A Delightful Tragedy

01. Uméma and Shariq

U M E M A' S P O V

"SHARIQ?!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. God, why is he here?!

"Oh God! Don't tell me you're here too!" he muttered, sounding incredulous.

"What do you mean by that? I'll be at my brother's Valima (reception)," I shot back, irritation flaring. How dare he talk to me like that?

Yes, today was Nada and Fahad's Valima. After a month of planning, they were finally celebrating their wedding, which hadn't happened earlier. My ship had finally sailed! Sigh.

"Right. My bad," he replied, sarcasm dripping from his tone.

"Yes. Now get lost," I spat, trying to ignore how annoyingly handsome he looked in his navy blue suit. I had to appreciate God's creation, even if it was him.

"And why would I do that?" He stepped closer, arms crossed defiantly.

"Because garbage isn't allowed, you stupid!" I bit back a laugh that threatened to escape.

"Oh shoot, then why are you here?" he retorted. Okay, okay. Touché.

"I'm here to throw out garbage like you," I snickered, diverting my gaze to Nada and Fahad, who were being teased by Mira and Rahim. Aww, lovebirds.

"Umeema yo—"

"Don't! My name's Uméma, not Umeema!" I snapped, glaring at Shariq. He knew my real name but enjoyed irritating me by mispronouncing it. Ever since he found out it bothered me, he had taken to saying it wrong on purpose. Ugh!

If murder weren't a crime, I would definitely have killed him. Thrice.

"Oh, sorry—"

"You should be," I cut him off.

"Can you let me finish what I have—"

"Nope," I stressed the 'p.' "Why even bother asking?" I glared at him, his amber eyes reflecting a mix of anger and amusement.

"My, my, you've grown up, huh?"

"Yes," I raised my chin with pride. "Turning twenty two soon." I shot him a challenging look.

"Hmm," he hummed. "I wish there was a vaccine that could cure your stupidity. Poor girl had to grow up stupid for twenty one, soon-to-be twenty two years."

"SHARIQ! SHUT YOUR GOOD-FOR-NOTHING MOUTH!"

"Talk in a low voice. Yaha tamasha mat banao." (Don't create a scene here.)

"Just get lost, or I'll bury you alive right here." My face was probably as red as a tomato. How dare he?!

"You have a problem with me? Then you walk off. Why are you asking me to go away?" He stared at me, his expression daring.

Okay, then. I'll walk away.

I turned to leave when Azra, my cousin, marched toward me with a mischievous look. Another drama queen.

"What's with that look?" I demanded.

"Yes, yes, I ship you with that hunk," she began, a grin spreading across her face.

"Oh really? Which one? I don't see any," I said, holding my hand horizontally in front of my forehead, looking around exaggeratedly.

"Don't act over-smart, Memi. That guy right there!" She pointed, forcing my head in Shariq's direction. Ew, that was the best she could come up with?

"That, my dear, is a mentally unstable patient. God knows how he got out of the asylum." I rolled my eyes.

"Sure, sure. But don't deny it when I write his name on your palm with henna at your mehendi ceremony (Pre-Wedding ceremony)." She teased, making me roll my eyes again.