CHAPTER ONE
1396 Words
"But those who committed misdeeds and then repented after them and believed – indeed your Lord, thereafter, is Forgiving and merciful.”
-Surah al-Araf, 7:153.
***
|ONE YEAR LATER|
"Ayra, Baba wants to see you in his office. Let's go." Wali calls from downstairs.
"Okay, let me just quickly wear my hijab." I shout back.
Once I had donned on my hijab, I checked my reflection in the mirror and a smile lit up my face. Although I used to wear a hijab from the beginning, it was only after the occurrence of some 'events' that I realised the real purpose of it.
It was a sort of declaration that you had submitted yourself to the will of God. That you were willing to go to any length to please him. And that your beauty was not for everyone to see.
With a last glance to my reflection in the mirror, I head downstairs and slide into Wali’s Chevrolet Cruze.
As I gaze out of the window, a memory sparks to the surface of my mind.
|FOUR MONTHS AGO|
I held my baby girl in my arms and looked at her lovingly. It was so strange a concept to grasp that one minute there was nobody and the next, there was a child. Your very own child.
The birth itself hadn’t been an easy one. I had to get a C-section done which made my entire body ache. As if someone had swung constant blows at me.
Still, the most important thing was my daughter.
A blanket encased her small form. Her slightly tan skin and big hazel eyes made my heart almost burst with love. It hadn’t even been a minute and I was already gushing over my baby; I wondered what it would be like, a few years from now.
I couldn’t help but notice how much she resembled her father. Those eyes were clones to his. If anyone ever looked at the two of them, they would immediately be able to tell that they are father and daughter.
Thinking of Sam, made me think of all the sins I committed. The darkness that I had intentionally plunged myself into.
My eyes welled up when I realised that I didn't deserve this beautiful girl. Taking a gander at my family, I noticed how emotional they had become, staring at the new member with affection.
They knew that whatever I did wasn't the baby's fault, so they were treating her like any family would treat an infant. Like grandparents would treat their firstborn grandchild.
My brother looked at her like a . . . father. It threw me off-guard for a moment before I recovered.
"Wali?" I called out, my voice steady despite the pain I felt.
He stepped forward, eyebrows raised in a questioning fashion and waits for me to continue.
I angle Maha outwards for him to hold. He happily takes her into his arms and stares at her tenderly.
"She's yours, Wali. I give her to you for care taking."
He looked stunned at first but then smiled dazzlingly. I'd never seen him so happy before. I was glad I took that decision.
|END|
I enter Baba's luxurious office. He looks at me from above the rim of his glasses and ushers me to come forward. We share Islamic greetings and I sit down.
"What did you want to talk to me about, Baba?" I question, wondering what's wrong.
He sets down the file that he was working on prior to when I came and steeples his fingers, resting them on his desk.
"Ayra, you know that I would never ask you to do something that's bad for you, right?" He asks on a smile.
I nod sluggishly, worrying where this is going.
"There's a proposal for you. Now, I haven't met the guy in person since he’s residing in the UK currently, but I know his parents and they're good people. Rohaan, their son, is coming back to Pakistan now to handle his father's business. You know khan enterprises don't you?"
Of course I know that company. The owner of that company is practically a billionaire.
"His dad wants him to settle down here. So he asked for your hand in marriage." He studies me. "Will you agree to it?"
Marriage doesn’t exactly seem like the perfect idea at the moment but I’m not surprised that he wants me to. Hell, my mother is practically running after me all day; showing me this guy and that guy.
But up until now I hadn’t realised how much they wanted to see me married off and happy.
"If you ask me to get married to him, then I will. It's all your choice, Baba." I say, without thinking twice.
A smile as bright as the sun itself greets me then. Baba looks like I’ve given the world to him.
"Okay then, Ayra. You can go now, take care of Maha." He practically bounces while taking his phone out.
I walk to him, press a light kiss on his cheek and step out of the office. Right when I close the door, I hear Baba’s loud voice echoing with enthusiasm and happiness; no doubt calling Uncle whatever-his-name-is.
With that, I head to the car and relay the whole exchange to Wali. He’s as thrilled by the news as Baba, if not more.
***
After dressing up in comfy clothes, I head downstairs, eager to reunite with my baby. I knock on Wali's door and he opens it up with a smile.
With every passing day, I feel the relationship with the members of my family rebuild and strengthen. The past -although not forgotten- forgiven.
"Where is Maha?" I chirp, somehow in a good mood.
"On the bed. Come on in."
I enter his room and ogle my baby girl. Thousand feelings of warmth flurry in the pit of my belly.
She's sleeping. Well, since she's only three months old, she's always sleeping. But, I could stare at her for years and still not get tired.
"You can take her upstairs. Spend time with her and . . . well, you know." He flushes and looks away.
I hold back a chuckle. A full grown male and shy about a small thing like breast-feeding? Shocker.
"Thank you." I manage and haul Maha up in my arms, resting her small head on my hand and wrapping my other arm around her back of her small, delicate body.
"You don't have to thank me for holding your own daughter." Wali responds with disapproval.
I stop.
"Wali?"
"Hmm?"
"Baba wants me to get married soon but how will I live without Maha?”
He offers me a brotherly smile; the kind that a sister wants to be looked at like when she’s five, not twenty freaking four.
"So, take her with you." He suggests.
Like that’s even an option. Nobody in our family knows about Maha’s existence. Now, while that sounds absurd -because, really, how can you hide a living person’s identity- we’ve taken measures to ensure that no one even hears about her.
And, to be blunt about it, it’s not like my husband-to-be will be a nice- he’s a billionaire, for God’s sake. I’m quite skeptic about whether or not good men still exist.
Answering Wali, I say, "No man would want to live with a child that does not belong to him."
***
Wali hops into my room, his face lit up with excitement.
"Ayra, Baba is saying that he and Uncle Arif have decided that you will get married to Rohaan two weeks later!" he says zealously.
I try to plaster a smile. Yay for me.
"That's good!" Right. Fake enthusiasm. Awesome.
"I know! Mama wants me to take you shopping, so let's go!" Eagerness mars his words.
"Wali, can Maha come with us?" I ask, rising from the sagging depths of the sofa.
I've actually never been shopping with my little girl.
He shrugs.
"Sure, no problem."
"Okay!" This time I don't fake my excitement. "Let me just change."
"Don't take more than ten minutes." he warns.
"We'll see about that." I smirk.
- Writer
