That Is Where My Heart Resides.

17.Mahoor

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Hurry up now I need a miracle.

Herds of people flowed in the dim lighted hall,just like a river flowing.Each of them brought perfectly decorated packages or either envelopes.Exhausted and sick I just close my eyes for a second,being aware that they were almost billions of eyes on me,recording each and every action of mine in their small brains and then to just talk about my weirdness.

"Asalamo Alaikum Mahoor beta,mubarak ho,mubarak ho", she cheered trying to place herself on the sofa,managing her wriggling,jelly like body.It was all awkward,everybody was aware of me but people just came specially aunties,talking to me like we've known each other for years even though I might not even have a single clue of who they are.

"Walaikum Asalam", I muttered politely,my eyes lowered and all I could see was the soft carpet.

Nikkah was just about to start and Omer was not even here yet.

"Mahoor!?", Ammi reached out to me from a great crowd of people beaming,some of them were interested in chatting and discussing about their personal matters,which included mostly the aunties.Children were running to each corner annoying and bugging people,their mother's yelling at them and asking them to just take a seat and sit politely with manners.
Girls were mostly more prepared than me,gold almost everywhere,ears,necks and arms and even on their nose.Most of them were merely caked by makeup,a white powdered scattered on their face,concealing each of their bumps and tanned complexion,to their satisfaction,even though I just assumed them to be close enough to a joker in circus.
But they were quite happy and each of the guests seemed blithesome and in high spirits.

Many of them were so full of cheer and walked on air,that they were engrossed in their own works,like taking selfies,not even noticing what was happening around.

The camera man was just doing his arrangements while the normal people got up,with their mobile cameras,digital cameras,many of them with DSLR's taking weird photos of me,the light flashing through my eyes almost made me blind but all I could do was fake a smile.

I wonder how happy I would be if there was someone else I would be getting married to instead of Omer.

"Mahoor!!?", Ammi just broke out,her voice screeching,damaging my ear.

"Ji Ammi?", I asked rubbing my ear slightly.

"Mahoor where is Omer and did you get to see Phuppo?",Ammi questioned running her eyes all over the hall while her questions annoyed me.

"How can I know?", I replied rolling my eyes balls.

"Mahoor you'll just get slapped next time if I found you rolling your eyes or talking to me loudly", Ammi said through greeted teeth and sending me deathly glares.

"Bajii move to a side", the camera man demanded.

"Hold on!", Ammi commanded.

"Bajji we'll just call her Ammi,we need to start our work,please Bajji get off the stage", he almost yelled wrapping his hands around his head while I just stared him in disbelief concealing my fits of laughter behind my long slender hands.

Ammi suddenly turned around fuming with anger,almost identical to hot flames bursting.

"Do you even know that I am her mother and you are just talking to me so harshly,if you have problem with that I can arrange any other photographer,got it?", Ammi called out hot under the collar.

To this he just lowered his head and stood straight folding his hands at his back and nodding continuously.

"Badtameez", Ammi muttered under her breath to which I just thanked he didn't heard it.

Ammi trailed off dealing with the guests arriving.

And soon my eyes noticed him.
He just reached finally.His hairs were still damp and oily,skin was rough and sharp as usual,surrounded by a bubbly nose and thin brown lips.
He was just looking good enough to be as a groom,dressed in traditional sherwani,that was charcoal black,decorated with something I associated with beads or craftwork.But I wasn't able to look at him when he filled the room with "ooh's and aah's".

Phuppo was dressed wildly,her hairs were tied perfectly into a tight bun with her golden and brown streaks,that she thought would make her look fashionable.Which wasn't true enough.Dressed in dark green traditional shalwar kameez,which was embroidered with small stone and diamond work,sending down shines and glitters,shimmering to its fullest.Her feet were spilling out of her golden high pencil heels which she barely managed to walk in and nearly tripped Everytime keeping a tight hold on Omer.Her face was as usual covered in millions of concealers,amd bright red lipstick which she wore Everytime even if it didn't look good with the outfit.

With a wide grin on her face,she walked towards me,but I recognised the grin as a diabolical grin,which always accompanied her;a sign of badluck.

My heart was just trying to escape but was tied to his grip.All of this made it seem like I was kept in a prison where I wasn't free of doing all things and had to do everything under the acceptance of Phuppo and Omer.
And they can't even let me do what I really want to,from childhood.

I just prayed that just how in dramas and fantasy stories,a prince charming just arrives at the perfect timing making everything perfect and all of it seems so easy,but life isn't a fantasy tale but a bed of thorns.

The moulvi sahib entered and brought the papers with him and he started with his work.
I would just say no instead of Qabool hay,but with Phuppo standing on my head and Ammi's pleasing face I couldn't do anything.

Just when that part came my eyes saw Sameer running,entering the hall.He was literally running and was all alone,all by his self.Why was he here?

He can't be that prince charming,or is he?Ofcourse not.
But why is he here?
He can't even stop all of this happening,he is just mad.

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