A Pride & Prejudice and Little Women retelling
Farrah Hussain spent a lifetime hating Salman Bashir. At least that's what she liked to believe. When one fateful summer Salman changes his bad boy ways and comes back a new man, Farrah can't stop the l...
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Dahlia Ahmad was annoyed.
Firstly, Grandma Nargis had temporarily moved in with them - and in Dahlia's room. Since the older woman was still recovering, an unanimous decision was made by the family that it was better she remained with them during this period.
Secondly, the news of her hospitalization passed mouths and spread, and soon all of their relatives came to see her grandmother to express their concerns, even the ones living in villages.
Now her house was crawling with people who constantly asked her what was she currently doing with her life and if she could make them a cup of tea.
A huge bedsheet had been laid out in the middle of the living room floor, where all the uncles, cousins, nephews and nieces were playing cards. Grandma Nargis' story had now twisted from a simple Hypoglycemia to an action-packed tale with her fainting dramatically in the middle of the room and supposedly catching a glimpse of the Angel of Death.
Dahlia didn't know what was more ridiculous - her grandmother's clearly fake story or everyone taking up her personal space. It wasn't like Dahlia didn't like having her relatives over - she loved it - but being suddenly thrown out of her room overnight and having all her belongings rummaged by a gang of tyrant children were a little too much for her to bear.
"Do you think we can spend the night at Layla's?" Lily asked, her voice hopeful, her eyes on the commotion in front as they sat in stools around their kitchen isle, watching Ibrahim accuse the elders of always conspiring against him during family games.
"I think so," Dahlia replied. "It's not like we have place to sleep here," she said, gesturing to living room pointedly.
With a sigh, and a burying a deep annoyance that appeared in her heart at the thought of a pair of grey eyes, Dahlia stood up to salvage her phone from the tyrant children again.
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The day was spent on finding some method to the madness. It was hours after Maghrib as Dahlia gathered with her sisters, aunts and cousins in her room.
Dahlia's mother sat behind Nargis, massaging warm coconut oil on the old woman's scalp.
Dahlia and her sisters were sitting on the carpet around the bed, discussing everything from which of their cousins had become the bigger rascal with age to jinn stories. The rest of the aunties watched the kids talk animatedly, warm smiles on their faces.
