Yakeen Ka Safar: A Sequel

The Wedding (One Shot)

Asfandyar stood in front of the full length mirror, buttoning up his jet black sherwani very lightly embroidered with a simple gold pattern around the collar. Fidgeting, shifting around in it, trying to make it sit right. He would much rather have worn a pant suit but was rendered powerless against his mother's wishes, who was utterly delighted that her son was at last getting married and wanted him to look the part too.

He stood there staring at his reflection quizzically, almost amazed to be in this get up today. There was a time, not that long ago really, when he had actually felt convinced his life was meant to be lived in solitude. Asfandyar had finally settled into this new life of his, everything was as normal as it could've been, but then Zubia Khalil had shown up. For the second time, everything had changed.

Love was something he thought he wouldn't really be capable of experiencing again, and for quite some time he hadn't even wanted to. He believed he had loved once, and probably never would again. If, a few months ago, someone had told him he would be marrying Dr. Zubia Khalil, of all people, he would have laughed out loud at the absurdity of that situation.

Dr. Zubia Khalil. Who changed everything. Who disturbed his homeostatic environment. The cold and uncaring exterior beneath which he had managed to lock away everything had been altered, disrupted from its normal set point. Just like the human body employs feedback mechanisms to bring the environment back to its normal conditons, to re-establish equilibrium, he too had tried to fight it at first. Like the entry of foreign substances into the body kicks off protective measures, he too had resisted. With indifference. Anger. Frustration. But in this battle of mind versus heart, the heart had triumphed, like it always does.

That is how he stood here today. His wedding day. To the very same Dr. Zubia. Just thinking about that name made him feel an overwhelming sense of ownership. His Zubia. Someone he had never thought he would one day call his. Everything felt surreal. But agood kind of surreal.

He finished buttoning up his sherwani, giving a final glance to his reflection. His family was waiting downstairs in the lobby of the hotel they were staying at. He recalled his father's words to him. 'Hum yahan Islamabad mein mustakil toh nahi reh sakte magar main zarur chahunga ke tumhari shaadi yahin se hou.'

Both Asfandyar and Zubia had easily yielded to this simple request, hence the wedding was taking place in Islamabad and the marriage hall they had booked was not that far away from the hotel. He knew that somewhere, Zubia was getting ready too. His mind, as usual, drifted to her. He wondered how she was feeling right this moment. With that thought he made his way out of the room.

**

Zubia Khalil was having similar thoughts as her soon to be husband as she got ready. She was almost done now and as the time for the ceremony got closer the clenching feeling in the pit of her stomach kept getting stronger and stronger. Nervousness, anticipation, anxiety, all mixed together, making her almost giddy.

She was never vain about her beauty but she had to admit the entire look had turned out quite nicely. For the first time in a long time she actually felt beautiful, both inside and out. She had always been so wrapped up in her past that it was nothing short of a miracle that out of all choice of attire, she was actually in a wedding dress.

Lubna aunty had personally picked it out for her and it fit her like a glove. She had loved it at first sight, inwardly glad it wasn't too heavily detailed. Simple but elegant, it was designed in hues of dull gold and deep maroon, complimenting her skin tone perfectly and the light embellishments on it made it even more stunning against the lights of the room.

A simple gold choker with scarlet stones lay gently against her neck. Matching earrings were dangling from her ears and she had opted for a simple 'tika' to go with it. Her slender wrists were adorned with red and gold bangles and a few rings were sparkling against her fingers, all of this placed against a deep red backdrop of her 'mehndi'.