Dilbar (دلبر) -
Lover
*****
Samaira Baksh has sworn off love. The emotion in itself brought memories that were synonymous with a weak nightmare. For her, love was a forgotten feeling and farthest away from what could be considered...
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*****
After a discussion of what had felt like ages, the day of the wedding had been decided. All the other functions were done in seclusion where only close family members were invited.
Since it was a political wedding, people naturally expected it to be grand. Samaira did not mind the proposition since the previous ones would comfort her enough to tolerate the many unknown faces on the day of her actual nikah.
The day that was today.
They had booked a lavish hotel to move forward with the arrangement. The top 5 floors were entirely reserved for the guests that'd be attending the function. If possible, Samaira had almost turned on her heels when she had seen the sea of people crowding the place from all corners.
Thankfully, the wedding hall was huge- quite literally- and gave her enough space to not feel suffocated.
Just 5 hours were left before the nikah would begin. Samaira had confined herself to her room while her parents and sister kept coming and going occasionally. As of now, a professional hairdresser and make-up artist were assigned to her while her mother kept staring at the dress they had finalised to wear at the wedding again and again.
"Mama, it won't change its color no matter how hard you stare at it."
Zaira comfortingly patted her mother's shoulder as she said the words. Samaira bit back a grin at her twin. Her mother had made a face when she first saw the pale blue dress adorned in silver, golden, and faded blush pink embroidery that Samaira had chosen. Although, after she tried it on, Mahrukh gave it a thumbs up and Samaira couldn't be any happier.
"Oh hush! I'm just making sure it's proper."
"10 times in a row?"
"Maar khani hai mere haato se?"
(Want to get beaten by my hands?)
"Mama!"
Zaira whined at the threat, cleverly making some distance between herself and her mother.
Samaira bit back a wince when the woman pulled her hair a little more than necessary. She got a quick apology and Zaira came to sit beside her, her eyes staring inquisitively at the women that were flocking around Samaira with a hairbrush and uncountable make-up accessories.
"You're fine?"
Zaira's question sounded silly to Samaira's ears. Her morning had been just the same. She was annoyed knowing that her sleep for the day was done. She didn't get much time to process anything after that since her room was hijacked by people not long after she finished her breakfast.
"Mujhe kya hona hai?"
(What's going to happen to me?)
Samaira playfully ruffled Zaira's hair. The latter scowled at her before huffing and getting away from her.
