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*

Hania

Before I was meant to go shopping with Zoya Mumani, early the next morning the lawyer visited. I imagined multiple scenarios from various TV dramas where the lawyer announces something shocking, and everyone started hating each other. As it turned out, I watch too any dramas.

Our entire family, plus Fariha Phupho's entire family was present. Dado was in the room, but hidden out of sight as she was still in idaah.

*Idaah: The mourning period for widows in Islam.

As expected, Papa and Fariha Phupho were given their shares as per the Islamic laws of inheritance, with Papa getting double. But then there was an additional part to Dada Jaan's will. 

"I have set aside certain assets for each of my grandchildren." The lawyer read out from the will. "For the three sons of my beloved Fariha, I have given an equal amount of money..." The amount of money that the lawyer read out was shocking, to say the least. It could support each of them for years to come. "And for Hania and Iman, my beautiful princesses, I leave behind not only the family home, but our property in Old Lahore, the one where my family and I used to reside in, and had been passed down to me. I also wish to leave behind an equal amount of money for Fawad's daughters." This amount (for each of us) was even larger.

"Papa." I whispered, stunned. "What are we going to do with all that? That's too much burden." 

"Do not harbour any negative feelings towards each other." The lawyer read. "I've seen unfair discrimination towards daughters in my family, with the exception of Fariha, of course. I want to ensure that my Hania and Iman will never ever face anything like that after marriage."

"Papa was always fair." Fariha Phupho muttered, tearfully. "He never treated me different from Fawad Bhai."

"Maybe I can pay for my Creative Writing course now?" I whispered to Papa again, wide eyed.

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Hania." 

****

"I want to take the burden off you and Mama." I protested.

The lawyer and Fariha Phupho's family had left, and Dado had gone up for a nap. It was just the four of us now.

"Yeah, you could spend the money to take Mama out on dates instead." Iman grinned. Mama slapped her arm lightly, cheeks pink.

"Hania, your Dada Jaan left this money for you both." Papa said. "Not so that you can give it to me." 

"Sons are investments, daughters are burdens." Iman muttered, dramatically.

"What TV show have you been binge watching, you freak?" I asked her and she burst out laughing.

"F**k it. I'm not a burden. I'm their pride, the future doctor, In Sha Allah." Iman winked at me.

"Iman, language*!" Our parents spoke in unison.

*I guess that's what Fawad gets for swearing in front of his parents :D. My own parents keep telling me that the way we treat/behave in front of our parents comes back to us. Not that I swear...I wouldn't dare lol. 

Wait. Was that a dig at me? Because I won't be a doctor? I felt a little bad at that comment.

"Neither of you are burdens to us, no matter what you decide." Mama said. "You both are the biggest blessings of our lives."

"I wish I could be a doctor." I hadn't meant to say that out loud. "But I'm too stupid." 

"Don't say that." Papa wrapped an arm around my shoulders. "You're an incredibly smart person, Hania."

"It's funny. I used to say the exact same thing, jaan." Mama told me. "But then this really wise man," She looked at Papa. "Told me that you don't only have to be good in Sciences or Maths to be considered intelligent. Everybody has their own talent, in different fields and subjects."

"I think it's better if you live off your inheritance, Appi." Iman was meant to be joking, I think, but her words were like arrows shot straight to my heart. "Because every job requires communicating with strangers."

"Iman, that's an awful thing to say." Papa told her off. "You have no right to make fun of someone's anxiety. You plan to be a doctor and you don't realise that it's a condition that people seriously suffer from?"

"And I know thatmy Hania will be successful in whatever she does." Mama smiled at me."She doesn't even realise her own potential yet." 

What kind of a person was I? My own parents still defend me like I'm six! I got up and rushed out of the room.

I heard them tell Iman off again as I ran up the stairs.

Iman and I adored each other, but sometimes I got the feeling that she intentionally said things to hurt me. 

****

Fortunately, Zoya Mumani arrived soon to pick me up. 

Iman was going with Mama to the Sheikh family home, as Nazia Mumani had invited her over. Iman planned on creating chaos with the Cheeky Bunch. 

I had grown closer to Zoya Mumani when I was too young to even remember. But Mama tells me how attached I was to her. She used to play with me for hours without getting bored, remaining as patient as ever, even if I asked her to play the same game a million times. 

"Papa?" I shyly called out to my father, who was in the kitchen making coffee, as Mama and Mumani were chatting over something in the living room.

