Qubool Hai (MeeraSim FF)

61 - Anjaam

Both Murtasim and Meerab nestled on the hospital bed in the aftermath of leaning that their family had grown more than anticipated; grappling the best sort of surprise. Murtasim couldn't help himself from dipping his hand into the oversized basket of jalebis, still slightly warm and ozzing in a sugary syrup, making every loop glisten under the hospital ceiling light.

Meerab whined, ''That's too big,'' as he offered her a piece of the florescent orange confectionary.

''It's for 3 people,'' Murtasim lightly chuckled whilst breaking it into a smaller piece for her, snapping the sweet mess into a bite-sized, Meerab-sized morsel.

''You can't always use that excuse or else...'' Meerab trailed hesitantly, exposing the gnawing taunts within her.

Murtasim's eyebrows arched at the hesitancy in speaking her mind. ''Or else what?'' He feigned not understanding her concern, enraptured in her first trimester glow that made the dimming sunlight elegantly bounce off her full cheeks.

''I'll put on too much weight,'' she huffed lowly whilst looking away, taking a baby bite and savouring the much-enjoyed rush of sugar that seeped onto her tongue. The dupatta had been neatly arranged, her hair brushed through with her fingertips, in an aim for some semblence of looking presentable whilst she waited to be discharged from the hospital.

''Not possible,'' he chimed with upmost conviction, feeding his piece into her mouth too. ''Baraat ke doosre raat pe bhe bata diya tha, Nano ke chath pe, ke tum aise he teek hou,'' he whispered firmly, finding his finger gliding down her wonderfully alluring cheek and past her striking jaw, feeling her velvety skin beneath, with so much attention to every minute detail as if it was the first time. (I told you on the night following our wedding too, on Nano's terrace, that you're fine as you are.)

''Ghar jaake bhe sab mujhe mithai khilaenge,'' she reminded, putting the snacking into perspective. They were blanketed into a cosy serenity, lovingly gazing into each others eyes whilst they stole away minutes in seldom moments of calm. (Everyone will feed me sweets when I get home too.)

''Good. Sab kush honge,'' he replied with a satisfied grin. Both of them ate copious mouthfuls of swirled jalebi, sweetening their mouths and celebrating their little victory, basking in their own little world. ''Besides, you need sugar to recover.'' (Everyone will be happy for us.)

''So why are you eating so much jalebi then?'' She jabbed in a higher cheekier pitch, watching him enjoy the sweet when he was usually so reserved, careful not to over indulge in dessert that could impact his athletic and sculpted physique.

''I need to recover too,'' he assured himself whilst scoffing another mouthful without a second thought, briefly kissing her with a sticky mouth full of jalebi.

''Recover from what?'' she asked past his sugary lips, pulling away. There was a playful undertone to the question, as if he hadn't been through hell too.

''Missing you,'' he smoothly replied whilst his tounge licked her remnants away. ''And it's working.''

Even Meerab couldn't disagree with the notion that the shared moment was a blissful catharisis.

She was soon given a prescription of ointments and informed that a nurse would come to change the bandages on her palms.

Murtasim guided his wife into the wheelchair and strolled her to the suave heavy car, lifting her into the front passenger seat. It was colder than the inside of the hospital, the winter chill swirling around them without remorse.

Deft hands buckled her in as if it were his second nature. ''Zyada dard tou nahi ho raha?'' Murtasim paused standing at her door, adjusting her heavier chador past she shoulders so the cool breeze couldnt tickle her. (Is your body hurting too much?)