In a close-knit conservative Muslim community, Amina, a young and talented girl, dreams of becoming a fashion designer specializing in modest and hijabi fashion.
As Amina's family pressures her into an arranged marriage, she fears her dreams will be...
Amina stood outside her family home in Pakistan, her heart thumping with excitement. It had been a long flight from New York, but the exhaustion vanished the moment she laid eyes on the familiar house. Her mother and Nani were waiting inside, and she couldn't wait to hug them both. She pressed the doorbell, barely able to contain her joy.
From inside, she heard her mother’s familiar voice, slightly irritated, “Tch, is waqt kon hai?” Amina smiled wide, recognizing that tone. As soon as the door creaked open, Amina flung her arms around her mother, who gasped in surprise.
“Ammi!” she exclaimed, hugging her tightly.
Her mother, Sayda, had tears in her eyes as she realized that Amina had finally come home. “Amina! Mera bacha!” she cried, hugging her daughter even tighter. They pulled back, and Amina’s mother, overwhelmed with joy, kissed Amina’s face all over, making her giggle uncontrollably.
Hearing the commotion, Amina’s Nani shuffled out of her room, adjusting her glasses. When she spotted Amina standing there, her eyes widened in disbelief. “Arey, meri bachi!” she gasped, spreading her arms wide. Amina immediately rushed to her and hugged her too.
“Nani!” Amina exclaimed. After they pulled back from their embrace, Amina couldn’t help herself and cracked a joke, “Nani, kitni patli ho gai ho!”
Her Nani let out a laugh, as that was exactly what she had been about to say to Amina. “Arre, yeh toh mujhe tumhe kehna tha! Lagta hai New York ne tumhe patla kar diya!”
They all burst into laughter, and Amina felt an overwhelming sense of happiness wash over her. Finally, they settled down on the couch, talking nonstop about everything that had happened while Amina was away.
"I'll go make chai for my precious child," her mother said, getting up and wiping her joyful tears.
“Ammi, aap toh best ho,” Amina called out, leaning back with a contented smile. She felt at home—truly home.
Meanwhile, at the Ahmed Mansion…
Over at the Ahmed mansion, excitement was brewing as well. Hassan and Mahira stood at the gate, grinning at the sight of their family home. They had just returned from New York as well, but as usual, Mahira couldn’t contain her enthusiasm. She dashed inside, leaving her luggage behind.
Hassan chuckled at his sister’s antics, shaking his head as he gestured to the servants. “Zara in bags ko humare kamron mein rakh do, please,” he said politely. He followed Mahira inside, his hands in his pockets.
Inside, Mahira was shouting at the top of her lungs, “Suno suno, gaon waalo sunoo, dekho kaun aaya hai! Main aa gayi hoon!” She twirled around dramatically as if she had just returned from winning an award.
