"Aray, sambhal ke!"
(Whoa, watch it!)
I jolted back to reality as I collided with something solid, nearly dropping the container of Rogan Josh. Strong hands gripped my shoulders, steadying me as the rich, aromatic curry teetered dangerously in my grasp. Looking up, my heart raced to see a tall figure with dark eyes peering down at me. He was dressed in stylish, modern clothing, completely out of place here in our village.
"Mujhe sambhalna aata hai. Aap raste mein kyun khade hain?"
(I can handle myself. Why are you standing in the way?)
He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Maybe I was just trying to avoid a disaster. You almost dropped that."
I shot him a glare, irritation bubbling up inside me. "Well, I didn't need your help, city boy."
His lips curled into a smirk. "City boy? That's rich coming from someone in a traditional pheran. But fine, you handle it."
I narrowed my eyes at him, my heart pounding. "And maybe you should watch where you're going instead of blocking the path like a wall."
He crossed his arms, not fazed at all. "Touché. But just so you know, I'd rather not be responsible for ruining your family's dinner."
"Why do you care?" I shot back, trying to push past him, but he stood firm, clearly enjoying our little back-and-forth.
"Because I can appreciate good food, and I wouldn't want to see it wasted."
I turned my back to him, irritation flaring. "Well, you can go appreciate your good food somewhere else. I don't need your commentary on my village."
As I walked away, I heard him chuckle behind me, the sound a mix of annoyance and something that felt like intrigue. I didn't want to engage with him any longer; I had to deliver this food to Aunty Sayeda. Yet, despite my efforts to focus, his voice rang in my ears.
"Are you always this fierce?" he called after me.
I turned around, my cheeks flushing. "Only when I'm dealing with annoying strangers."
He stepped a little closer, his expression shifting to one of curiosity. "I'm just exploring, you know. It's not every day I get to visit a place like this."
"Well, you can go explore somewhere else," I retorted, my heart racing with a mix of irritation and unwarranted interest. "I don't need your commentary on my village."
He leaned back slightly, a teasing glint in his eyes. "You know, you're not very friendly for someone living in such a beautiful place."
I bristled at his comment. "I didn't ask for your opinion on my friendliness. Besides, you've only just arrived. What do you know about me or my home?"
"I know enough to recognize a strong-willed girl when I see one," he replied, his tone teasing but oddly respectful.
Just then, I heard a familiar voice calling from a distance. "Jannat! Kahan ho tum?!"
(Jannat! Where are you?!)
My heart sank slightly as I turned my head. It was Hira Baji, looking for me. I had to go. I glanced back at the stranger, who was watching me with a mix of amusement and intrigue, and I couldn't shake the feeling that there was something about him I couldn't quite understand.
"That's my sister," I said hastily. "I really need to go."
"Right," he said, stepping back as if to let me pass. But before I turned away, he called out again, "Hey, wait! Can I at least know your name?"
I hesitated, my feet almost moving instinctively. "Why do you care?"
"Because you seem like an interesting person to know," he said, and for a fleeting moment, I could see sincerity in his eyes.
I shook my head, trying to dispel the thoughts that were beginning to swirl in my mind. Who was this guy? Why did I feel so unsettled after such a brief encounter?
As I hurried toward Aunty Sayeda's house, I felt a strange mix of annoyance and curiosity. I didn't know him, nor did I care to learn more about him. But as I approached Aunty Sayeda's home, I couldn't help but wonder if our paths would cross again.
Stepping into the warm, inviting atmosphere of Aunty Sayeda's house, I was greeted by the comforting aroma of spices and the sound of laughter. Yet, my thoughts remained tangled in my earlier encounter. The door swung open, and just as I stepped inside, I froze.
Standing in the center of the room was the same guy, but this time he looked even more at ease, casually conversing with Aunty Sayeda. He had a warm smile on his face, and I could feel my irritation flaring up again.
"Zaviyaar, beta, you've grown so much!" Aunty Sayeda exclaimed, her face lighting up with joy. "It's been years since you left for Karachi to study!"
Zaviyaar? I blinked in surprise. Aunty Sayeda's son? I hadn't known she had a son.
"I missed you, Amma," he replied, his voice smooth and confident. "It's great to be back home, even if it's just for a visit. And I brought some friends with me."
My heart raced with a mix of shock and annoyance. He was Aunty Sayeda's son, a lawyer no less, and I had nearly had a spat with him just moments ago. I felt a flush of embarrassment creeping into my cheeks.
"I didn't know you had a son!" I blurted out, unable to contain my surprise.
Aunty Sayeda laughed. "Well, now you do! Zaviyaar left for Karachi when he was very young to pursue his studies. He's all grown up now—a lawyer, no less!"
I couldn't help but eye him warily as he turned to me, his expression unreadable. "Nice to officially meet you," he said, extending his hand with a casual charm.
"What do you mean, 'officially'?" I asked, crossing my arms defensively.
He grinned, unbothered by my attitude. "Just that I know a lot more about you than you think. Like how you've taken on the role of family chef this afternoon."
I rolled my eyes, my irritation returning. "Don't flatter yourself. You barely know me."
He shrugged, his demeanor relaxed. "Maybe I'd like to change that. But for now, let's just enjoy Ammas hospitality."
"Why would I want to get to know you?" I shot back, trying to keep my voice steady, my heart racing for reasons I couldn't fully understand.
"Because you're curious about me, too," he said, his gaze steady and challenging. "And I think you secretly want to see how a city boy handles the rural life."
Before I could respond, Aunty Sayeda clapped her hands, calling our attention. "Come, come! You both must sit! I have tea and sweets prepared!"
As we settled into the cozy living room, I felt the tension in the air shift. Zaviyaar was effortlessly charming, and I found myself trying to remain composed, not wanting to show how rattled I felt.
"Why don't you tell us what it's like in Karachi?" Aunty Sayeda asked, beaming at her son. "I want to know everything!"
Zaviyaar launched into stories about city life, and I found myself half-listening, half-wondering how I'd gone from a simple errand to sharing a space with Aunty Sayeda's intriguing son.
But deep down, I knew this was just the beginning of something unexpected. A strange connection had sparked between us, one that I wasn't ready to explore. Yet as I glanced at him, my heart betrayed my resolve, and I felt the weight of an unspoken question linger in the air between us.
