Mehmal

Chapter 45

Zaryab had come home early from the office, well before the Mayun ceremony began, to assist Hamad. This was the bond between uncle and nephew; they always supported each other as much as possible, despite Hamad's differences with Zaryab over Mehmal. After all, Zaryab was the eldest cousin and the family's Ladla.

Zaryab looked around. The guests had all arrived. Sania was there, but Mehmal had not yet appeared.

There was nothing to say, and he couldn't predict anything. Just seeing her was enough for him. He remembered how she used to get ready in front of him for every event. He liked it, and she seemed to enjoy it too, especially in her traditional Pakistani wedding attire.

Finally, the door opened. Zaryab's feet faltered as he glanced toward it. Mehmal entered, holding a basket. She wore a mustard-colored dress. Her dupatta, intricately embroidered, was draped gracefully over her entire body. Her shirt and shalwar were simple, with only the bottom of the shalwar embellished. She had always been different, and she remained so—simple and elegant.

Not only Zaryab but everyone else noticed her. It wasn't just her personality that had changed; her sense of style had evolved as well. Her head wasn't covered, but her attire was chosen with such thoughtfulness that anyone who saw her would look at her with admiration and respect.

Zaryab's gaze remained fixed on her. She hurried towards Hamad Mamu, and after greeting him, she went upstairs to meet Sana. Zaryab smiled. At least tonight, with her image in his mind, he would be able to sleep peacefully.

When he looked back, Hamad was standing nearby, observing him. Zaryab quickly cleared his throat and hid the smile playing on his lips. He sniffed. "I just came to check on the arrangements. Let's gather everyone for dinner..."

"I've seen shameless people, but none quite like you," Hamad remarked. Zaryab smiled. "Well, now you have," Zaryab replied, to which Hamad shook his head, disappointment written on his face.

"Disgusting. I saw how you were staring at my niece. Shameless man," Hamad said, raising his eyebrows in disapproval.

"My wife," Zaryab corrected him.

"Hunh?" Hamad asked in confusion.

"Not your niece. I was looking at my wife. It's Sunnah to look at your wife with love and affection. Don't you look at Mami that way?" Zaryab retorted. Hamad shook his head.

"I know what you're trying to do. But Zaryab, it's better to leave her alone. Stop disturbing her. You two are going to separate, and then she will marry another man..." Zaryab cut him off before he could finish the sentence.

"Don't, Mamu. She is my wife. You, of all people, should not associate her name with a na-mahram or another man. We're not divorced yet," Zaryab said firmly. Their argument was abruptly halted when Zaryab noticed someone descending the stairs, carefully holding a dupatta. Mehmal grasped one corner of the dupatta, while her cousins held the other corners, bringing Sana down beneath it.

Mehmal performed the first rites (Rasam), which upset Zaryab's aunts. "Why isn't Anaya here? It's her right to do what Mehmal is doing. She's soon getting a divorce, but she shamelessly attends the wedding," one aunt remarked. "Anaya came to me. I told her that even Mehmal accepted the marriage sooner than later. Zaryab will leave this foreign girl. Women like her can't maintain a home. You should have seen her at weddings—she wore sleeveless, backless dresses. Tsk. On what grounds is she doing the Rasam?" The aunts continued their discussion, while everyone, including Sania, overheard their conversation. Only Mehmal, seated on the stage, seemed unaware.