Mehmal bought every single item for the house according to her taste. When Zaryab was asked for his opinion, he simply provided it. Together, they transformed the flat into a beautiful home. Everything was stunning, and everyone who saw it admired the decor.
Zaryab initially had a cook and maid, but Mehmal dismissed both and hired a servant who didn't know how to cook but could wash dishes, make roti, boil rice, and prepare breakfast.
The flat was in one of the most expensive areas. The terrace offered a beautiful view of the Margalla Hills. Zaryab and Mehmal often sat there, drinking coffee from the same cup. She would nestle in his arms, and he would play with her hair. This became their routine after dinner.
During the first month, they attended all the dinners hosted by relatives, friends, and colleagues. They moved into the flat a week later, furnished with money from their wedding gifts.
"Tell me, Zaryab, what do you want to eat?" Mehmal asked from the kitchen as she loaded the dishwasher. Zaryab was adjusting paintings on the lounge wall. "Depends on what you can cook," he replied. Mehmal came out of the kitchen. "Almost everything. If there's something I can't make, don't worry; Food Fusion is here," she said. Zaryab laughed.
"Then Dal Roti my favorite, " he said Mehmal smile dropped she is not a good cook but she can almost cook everything she knows because of her mother.
"Then dal roti, my favorite," he said. Mehmal's smile faded. She wasn't a great cook, but she could manage most dishes, thanks to her mother.
"That can't be made," Mehmal said sadly. Zaryab thought for a moment. It was the easiest dish.
"Dal is easy," he commented. Mehmal sat on the sofa. "Dal is not the problem," she said. "Then?" he asked. "Roti," she replied.
"You don't know how to make roti? It's okay. I don't need perfect round ones; I can eat them in any shape, even if they look like the map of Pakistan," he joked. She rolled her eyes. "Very funny. I know how to make roti," she said.
"Then what's the issue?" he asked. "The dough isn't prepared, and I don't know how to make it," she admitted, embarrassed. He laughed.
"My wife can cook everything, and her husband knows how to make the dough. Perfect match," he said, pinching her cheeks to cheer her up.
"Really? You know how?" she asked, astonished. He nodded.
"Who do you think cooked for me in Australia?" he said and walked to the kitchen, Mehmal following behind. Soon, they were both in the kitchen with a flour mixture.
"Just a little water, not too much, and mix it with your beautiful hands," he instructed. She tried but couldn't get it right. Finally, Zaryab stepped in. He stood behind her, helping her. "No, like this," he said, intertwining his hands with hers, and they mixed the dough together.
After lunch, they continued decorating the house. Mehmal brought in plants, as she had a hobby of gardening.
"See, Zaryab, aren't these beautiful?" Mehmal said. Zaryab looked out from the lounge. The beautiful vines and plants on the terrace, combined with the view of the Margalla Hills, made it breathtaking.
Six months had passed since their wedding, and their love was unconditional. Mehmal became good friends with the wives of Zaryab's colleagues. During Eid at Mehmal's in-law's house, she looked gorgeous in her peach dress, and Zaryab in his navy blue kurta shalwar.
"Mehmal, you should have come for Chand Raat. I would've put henna on your hands," Sana said, looking at Mehmal's hands. All the cousins were sitting outside on the lawn.
"Ask your Bhai. I told him to take me to your salon, but it was crowded, so I left early. He was waiting outside and didn't allow me to take the car by myself," Mehmal said. Zaryab rolled his eyes. They were all eating BBQ, and Mehmal was eating from Zaryab's plate.
"It's her first Eid in Pakistan. Tell her, guys, why I didn't let her go out alone," Zaryab said to his male cousins.
"Zaryab Bhai did the right thing. It was Chand Raat, with idiots roaming around," Mujtaba said.
"She fought with me. I bought a mehndi cone for her," Zaryab said.
"Yeah, but what will I do with the cone? I don't know how to use it," Mehmal interrupted. "But I didn't design badly," Zaryab said, showing the design to Sana. "Did I?" he asked Sana, who gave a sympathetic look to Mehmal.
"Honestly, Bhai, I can make a better circle than yours," Mujtaba commented. "Didn't you guys see the hard work? I've never used such things before. Plus, you can't draw a straight line, so how will you draw a circle?" Zaryab defended himself.
Everyone laughed at the terrible design, but Mehmal didn't object when Zaryab insisted on designing it. It took him an hour to find a simple design, and finally, he drew a circle and wrote his name below it. Mehmal laughed at his effort. "Why your name?" she asked. He shrugged, "What could be a better design than having your husband's name on your hands?" She laughed then, and she was laughing now, remembering it again.
"Go bring more BBQ for me," Mehmal said, and like an obedient husband, he did. He knew she loved BBQ.
Soon, their elders joined. "Zaryab beta, when are you giving us good news?" It was Zaryab's aunt. Mehmal blushed, embarrassed.
"Soon, really soon, just after my boss returns from vacation," Zaryab replied. Everyone looked at him in shock and then laughed. Mehmal was even more embarrassed.
"Zaryab, she means making us grandparents, not your promotion," Zarmeena Sahiba said angrily. "Oh," Zaryab replied, "Actually, everyone was asking about the promotion, so I thought..." he trailed off in embarrassment.
When they returned to their room, Mehmal was changing channels on the TV, her aunt's words still in her mind. They were staying at Zaryab's parents' home. When Zaryab returned with a cup of coffee, he smiled at her.
They sat together, watching a random show on TV. Zaryab was massaging her hair. She took a sip from his cup. "Zaryab, do you like kids?" she asked. Zaryab understood it was because of today's conversation.
"Yes, but not now," he said. Mehmal lifted her head. "Why not?" she asked. "Mehmal, we recently married. Don't you think we should give each other some time?" he said. She looked into his eyes and shook her head. "I want kids," she said more as a demand.
"Mehmal, come here, I'll explain," he said, extending his arms, but she pushed them away. "I want it," she insisted. Zaryab realized she had become like any other wife, influenced by others' comments. He smiled and extended his hand. "Okay, whatever you want," he said. Mehmal smiled and rested her head on his chest.
***
YOU ARE READING
Mehmal
Romance"I'm taking another wife." Mehmal's heart shattere. Zaryab insisted that he still loved her and that he would treat them both equally. However, Mehmal was adamant: "I don't want this," she replied. Zaryab, holding both of her hands, insisted that h...
