"WHAT?!"
Well, this wasn't unexpected. I say to myself looking at the shock on my family's faces after I announced my decision.
"I have agreed to lead the Heritage project," I repeat, more carefully this time. My gaze moved from Layla, Ayra Khala, Haadi Uncle, Ma, Papa, Nana, and Nani who gaped at me in return.
"Are you sure about this?" Layla asked as though to confirm.
I nod. "Spoke to George earlier today and he was over the moon."
"But this isn't even about him." Ayra Khala retorted. "It's about you and your career, and your life. Have you given away all of that to please someone, Muaaz?"
A frown took over my face. "I didn't do all of this to please him or anyone. This is my decision." I stressed.
"To take a risk?" Layla prodded, to which I just shrugged in return.
"Maybe."
"For how long will you be staying there? And who else is going with you?" Papa asked.
"I have no idea and no one. It's just me the whole time."
Layla began clapping her hands and I rolled my eyes at her. She caught my reaction and tilted her head to the side. I raise my brows, silently asking 'really?'. 'I don't know what else to say to you.' She conveyed with a shake of her head and bouncing her shoulders.
"Accommodation?" Ma inquired.
"Hayy," I confirm.
"Accomodation ki kiya zaroorat? Humara ghar hai. Fahad ka ghar hai." All heads snapped in Nana's direction so quickly, I wondered if their necks were ok. All except for Layla and I.
Fahad?
"Uske paas jaane ki koi zaroorat nahi hai." Papa announced in a sharp tone.
From the corner of my eyes, I noticed Layla silently asking what was up with the jerk of her chin. Jutting my lower lip outward, I reply I don't know.
"Office accommodation provide karra wahi kafi hai. If you want more space, your Ma can get Muqam-e-Ibrahim cleaned for you."
"Ohkay." I say, definitely missing something here.
"When do you leave?" Ma asked.
"In 2 weeks."
The fact of the matter is, I am done. I am done playing safe, done chickening out, done listening to my mind. Instincts? Maybe not. Because they still pushed me towards saying no, don't jeopardize my career, and putting an end to the whole thing.
But deep down, I wanted to take a risk. Break free of the safety net I involuntarily created for myself. I've been banking successful projects all these years, and I am grateful for that. But none of them were as wild as this one.
I'd mostly worked with Europeans, be it Turkey, Spain, Scotland whatever. None of them were from outside. And all of them were more or less the same in many ways. I was sick of the same.
Hence, this is a rebellion against me.
"I love the fact that you're going rogue." I chuckle at Layla's words. "Not complete rogue but at least you're getting there. You've already taken the first step."
"I have taken the first step, yeah." We were in the backyard of our house, nursing a cuppa each. It was a warm summer night, dark cloudless skies above with the sound of crickets playing in the background.
"How do you feel?" She asked softly, swinging back and forth on the jhoola. There was no moon today, so we were left with whatever light came from inside the house behind us.
I slowly shake my head, sucking in a deep breath. "Confident. . .?"
"Yeah?"
"I don't feel stupid, at least."
"Which is a good sigh." She offers, taking a sip of her tea.
"More than a good sign," I add, honestly. I wasn't even having second thoughts. Yet. And it's better if we don't go there.
"Excited?"
"Not sure."
"You should be. It's about time you spread your wings, Moozy." Layla punches my forearm softly, takes my empty cup from my hand, and strolls into the house.
⚜️
The next couple of days were spent shopping which included all the three generations of women in my family dragging me from one store to another. This was my first since usually, it would be just Layla and me, and not Nani, khala, and Ma as a bonus. Nani would pick something up which Ma would approve of but Ayra Khala didnt. Then she'd go and fetch clothes, jewelry, and accessories according to her taste that the other two wouldn't like. It would take hours and hours for the trio to decide on one thing that is liked by all three. And I was clearly not having the best time of my life.
"This is for Saira, that's for Maryam, this shawl is for Hafsa aunty, that perfume is for Maqsood uncle." Ma went on, unpacking all the things we managed to collect over the shopping sprees and dumping them on my childhood bed.
