One.
Between what is said and not meant, and what is meant and not said, most of love is lost.
-Khalil gibran
Chapter 1.
The sun rose and shone to it's fullest. The time of Fajar had long gone by and mansion of Shafqat Ali had been engulfed by the clatter and rattle of spoons and plates as the oldest woman prepared breakfast along with the help.
She wiped off the beads of sweat from her forehead as she patted butter on the paratha and called upon her family for early breakfast.
Her voice reached all the rooms in the lower story of the house and the basement. Her three daughters and her husband arrived at the dining table. The girls sat in their respective chairs while their father sat on the chair in the middle that had always been reserved for him.
A few moments later, Azlaan, the third younest arrived and greeted everryone with a salam. The whole family was present at the table. Their hunger calling out for an appetizing meal.
Rania was the youngest daughter of the family, she had been coped up with her board exams for a long time and had one last exam today. Her binge eating clearly showed her stress and nervousness.
Hiba, the second youngest was in college, trying to balance her life between studies and freedom.
Azlaan was the middle child of the family, he had just finished his studies and was now under the guidance of his father, ready to take over the family business.
The oldest daughter of the family was Feriha. She was their only child that had been married to some politician's son. She lived in Karachi and had decided to visit the family during the weekend.
The first born son of the family was Hassan.
"Hassan utha nahi ab tak? (Has Hassan not woken up yet?)" The deep voice of Shafaqat Ali Khan broke the silnce on the dining table as he directed his question to his wife.
"He came back just yesterday, let him sleep." She answered him and he nodded, gulping the steaming hot tea down his throat.
As she saw him eat, she tried to prolong the conversation.
"Aaj aap Hassan se baat kareinge na? (Will you talk to Hassan today?" She questioned. He frowned, a state of confusion taking him over.
"About what?"
"Zeenat. I told you to just ask him once so we can talk to my brother about the marriage." She replied. He looked at her as if she had grown two heads.
"And I told you that I am not going to allow for Hassan to marry inside the family."
The children heard it all in silence as their parents quarelled over Hassan's marriage. He was their oldest brother and every single one of them was protective over him.
"But Zeenat is such a beautiful girl. There is nothing wrong in her."
Their mother defended. The children sighed. Rania was happy, Zeenat was her favourite cousin. While the others thought of Zeenat as a simple traditional girl. Someone who couldn't walk by their brother's side.
"You are right but that does not mean she is perfect for our son." Their father put forth his thoughts.
Azlaan sighed, looking at his parents.
"'Ammi, I think baba is right. Zeenat apa is not Bhai's type." He mumbled. Her mother let out a weird noise from her mouth.
"And what is your brother's type?" She shot back. Azlaan took a sip of his juice.
"Why are you all even discussing his marriage? We all know he hates the subject." Feriha groaned as she butt into the conversation. Her mother rolled her eyes but didn't say anything.
Her husband and their father gulped down some tea and looked at the whole family.
"But he has to marry some day, Zeenat se zyadaa achi larki hai meri nazar main. (I have a girl in my mind who iI find better than Zeenat.)" He announced. All of the children showed full interest in the topic.
"Who?" The mother asked.
"Anaaya." He replied quickly. She gasped.
"Wo Rafeeq bhai ki beti? Kabhi nahi. (Mr Rafeeq's daughter? No.) Never." She denied it straight up.
Her husband developed a defensive state.
"Kya buraai hai us main?(What is wrong with her?)" He questioned.
"Have you seen her clothes? I saw her at Adil's wedding. Kya ajeeb adhe kaprey pehne hue thay. (She was wearing such weird half naked clothes)" She complained.
Rania, who herself was wearing a top without sleeves, loudly groaned.
"Mom, it was just a sleeveless shirt. For God's sake." She said but her mother paid her no heed.
"Zeenat is my choice." Their mother argumented. Her father leaned back onto his chair in a calm demeanour.
"Well, Anaaya is my choice. I don't think there's a girl more suitable for Hassan than her." He responded as if it was the end of discussion.
