Interwoven

Aaban

Assalamualaikum, people!
Hope you all doing good. I'll not take your time just go ahead and enjoy this short story.
*wink*

~~~~~

Life holds grudges against us.
At least that's what mine did.

~~~~~~
Watching little Aaban play so carelessly makes me feel contented.
His shining eyes brings me intrinsic liveliness.
I smiled at him every time he would turn back to me or run in the park with other kids.

I want to provide him with every happiness in this world, my little boy is two years now.
No one can resist his chubby cheeks.
I chuckled, fascinated by his charms.
"Da," he frowned, his hands raised high in my direction intended for me to pick him up from the ground.
"Aaban enjoyed?" I rubbed my nose on his cheeks making him giggle.
His eyes twinkle every time like his mother's, he has blue eyes, just like his mother.
I smiled, her eyes would twinkle too when she would laugh or giggle.
"Da, Ieh-ceam!" He yelled looking at the ice cream cart across the street as he started jumping in my hands.
I chuckled.
Aaban and his love for ice creams, I sighed.
After the little party in which Aaban totally ruined his onesie, we went home.

"Oh, look, Baani is back! he ate ieh-ceam too.?' Samana chuckled taking him from me.
"...baani ...baani" Abaan cooed, giggled and clapped his little munchkin hands, his little fingers all parted.
We laughed.
"Yeah, that's pretty much obvious, I guess." I chuckled.
"I'll take him from here." Samana referred to as cleaning him.

"Thanks, Samana. By the way, where is my little niece? For Allah's sake honour her with a name, sister."
"She slept just now and it's just been two weeks, her father is nonetheless searching the name for his baby." We both laughed at that because Samana air quoted the word searching with her one hand since Aaban was in her other hand.

I left for my room too, to take a refreshing bath. My room is not an interesting type. It just does fine in resembling me. Since I love the colour black, everything in my room contains black, except the curtains.
Mom gave me a high time when it came on curtains.
I wanted them black too, however, mom thought it will give the tinge of the haunted room and she does not want me to dwell in darkness.
Her thought could only live up to the curtains and nothing else.

Mom was right, at least grey allows some light in my dark-hued room.
I chuckled conjuring the memory.

"Bhai, let's go down for lunch." Samana opened the door of the room lifting Abaan in her one arm and my little niece in her other one when I came out of the washroom.
How could she possibly pick both of them up and open the door at the same time?
I wondered, my forehead creased.
"What happened?" She asked.
"Nothing, leave him here, I'm coming." I nodded.
Aaban ran towards my bed struggling through, as soon as he steps his little foot on the floor.
I watched his steps, alert.

"He loves you so much." Samana admired.
I looked at him, lovingly, nodding.

I moved into my walk-in closet to find a t-shirt.
Sunday's means no worry for work.
"Da... Da... Da...!" Abaan cooed from the room, clapping his hands.
"Let's go little guy."

I settled him on his little chair beside me.
We were in the middle of our lunch when mom grabbed my attention. Her face intended to show the expressions which tend to start the dreaded conversation, again.

"Harris, he is so attached to you, now." I smiled and nodded looking at him.
It is just seven months since he is with me and I can't live without him now, already.

"Mom, with all respect, if you have any problem with him living here, I can find another place to live."
I completed resting my back on the chair whilst rubbing my mouth with the tissue and waited for their reactions.
Both of their expressions horrified and concerned and the blood drained from their faces.
My mom Alhamdullilah, is not a tough one. She is the most kind-hearted and humble individual I know in this world.
"Believe me, my son, I would never comprehend such a thing and I also love this baby boy here, we loved his mother extremely.
It is just that I'm worried about you..." She trailed off.

"Mom, he will be living with me and that is all since that little kid's paternal grandparents denied his being."

"Bhai, what if they come someday wanting him back from you?" Samana asked concerned.

All the time Aaban just played with the spoon I handed him, I sometimes put some baby food in his mouth.

"That won't happen." I smiled at him, again.
Both of them looked at me confused.

"I asked our lawyer for his adoption." They looked at me bewildered.
"Harris, i..." Mom tried to reasoned, softly.

"Mom, I love you and I'm not denying to get married or something I just need time and ...space. Will you be able to lend me that?" I looked at her hoping she agrees to it and peeking glances of Samara too in between.

She simply nodded.
"Mom?" She looked at me.
"...Well, ok... However, I have a deal for you." She lightened as immediate as possible.
"Ok?" I raised my left brow in anticipation, looking too and fro from my mother and sister.
I doubt that she is aware of what mom got.

"If I find a suitable girl for you, you will marry?" She proposed.
Samana looked just fine.
Means, she is aware of all of this.

"I don't mind, however, I doubt if any girl will take me in with Aaban." I shot back.

"Time will tell."
"Is that a deal?" Mom confirmed.
I nodded, relentlessly.

~~~~~~

"When is your man coming?" I asked Samana, we both were sitting in the living room, binge-watching "The Suits" on the Netflix on my laptop.
Mom already called the day off, we made kids slept and ended up being here.
"He will be any moment, why?"
"Just curious." I shrugged.
"Of?" She lifted her left brow.
Both of us had this habit of raising our left brows more often.
"I want to ask him, how long are we not going to call her by any name?" She hit my hand playfully.
"He's trying." She chuckled.

"You know?"
"Mm?" I asked.
"Fatima always used to say, we both raise our left brow in any situation, by default. And Saima would be not more than agreed with her."
"That memory just passed my lane."
I smiled.
"You are, really my sister." I hugged her as she grunted and I laughed.

I, Saima and Fatima were the same age, Samana was a year younger than us, however, we all four were 'inseparables'.

We were neighbours from the time we opened our eyes.
We were best friends.
We were schoolmates.

All four were...

"You remember when we bought our first bicycle?" Her voice bought me out of the reverie.
We both chuckled at the simultaneous thought, I nodded, implying I remember.
"We all went there together with our parents to the shop it was one heck of a crowd walking shops to shops." I laughed, Samana mirroring me.

"Assalamualaikum," both of us turned our head as soon as we heard Sarim coming in.

"Dinner?" Samana asked.
"I'm full." We reached to the couches to sit.
"Wheres my little, Mirha?"
"Who?"
"My daughter."
Samana raised her brow, again.

"You are so ...wow, Mr husband!" Samana clapped, amused.
"Is something wrong with the name, sister? I like it. What's wrong?" I butted in their conversation, glancing at both of them too and fro.
"When my baby was not even born, I asked Sarim if we name her Mirha? So, he was like, please let me try the name." Samana mocked him laughing.
I laughed and Sarim chuckled sheepishly, slipping his hands in his pant pockets.

"You gotta do what you gotta do, sister!" I winked.

"Eventually!" She laughed.

~~~~~~

"Mawmm, wa... Wat...ter." Aaban cooed, stuttered pulling the hem of mom's shirt.
We both looked at him surprised.
"It was me, or he really called me mom?"
"Yes, he did. How?" I was shocked too.
"Possibly, because you call me mom and besides that, kids imitate well."
She chuckled, kissing the top of his head, again.

"Asiya."
"Yes, mam?"
"Bring his feeder."
She nodded and went to do her asked chorus.
Mom caressed Aaban's s hair while he played on her lap.

"Mom, our little one is, Mirha."
I announced.
"I knew it."
She chuckled, I smiled and Aaban giggled, dancing his hands in the air.

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