Chasing Heart

🩺 | Patience | 🩺

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*

Iman

"Stay home." I pleaded with Taif.

"Iman, I really can't." He looked guilty as he placed his hands on my shoulders. "But don't worry, everything will be fine."

"No, it won't! If she insults my parents, I will not hold myself back, Taif. I can tolerate a lot, but that is one thing that I won't tolerate!"

He looked like he was in a dilemma, as he stood with his hands on his hips, staring out of the window. After a few moments, he finally broke the silence, "Iman, my parents will handle it, okay? But I can't stay home." He grabbed his laptop bag and walked up to me. "I'm sorry, Iman. You know the pressure of this job very well." He kissed my cheek and headed out of the room. "I'll speak to Ammi Jaan before I go. Allah Hafiz." He closed the bedroom door behind him as he left.

Taif was good, so good that I felt guilty even thinking negatively about him, but I really didn't appreciate how he dismissed my concerns so casually like that. Fine, he had to get to work- I understand that. But there's no need to patronise me, like I'm just a child being sillly.

I took a deep breath. Well, let's just pray that by some miracle Ghazala Phupho behaved herself.

*

I helped my mother-in-law fry the samosas and kebab, while Uncle went to the shop to buy some soft drinks and other snacks. I'd offered to go, but he had insisted that he would be fine.

"What else?" Mrs Bukhari looked thoughtful.

"This is enough, Aunty." I insisted.

"Beta, aap ki shaadi ke baad pehli dafa aapke Maa Baap aa rahe hain. Kuch acha bandobast to hona chahiye na." She smiled.

*"Dear, after your wedding, your parents are coming for the first time. We need to make good arrangements."

"Why don't you go and see if anything needs to be tidied up in the living room, and I will finish off here?" She suggested.

"Sure." I washed my hands and headed into the living room. For a second I just stood there, staring at the small, almost cramped space. Oh, shut up, Iman. This is home. Be grateful. I began to tidy things: adjusting sofa cushions, moving mine and Taif's medical books onto the narrow bookshelf in the corner, and straightening the coffee table. We'd already hoovered and dusted the furniture earlier.

"Iman, dear, go and get ready."

"Yes." I wondered where Ghazala Phupho was. The house was too quiet. Who cares? I shrugged and headed up the stairs.

Upstairs was a very narrow hallway, with the bathroom door right on the landing. Next to it was our bedroom, and then my parents-in-law's room.

I frowned as I approached the top of the stairs. I had closed my bedroom door, but it was open now. I approached it and pushed it open, my eyes widening.

Ghazala Phupho was standing by my dressing table, looking at my perfume bottles and make-up.

"What are you doing in my room?" I asked, quietly.

She looked at me, unbothered. "We never used to question our elders about anything back in our days." She had the audacity to pick up one of the bottles and spray it on herself.

"Well, the elders in my family don't go into a married couple's bedroom behind their backs." I couldn't stop myself.

She eyed me critically, and walked towards me. "Why Taif?"