"Yes, meri jaan?" He looked up at me as he stirred the spoon in the coffee. 

"Can I have some pocket money?" I asked, blushing. "Since I'm going out anyway, I wanted to buy some earrings and bangles. I know Dada Jaan just passed away, and I hate to ask..."

He smiled in amusement. "No problem. I'll get some for you now." He headed out immediately, leaving his coffee behind, as Mama came into the kitchen. 

"Mama, why were you so worried about me going out with Mumani? You trust Zoya Mumani and she's one of your besties, right?" I whispered. I had noticed how uncertain she had looked about the idea of me going out without either of my parents.

"I trust her completely. I'm just being silly. I'm just always worried about you." She tucked a lock of my hair behind my ear. "But please, please stay with Mumani all the time, and don't forget to take my phone, okay? I'll actually ask your Papa to get you and Iman local sim packages for situations like these." 

In Lahore, Iman and I never went out alone. Ninety-nine percent of the times, Mama and/or Papa were with us, and if they weren't then at least one of our uncles or aunts were there. But I think I understood Mama's fear. She once told me that I got lost in Lahore, even though she didn't give me the details, and that day had been one of the worst days of her life. She had been pregnant with Iman, and she said that she'd felt that her heart would stop that day. 

Papa came back downstairs and handed me a decent amount of cash.

"Not that much!" I gasped.

"Take it. You hardly ask me for anything." He said.

"That because Mama asks for way too much." I teased my mother and Papa laughed.

"Allah! Fawad! She was the only one on my side and you've turned her like yourself as well." Mama glared at him.

I hugged Mama. "I love you." Then I hugged Papa. "Both of you."

"Appppppi!" Iman ran down the stairs. "Papa gave us extra cash today, so can you get some stuff for nose rings and bracelets and necklaces. You know the kind that I like!"

"Come with me." I said,

"I can't. I need to see my gang, and we need to plot new schemes.." She handed me her share of the money, while smirking cheekily at our parents. Then she raced out and headed up the stairs.

I went upstairs, changed and got my small purse, before returning downstairs. Saying goodbye to my parents, we left. 

****

"So, Hania, what do you like to shop for?" Zoya Mumani slid her arm through mine as we walked into a bazaar. 

"Bangles and earrings." I admitted. "I also like doing Eid shopping as well, for clothes, but I wish that one day I can do it in Lahore. It would be so much fun! I want to actually experience a Chand Raat here."

*Chand Raat (exact translation: moon night), is the night before Eid when the sighting of the moon determines if the next day would be Eid or not. In Pakistan, it is a very lively night, with shopping areas filled with shoppers and mehendi artists, late into the night.

"In that sense, you're like me. I wasn't much of a shower in my teenage years, or even in my early twenties." She said. "But I always adored shoes. Needle heels, as your Mamu calls them." 

I laughed at that. "Mamu is funny." 

"No doubt about that." She grinned.

The area was very busy, and Zoya Mumani held onto my arm to keep me close to her. We bought a few items for her cultural event that she was organising for her charity, and then she took me to a jewellery shop. 

"Hania, I'm just going to be in the shop right over there." She pointed to the shop across the busy street. "I'll be back in two minutes, okay? Stay here and select whatever you want." 

"Okay, Mumani." I nodded, my gaze focused on the jhumka earrings. I was a huge fan of the traditional chandelier earrings, and when I was a kid, I used to rummage through Mama's collection (in her presence, of course), and held them against my face as I looked at myself in the mirror.

"Beta, can I show you something?" The shopkeeper asked me in Urdu.

I shook my head. "I'm just looking myself at the moment. Thank you." I kept glancing towards the shop where Mumani had gone, keeping her in my sight. 

A few minutes later, I turned again and  didn't see her in the shop...or anywhere. I began to panic. "Mumani?" 

I rushed to the door of the shop, looking around, but there was no sign of her. 

Stay in the shop. My inner voice told me.

My heart was pounding hard, and my skin felt cold. I was trembling and I hugged myself as breathing became harder. I was having a panic attack. 

This worsened when I realised that I had forgotten to bring Mama's phone. She had given it to me to keep it in my purse when I'd gone upstairs to change, but I had forgotten it on the dressing table. 

"Hania, phone rakh liya hai na, jaan?" Mama had asked as I had gotten in the car with Mumani.

*"Hania, you have kept the phone, right sweetheart?" 

