Aangan is the compelling prequel to Sharar, centred on the older generation of the Khan family. It explores the lives of the Khan brothers and their sister, each navigating the complexities of love, duty, and family values.
Huzaifa Khan, the eldest...
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The morning held a soft serenity, with a touch of winter’s crisp chill wrapped around it. A low amber sun began its climb over the horizon, casting a warm, golden light that softened the cold edges of the December day. Mist floated lazily above the ground, threading through the garden. In this gentle light, Naziya and Azlan prepared to depart.
"Kuch din aur ruk jaiye, shadi ki wajah se apke sath toh theek se baat hi nahi kar paye." Mahajbeen held Naziya’s hand, her voice laced with both warmth and a lingering reluctance.
(Please stay a few more days. With the wedding, I didn't even get a proper chance to sit and talk with you,)
Nearby, Rubab stood shyly with her gaze lowered, appeared ethereal in her light blue shalwar kameez. Her skin held the natural freshness of youth, her cheeks rosy from the cold, and her deep, dark lashes framed eyes that still glimmered with the remnants of sleep. Having just woken up, she had only splashed water on her face when Ayesha had pulled her out, urging her to greet her future mother-in-law before their departure. The faint lines of her unstyled hair cascaded down her shoulders.
Outside, the sounds of morning bustle blended with the crisp rustling of dry leaves, as Raza helped Azlan load luggage into the car.
Naziya smiled gently. "Bhabhi, bohot din ruk gaye hum, ghar pe sab intezar kar rahe hain. Darasal Rukhsar abhi nayi hai, itni zimmedari nahi sambhal pati."
(Bhabhi, we’ve stayed long enough, everyone at home is waiting for us. Rukhsar is still new, and she can’t handle so many responsibilities yet.)
"Aap fikar na karein, ab toh hum bohot jaldi chakkar lagayenge, humari amanat jo apke paas hai." Gesturing towards Rubab, Naziya said.
(Don’t worry. We'll be coming here often now; after all, our precious one will be with you.)
"Hume intezar rahega," Mahajbeen smile warmly, as her gaze rested on her daughter.
(We’ll be waiting,)
Naziya then turned her affection to Rubab. "Chalte hain, beta. Apna khayal rakhna, aur achhe se paper dena. Allah apko kamyabi de." Her hands cupped Rubab’s cheeks, offering a heartfelt prayer that Rubab deeply needed since she had barely studied amidst the chaos of Anisa’s wedding.
(Take care, dear. Do well in your exams. May Allah grant you success.)
"Aunty? Rishte mein hum apki phuppo lagte hain." she corrected, clearly disliking the impersonal term “Aunty,” preferring the warmth of native titles like Khala, Chachi, mami or Phuppo.
(Aunty? By relation I'm your phuppo.)
She went on, "Lekin itne durr ke rishte se behtar hai aap hume ammi bulaye, hume achha lagega." Her smile deepened, and Rubab’s cheeks reddened slightly as she nodded, agreeing.
