preference delights

"The wind begins to blow. "

Chapter 23
"Amma, please give me Zarmeena. My late brother promised that he would only give Zarmeena to Farid in marriage, but now you are denying it," Majida was near collapse, begging Dadi to make Zarmeena her daughter-in-law.

"Majida, are you out of your mind? Is Zarmeena a toy that you can just hand over to anyone to play with? At least have some fear of God before lying about a person who is no longer in this world!" Dadi spat, frustrated after listening to Majida's beseeching for the last two hours.

"Amma, you're denying Farid as if he's lacking something. He's so perfect that parents are begging me for their daughters, but I'm bound by a promise I gave to my late brother." Majida was nearing melodrama, even storing a few tears in the corners of her eyes, ready to use them when needed.

"Okay, okay, but first convince Farid. If he agrees to this, I promise Zarmeena will be yours," Dadi gasped, surrendering, knowing that only Majida could convince her son.

Majida couldn't believe her ears. Years of her persistence were finally paying off.

"Okay, Amma, I'll convince Farid. Amma, I can't express my feelings. It's like years of worship, and God has finally answered my prayers." This time, true tears of happiness fell from her face, filled with gratitude.

"Majida, my condition is still the same. Farid must agree to this proposal," Dadi said in a warning tone, implying her seriousness.

"Oh, Amma, it's okay. He won't deny me," Majida exclaimed confidently.

"Majida, Farid is not agreed to this proposal. He considers Zarmeena like a sister, and I assume Zarmeena feels the same. Their acceptance is essential," Dadi knew Majida's tactics, which is why she emphasized her condition.

"Don't worry, Amma. My name is Majida, and I will never let them be at peace until they agree," Majida said decisively.

Dadi thought she had made the right decision by giving this responsibility to Majida. She knew Majida would find a way out of this problem.

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Zarmeena squatted on the auditorium stairs, filling in the initials for Salaar. Salaar was sitting directly in front of her, completely absorbed in her gaze.
"Mr. Salaar Malik, could you please trouble yourself to at least read these rules and regulations before giving your autograph on them?" Zarmeena snapped sarcastically, rolling her eyes. She was already annoyed at having to forgive him in front of the whole auditorium.
Everyone was staring at her, begging with their eyes for her to forgive him. At last, she had to say, "It's okay."
"Oh! I was actually lost," he said apologetically, berating himself. He had only just been forgiven, and here he was again giving her reasons to sulk. But he was helpless, unable to control his mischievous eyes, which refused to see anything other than her gaze.
"Zaro, these are your bike keys, and I'm sorry, but there's a strike today, and no taxi is available to take Dadi home," Sajid, almost breathless, suddenly intervened and put the keys in Zarmeena's hand.
"I'll kill you, Sajid! You were out with my bike all morning, and now you come back with this horrible news?" Zarmeena raged, her face changing color with anger. Salaar smiled, watching her angry expression.
"Zarmeena, you can take my car. Actually, I'll even drive Dadi home," Zaywaar appeared out of nowhere and offered.
Salaar was consumed with jealousy at Zaywaar's affectionate offer. Before he could grab Zaywaar's collar, Jawad intervened.
"In Salaar's Land Cruiser, Dadi will be much more comfortable," Jawad said, winking at Salaar to seize the opportunity.
"I would love to help," Salaar exclaimed with a pensive look, as if he had taken all the burdens of humanity upon his shoulders.
"Zaro, they're right. For Dadi's comfort, you should let them help if you can't find a better solution," Sajid said, his voice filled with concern.
"Let's go, Salaar," Zarmeena said briefly, realizing that accepting Salaar's offer was the best option.
She followed Salaar but paused for a moment, gazing at Sajid, who was still standing there.
"Sajid, you're not coming with us," Zarmeena demanded. Salaar raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips; his disapproval of Sajid was clearly visible on his face.
"Zaro, you go with Salaar. I have to submit my assignment. I forgot because of Dadi, but today is the last day of submission." Sajid sensed Salaar's feelings through his stern expression.
Salaar could hardly believe that Zarmeena was sitting in his car. He found it difficult to concentrate on driving, frequently glancing at her from the corner of his eye. Zarmeena was busy dialing a number on her phone.
He noticed she had an old Nokia 3310 phone. That must be why she wasn't active on social media-she didn't even have a smartphone. She cradled the phone between her ear and shoulder, rummaging through her bag with her hands, while using her index finger to point directions. Finally, the call was answered.
"Yes, Chacha, we're nearby. Keep it ready," she said into the phone.
"Don't worry, Chacha, I'm coming. I'll handle it. Okay, we're here. Ok, ok." She signaled for him to stop the car.
Salaar was so lost in Zarmeena that he hadn't even noticed where they were headed.
He stopped the car in a crowded, messy area. Zarmeena stepped outside, closing the door behind her. She bent down at the window. "I'll be back in a few minutes. Will you wait here for me, or would you like to come with me?" she asked out of courtesy.
"I'm coming with you," he replied hurriedly, fearing he might lose the chance to accompany her.
Salaar glanced around and noticed they were in a wholesale market-extremely messy and far from hygienic. Sacks filled with random items were piled along the way, and the path they were walking on hadn't been cleaned in years, reeking of various fumes. He gazed at Zarmeena, who was moving ahead without a care, and stopped in front of one shop.
"Chacha Ji," Zarmeena called out to a man wearing an old but clean shalwar kameez and a cap to cover his head.
"Oh, Zaro beta (son), glad you came. Your cash is ready," he greeted her and handed her an envelope. Zarmeena counted the money, placed it in her sock, left a few notes, and gave the envelope back to the man.
"Chacha, will you please give this to Chacha Qadeem? I noticed his shop is closed. He helped us in bad times and didn't take money for fertilizers. Now that we have the money, please return this with my regards," Zarmeena said gratefully.
"Actually, Qadeem had to leave in a hurry because of a sudden death in his family. I'll give it to him, don't worry," Chacha informed her and took the envelope.
"Okay, Chacha, now it's your turn. Give me your register." The man took out an old, nearly worn-out register with many pages sticking out.
Zarmeena took the register and started calculating. Salaar was startled by her speed-without even using a calculator, she performed complex calculations in seconds, as fast as a computer. He thought, She's definitely worthy of my love.
Sensing Salaar's amazement, Chacha grinned.
"Zarmeena does the accounts for many of us here who can't do it ourselves and can't afford a paid accountant. She does it for us free of cost," Chacha explained, his voice filled with gratitude.
"It's done. I've noted at the end the pending money to vendors and the amount they owe you." She closed the register and stated firmly, using a pen to bind her hair in a bun. She didn't want Chacha Ji to continue praising her in front of Salaar. If it weren't for Dadi, she would have rather died than step into his car.