"Who are all these people?" Layla whispered, standing next to me with our backs to the wardrobe.
"I'd tell you if I knew but I don't know anyone of them."
"Have we met them before?" She questioned.
"I have, I guess. Not you."
"When you were a baby?"
"Older than a baby." I snort.
"Where is the bag?" Ma mumbles, rummaging through the mess. "That pretty beige thing we got for Muskaan--"
"This one?" I ask Ma, holding up the one I had near my feet.
"Oh, there you are!" She sighs, placing it inside the luggage, among other things.
"Aunty, who is Muskaan?" Inquisitive Layla asked.
"Saira's daughter."
"Who is Saira?" I inquired.
"My cousin sister," Ma answered. I could see the twinkle in her eyes as she spoke about this Saira lady. I can't recall where I heard her name, but I might've over the years a couple of times. "My sweet little Turkey."
She picked up another handbag, an absent-minded smile on her face. "It's been so many years since I met her. And her darling daughter Muskaan."
"Were you close?" I asked in a soft tone.
"We didn't meet regularly like you and Layla. She lived in the States before moving to India after getting married to Fahad."
Fahad. The person mentioned that night.
Layla and I share a look.
"Who is Fahad?"
Ma tensed at the mention of the name and went mum for a good minute.
"Is this person dead?" I whisper, leaning into Layla's ear. She gasped, smacking my hand in return.
"You bought him a set of perfume and watch yourself. He should be alive and kicking to wear both. We don't get gifts for dead people, Moozy."
"Oh, yeah." Turning back to my mother, I call out slightly louder this time. "Ma!"
She startles in her spot, looking around frantically before her eyes land on us. "Huh?"
"Who is Fahad? And what is the matter with this guy?"
"Fahad," She starts slowly, putting away all the things and sweeping the bed clear so she could sit on it. "Fahad is your father's best friend. More like a brother since he didn't have any siblings of his own. They grew up around each other, and went to the same school and university until we got married and Wajih moved here with me."
"Why is Aunty talking about someone moving from somewhere to somewhere these days?" Layla muttered.
Deciding to ignore her comment, I proceed with my query. "Are they cross with each other for some reason?"
Ma sighs at my question before nodding in confirmation. I open my mouth to ask some more questions, but close it back again seeing none of it were of concern to me.
"I'll try and be nice to him when I pay him a visit." I offer, earning a nod of approval from Layla.
"About that," Ma said, pushing to her feet. "I've decided you won't be staying at any hotel."
"What. . .do you mean?" My brows draw together.
"You'll be staying at Barkat."
"Barkat?" Layla intervened.
"Muaz," Ma cast me with one of her many gazes that still managed to send chills down my spine. "You will be staying at Fahad's house your entire stay."
She did not just throw me into the lion's den.
Aye, duniya banane wale, kyu banai ye duniya with so many complications in it?
Bidding farewell to Karamat's Uncle, I push the back door of his car open and step on the gravel that paved the way to the majestic iron gates of Barkat Villa. As though coming home after a long day at work wasn't enough, my mind started to make a mental list of all the things that I needed to do for the next day. My hand reaches for the doorbell but before I can push it, the front door is pulled open, revealing a panic-stricken Farha.
"What's wrong?" I ask. "Why do you look so--"
My questions were cut short when a crashing sound reached my ears, startling me. It had come from the inside of the house.
Were they burglars in there? My creative mind wandered, going full hero mode on me.
Pushing Farha behind me with a hand, I reach for the hockey stick we have right behind the door and grab for it.
"Baji, it's not--"
"Shhh!" I press a finger to my lips. "They shouldn't know we are here with a hockey stick ready to attack them," I whisper, turning my attention back to the foyer and taking cautious steps inside. Adrenaline mixed with glee rushed through me at the prospect of breaking some bones.
I noticed the lights in the living room were on. I quickly scanned the area and there was nothing out of place from what I could see. Were there really burglars in the house? How did Farha manage to get to the door in light of they were inside? Or were there no burglars at all?
