Humsafar (Life Partner)

Two.

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Wo kehti hai suno jaana,

Muhabbat mom ka ghar hai,

Tapash ye badgumani ki,

Kahin pighla na de is ko,

Main kehta hoon ke jis dil main,

Zara bhi badgumani ho,

Wahan kuch aur ho toh ho,

Muhabbat ho nahin sakti.

---

She says listen, "oh my lover,"

Love is a house made up from wax,

What if the heat of suspicion melts it all?

I say if there's a little bit of suspicion is in the heart,

Then there might be every thing in that heart

But not love.

Chapter # 2.

"Let me knock, right on your heart..

And when you open the door to it, let me vanish like thin air."



Rafiq house. Islamabad.



ANAAYA

He grinned as he slowly made his way back to her body, kissing his way all the way up. She smiled into the kiss but moved back to look at him.

"So basically they will be here in three hours?" He questioned. She nodded humming as he tugged his teeth over her lips.

"So Miss Anaaya is ready to settle down." He declared snickering. She pushed him off her and sat down, her hair falling down on one side as she adjusted her shirt properly and stood up.

"Dad says I should meet this guy." She told him as she tied her hair in a bun. He stood up too wearing his shirt. They had not gotten any time to talk when he arrived at her place claiming he needed help with some office work.

"And what do you think?" He asked yawning. She smirked.

"Life has been boring as hell lately, thora entertainment ho jayega." She replied with a smile.

Her smile was nervous though.

She looked at him through the mirror and then looked away.

"You'll be fine, Anaaya. Trust me." He assured, suddenly standing behind her with his arms wrapped around her waist.

"Get lost now, I don't have time for your pep talk." She mumbled and yet leaned into his embrace sighing as he kissed the back of her neck.

He opened the door as both of them came back to their normal conditions and he walked away after placing another chaste kiss on her cheek.

Thankfully, nobody was watching.

"Anaaya, where's Ahmad?" She heard her mother's voice and turned around.

"He left." She replied, her mood turning sour as she realised she was to be shown as a decoration piece in two hours.

Well, atleast Uncle Shafqat would be there to lift her mood up.

Her mother instructed her to wear something traditional but she wasn't one to listen. Besides, Uncle Shafqat had seen her in every kind of clothes. Why did it matter? His son shouldn't care about her clothes, but her personality.

She still decided not to rebel and wore a kurta instead of opting for a more western look. She did her daily makeup routine, adding a little more blush than usual..just to spice things up a little bit



She was the only daughter of her family. She was her father's son and daughter. He had never been the one to differentiate between gender. Anaaya would go for car races with her father and cook dinner with her mother. She would wear male sweaters with shorts one day and would wear shalwar kameez the next.

She was the tomboy of her family and yet the girliest girl you could ever meet.

She looked outside the window, the magical view of her city and the mountains of Islamabad providing a sense of contentment to her heart.

She heard the loud noise of a car's horn and looked down. Two cars, a black Civic and a white Audi arrived at the gate as she saw their gatekeeper, Shakoor, open the lock.

She recognized Uncle Shafqat first, his blue Shalwar Kameez and signature cufflinks could be seen clearly from above. His wife, Aunty Shagufta got out of the car at the same time as two other girls.

She didn't know either one of them. She focused on the white Audi, she first saw a man in a black dress shirt and black pants get out of the driving seat. Then, she saw another male, he seemed of her own age..he had a plain Tshirt on. He looked casual.

It wasn't hard for her to guess which one was Hassan. She decided to walk downstairs, she didn't want to do the awkward greeting where she would walk in like a model and see every eye oogling her from head to toe. She thought it was better to greet everyone in the foyer.

Her parents were already stood there, her mother eyed her and motioned her to walk upstairs but her father held her arm and told her to stay.

Both the families met each other. Anaaya greeted Aunty Shagufta and her daughters first.

Uncle Shafqat smiled and looked at her.

"Milo gi nahin Anaaya? (Won't you meet me, Anaaya?)" He questioned playfully, knowing that Anaaya was angry at him.

"Nahi milna maine Uncle, teen mahiney se ek baar bhi baat nahi ki aap ne. Maine call kiya tha aap ko, aap ne pick bhi nahi kiya."

