Humsafar .

nineteen

Chapter 19.

Are you pregnant?

When I say Hassan smiled, this is what I mean :)

Hassan x Anaaya 

Quite the opposite actually.

I didn't hate him, obviously.

I liked him.

Alot.

But love? Did I love him? The opposite of hate is love? Did Hassan mean that I love him? Do I love Hassan?

I love how thoughtful he is, how he makes me understand his own perspective instead of disrespecting me.

I love how passionate he is about his work, I love that he talks to me calmly even after turning arrogant and cold.

But did I love him?

I didn't know.

"Bahu toh baat hi nahi karti. (Daughter in law doesn't even talk)"

It was nearly eleven at night, and Hassan grand mother had him sitting by her side, she kept whispering into his ear and even Hassan was so deep into listening everything.

He seemed extremely attached with them. It was kind of cute.

Hassan turned to look at me.

"Nahi nahi dado, aisa nahi hai. (No grandmother, it's not like that) Anaaya, come sit by her." He called me. I stood up from my seat and walked towards them, sitting beside his grand mother.

"Hassan pareshan toh nahi karta tujhe? (He doesn't upset you, right?) She questioned me, looking at my face obeerving each and every detail.

I shook my head.

"No, aunty." I mumbled.

"Aunty? Call me Daadi."

"Jee,"

"Aur yeh? Iski manhoos maa? (Her unlucky mother?) Does she say anything to you?" I gasped at her words, my mother in law was in the kitchen working so she pointed there.

God damn, the woman was a typical mother in law.

I looked at Hassan who just nodded, telling me to answer her.

"No, aunty's really nice. She's calm and sweet."

"Acha, chalo jao. Make me some tea," Her order caught me offguard. I mean she was old and I respected her but I knew nothing about making good tea.

"Aziz bana raha hai." I said lamely, telling her that the cook was making some tea already. She clicked her tongue.

"No no, I want tea from our daughter in law. Go now." She shoeed me away, I had no choice but to walk into the kitchen.

Aunty Shagufta stood in the kitchen, shocked to even see me here since I had only been here twice, just to drink water.

She glanced at me as I stood beside her.

"What happened?" She asked, putting a hand on my shoulder.

"She wants me to make tea." I replied softly.

"Do you know how?" Her question waw polite and I sighed.

"Yeah, I know that much. But even back at home my tea would either be too milky or too strong."

My father used to laugh at my tea. The only thing I was good at was baking. I had always loved to bake with my mother. We would do it every sunday.

Aunty gulped, looking at me as she poured the tea in the cups and put them in the tray.

She handed the tray over to me.

"Here, just say that you made it." She stated, making me frown in confusion.

"But you made it, aunty." I replied. She nodded.

"I did and she won't touch it if she knows. She doesn't like me much." Why not?

As far as I had seen my mother in law, she was kind hearted and sweet.

A little passionate when it came to traditions but not to the extent where it could hurt anyone. She loved her children more than anyone in the world and even though sometimes I didn't like her interference, I respected her.

My own mother interfered in my personal matters, and she was Hassan's mother. She could interfere all she wanted, no matter how annoying it got.

She had the right to do so.

"Oh? Why?" I enquired, holding the tray in my hands.

"Saas hai na. (She's a mother in law) A daughter in law can never be good enough for their son in her eyes." She replied.

Did Aunty think the same way about me too? I bit my lip.

"And me? Am I good enough for your son?" I questioned, expecting an answer.

She smiled, putting a hand affectionately on my cheek.

"You are. You make my son very happy. And I hope he makes you happy too."

He did. He made me so happy. More happy than anyone had ever made me.

I bobbed my head.

"He does. So no complains for me?" I asked, chuckling as she sighed and then laughed on her own.

"No. Bas kaprey chotay pehnti ho. (Just that you wear short clothes." She complained, this time I laughed at her whiny voice.

"My mom says the same." I replied, she patted my back.

"Let's go now, before she starts yelling." With that both of us started to walk back into the living room.

I could hear voices of Hassan's grandfather, it was loud and slow.

"-what is this Corsica Vorsica? Haan? Go for umrah my son, Cancel that trip."

I would have loved nothing but to visit the holy place of Makkah and Madina with Hassan. It was a dream ever since I was a child. To see Allah's house with my life partner.

"Dada abbu, I've already paid for everything." Hassan argued as I handed over tea to Hassan's family.

"Paise ki kami hai tujhe? (Do you lack money?)" He argued back.

Hassan sighed, looking at me as if he was thinking 'why did I even mention Corsica.'

His grandfather noticed his stare.

"Why are you looking there? Haan? Biwi se darta hai? (Are you scared of your wife?)" It was the first time I had seen Hassan so quiet about something he could easily argue.

It was understandable though. You can't argue with the ones you love and respect.

It was amusing to see him so helpless. A chuckle escaped my mouth and he frowned at me, I was enjoying this in a way.

"Listen to me Hassan, go for Umrah." This time his grandmother spoke up. Hassan looked at me, smirking.

"What do you think, Anaaya?"

He put it all on me. I gave him a confused stare but he looked away, a glint of playfulness in his eyes. After trapping me in a difficult situation, he sipped his tea. Ugh.

"Umm," Everyone stared at me, waiting for my response..

I looked at his grand mother.

"Actually Dadi, we've already planned for Hajj this year." We hadn't.

But since Hassan was being a smartass in front of them, I realised it wouldn't be wrong to go for the pilgrimage this year. It would be an honour.

"Masha'Allah. Chalo ye achi baat hai. (This is good) Then go wherever you want." I exhaled a sigh of relief, drinking my tea.

We were all busy in drinking our chai when she abruptly questioned me again.

"So are you pregnant yet?" I choked on my tea, coughing as I felt the air trapped. Hassan patted my back, acting on his quick reflex and helping me go back to normal.

He rubbed my back and I went to my normal state again.

"Are you okay, babe? Hmm?" He questioned with worry in his eyes. I nodded.

"Yeah, I'm fine, I just-" I was taken offguard with that question.. I gave him a look.

"Just say no," He whispered in my ear, asking me to tell the truth.

"No, I'm not."

"Achaa, jaldi se bacha kar lo. (Just have a baby soon) I want to hold a great grand son before I die." She remarked, looking at her husband and then at us.

"Khair abhi meri umar hi kya hai. Pehle to yehi jayeinge Allah ke paas. (Anyway, its not like I'm that old. He has to go first anyway.)"

She grunted, I wanted to laugh.

"Allah apne naik logo ko jaldi bula leta hai na, is liye. (God always calls the pure hearted people back to him)" His grandfather replied.

They started to argue and Hassan and I? We just couldn't wait to get out of here.

"I am so glad we are leaving tomorrow." I whispered in his ear. He squeezed my hand.

"Me too, babe. Me too." 

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