غير مألو - Unfamiliar

Chapter 8

"Zohal, darling, I know this is too much and too fast for you to comprehend, but always know that God is with you. He does everything for a reason, trust Him. I am sorry you had to face all these when you are supposed to be enjoying your life, I am sorry. And remember your mamm and Baba are either you too, okay?"

Suleima teared up as she hugged the girl, who she had considered her own daughter even before her birth.

"No, Auntie. It isnt anyone's fault. Please don't cry."

Zohal pleaded, as she was trying to not cry herself and the task turned out to be quiet hard since Suleima was sobbing heavily,clutching her shoulders.

A faint memory of her parents smiling at her, suddenly flashed by. She remembered them. Their beautiful voice carrying in the garden while they set a picnic out in the garden, for her birthday.

No.

She wouldn't cry.

Please, not today.

Senfing a silent prayer for her, Daadi and parents above, she looked at her pale hands which were once again bathed with red henna.

But this time, there weren't any hopes, dreams or even excitement. There was no space for anything this time, just a bleak future which she readily accepted. She was constantly told by the guests that she was lucky, because darker the henna, the more the groom loved you. Zohal couldnt help the bitter smile that cracked her face, at the words. She had lost hope of love, she'd never let anyone love her nor will she love anyone. Why should she? Because love broke her, that's what it did.

She thought back to her Uncle's words earlier.

He had smiled and the tears hugged his sunken cheeks. The days he had spent thinking over her unfortunate situation, evident on his ragged and thin face, with lines of concern. If a person did look properly, he'd think that Samir wasn't marrying off his daughter, no, they'd think he was preparing for her funeral.

"I love you so much, darling. You always remember that your Uncle will stay with you until his last breath. I was so afraid of your future, but I am glad my little girl is grown up now. I am sorry it has come to this, but no one has a right to point at you and if they do, make sure to give them a piece of your mind, okay? And remember you'll always be my daughter, okay?"

Zohal had laughed heartily for the first time after months, at her Uncle's poor excuse of a joke, in spite of the saddening situation. Her soft yet elegant laughter had reverberated through the big hall, convincing the Wadi family to lay back.

She was jerked out of her Uncle's thoughts when Najma squealed beside her, shaking her violently.

One would think she was the bride of the evening, instead of Zohal, because her excitement knew no bounds. She animatedly started talking about how the Fatihs had come to the venue in all their glory, turning multiple heads in the process. Najma was more excited to meet the men who had followed the groom, whom she assumed were the Fatih brothers. Farida chastised her for looking at other guys when it was clearly not appropriate to do so. Nasreen chided them for even talking about the forbidden people. Lest, they brought upon the wrath of their brothers on them, once they heard about these little talks.

Zohal reminisced her old days at London, seeing their banter from afar, wonderig when again she would also smile, laugh and bicker like how she used to. She would agree, London hadn't always been the best at times, but there were unforgettably happier.

Nasreen noticed her wistful expression and tried to coax her into joining their little conversation.

As more guests kept coming her way and kept congratulating her, she couldnt help but wonder, how she would settle in another home, another family. The nikkah had finished without any hindrance and now Zohal dreaded the end.