UMAIR'S POV
I saw her chatting with Aunt and Uncle, while Tiny seemed to be with them. It looked like Aunt and Uncle already knew them, but the girl had a blank expression. Meanwhile, Farhan and I booked an Uber, and Aunt introduced me as everyone turned to look. Farhan stepped away to chat with the older man, and I noticed the girl lower her gaze, focusing intently on Tiny. She seemed well-behaved.
As we took the taxi, waving goodbye, Aunt mentioned that we were heading to the same place where they lived, so there was no need for farewells. We felt a bit lost, but Aunt explained more about the old man and the girl who had lost her mother. I felt a wave of worry but couldn't ask further questions since she was a girl.
The journey was short—only about 15 minutes due to traffic. We arrived at a beautiful house where a couple in their 40s greeted us. A girl and a boy emerged from a room; one looked to be a year or two older than Tiny, while the boy appeared to be our age. We greeted them and stepped inside, learning that this was Auntie's cousin.
Author's Note about the Four New Characters:
Auntie's Cousin Sister: Mrs. Ziyard
Her Husband: Mr. Ziyard
Daughter: Sulaiha
son: Zaid
Umair's POV:
Zaid seemed really friendly, and we enjoyed a delicious lunch with some special dishes, the best being poori. Afterward, Aunt encouraged us to go outside for some fun, and I noticed Tiny was called over by Sulaiha. They invited us to join them in a big garden surrounded by a short fence, with beautifully built houses on the opposite side. We started playing ball, laughing and chasing each other like kids.
Haaniyah's POV:
We waved goodbye, and Grandpa suggested we meet again tonight. I realized they would be our neighbors. Grandpa shared memories about the places we passed, including my mom's favorite park. I had imagined a dry, distant landscape when he spoke of his village, but it was a pleasant surprise—bright streets and fenced houses lined the way, reminiscent of Kevin's home street from the Minions cartoon.
"Grandpa, it's really nice! Wow, I love this place!" I exclaimed, feeling super excited.
"I knew you'd love it, apart from that busy life," he replied with a smile.
Entering the house, I was struck by the antiques and how neatly Grandpa had arranged everything. He showed me to my room, which was clean and tidy. I wondered who kept it that way until I learned a maid came in.
"Haaniyah, just freshen up and come for lunch," Grandpa said.
"Okay, Grandpa, I'll be back in 30 minutes," I replied.
After a refreshing bath, I slipped into a top and jeans before heading downstairs. The house wasn't large but was cozy enough for four people. I looked around until Grandpa came outside. The garden was lovely, filled with blooming zinnias and roses, with a single tree standing proudly within the fenced area.
After lunch, I prayed Asr, and Grandpa invited me to sit outside. We chatted, and he mentioned that someone would be coming soon.
"Who?" I asked, feeling a bit confused.
Grandpa pointed to a house opposite us, four doors down. "It's them we met at the station, remember? They're our cousins. When she was younger, her family lived right across from us, but after their parents passed, they sold it. They're still our far relatives but very close as neighbors—a really good family."
"Oh, I see them out there, Grandpa," I said, spotting them.
"We'll go over in a while," he assured me.
"There?" I felt shy about visiting.
"Yes, why not? You should get to know them so you can make some friends this vacation. There are two more kids at that house—well-mannered ones," he encouraged.
"Um, okay, Grandpa," I reluctantly agreed.
Just then, the maid brought us tea, and a car pulled up. A lady jumped out, rushing toward me. Yes, to me! I was super shocked.
"Oh, my little girl! I can see your mom in you. As-salamu alaykum, darling!" She was incredibly excited.
"Walaikum as-salam, Aunty," I responded with a smile, sensing she was a close relative despite my uncertainty.
"You don't know me, do you? Guess who I am by my looks!" she laughed.
Grandpa watched us, chuckling, and walked over to speak with the man who was unloading bags from the car—probably her husband.
"Mmm..." I hesitated.
"You must be Mom's eldest sister," I ventured, studying her features.
"Oh my, oh my! So you know me?" she asked, surprised.
"I recognized you from your resemblance to Mom," I admitted, unable to hold back my tears.
She hugged me tightly, comforting me. "Come, let's go inside first." She pulled me along.
Her daughter, Zainab, entered with her daughter, Sauda.
Author's Note:
Mom's Sister: Asma
Her Husband: Mr. Fahad
Daughter: Zainab > Her Daughter: Sauda
Haaniyah's POV:
They brightened my day, making it far from boring. Their home was right next to Grandpa's. They mentioned they would be back in an hour after refreshing, so Grandpa planned to take me to Hafsa's aunt's place.
I dressed in a grey top and denim, paired with a maroon shawl and a bit of eyeliner to look simple yet prepared. I slipped on my maroon shoes.
We walked over, and I saw the girls and boys playing. Hafsa ran to me, and I felt happy to have a partner. She became so friendly in a short time. The aunties were incredibly warm, and they chatted mostly about Mom. I noticed Aunt Asma, Zainab, and Sauda joining us, and the whole house buzzed with excitement.
Sauda soon fell asleep, so Zainab took her to the bedroom with the help of a maid.
Hafsa urged me to join the others. I felt shy but finally relented. "You have nothing to do here; go join them! They're your cousins," she insisted.
So, I walked out. Everyone greeted me and passed me the ball. I joined in as if I had known them for years. We played basketball, and I was cheered on, enjoying every moment. Eventually, we took a break to rest and chat, laughing and giggling. Hafsa and Farhan were such loving siblings, and Umair shared the same bond with them—mashallah!
"The girl who fought over some plates," Umair whispered with a smirk.
I felt my cheeks flush. What is that about? Oh my God! I really didn't want to apologize for that moment
YOU ARE READING
HABIBI AND HABIBATI
Romance"But a mermaid has no tears, and therefore she suffers so much more." ― Hans Christian Andersen. You see? she laid her burdens down, And he just picked them up, Threw them over his shoulders, Reached for her hand, And boldly walked out, Into t...