"Yes, Mama." I had absent-mindedly replied, thinking of my own phone.

Okay, think logically, Hania. You have your phone. Find a place with a WiFi and call Mumani. It's as simple as that.

This shop didn't have one. I'd have to leave it to go find another place for a WiFi. 

No, Hania. Stay in here. Mumani will be right back. 

Minutes passed by, and my heart was beating at a rapid pace. Where was Zoya Mumani? 

A couple of men entered the shop, and I started to feel uncomfortable, even as I draped a dupatta over my head. The shop is right there. I can go and see Mumani there. It's not a problem.

My legs were shaking as I exited the shop. The heat of Lahore immediately made my clothes stick to my skin and I stepped across the crowded street towards the shop were I'd last seen Mumani.

A loud beeping of a motorcycle passing through the crowd made me gasp and jump out of the way, just in time. My shalwar caught under the bottom of my flat shoes, and I almost fell. I held onto the metal railing that led up some staircase to a small grocery shop.

Because we had needed cultural items, Mumani had brought me to a bazaar, rather than a mall that I was usually taken to. 

My chest began to tighten up and tears welled in my eyes. "M-Mumani..." 

I spotted the back of her head at the end of the busy street and I walked towards her, rushing through the crowd. But then when I got closer, I just realised that it wasn't Mumani at all. I'd just been deceived by the curly hair that strongly resembled Ahad Mamu's wife's.

Ya Allah! I turned back around to go back to the shop, but I saw the shutters being lowered of all shops. It was Asr time, and the shopkeepers were heading to the mosques nearby to pray. The shop that Mumani had gone into had also closed. 

Zoya Mumani, where are you?

****

Zoya

I got a phone call from Noor, and I stepped out of the shop and walked a little further down the street to get better reception, knowing that Hania would listen to me and stay in the shop. "Noor, speak up, beta. It's very loud here!"

"Mama, I'm getting strong period pains and I think I have ran out of sanitary pads. Can you please buy some while you're out there?" She sounded close to tears.

Noor had terrible cramps when she had periods, causing her to cry often. I'd taken her to the doctor once because I was worried, but there was nothing to worry about. Unfortunately, some people just got bad pains during their period, that was all.

"I will, but in the meantime check with Tayi Jaan, or Phupho." I advised her.

*Tayi Jaan: father's older brother's wife. In this case, Nazia.

"I feel embarrassed." She complained. 

"Baby, it's nothing to be embarrassed about. We've all been through it. Ask Iman or Amara if there's an issue." 

I chatted to her for a while and when the call ended, I headed back to the shop and looked into the jewellery shop, but I didn't see Hania. "Hania?!" I looked around, and to the shop where I'd been, but she wasn't there.

"Bhai, woh ladki kahan hai jo is shop main thi?" I asked the shopkeeper of the jewellery store.

*"Brother, where is the girl who was in this shop?" 

"Woh to kahin chali gayi." He stepped back from the counter. "Maaf karna, behan, laikin ab humain bhi namaaz padhne jaana hai. Dukaan band karni paday gi."

*"She left."
"Forgive me, sister, but now we have to go and pray as well. We have to shut the shop."

Ya Allah! Where could Hania have gone?

I headed out of the store and looked around, tensed. Hania was relatively short, and could easily be missed in the crowd of people. "Hania beta!" I was in tears, worried sick for that sweet, innocent girl.

"Hania!" I called out, helplessly.

If Hania got lost, how will I face Jasmina and Fawad Bhai? 

****

Hania

Deep breaths. I was having a serious panic attack now, and I almost doubled over. 

When I got a panic attack, logic escapes my mind completely. The world spun in front of my eyes, and every breath came out with a tremendous effort. My heart was completely losing the plot and tears were endlessly falling out, as if there were taps running behind my eyes.

Mama, I need you. 

I stepped away from the busy street into a narrow side alley, trying to calm myself down.

'Meri taraf dekho. Gehre saans lo, andar, bahar.' Papa's soothing voice came into my head, and I closed my eyes and pictured myself staring into his eyes.

*"Look at me. Take deep breaths, inhale, exhale."

He and Mama always expertly guided me whenever I got panic attacks, but now I was alone. I had nobody with me. Allah knows where Zoya Mumani was. 

I have to get back and find Mumani. I need to be stronger, for my own sake this time. I firmly told myself and came back out onto the busier street. Looking around, I headed back to the shop where I had been before, until I realised that I had come in the wrong direction. My brain was so fogged up with panic that I had no idea where I was going.

