Only Her

Wedding Functions-Mehndi

After Two months.

AHLAM.

"Do I look good enough?" I asked myself as I stood in front of my room's mirror.

Because I did not go out enough, I used to feel insecure, but now that today is so special, I would do anything for that one person who says, "I think I look amazing.""Thank God!"

I could feel my cheeks getting redder just thinking about him. Ya Allah! This man is going to make me go crazy. If he had been here, he would have enjoyed watching me in these kinds of situations and making fun of me.

My long, dark, curly hair fell freely down my back as I wore a sophisticated Anarkali dress from Pakistan, which was adorned with intricate hand-stitched embroidery and a matching dupatta in shades of mustard and ruby red. Looking in the mirror, I smiled to myself before focusing on my hands tinkering with the thick, fragrant bangles of white lilies and red roses around my wrist.

Today was my Mehndi, which is a pre-wedding ceremony. Reddish-orange mehndi will be applied to my palms, hands, and feet. It was traditional for me to wear fresh flowers on my wrist, which the women in attendance would also pick on their own. As of right now, I will be officially recognized as a bride.

According to what I was told, percussion instruments—the main one being the Dholki, an Asian-style drum—would be used in traditional Mehndi and Dholki songs.

The aroma of the white lilies, Kashmir roses, and jasmine scattered throughout my room filled my nostrils as I gazed around it. Then I was astounded by the gorgeous rose earrings and necklace that Aahil had gifted me. Despite our agreement to wait until after we were married, insha'Allah, I really wanted him to be here. Quickly muttering "Alhamdulillah"

In order to avoid waking Hania, I hastily covered my aching left hand and arm with my dupatta when I heard a sharp knock on the patio window. I ignored it and continued walking toward the door, hoping to see Hania, but as I was about to do so, there was another sharp knock, and this time, Aahil's face was visible. Ya Allah! He was really here, but could he see me before the events and was that safe? I was just thinking about him.

I just continued to pace back and forth, not knowing what to do and gasping in shock. Even though we were not supposed to meet until after we were married, he simply stood there and waited for me to open the window. What was this guy doing here? He is going to get us both in serious trouble.

I rushed to let Hania in through the patio doors, locking my bedroom door in case he arrived. As soon as he was inside, he grinned widely and glanced up and down at me. Even though he was embarrassed, he still reached out and gave me a cozy hug. Yes, I should push away.

For the first time, he whispered in my ear, "Ahlam, you look so beautiful, just like the moon in the sky, Subhan'Allah."

His embrace felt wonderful, but when I pushed him away, he accepted the space.

How come you are in this place? Then I whispered anxiously, "What if someone saw him?"

"Obviously, meeting my wife!" He answered.

"Ahlam are you ready? Open the door!!" My eyes widened when Hania's voice broke the silence, but he enjoyed making me feel that way because it had no effect on him; he stayed as calm as though his sister had not been waiting for me to open the door.

"A moment, please!" I replied back.

I turned to face Aahil and muttered, "You realize we are not able to meet?

"We are not meant to meet until tomorrow night, which is tomorrow night is rukhsati, (leaving home to live with her husband). It is ritual. It was not wise for you to come here. What if they find out? What do I say? Please, you must leave.

I pushed him towards the patio, but he just leaned against the door, casual and calm.

"I will return, my dear wife," he said, before winking and disappearing over his side of the patio.

I rushed over to let Hania in, closing the door behind her.

"What has taken you so long! "And why lock the door?" She questioned me curiously.

Ignoring her previous question, she wolf-whistled and exclaimed with excitement, "Ahlam, you look absolutely beautiful Masha'Allah. If Aahil could see you, he would have fainted at your feet."

If only you knew. I thought to myself with a hidden smile as the heat rushed up my cheeks.

"You too Hania. "Maybe someone will ask for your hand after my wedding," I told her, but she just shrugged and said she was not prepared. I gave her a gentle nudge as she was lost in thought.

"Hey! You okay?" I asked

She revealed some information about a guy she likes, which made me laugh, but I promised her it would be kept private.

Hania checked the time and, like a boss, said, "Now, go downstairs." I will explain more to you at the appropriate time, okay?"

I replied by faking a cough, and she simply smiled and looked away shyly.

Holding her hand tightly in my right hand, we walked out of the room and down the hall to the ladies who were waiting, praying that no backbiting would occur. They were dressed in vibrant colours ranging from yellow to green, and they were all beautifully made up. I was the only one who did not wear any makeup because I was the bride. Was it just me, or did every girl experience this phase in which all attention is focused on one girl? .

Hania led me into the room where all of my relatives and close friends were waiting, making my hands shiver with fear and my throat dry from the unexpected. As soon as they stepped into the room, the dholki started and the entertainment started. Though I really dislike being the center of attention, I decided to go with the flow because, insha'Allah, this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

When I kissed Aahil's mother in person, some of the women laughed, and even though a female photographer was hired for the event, Hania excused herself to take her own pictures, probably of Aahil, I assumed with a smile.

After aunty Faiza guided me to a seat in the center of the plush pink carpet, a skilled henna artist got to work on my right hand. As the nerves faded, happiness and excitement replaced them.

