Eternity

Chapter 7

Asalamu Alaikum wa Rahmatullah wa barakatuhu

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"Do you, Zayan Ilyas Qureshi, son of Uzair Fatihi Qureshi, take Ayzal Noor Rehman, daughter of Hassan Alyan Rehman, to be your lawfully wedded wife in the presence of these witnesses, with God as the ultimate witness, and with the Mahr of 10 lakh agreed upon?"

Zayan emerged from his trance, glancing around the main hall where the ceremony was unfolding. The traditional setting, with its rich tapestries and ornate decor, seemed to blur into a haze of colors and noise. His hands were clenched tightly at his sides, each knuckle white under the pressure, as the Qazi posed the question he dreaded most at this moment. The air was thick with the weight of expectations, and Zayan could feel the eyes of everyone present on him.

"I do," Zayan repeated twice without hesitation, a cruel smile forming on his lips, almost as though he was relishing in the torment he knew he was about to inflict. The smile was sharp, a jagged edge in the otherwise serene atmosphere of the ceremony.

He pondered over the thought that if his parents were so delighted to welcome Ayzal as their daughter, who was he to take away their happiness? The twisted logic of his own thoughts was unsettling, and the smile on his lips grew darker.

'But that doesn't mean I can't take away Ayzal's happiness,' he mused darkly, his mind a swirl of bitterness and resentment.

'Prepare yourself, Mrs. Zayan, to face the wrath of your husband. You shattered my life, and I will return the favor. I will tear you apart piece by piece. You will scream and beg for help, but no one will come to your aid. I will ensure you never find happiness. You stole the only joy my family had, and now it is my turn to make your life a living hell. Trust me on this.'

On the other side, from the moment Ayzal had said "I do," a cold dread had settled in her chest. She could almost envision the impending destruction, her world turning upside down in a way she felt powerless to stop. The joy and celebration around her felt like a cruel mockery of her inner turmoil.

Ayzal struggled to cope with the overwhelming emotions bombarding her from every person around her. She felt an acute sense of injustice but knew her chances of opposing this marriage were slim. For Ayzal, her father's happiness had always been her greatest aspiration. Now that she had achieved it, she felt bound by her commitment, unable to back down despite her inner fears.

Giving up was not an option for her now. She had always believed in the value of sacrifice, and even if she wanted to, she couldn't be selfish and think only of herself.

Every girl dreams of her wedding day being the best day of her life, but for Ayzal, it seemed all she could do was cry, accept the despicable changes, and move on. Her dream had turned into a nightmare, with her role reduced to one of silent suffering.

Once the Nikkah was completed, the Qazi presented the Nikkah Nama for both to sign. With a trembling hand, Ayzal took the pen from the Qazi, her fingers barely able to hold it steady as she signed the document. The weight of her decision pressed heavily upon her, each stroke of the pen feeling like a betrayal of her own happiness. Zayan signed afterward, his expression cold and detached.

Everyone around seemed to be reveling in Ayzal's sorrow, or so it appeared to her. The well-wishers and family members approached the newly married couple to offer their blessings, their smiles feeling more like mockery than genuine joy.

Dinner was served separately, a deliberate attempt to give the newlyweds some privacy, or perhaps to further highlight the distance between them. After the meal, it was time for Ayzal's Rukhsati. Her father embraced her tightly one final time, his own eyes glistening with tears that he tried to hide. Ayzal hugged her mother and brother, bidding a heartfelt farewell to her cousins who had shared so many memories with her. Her father then took her hand and led her towards Zayan, who bowed his head respectfully upon seeing his father-in-law.

Ayzal's father extended her hand to Zayan, imploring him to always protect her. The gesture was filled with hope and trust, an emotional plea from a father who had given his daughter to a man he hoped would cherish her.

Zayan grasped Ayzal's hand firmly, perhaps a bit too firmly, and led her to his car. He opened the door for her with a practiced politeness, as though the formality of the action could mask the bitterness that lay beneath. Ayzal took a seat, her gaze fixed on the window as she watched her family. Tears brimmed in her eyes, and she blinked repeatedly to clear her blurred vision, each blink feeling like an attempt to erase the pain from her heart.

Zayan circled around and entered the car beside her. The ride was silent, the tension palpable as they drove towards his home. Both were lost in their thoughts, the quiet, a stark contrast to the cacophony of emotions swirling within them.

Upon arriving at Zayan's home, Zayan exited the car and opened the door for Ayzal. She stepped out, her dress a heavy reminder of the commitment she had just made, and made her way to the front door.

As she approached the entrance, Zayan's family was waiting to welcome her. Their expressions were a mix of warmth and curiosity, and Ayzal felt a sense of being scrutinized as she crossed the threshold.

"Evil eyes off! Did I mention how beautiful you look, Ayzal? If I didn't, I am sorry. I tend to forget things easily these days—I am getting old, you know," Zayan's mother gushed, her voice laced with an exaggerated cheerfulness that did little to ease Ayzal's unease.

"It is perfectly fine, mother," Ayzal replied, attempting to return the warmth of the greeting as she cupped the hand that held her face. Her smile was more of a reflex than a reflection of her true feelings.

"Welcome, dear sister-in-law. Finally, the wait is over, and you are here. I have always wanted a sister, and now that you are here, we can do so many things together. I am so excited!" Yusra squealed, her enthusiasm almost too bright for Ayzal's somber mood.

"Yes, Yusra, you both will rejoice. I understand your excitement, but Ayzal is tired, so let her rest for today, okay?" Zayan's mother said, kissing Ayzal's forehead with an affectionate gesture and gently guiding her inside.

"Sure, Mom. Come, Bhabi, I will show you your room," Yusra said, her voice brimming with excitement as she took Ayzal's hand and dress, leading her towards her new home.

Ayzal followed, each step a reminder of the new reality she was stepping into, her heart heavy with a blend of hope and apprehension. The transition was not just a change in location but a shift in the very fabric of her life, and she could only brace herself for the days ahead.