Nayab, a brilliant and meticulous MBBS student, possesses a mind built for calculations and precision. Her dreams are set on excelling in her medical career, leaving no room for frivolities or romantic distractions. Meanwhile, Danish, a vivacious an...
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Nayab stood at her balcony, watching the workers finish off the decorations of the mandap in the beach that was behind the resort.
"It's happening." She turned to look at Simran who was wearing a bathrobe and was getting her makeup done. "Any cold feet yet?"
Simran nervously giggled. "Absolutely none. I can't wait to be his wife."
Nayab adored how sure Simran was about this marriage and hoped that she'd feel the same way when her time comes.
An incoming call from her brother captured Nayab's attention. She received it and pressed the phone to her ear. "Reached?"
"Yes, in the lobby." He answered.
Nayab quickly hung up and left the room to reach the lobby.
"Bhabhi," Nayab happily hugged Aaliya.
Hamza stood there with a frown, "And what about your brother?"
Nayab just poked her tongue at him. "Did you get your room keys?"
Hamza raised his hand to show the keycard to her.
"Come, let's meet the bride first. Then you can start getting ready." All three got into the lift. They were casually talking when the lift stopped at the next floor and walked in Danish.
Danish looked at Nayab with a faint smile, before eyeing the other two people in slight confusion. The lift doors closed and they were moving upwards.
Nayab cleared her throat to lessen the sudden awkwardness. "Bhai, this is Danish Vaziri, the owner of Felicity, the company who planned the wedding. And Danish, this is my brother, Hamza, and bhabhi, Aaliya."
A hint of recognition flashed in Danish's eyes. "Hello, sir!" He forwarded his hand to shake. "I have heard a lot about you from Nayab."
Hamza shook his hand before narrowing his eyes on his sister. "Have you now?"
Nayab just avoided that look, and thankfully the lift doors opened at another floor. "This is us." Nayab said and quickly walked out. Hamza and Aaliya followed.
"It was nice meeting you, Mr Vazirir." Aaliya politely smiled before the lift door closed, taking Danish with him.
"Is there something I should know?" Aaliya whispered in Nayab's ears as they walked towards the room.
Nayab shook her head immediately. "He is just a friend."
"That is more concerning. A man, that good looking, shouldn't just be your friend." Aaliya retorted.
"Bhabhi," Nayab whined quietly, making Aaliya chuckle.
"And here is our bride-to-be." Nayab said while pushing the door open.
Simran beamed seeing those two and stood up to hug them. "I am so happy you came."
"How could we not come?" Hamza smiled, "We're sorry about maa and papa though. Their schedules were too busy."
"I get it. I understand," Simran shrugged it off.
Hamza and Aaliya stayed for a couple of minutes before leaving for their room to get ready. Nayab, too, got into the shower.
An hour later, a helper was done draping the baby pink, organza saree on Nayab. Then the hairstylist put her into a low bun and added some pink petunia flowers on it. Some of her hair was let out to fall on her hair for an effortless look.
Nayab waited for another half an hour in a different room before someone came to call her. Simran wanted Nayab to be the first one to see her after she got dressed as a bride.
With a sigh, Nayab entered the room and in front of her was her best friend, clad in her bridal attire-looking like the most beautiful bride Nayab had ever laid eyes on.
A sob left Nayab's mouth, and to contain it, her hands flew on top of her lips. "Oh my God, you look unreal." Tears were streaming down Nayab's eyes now.
"Don't cry," Simran choked up, "you'll make me cry as well."
"No, no. Your makeup is too good to be ruined yet." Nayab quickly wiped away her tears. Then the two best friends hugged each other. All the moments of their childhood, their friendship flashed in front of their eyes.
"I am so happy for you." Nayab whispered, her voice breaking.
"I know," Simran sniffed, "I know."
"Girls, I hate to interrupt this but the cameraman is here to take the bride's solos." Someone said from behind, making the girls break the hug.
"Right," Nayab fixed Simran's dupatta before sending her off for the pictures.
The makeup artist said to Nayab, "Ma'am, I think we should fix your makeup."
Nayab looked into the mirror and saw her mascara smudged. "Yes, and please use waterproof makeup." The day ahead was going to be an emotional rollercoaster, and would cause her to shed an abundance of happy tears.
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Along with the other bridesmaid, Nayab reached the mandap where all the guests had reached and the groom was waiting for his bride. The mandap was decorated with a light shade of pink along with blue, purple and white flowers. The gentle sound of waves lapping against the shore provided a gentle background music, and the delicate fragrance from the flowers had mixed with the salty breeze, adding to the magical ambience.
The bridal entry song started after a couple of minutes, and the bride walked down the aisle with her parents by her side. Nayab could feel herself tearing up again. And she was not alone, Angad's condition was no different. Watching the love of his life walk towards him, dressed as his bride, was so overwhelming.
"You look..I can't even find words to describe your beauty rights now." Angad said as he forwarded his hand to her. She blushed and took his hands.
"You cleaned up well as well." She winked.
Two garlands made of white roses were brought to them. They both picked up each and made each other wear it.
Nayab was continuously trying to wipe her tears with her fingers when she felt presence beside her. Danish, dressed in silver colored kurta and white pajama, came to stand beside her.
"Here," He brought out his handkerchief.
She reluctantly took it and carefully dabbed it on her face to avoid ruining her makeup.
"It is not like you don't look good with tears," He leaned closer to her, "but I'd prefer you without them."
She sniffed before glaring at him. "You won't know how it feels."
"I really don't," He retorted, "What is there to cry about? It isn't like she is leaving for another country. She will be in Delhi with you."
She opened her mouth to speak, but he was not done yet. "I mean, if you really want to cry, it should be for someone who will actually be leaving for another country and will never meet you again."
He said that in a joke, but when he saw her expressions change, he immediately regretted it. "Hey, I was kidding, but I am sorry if it hurt you."
She shook her head, "No, it is fine." She wiped another tear that leaked from her eyes. But the string didn't stop. And neither of them knew anymore why she was crying.
Were those tears even happy anymore? She wasn't so sure.
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As I writer, I love sad chapters. Sorry, not sorry.
