Humsafar .

three

Ishq pehlay tha,

Ya aashiq pehlay?

Ayai mashooq tho,

Aashiq pehlay.

Love was first,

Or was the lover first?

As the beloved came, then,

The lover was first.

Chapter 3. 

When I searched for you again, I found you in the depth of my eyes and beat of my heart.

--

Hassan typed furiously on his laptop, fed up with his client's latest problem. How could she hide such a huge thing from him? Knowing damn well what impact it would have.

Now he would have to go back to the court and submit another application, doubling the amount of work and the stress that came with it.

He called up his secretary, Samantha who was back in his London office.

"Samantha, book me a flight for tomorrow." He stated, coming directly to the point.

"I'll ask Waseem to book it for you, Have a good day, Sir." She replied, knowing how short her conversations with her boss usually were.

He sent a few emails and heard his mother call out his name, over and over again.

He sighed.

"Yes, mother?" He questioned, sitting down on the couch placed in the living room.

"Here's your tea." She gave him his mug.

"Azlaan, chai?" She questioned her younger son but he shook his head, claiming he had coke just now.

He glanced at his brother and chose to ignore that he was busy with his work.

"Bhaiiii.." He dragged, calling out his brother's name.

Hassan motioned him to go on.

"Wese bhabhi's very pretty, hmm?" He heard his brother but didn't bother to respond.

Yes, she was beautiful but she wasn't the most beautiful girl he had seen.

"Hmm.." He hummed and went back to researching. Azlaan snorted.

"What hmm? I mean you're very lucky." He mumbled but Hassan still didn't pay much attention.

"Okay.." He shrugged.

His brother made a blank face.

"Stop being so casual, look at her." He put his phone in front of him for a moment, just so Hassan could take a glance and then snatched it away.

"What was that?" He questioned, curious all of a sudden.

"What was what?" Azlaan cross questioned feigning ignorance as if he hadn't just shown the picture of his future sister in law.

"Was that Anaaya?" Hassan enquired with a raised brow.

"Yeah, I added her on my instagram."

His brother nodded, throwing his phone over to him and then reaching the sofa to sit beside him.

"You want to see?" He interrogated but Hassan shrugged, clearly not as interested anymore.

"I'm good."

"Oh, come on. You so want to see what's on her insta, ye lo..dekho. (here you go)" Azlaan put his phone right in front of his face and Hassan had no choice but to take it.

He scrolled a little before going back up and opening the first picture.

"This one's from yesterday. She went to a concert." Azaan informed him.

Hassan smiled at the picture. So little miss Kurta pajama was actually not that traditional.

She looked different from the last time he had seen her. Different, not beautiful. Just different. 

Her caption made him chuckle. Denim on denim on denim. Here he was, in Lahore, sitting with air conditioner on and there she was in Islamabad wearing denim clothing and not feeling hot.

He scrolled a little more when his mother suddenly appeared and frowned at her children.

"Kya dekh rahe ho?(What are you watching?)" She questioned.

Azlaan shook his head.

"Nothing, mama."

"Show me." His mother insisted. Hassan sighed.

"Mom, stop being snoopy." He murmured. His mother got even more curious.

"Show me." She said in a firm voice and Hassan looked at his brother.

"We were just looking at bhabhi's pictures." He stated and then gave the phone to his mother.

"Ya Allah! (My God!), what the hell is she wearing?" Their mother said in utter shock and displeasure.

"Clothes." Hassan replied.

"Ye kaprey hain? (Are these clothes?)She's half naked."

"Stop it, mama. Don't judge someone like that."

Azlaan told her but she shook her head. She hadn't seen anyone wear such bold clothes in her family and she didn't want Anaaya to create a way for the others to do so.

She didn't want her daughters to get influenced from their sister in law. One of them was already too influenced from the west.

"Hassan, tu baat kar us se. (Talk to her) Tell her to not wear such clothes." His mother advised. Hassan gave her a weird look.

"Why?" He asked.

"Because you're her future husband." Her mother stated the fact as if it was the most obvious thing ever.

Hassan rolled his eyes like a brat.

"Mom, I'm busy over here. I have to go to London, tomorrow." Her mother gasped.

"Why? Your wedding is in two weeks, Hassan."

"I know, I'll come back in three to four days. I got work to do." He told his mother in a comforting tone.

"Acha, okay." His mother nodded, going back towards the kitchen after giving the phone back to Azlaan.

"And mom?" Hassan called out for her.

"Yes, son?"

