The Entangled Tales

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وہ اک شخص جسے مانگا بہت-

Translation: That one person for whom I supplicated a lot.

Staring at myself in the large mirror, my features giving no hints of the wounded chambers of my heart. Seconds turned into minutes, and I stood in front of the mirror like a mannequin, dressed in a maroon and gold lehenga full of sequins. The heavy gold embroidery with Swarovski stones against the maroon banarasi material made it look ethereal. Hearing a knock, I quickly wiped my cheek with the back of my hand as Haya bhabhi entered, looking towards me with a big encouraging smile on her face.

"Oh my my! Hoori jaan, the makeup has done wonders on you, and look, I've brought your jewelry. It's too beautiful. Come, let me help you wear it. Only an hour is left till Qazi Sahab comes."
Haya bhabhi said chirpily, yet I could feel her failed attempts to cheer me up.

"How am I supposed to do this, Bhabhi?" I found it difficult to swallow the lump in my throat, my eyes full of unshed tears. "He is my sister's fiancé. I... I can't do this."

"Hey, hey, shhhh, stop worrying and take a deep breath, Hooriya." Haya bhabhi came forward to hug me and kept trying to shush me, making sure that I didn't shed any tears.

"You good now?" She asked, looking at my face, to which I nodded.

"I know it's difficult for you, and believe me when I say it's difficult for all of us as well. But Hoori, expecting, planning, overthinking — we've all done it for certain things that we weren't even sure would happen. All those self-made versions of life cause us more damage and pain. So stop thinking and have faith in Allah."
Haya bhabhi tried to calm me down with her soothing words, which actually worked a bit, as I sighed.

"Shabash, chanda. Now don't cry anymore, or else your makeup will be ruined."
She said as she started to put my gold jewelry on.

It took us a while to get everything done. I had never felt this heavy — emotionally and physically — because of the heavy dress and all the ornaments I was wearing, which I wasn't even supposed to wear. It's funny, no? How life takes a sudden turn when you least expect it. Just as mine did.

She pulled me out of my thoughts once again, which I'd been drifting to quite a lot lately. "Hooriya, tum kitni haseen lag rahi ho yaar, kaash main bhi aise dulhan banti. Khud ko dekh tou lo nazar utha kar." (You're looking drop-dead gorgeous, I wish I could be a bride like you.)
She praised my look for the nth time, but in that moment, I didn't even care how I looked. I just wanted this day to be over.

"Shukar karein ap aisi dulhan nahi bani." (Thank the Lord, that you didn't make a bride like me.)
I couldn't stop myself from saying this. My sentence had a double meaning, which I knew Haya bhabhi understood easily.

"Aise nahi bolte. Dekhna Arsh Bhai bhi tumhein dekh kar sab bhool jaenge." (Don't talk like that. Arsh will forget everything once he sees you.) Haya bhabhi winked.

I was about to answer her, but seeing Mama enter the room, I decided otherwise.

"Masha'Allah, meri guriya ko kisi ki nazar na lagey. Meri Hooriya bilkul Hoor lag rahi hai." (May Allah protect you from the evil eye. My Hooriya is looking just like a deity.)
Her expression softened as she saw me.

"Mama..." I felt a lump grow in my throat. Unable to speak further, I hugged her tightly.

"No Hoori, don't cry, meri guriya. You're my strong child, right? You don't know how proud I am of you right now. You've saved our honor. You've saved us from all the humiliation that was about to come our way because of your sister. I won't forgive her. Never."
Mama wiped my tears, not caring about her own.