(I don't want to meet you. You haven't called me for three months. You didn't even pick up my phone call.)

Anaaya complained as all of them walked inside the hall.

Hassan was simply observing her while Anaaya was yet to greet the brothers.

"Anaaya. Don't complain, Uncle must be busy na." Her mother defended, she was slightly embarassed.

Mr Shafqat knew Anaaya's nature, not his family. She didn't want her daughter's impression to come out bad.

"Nahi bhabhi, larne dein isko mujhse. (No, no. Let her fight with me) Tell me how can I say sorry, daughter?" He asked her playfully. He always loved talking to Anaaya and had always seen her like his own daughter.

Anaaya made a face.

"It's okay, now. No need to say sorry." She replied with a pout and gave him a side hug while he patted her head affectionately.

As everyone sat on their designated seats and tea was offered, Mr Shafqat decided to introduce Anaaya properly with his family.

"Anaaya, this is Shagufta. My wife, you've met her already. That is my youngest daughter Rania and this is Hiba-" He pointed at his daughters and Anaaya just politely smiled at them.

"That's my son, Azlaan." The one in the Tshirt smiled at Anaaya, he had such a gleeful look in his eyes, she already knew he was the best one out of them all.

"And that is Hassan." As Uncle Shafqat took his son's name, Hassan dropped the conversation he was having with Anaaya's father and looked at Anaaya.

"He's my eldest son." His father completed.

"Hello." Anaaya greeted.

"Salam." He replied.

And that was it. Anaaya got busy in talking to the girls while Hassan kept talking to Anaaya's father.

It wasn't untill an hour when Uncle Shafqat suggested the children go and talk alone. Just to know each other in a better way.

Anaaya gradually stood up and guided Hassan upstairs. He found it awkward that she was taking him to her bedroom. Strange even.

Anaaya switched on the lights to her bedroom and Hassan glanced all around it. It was tidy and neat. The grey and white complimented the room's aesthetic. He noticed a few of her pictures and most of the deep quotes that were printed and framed on the walls.



She walked ahead and opened a door from her room, entering the balcony

Hassan walked beside her and saw that the balcony connected with the terrace, adjacent to the window.

A few chairs were placed there and Hassan decided to sit, so did Anaaya.

She played awkwardly with the hem of her shirt. Ye bolta kyun nahi hai?

She decided to speak up first.

"So..what do you do?" She questioned the first thing that came up to her mind.

Hassan looked up and then at her.

"I'm a corporate lawyer. I used to work at a law firm back in London but now I work alone." He replied.

"So like...Harvey Spectar?" Hassan chuckled as she mentioned the television series.

"You like suits?" He questioned her.

"What's not to like?" Suits was her all time favourite show, if there was one thing she loved the most about it, it was the unflinching confidence of Harvey Spectar.

Hassan questioned her about her life.

"I'm a content writer for Niche Magazine." He raised his eyes, clearly impressed.

Anaaya observed him. She saw the say he sat, the way his back was straight and the way he listened to everything she had to say.

They talked about random things, argued a little about Lahore vs Islamabad. The topic of marriage and being each other's life partners never came up, not untill Anaaya rambled about it.

Hassan visibly stiffened.

"Tell me, what were your thoughts when your parents told you that we were coming?" He cross questioned her.

"Your father and I get along quite well, so even though I was glad he was coming, I'll admit I was a bit nervous too." She answered honestly.

"So you're mentally prepared to get married?" He asked.

Anaaya shrugged.

"There's alot more worse things that can happen. I've seen my parents, their marriage was arranged and even though both have completely opposite personalities, they're still perfect together." She rambled. Hassan listened with all his attention.

He realised it was his time to speak.

"I just think that the kind of life that I live, marriage is not something I can give my hundred percent to." He put forth his thoughts.

"Life's always busy and unpredictable. And marriage isn't a job, or work. It's just a relationship. You know?"

Hassan nodded.

He kept quiet.

"So uncle Shafqat forced you to meet me?" She asked, chuckling. He cracked a smile.

"Well, it was you or my cousin." He replied.

"Gross." She shot back.

