𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬

1

 Arsalan POV:

The sound of my phone ringing wakes me up. I accept the call after seeing that Amma Jaan (grandmother) is calling.

The phone call conversation:

Arsalan: Assalamualikum, Amma Jaan!
(Peace be upon you, Grandma!)

Amma Jaan: Walikumussalam, beta!
(Peace be upon you too, son!)

Arsalan: Kaisi hain aap?
(How are you?)

Amma Jaan: Haan, main toh theek hoon, Allah ka shukar hai. Tum batao kaise ho?
(Yes, I am fine, thank God. How are you?)

Arsalan: Main theek hoon.
(I'm fine.)

Amma Jaan: Abhi uthe hoge. Wahan subah hogi. Yahan toh hum log sone ja rahe hain.
(You must have just woken up. It must be morning there. Over here, we're about to go to bed.)

Arsalan: Ji, abhi utha hoon.
(Yes, I just got up.)

Amma Jaan: Acha beta, tum India zara jaldi aa sakte ho kya?
(Okay, son, can you come to India a bit early?)

Arsalan: Kyun?
(Why?)

Amma Jaan: Aray, tumhe woh Aasim pata hai jo Airah ke liye rishta lekar aaye the.
(Oh, you know that Aasim who brought a marriage proposal for Airah?)

Arsalan: Haan, pata hai.
(Yes, I know.)

Amma Jaan: Haan, unse Airah ki shaadi ki date fix ho gayi hai. Isliye main keh rahi thi ke thoda jaldi aa jaana. Tumhare bina shaadi toh nahi ho sakti na.
(Yes, her wedding date with him has been fixed. That's why I was saying, come a little early. The wedding can’t happen without you, right?)

Arsalan: Acha, acha.
(Alright, alright.)

Amma Jaan: Haan thik hai, waise bhi tumhari bohot close cousin hai woh.
(Yes, alright, after all, she’s a very close cousin of yours.)

Arsalan: Amma, woh meri close cousin nahi hai. Chudail hai woh, chudail ek number ki.
(Grandma, she’s not my close cousin. She’s a witch, a top-class witch.)

Amma Jaan: Acha baba, ab toh bechari ki jaan chhod do.
(Okay, fine, now leave the poor girl alone.)

Arsalan: Haan, thik hai. Kal parso ki flight dekh kar aata hoon.
(Alright, I’ll check for a flight for tomorrow or the day after.)

Amma Jaan: Haan beta, dekh lo. Chalo phir Allah hafiz.
(Yes, son, check for one. Alright then, goodbye.)

Arsalan: Allah hafiz.
(Goodbye.)

Airah is 6 years younger than me but acts like she's 6 years older.

"Chalo acha hai shaadi ho rahi hai uski. Jaan toh chuti meri," (Well, it’s good that she’s getting married. Finally, I’ll be rid of her.) I murmur as I check flights for tomorrow.

The next day

I arrive at our mansion. The servants take my luggage to my room. Everyone is waiting for me at the front gate. Amma Jaan hugs me and gives me lots of duas (blessings). I then meet my other three cousin brothers.

"At last tu aa hi gaya," Yasir says, hugging me.
(At last, you finally came.)

"Kya karu, aana toh pada. Is chudail ki shaadi hai. Jaan chhuti meri ye khushi manane aana pada," (What can I do, I had to come. It’s this witch’s wedding. I came to celebrate my freedom from her.) I say, pointing towards Airah, who rolls her eyes dramatically and whispers something to Hiba, Iqra, and Talbiya, then they all start giggling.

The next afternoon

"Mila tu Airah ke in-laws se?" Yasir asks as he sits in a comfortable position beside me on the bed.
(Did you meet Airah’s in-laws?)

"No," I reply.

"Go, you should meet them. They are downstairs," Ziya says.

"Why did they come again? The marriage date is already fixed, right?" I ask.

"Don't know, they must be having some issues," Tariq says. "Wait, I'm coming," I say as I jump off the bed to meet my new guests.

I walk downstairs to see a middle-aged lady sitting on the sofa with a guy who must be the same age as Airah. Must be her fiancé. I walk over to them and notice that only Airah is sitting with them. "Assalamualikum," I say. But both mother and son don’t look at me; they just keep talking to Airah. Well, that is very rude.

I sit on the sofa beside the guy. By his dressing, I can tell he’s a total nerd, with his buttoned-up blue checked shirt, skinny jeans, green sports shoes, and hair slicked to the side. Whoever sees him would only say one thing: Champu. What is he? Mama's boy?

"Aapka naam?" I ask.
(Your name?)

"Aasim," he replies.

"Acha, good. Well, I'm Arsalan Ahmed." We don't talk for a while, then I say, "Waise is ladki mein aapko pasand kya aaya?"
(By the way, what did you like about this girl?)

"Mene nahi pasand ki hai, mummy ne ki hai," he replies.
(I didn’t choose her; my mom did.)

"Lekin aapko itni toh samajh honi chahiye. Shakal se Shaitan dikhti hai aur mashallah harkatein bhi waisi hi hain," (But you should have some sense. She looks like a devil, and her actions match, mashallah.) I say, looking at Airah, who is glaring at me while answering her soon-to-be mother-in-law. Aasim looks at me like I have grown six more heads. I sigh, get up, and go back to my room because this guy wouldn’t understand.