With the hockey stick still raised in the air, ready to attack anyone or anything that seemed suspicious, I stepped into the living room. And what I saw was probably worse than a burglary, especially with the eerie silence that had engulfed the place. Looking over my shoulder, I see Farha with a blank expression.
Present in front of me was every single member of the house, right from Dada jaan who sat on the couch resting his head on the handle of his cane as though in the midst of an urgent prayer accompanied by Dadi jaan to Farha behind me. Machi, Ranchu, Fatty, Mumma standing on one side with fear-stricken faces, and Abbu on the other side looking as wild as a bull who has been teased and poked with a red cloth. Between them was a broken vase whose shards of glass mixed with water and the fresh bouquet of lilies I had ordered only two days ago lay like a line that had been drawn between my father and everyone else.
What is going on here?
"Is there a problem?" I asked no one in particular because none of them responded. Maybe they didn't feel the need to.
"Why would you go behind my back and invite his son to our house like that, Saira?!" Abbu demanded in such a thunderous voice, that I felt the tremors reach me even from such a distance.
"What is the problem with him staying with us? He is family."
"You know exactly what the problem is. And still, you pulled your pathetic stunt. Meri izzat ka khayal nahi aaya ? Meri self-respect ka Ehsaas nahi hua?"
"Not everything is about you, Fahad," Mummy said icily. "And problem tumko Dulha bhai se hai. Not his son. It is extremely childish of you to behave the way you're doing right now."
"I am childish for putting my self-esteem above everything? Are you kidding me? And you think I'll let him stay with me under the same roof?"
"Again, I have not offered Dulha bhai to come stay with us here but his son. And yes I think he will stay with us for as long as he is in Hyderabad."
My heart rammed in my ribcage when Abbu stepped on the puddle of water and pieces of glass. Thank Allah for the slippers he was wearing because looking at the rage he was blinded in, I doubt he'd care about cutting himself.
"Sonch lo, Saira." His voice dropped dangerously low, sending chills down my spine. "You wouldn't like to see how things end up otherwise."
Mummy met his icy stare with her own, surprising me. "I'm still the Junglee Billi you'd met all those years ago, Fahad. I won't let you ruin the poor child's first trip ever. And you will end the feud with his father on your own, that I promise you."
"You're going to face the consequences of this stupid mission you've taken upon yourself." He snarled. "Ek baar aur sonch lo. You're jeopardizing our relationship for a battle that is not yours to fight."
I watch mummy swallow, her Adam's apple slowly moving downward. "Sonch liya." She nearly whispered, keeping her gaze fixed on his.
Abbu gives her a nod, blinks his eyes, and steps away. "Ok. Fine!" He throws his hand up in the air, as though in disbelief.
"Fine!" Mummy hollers.
"Karo jo karna hai!" Abbu yells, spinning on his heel. "I'd warned you!"
"I don't need your warnings. Just stop acting like a child and learn to let things go!"
"Oh, I will let things go. Just pray it isn't you."
My heart sank at his parting words, tears of shock stinging my eyes.
I'd never seen my parents like this before. Screaming and calling each other out. They barely fought. None of the couples at Barkat ever fought. That was the quality that set them apart from the world. A quality I admired the most.
But after today, I don't know anymore. Abbu was breathing fire, Mummy wasn't having any of it, and the rest of us just watched like a useless audience.
And who on this planet was Dulha bhai? And why is his son suddenly coming to stay with us? And what had happened between our fathers?
All these questions played in my mind like a PowerPoint presentation. I wanted answers but looking at the way Abbu stoned his way up the stairs, Mummy was silently weeping on the couch and everyone else comforting her, I figured now was not the time to play detective.
But I knew one thing for sure.
Whoever the guest in residence was going to be, I hated him already.
🚹🚫
Oohhh! Drama!! That was a shocker, wasn't it? Read on to know how the story unfolds. 💗
Sending love your way ❤️