"If you try to stop Anaaya in dressing the way she wants to, you'll also have to stop Rania." Hassan stated, he knew that if he didn't put an end to this, in this moment..then all his life he would have to cope up with the mother vs wife thing.

Anaaya had to respect his mother and her choices and his mother had to do the same.

"Tum toh abhi se uski zubaan bol rahe ho.(You're already speaking her language)" His mother taunted.

Hassan groaned.

"No, mama. It's not like that. I'm just saying that let's not judge someone over her clothes." He declared.

Azlaan butt into the conversation too.

"Haan maa, bhabhi Islamabad se hain. (She is from Islamabad) Wahan sab ese hi kaprey pehnte hain. (Everyone wears such clothes there)"

Women wore modern clothes in Lahore as well but Islamabad was the hub of western influenced clothes.

His mother didn't reply and Hassan took that moment to hand the tea back to his mother.

"Mama, the tea was great. Now, please will you go and pack my bag? I have too much work on my plate or else I would have done it myself."

"Fine,"

That's how Shagufta left the room leaving behind her exasperated children.

--

On the other hand, Ahmad laid across Anaaya's lap. Anaaya would caress his hair at times and then text on her phone.

"So you're actually getting married." Ahmed stated, chuckling. Anaaya took a bite of her Pizza and nodded.

"Yep." She said, popping the P.

"Did you tell your future husband that you're not a virgin?" Anaaya almost choked on her pizza at the blunt question.

She sipped on her coke and then smirked.

"Who says I'm not?" She shot back.

Ahmad raised his eyes at her, getting up from her lap and adjusting himself on the pillow beside her.

"So you're gonna lie about it?" He asked. She shook her head.

"We never had sex." She stated and now Ahmad got it.

So technically she was a virgin after all.

"Yeah, we just sucked and kissed, right?" He said with a scoff but Anaaya just bobbed her head.

"Exactly."

"But seriously, aren't you gonna tell him anything?" He questioned in exasperation.

"Why should I? He hasn't told me anything about his past relationships? I don't think he cares." She murmured out the truth.

They just talked about careers and life and general things like poitics and football.

"Fine, do you guys talk?" He further inquired.

She hummed a yes and then continued.

"Kinda. Just a hi or hello after a few days." Her answer gave him space to ask for more.

"Does he treat you okay?" Anaaya was his best friend. Well, with benefits ofcourse.

"Dude, let me marry him first." Anaaya scowled throwing her fist at his shoulder.

He let out a yelp but suddenly twisted her arm and turned her around, making her fall on him.

She laughed, he put a strand of hair beside her ear and looked at her.

"Can't we like do it one last time before that? It's not really cheating." He whispered, kissing the side of her earlobe.

"Shutup." She said, smacking his cheek lightly.

"Seriously, after your birthday party. For the sake of the past."

Her birthday party was on the weekend.

"Hassan will be there." She informed him.

She had lightly told Hassan about her birthday party one day and how it would be cool if he could come to Islamabad. It would be an opportunity to meet her friends and get to know about her social circle.

Hassan had agreed at that time.

"He will?" Ahmad pouted at the information.

"Yeah, I told him to come and he said sure so yep."

"Pretentious douche." He scoffed rolling his eyes.

"Buzz off." She flicked him off.

"I'm telling ya-" He was about to say something when her cell phone vibrated and Anaaya peeked at it.

Hassan.

"Wait up, it's him." She shushed him and stood up, walking towards the balcony.

"Hey," She greeted.

"How are you?" His voice was firm and it seemed like he was doing some work side by side. The loud typing of the keyboard, a proof of it.

"Good, how about you?" She questioned back politely. He had never really called at this time, he usually called in the evening or at night.

"I'm okay. I wanted to talk to you about something." He started off. Anaaya frowned.

"Yes?"

"I have to go to London for a week so I won't be able to make it to your birthday party. Is that alright?" He asked. She exhaled a sigh of relief for a moment. She thought it was something worse.

At the same time, she felt upset. She had already informed her friends that they would get to meet her fiance soon.

"Umm, there is no way that you can make it?" She questioned hopefully but Hassan sighed.

"It's work, Anaaya." He simply said, not bothering to give any more explanation.

"Fine, Hassan. It's alright." She said in attitude.

If this were any other man, He would have depicted her sassy tone but Hassan didn't pay enough attention to even think that way.

Instead, he simply bid his goodbye.

"Okay, then. Take care." With that, he ended the call leaving behind a confused Anaaya.