I was astounded to see the festive women wearing flower petal bangles similar to mine gathered around one of the many colorful pillows. Some even started singing and dancing to Asian music, while others took turns feeding me various foods and desserts.

There were colorful iced cookies with henna designs, cupcakes, baklava, kebabs and chicken tikka, halwa puri, palak ghasht, kheer, and much more. The room's décor and design were stunning, with vibrant pink, yellow, blue, orange, and green bouquets of flowers, cushions, and fabric awnings. A photobooth and a flower-covered scooter bike were also present.

Hania took hold of a dholki and began to play as I watched in admiration, all while being fed by the women. I felt like a princess sitting there with my hand outstretched to the henna artist, who was applying a design that Aahil had personally chosen for my hands and feet Masha'Allah.

The henna artist looked at me with a puzzled expression before turning to aunty Faiza, who simply glared at her and warned her to follow my orders. She did not dare ask why, but I was not lifting my left arm, so she did not ask again. I heard whispers but ignored them, and then a smile spread across my face as I remembered how Aunty stood by her words and supported me.

The mehndi ceremony continued until the majority of the women had simple henna designs on their hands and took to the dance floor. They tried to coerce me into dancing on several occasions, but I always refused with the help of aunty Faiza.

Soon, the guests hugged and kissed me goodbye and left for their homes. Hania nudged my shoulder and poked out her tongue childishly.

"I am sleeping with you today, sis," she smiled.

I looked at her with surprise, "Oh no! What if Aahil returns as he promised? I thought to myself.

I tried to talk to Hania about it, but it was pointless because as soon as uncle Firoz returned from the men's function on the other side, he began to describe how much fun it was.

He walked up to me and told me, as a father would tell his daughter, about a few responsibilities I should be aware of, and I agreed. With my right arm full of Aahil's beautiful chosen crystal embedded henna design, he stood there smiling at me, kissing my forehead and patting my head, telling me how beautiful I looked and how lucky his son is.

I could see his eyes shining and prayed he would not cry, but he simply blessed me and reminded me that whenever I decide to take a step forward, I should always prioritize respect and never turn away from problems. implying that guys can be stubborn, and I was his wisest soon-to-be daughter, Alhamdulillah. Was he warning me about Aahil? I responded with a smile and a nod.

"Come on, Ahlam!" Hania yelled from the stairwell.

Smiling at her family, I said "ahlamun speed," which means sweet dreams, and kissed aunty and uncle's hands before running upstairs to Hania.

Hania stood in the middle of the room, her back to the window. She was about to turn when I noticed Aahil's face emerge.

My eyes widened in surprise, prompting me to act spontaneously, hugging Hania so she could not turn.

"Wow, sis! Do not get overly emotional. "It is fine," she laughed.

"I love you a lot, Hania!" I whispered.

The things I do for you, Aahil. WHAT!? Did I just say, "My Aahil?" Ya Allah! This guy.

I glared at Aahil, and he simply laughed at my misery.

"You can let me go now, Ahlam!" I felt uncomfortable as Hania spoke.

"No! I would like a long, bear hug." I replied.

I looked at Aahil, who waved me off with a flying kiss and said I should give him a call later.

Rather than shaking my head to let him know I was not going to be calling, I simply nodded, to which he winked and vanished. I let go of Hania, smiled at her shocked expression, and she called me insane.

My bed was placed in the center of the room, with the window on the left and the bathroom on the right. After a painful attempt to change my clothing.

After painfully changing our clothes to avoid ruining our henna, Hania jumped into the bed to the left.

"No, Hania!" "Do you mind sleeping on the right?" I ask her.

Her eyes widened in confusion because I had never minded before, but she obeyed and rolled to the right.

Hania fell asleep immediately after we discussed the day's events, informing me to try to sleep as well; an order from Aahil, the boss. Turning off the nightlight on the bedstand, I lay there waiting for my nearly-dead henna to dry a little more... or was that just an excuse? A smile not leaving my face.

My henna began to c***k, and I became restless, but I was told to wait until the next morning to wash it. I opened the patio doors and breathed in the night air as I slowly crept out of bed. I then noticed a figure waving at me below.

"Was it Aahil?" I asked myself. "Not again! Can he not wait until our Nikkah?"

My phone beeped and I quickly run to the nightstand to pick it up to see a message from Aahil.

Yes, it was him.

I turned to go back to the patio and gasped in shock. Aahil was standing there and I shook my head in disapproval and walked towards him.

He grabbed me from my waist and softly kissed me on my cheek.

"Aahil, you should leave" I whispered in his ear.

"Two months you made me wait, never talking more than three sentences. I kept myself busy at work to try and avoid you. It's fun to see your reaction when I meet you in secret" he teased, while I kept glancing back at Hania. She kept moving but remained asleep.

"The wait will be worth" I whispered back to him without looking at him directly.

"Is that so? I came to see how you were doing after mom told me how some ladies questioned you about your hand" his voice held concerned. So, he heard.

I looked down hiding my hand. What must he be thinking? It's so odd, only one hand is okay while the other can hardly move. How will I manage when we are officially married?

"I will be by your side," he said as if he read my thoughts.

"You know you still have time. You can back out of this marriage and marry any girl you want" I said painfully, without looking up at his reaction.