother Affan and she liked to pamper Saira but she showed me her affection when I needed it too.
She passed me a fake smile, putting a hand on my shoulder and glancing at me through the mirror.
"The only way to get through it all is to hold your head high. You look beautiful."
She advised, ending her tiny words of wisdom with a compliment.
I stared at the woman who was still busy doing my nails.
"Can you give me some privacy, please?" I said to her, she nodded in understanding and left the room.
In that moment, I looked at my mother will all the heaviness that I held in my heart.
"He told me his word is the final word, that his family won't tolerate late comers and that talking back to the husband will not be tolerated either." I told her.
"How will you sleep at night, knowing the fact that he will not be a good husband. He didn't even know me and yet he said unkind things to me."
She looked at me as if she wanted to say a million things, instead she cupped my chin.
"Once he sees how lovely you are, he is going to be as kind to you as you are to others." She whispered.
I wanted to chuckle out loud.
Dream on, ammi.
"Now come on, your abbu is waiting outside to take you."
For a moment, I wanted to take her hand and beg her to accompany me to the hall, to stay by my side or to atleast send Saira, abbu would give me nothing but a cold shoulder and a grumbling reply, instead I turned and walked out of my room.
My father stood outside the room in a black shalwar kameez and a grey waist coat, the distinct smell of his perfume reached me first as I walked ahead.
He smiled down at me.
"Theek lag rahi ho."
He told me that I looked fine.
He had never really told me how I looked before. If he told me that I looked fine, it meant that I looked beautiful.
I shakily put my hand in his.
He firmly gripped it to stop the shaking.
He was about to make me walk ahead but I gulped yet again and glanced at him.
"Abbu.." I didn't know what I would even say to him but the words still left my mouth.
Couldn't he see that I wasn't ready for this? He could, right?
My father inhaled a deep breath, he put his hand on my head, lightly.
"You don't have to worry." He whispered.
"I talked to him, I told him to be gentle with you. That you're not used to crude tone."
I was used to crude tone.
My father used it with my mother, but at the same time, he never used the same tone with us. I guess he didn't need to. We were scared enough of him anyway. So, in a way, he was right.
There were so many things wrong with this situation but I would be lying if I said that his words didn't comfort me a little.
I nodded after taking another nervous breath and then he made me walk with him.
We walked down the stairs and I could hear the chatter in the main hall already.
There were several people, even though the Prime Minister had said that it would only be a small family event.
Clearly, his party was his family.
Father put his hand on the small of my back, making me walk forward again as he saw me hesitating.
It almost felt like I was a lamb, walking towards slaughter.
The moment I entered the hall, the whole conversation died. My palms got even more sweaty.
Was I supposed to say something? I didn't know.
They stared at me with judgemental eyes and I couldn't help but look down again. I didn't want to know what judgement they had of me.
I looked up again as I saw my mother and sister approach my side, my sister cupped my shoulder, in a comforting manner.
My eyes stared at the crowd once again, and then I saw him.
He was stood beside his father and brother, in a white kurta.
I got guided towards the main sofas with my family. I didn't look up the entire time.
Everytime I looked at him, it reminded me of the last conversation we had.
The first proper one and the extremely terrifying one.
Finally, as we reached them, my father looked at his future son in law, beaming at him. I wanted to gag.
How happy my father looked, as if he had won the lottery.
And Zaydaan?
His eyes were cold and emotionless yet again as they focused on my father.
"Salam, Imran Sahab" He greeted first, my father patted his back. Then, my mother moved ahead greeting everyone.
"Salam a alaikum."
I heard him say Salam in the wrong way but I didn't really know who he was saying it to, not until my sister pinched my side.
He was saying it to me?
I looked up with a wild beating heart.
"Wa laikum salam."
I whispered back. I knew it was rude of me to just stand there so I greeted the Prime Minister and his wife.
I knew they were almost my in laws now but it still felt so damn weird.
"Shall we start?" One of the men from their side questioned and my father nodded.
This was it. I was actually getting engaged.
It didn't take much time for everyone to gather around.
He kept staring at me and it made me feel so uncomfortable. I didn't understand why he would do that.
"Did you cry?"
I jumped, startled that he had directed a question at me.
What did that even mean? Were my eyes red? Was that it?
His voice was so deep and yet so calm this time, I knew he was anything but that.
"No. Just couldn't sleep." I admitted, lying through my gritted teeth.
My voice as low as his.
His father handed him over the engagement ring. A gold ring with a big diamond sitting in between two smaller diamonds.
It was beautiful.
He held out his left hand for and I awkwardly slipped my hand into his. My fingers shaking again.
He slipped the ring onto my finger, letting go after that.
I could say I felt alot of things when his fingers touched mine, but the truth was, I only felt nervous.
Nothing more.
I did the same with him, I slipped in the engagement ring as quickly as I could.
And that was it.
The applaud and cheers around us started. I was almost thinking of going back to sit on the sofa and atleast try to relax when I saw him lean a tiny bit down, I felt his mouth near my ear.
He wasn't touching me, but I could still feel surrounded by his touch.
"Lesson number three, don't snitch on me again, I won't tolerate it."
He hissed in my ear.
At first, I felt confused. Then, I realised that he was talking about my father, who had asked him to be gentle with me.
I could give him alot of explanations, alot of answers but instead I remained quiet through out the entire night.
What had they gotten me into? How was I supposed to live with a man who gave me f*****g lessons on how to behave?
I wanted to be strong, I really did. And it was just the start, but I knew that he had a way with words and he had only used his cruel ones with me.
I didn't understand him. I didn't understand why he was so mean.
That night, for the first time, I actually cried.
I didn't care if my sister heard me, or my mother, or anyone else for that matter. I simply cried.
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- Writer
