Enwrapped

Chapter 20

"Bismillah, bismillah. Shukar hai meri bacchi sahi salaamat ghar waapas aa gayi!" Israa cheered, welcoming her daughter-in-law as she came back home. 

Muzammil had clutched her waist firmly. All the nutrition- or the lack thereof had made her feeble, even though the medication had healed her, and she had been advised to take it slow and not start having normal food until the next two weeks.

Israa came closer and kissed Saboor's cheeks, making her smile a little.

"Chalo, Muzammil beta, isse oopar le jaao, thak gayi hogi. Tumhaaray liye garam-garam soup le aati houn." Israa walked back to the kitchen, and the rest dispersed to their work, leaving Muzammil and Saboor alone.

A sudden squeal left Saboor's lips as Muzammil lifted her in his arms, a smile coming to his face. Even as he realized how weightless she had become due to sickness, he was thankful to hold her all the same. She had turned red with the proximity, hiding her face in his chest. And then, he climbed up the stairs.

"I can walk," she mumbled, still holding tightly to him.

"Why walk when I can lift you?" he retorted, grinning.

As the reached up to their bedroom, memories flashed in his eyes, silencing him at once. The last time he carried her out of this room he was so scared, so scared to lose her. Yes, he had spent thirty one years of life without even knowing about her existence but now, he could not think about one moment where she did not exist, where she was not with him, by his side.

"Ooh, we're back home," Saboor said as the door to their room opened, sighing in relief.

Muzammil gently placed her down on the bed, putting a few pillows behind and around her so she could lean back comfortably. He then sat beside her, and his eyes roamed over her body- her paler skin, the lost weight, and the tiredness in her kind eyes. He took the blanket from her feet and covered her lower body with it.

"Are you feeling cold?" he asked. She shook her head, a smile coming to her face.

"It just feels good to be back home. I don't know why, I seemed to miss it." Of course, she missed it. Home was such a tranquil place, nothing could beat it. And Saboor had made their room such a cozy and safe place, that at times, even Muzammil hesitated to leave.

He pulled her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. "I'm so glad you're back home."

Before anything else, there was a knock at the door, and then it opened, revealing Israa. She came forward and handed a tray to Muzammil.

"Soup le aayi houn, chanda. Make sure she finishes it, okay?" she instructed, squinting playfully at Saboor, before going out and downstairs.

Muzammil turned back to his wife. Saboor's nose scrunched up adorably at the sight of the soup. She had been drinking these watery things since the past five days, and was now craving rice and roti.

"Khaana to padega," he said in a sing-song voice. After blowing on a spoonful, he brought it to her lips. She hesitantly took a sip.

"When will I get better?" she asked, wiping her mouth with a paper towel.

He brought forth another spoonful. "You're getting better already, darling. See? Now you can have flavoured soups as well- that's a little progress."

"Hm...I really want to have normal food...but every time I eat, I fear that something will go wrong and it will start paining again."

"You will have normal food soon enough. And...is it paining right now?"

She shook her head, taking yet another sip of soup. He brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. "I know you're scared, but you're having your medicines on time, and if anything happens, the doctors will help. Why do you worry yourself so much?"