His wife wanted to say more but before she could protest, Hassan's voice reached her ears.
She turned to look at her son who was still in his night clothes. His eyes were still sleepy but he had still woken up to eat with the family.
"Good morning." He greeted his mother with a kiss on her head and then sat on the seat adjacent to his father.
"Arey, uth gaya mera beta. (Good, my son's awake)" She said and stood up to give him breakfast.
"Yeah mom, can I also have a paratha? I missed it." He asked his mother who ruffled his hair and smiled in awe.
"Ofcourse, beta(Son)." She left to tell the cook about breakfast for Hassan while he looked at his siblings.
"So what were you guys taking about?" He interrogated. They laughed.
"Bhai, It's like you call it upon yourself." Azlaan remarked making him frown in confusion.
"What?" He enquired.
"Hassan, baat to beta shaam main karni thi magar ab tum aa gaye ho to Abhi kar lete hain."(Hassan, my son. Actually I had to talk to you about this in the evening but since we're here already, let's talk.) His father addressed him.
Hassan nodded. In the meantime, his mother had arrived with the breakfast and she placed it in front of him.
"Yes, dad. What is it?" He questioned politely. His father glanced at him.
"Son, you are twenty eight now. You have a career and your life is settled. I think it is the right time for you to think about marriage." His father suggested.
Hassan regretted coming to the dining table already. He wasn't one of those stubborn guys who didn't want to get married. He just thought that he wasn't in the position to give any woman the time of his day.
His days and nights were spent with his clients. His head was always stuck in files and courtrooms. How could he do justice to any girl? A girl who would marry him with certain expectations of her own.
"Dad, you know marriage is something I don't deem good for me. I mean, not right now..anyway." He explained to his father.
His father shook his head.
"Son, you have to marry someday. We can only marry off your sisters after you."
"That's not necessary." He shot back quickly. He didn't want his sisters to suffer because of him.
"No, Hassan. We have always respected your choices and we will not force you but maybe it's time." His mother was the one who spoke this time.
Hassan sighed and looked at his siblings for support.
"Haan bhai. We so want a bhabhi now." He glared at his sister. She shrunk in her seat.
Azlaan was the one to speak this time. He was the only one not afraid of Hassan anyway.
"Don't glare bhai, it's time."
"If you like someone, you can tell us." His mother told him.
It wasn't an immoral thing to like or love someone. What was immoral in their eyes? The hiding of it, the secret affairs and the embarrassment that came with it.
Hassan snorted at his mother's comment. Like?
"Mom, the only women I meet are in their late fourties with their husbands. I'm pretty sure I don't like anyone." He responded confidently.
His mother's demeanour changed suddenly and she looked at him in excitement.
"Good because I like someone that is suitable for you." He groaned loudly.
Why? God! Why?
"Here we go."
He was not in the mood right now. His shoulders felt tense as he heard his mother bring up the same person that she had been bringing up for ages now.
Being a twenty eight year old man, he was constantly in pressure. No matter how old you get, you can never get old enough to make your own decisions in front of your parents.
Hassan had always known he would have to marry soon anyways but he usually flew to London so often that the talk about marriage died before it could even start.
He heard his mother talk all about her niece, about how nice she was, how good she would be for the household. It wasn't that Zeenat wasn't nice or noble, it was just that all his life he had considered her as his younger sister. Now all of a sudden, he was supposed to marry her?
Even the thought made him puke.
"Mother, I have told you a million times and I will tell you again, I am not marrying Zeenat or anyone from our family." His response was cold and distant.
His mother sighed. "Then who do you want to marry?
"Nobody right now." He replied.
His father stood up from the table and Hassan did the same. He patted his son's shoulder.
"Hassan. I have a girl in my mind for you. She's the daughter of my close friend and I think you should meet her."
"Dad, but-" He tried to protest.
"If you don't like her enough..you can say no. I will not pressurize you after that." His father promised.
Hassan tried to come up with an excuse but it was of no use.
So he decided to give it a try.
"Okay. But I can say no and you will respect that."
"Deal."
With that, both the father and son shook hands.
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