A sequel to "Met by destiny." Could be read as stand alone.
"What is written in your destiny, will be yours. What belongs in your heart, will forever be yours."
M I N A H I L S I D D Q U E
A girl living in dreams and books, who's life is surroun...
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I look around the house, fascinated by the modern yet a hint of homely warmth radiating off the walls around here.
Currently we all were seated in a veranda, which was another beauty itself, cushioned seats line up by the parameter of the railing, a crochet swing in one corner and a grill stand in one corner.
This place was perfect for a barbecue night.
After dinner, Farhan insisted that I stay a bit longer with him for sweets, his dad started talking and that talking lead upto relatable stories from everyone, a round of tea, and more talking.
Ayesha left halfway as it was her sleeping time and she was said a strict bed rest. Farhan went to help her, while his son dozed off in his grandmother's lap.
Minahil reassured Farhan she will tuck him in after sometime.
One thing I noticed today was Minahil really cared about her nephew and treated him like a mother. As the saying sibling's child is your first child.
I could relate because I was the same with Aly, I used to be tired from the long hours of lectures and jobs but still kept my tradition of narrating her bed time stories. Even now, despite the time difference, I call her and say a story to her then only she would sleep.
Distracted in my thoughts I didn't notice Minahil walking towards the exit until I feel hot liquid pouring down on my arm.
She gasps looking at the hot coffee stain on my shirt sleeve, I keep my coffee cup down and hold my arm.
"I am so sorry, Dr. Khanzada." Minahil whispers with Ahad asleep in her arms. She stares at the cup of coffee in her hand which she knocked over on me with guilt.
"Careful Mina! Look what you did! Are you okay beta?" Her mom asks approaching me.
I nod my head, holding my arm, "I am fine, aunty please don't scold her."
"You are not too hurt, are you son?" Her father asks looking at my arm.
"I am fine, the coffee wasn't even that hot." I defend. "It just needs a little wash up, that's it."
"Mina," her mothers says, "Show him washroom upstairs."
"Yes, please Dr. Khanzada." She whispers again and guides me to walk in front of her, "This way please."
I follow her upstairs, she shows me a washroom and I wash my shirt sleeve, washing it until the stain lightens up.
Minahil says she will be back after tucking Ahad in his bed and returns back ten minutes later with a towel in her hand.
After being satisfied the stain is gone, I take the towel from her and wipe my arm.
"I am so sorry Dr. Khanzada," Minahil says, her voice coating with guilt, "I hope your arm is not burnt."