"Exactly. Anaaya, I don't want to say things that I don't mean. I'm not the most romantic, neither am I someone who can spend all his day with his wife, you're-" He hesitated but decided to say what he wanted to.

Anaaya didn't have much expectations about romance but she knew that a little skin showing from her side would bring the most cheesy romantic side of him. She trusted herself on that.

Her mother had once told her that both man and wife change alot after marriage, so she would cling to that instead of worrying about this confession.

"You're intellectual and aware, and beautiful-" She smiled. "I have just met you but I know and trust that you will be someone who can walk by my side and be with the kind of people that I am with."

She heard him. She liked him instantly.

"But at the same time, perceptions can be false. I have seen women change with time, i have seen men change as well."

"You're right. Even if we bond instantly, there will always be a hundred layers to us that we will find out with time." Anaaya replied.

Hassan liked the way she didn't blush at his every word and put her own thoughts out.

"So arranged marriage, I have heard that girls of Islamabad are strictly against them." He said, Anaaya chuckled.

"Ah yes. But some Islamabadi girls have always done what they have wanted to do, some decisions, however should also include one's parents."

"You're very attached to my father, I've noticed. Is that the reason why you weren't hesitant to meet me?" Hassan enquired.

She nodded.

"Hassan.." She took his name. "Uncle Shafqat and my father have been best friends for the longest time, he has seen me grow and he has loved me like his own daughter."

She explained.

"On his last visit, he did tell me in indirect words what he truly wanted from me and from his son." Hassan listened to her keenly.

"I laughed it off at that time but then he told me all about you and he said that we both would be lucky to have each other." She mumbled with a smile, suddenly feeling awkward, as if she had said too much.

"My father wouldn't stop talking about you, even in the car he was telling me about some article you wrote that got very famous on social media."

Hassan told her.

"He's as supportive of me as my own father, not every brown dad has the courage to do that." She said.

"Besides, it didn't even get that famous." She added next.

Hassan laughed.

"He can exaggerate." He stated. Anaaya couldn't disagree to that.

"So being a lawyer, is it as good as they show it on suits?"

Hassan shook his head.

"As glamorous but not as simple, it's utter hardwork." He replied.

"And are you keen on working the way you're working or are you going to settle in one place?"

She questioned, she wanted to know his plans and if they would interfere with the plans that she had for her career.

"It depends on the offer really, right now, what I'm doing is best for me. But who knows about the future, I always want to go higher." He said with confidence.

Aaina felt her heart skip a beat.

"Me too. I can't be one of those women who sit at home after marriage, I have too many goals and I have to achieve it all." She told him, she didn't want to hide anything.

If Hassan wanted a stay at home, cook wife, Aaina wasn't it.

Hassan raised his eye, almost impressed.

"I'm glad that you are not." He muttered.

Anaaya didn't feel like she got a direct enough answer so she frowned. Hassan took his phone out, typing something quickly as if he had just sent a text, before he put it back and looked at Anaaya.

"So if you don't have any concerns, I guess I am ready to marry you." He stated.

Anaaya sighed.

"I do, actually. Hassan." He motioned her to speak.

"I didn't really plan on getting married but I've always done what I wanted and my parents have accepted that. This is something that I want to do for them." She looked at him for his reaction but his face gave away no expression.

"And I do think that we can be good together. You're honest and straighforward which is something that I admire but-" Hassan chuckled before Anaaya could complete.

"There's always a but." He said, playfully.

"Hassan, main poori zindagi logo ke liye content writing nahi karna chahti. (I don't want to write for people all my life) I want to open a publishing house of my own or I want to be the editor of some big magazine. I'm career oriented. I just don't want to lose that perspective of my life." She explained.

He understood her. He knew women in this society lost the idea of who they were after marriage. They became too busy pleasing their husbands or their mother in laws.

"I'm not the kind of man who would stop his wife from working or going after her dreams. I mean, it's great." He replied.

"Are you sure? Don't change your mind in the future."

"An honorable man never does that." He assured her.

She nodded.

Was this much enough to decide that she was ready? She didn't know. But her heart and mind agreed that the man was both charming and intelligent, and oh so handsome too.

"Well then, I got no concerns."

She murmured.

And that was the end of it.

So here they were, ready to get married.

But life is just not so simple. Is it?