Muhafiz-E-Khan (Tere Bin MeeraSim FF)

32 - Jhilmil

Murtasim exited Anwar's home office as a new man, confidently taking strides knowing that even though he was disliked, he was owed respect as Meerab's husband. The hallways of the Khan haveli seemed brighter and wider, and then on reaching the opening at the end of the corridor, he saw the crowd in the foyer awaiting news in his characteristicly unbuttoned black shalwar kameez. Sarfaraz was sat with his head bowed impatiently, the contrast day and night as Gul offered consolation, patting his shoulder blade and cooing support. Irtaza stood with his arms crossed in waiting, face cast in a tiredness and Mayi seemed restless, looking over to Yasmin skipping with too much energy in her egg-shell blue frock trailing behind her. The air was fraught with anticipation as Anwar Khan set out their future.

Then, with the noise of Murtasim's footsteps approaching, Sarfaraz's head lifted vigilantly, eager for the news of how he'd be dealt with.

Fierce as a tiger, Murtasim saw eye to eye with a newfound prowess to his stride. ''Aaj se main tera behnoyi. Tu mujhe haath nahi lagaeyga. Aik bhi aur dhamki nahi dougye,'' Murtasim warned in a deep, threateningly modulated voice, having enough of Sarfaraz's baseless threats -- without Anwar mediating, Murtasim would have to lay out his own boundaries. (From today, I am your brother-in-law. You won't hurt me. You won't threaten me.)

At the declaration of Murtasim's new status unfolded, Sarfaraz's eyes widened with disbelief, forehead tightening with frustration. ''Kya kaha tumne?'' Anwar had accepted Murtasim; their relationship grew deeper. (What did you just say?)

While taking two more steps, Murtasim nodded for confirmation. ''Baraat agle hafte laa raha hun. Behtar hoga agar tum bhi kush laggo, teri behen ke liye acha hoga.'' (The wedding procession is coming next week. It'll be in your sister's best interest for you to seem happy.)

''Phupo ki shaadi agle hafte hoegye, hai baba?'' Yasmin chirped cutely, tugging her father's arm as an expression of both excitement and inquisitiveness. (Aunty will get married next week, really baba?)

''Yasmin, baby, shhh,'' Sarfaraz tutted, unable to hide his sour mood.

Murtasim looked to the girl, an echo of young Meerab, with bouncy curls and wide eyes, pools of naive curiosity that eagerly soaked in the new truth of Meerab having a companion, a prince charming. ''Agle hafte, Yasmin. Tum au gye, haina? Tumhari phupo dulhan banneygi, fir main aah kar usse ley jaunga,'' Murtasim explained to Yasmin kindly, words slowed and doused in affection for the kid. (Yes, next week. You'll come? Your aunt will be a bride, then I'll come and take her away.)

''Waapis bhi aah sakthi hai?'' Yasmin requested with genuine concern. (Can she come back too?)

''Of course,'' Murtasim chuckled. ''Who would dare to keep your phupo away from you?''

Whilst clamouring onto the seat beside her father, Yasmin quizzed, ''Fir aur rishte nahin aaengye?'' (Then no more proposals will come?''

''No. Definatley, no more rishte for phupo,'' Murtasim confirmed, affectionately ruffling her hair.

A soft, feather-light gasp was heard and Murtasim instantly turned to the source; the noise belonged to Meerab — he could have recognised it anywhere.

Standing at the top of the stairs was his wife, lip-bitten, hands curling around the bannister for support. She looks down, slightly pale, the angle steep, her heart full at the news of success.

To mellow the wish to keep her close, Murtasim pivoted to hold onto the curling edge of the same bannister, connecting somewhere even if through a medium of wood. He flashed a furtive smile, questioning victoriously, ''Sunna hai, Meerab? Tiyaar rehna.'' (Did you hear, Meerab? Be ready.)

Meerab gulped at the sight of her husband establishing his position. ''Tiyaar rahun gye. Bas tum aana.'' Her trousseau was ready, craving nothing more than to wind her arms into his and call it a day. (I will stay ready. Just make sure you come.)