The phone call
788 Words
"Hello," heavy manly voice touched her ear drum.
"Assalamualaikum," she puckered her lips.
He answered in a foreign voice.
''I'm talking from Pakistan," she talked back in broken English.
"Who from Pakistan?", he was asking in English.
Tears wer coming in her eyes.
"I'm the niece of Sabeen Sikander. Can you pass phone to her."
"She went till Jawahir, if you have any message for her, you can tell me," he was saying in a busy tone. She didn't know what was Jawahir.
"Weren't Aunt sabeen expected to come to Pakistan at Dawar's wedding?''
''No, she's busy." He was about to hang up the phone till she asked. ''Who....who are you?"
"Her son....Jahan!" And hanged up the phone.
She looked at the receiver with teary eyes. Tears had ruined her make up. He corrected her make-up and came outside. Zafar was coming towards the gate. He had a bouquet of white roses in his hands.
She stopped at this sight.
"What is this, Zafar?"
"Oh, you are here. The courier guy brought it for you." Zafar gave an enclosed envelope and that bouquet to her. He was a servant of uncle Furqan for last 7 years. They brought him from village. When he came, he was fluent in Punjabi, he tried to learn Urdu in these 7 years but failed. Now he spoke mixed language.
"Okay, you can go." She held the bouquet in between her hands and started to open the envelope.
There was a white paper in it as usual, and there was a line written in Urdu in it's centre.
"To the girl...who cries with the fear of an unwanted relationship or cries with the fear of breaking an already unwanted relationship."
She was distressed after reading it and looked around her.
The gate was open. Lights and the voice of loud music was coming from outside. Many people were coming and going. Guests, servants, etc.... Was there someone who was noticing her?
She looked at the back of envelope. The stamp on it was of one day before.
She cried just ten minutes before after talking to Jahan and met with the parents of Waleed an hour before or so.
Who was this who was well aware? How did he know one day before that she'll cry twice today. She was standing afraid and reading that writing again and again.
"Did my father leave?"
She closed the lid of the perfume, placed it on the table and ran towards the door at a specific horn while picking her phone and purse. She was getting ready in her room for a while to go on the wedding. Her mother had knocked on her door ten times. She was getting late. It was Dawar's baraat today. Her father Suleiman had to reach the hall before guests and he was aware of her lazy habits.
The porch was empty. There was noise coming from the portion of Uncle Furqan, probably someone was still there. What should she do? Should she call her father or ask for lift from some one from Uncle Furqan's house.
She was thinking about it that some one horned at the gate. She stopped to look.
A shiny black accord was there and the headlights were very bright. Haya couldn't open her eyes due to those lights. When they got dim, the person on the driving seat became visible.
He was Waleed Laghari. His father was on the front seat and his mother was on the back.
"Assalamualaikum Haya!" he opened the door and came out while looking at her with a smile.
She was standing in front of the dimming lights.
"We don't know the way to the marriage hall, is Uncle at home?" he asked while staring at her.
She came forward and stopped at the door of Uncle Laghari. "Uncle! You should reach paradise hall and Abba probably left already. I wasn't aware when he left.
"Oh... And your uncle, etc....?''
"They left before father. Wait! father won't be far. I'll call them to come back..."
"Oh, don't call them back. They had to reach early, you can come with us, we also had to go there."
"Yes, come!" Mrs Mehnaz opened the door of her side and moved to the other side.
She stood there for some moments thinking.
If she had waited for her father, she would have missed the function and if she goes with them... Father won't get angry. She knew this.
"Okay." She sat on the back seat hesitatingly.
"So what does our daughter do?" Uncle Laghari asked on the way.
(When did I become your daughter?)
"I'm doing LLB Honors in Shariah and Law.
Means you are an Islamic lawyer.
"Yes!" She smiled slightly.
- Writer