"Hania!" Mumani's voice made me whirl around, and I finally saw her.

"Mumani!" I called out, my voice cracking.

She turned and saw me, relief flooding her face instantly. "Oh, Hani!" She rushed over and pulled me into her arms. "Are you okay? Allah! I was so worried about you! Where did you go?" 

I was crying hard in her arms, scared to death.

"Come, let's get you something to drink and then I'll take you back home, okay?" She said a short while later. "Ya Allah, tera shukar hai!" She glanced up towards the sky.

*"Oh Allah, I'm very grateful to you!" 

She slid her arm through mine, and gently guided me towards the car parking, where we had to wait for the family driver. Mumani hadn't driven herself today, and had chosen to bring the family driver, as she still wasn't familiar with these areas.

As we waited, I stayed close to Mumani, and she didn't let go of me either.

"Are you okay?" She asked me, softly.

I nodded.

"I'm so sorry, Hania." She was in tears even now.

"Please don't apologise, Mumani. You asked me to stay inside, but a couple of men entered the shop and it was a small shop so I didn't feel comfortable, so I came out." 

"May Allah always protect your sweet, innocent soul. Ameen." She ran a hand over my head. "I'm a mother of a daughter, and the thought of putting someone else's daughter in such a position, even unintentionally?" She took a shallow breath. "And not just anyone else's daughter, but our Hania." 

"I w-won't tell Mama and Papa, if you want." I hated the idea of keeping a secret from them, but I also hated the idea of them thinking that Mumani wasn't responsible enough.

"No, meri jaan. Tell them." She said. "You should never keep anything from your parents. In fact, I'll tell them. I think that I should be the one to tell them that their daughter almost got lost because of my negligence."

"Mumani, that's not true." I squeezed her hand.

"Hania?" 

I turned and was surprised to see Hamza Daniyal standing by the door of the driving seat of a sleek black car. "Hamza?" 

Mumani looked at me puzzled. "Hania, who is this?"

"Mumani, this is Hamza. He's the son of Papa's friend. Hamza, this is my Zoya Mumani." I introduced them.

"Assalam Alaikum." Hamza said, politely. 

"Walaikum Assalam." Mumani replied.

"If you both are waiting for a ride, I can drop you off wherever you need to go." Hamza offered.

"It's okay, beta." Mumani told him as I draped my dupatta tighter around my head. "We're waiting for our family driver."

"There's a lot of traffic coming into this area, Aunty." He said. "I got stuck for forty minutes myself. I can drive you, no problem." 

"Let me just check with the family driver." Mumani nodded. She called him on the phone, and it turned out that Hamza was right. The driver was stuck in traffic on the way over. "Fine, Hamza, beta. Take us to Hania's family home, please." 

He nodded, and held open the back door for us. 

"Thank you again for the inconvenience, beta." Mumani told Hamza as he drove away from the bazaar that I would probably have nightmares about.

"It's not an inconvenience at all, Aunty." He said. "My Papa's home is not too far from Fawad Uncle's home. It's not a trouble for me." 

I was staring into my lap, playing with my charm bracelet. There was a teddy charm, a 'H' charm, a heart shape charm and a butterfly charm on it. Mama used to call me her 'butterfly', and still does when she's feeling extra affectionate towards me. When I grew up and I asked her why she called me that, she told me that when she was pregnant with me, she felt butterflies in her stomach a lot of the times, especially when Papa spoke. She said that I'd seemed to recognise his voice before I was even born. 

"Actually," Hamza cleared his throat. "I have a younger cousin sister, Rabia. She's my Phupho's daughter and she lost her parents at a very young age, so Papa became her guardian and took her in, being her only mehram. Every time she asks for something, I have to go and get it for her. She likes the jalebis from a shop in this area."

"That's sweet of you." Mumani smiled. "What do you do, Hamza?" 

"I help my father out in his own property business, but I'm a professional photographer. I run my own e-zine, Global Wonders, where I upload photos of all the beautiful places that I travel to. It's my passion, and it's who I am, I guess."

"Ma Sha Allah." Mumani said, 

"I was never into business, but being my father's only child, I have to help him out. It's my duty, right?" 

"If only other sons realise that as well." Mumani seemed impressed. "How does your Papa know Fawad Bhai?" 

"Papa actually ended up being a patient of his once. Uncle performed surgery on him." Hamza explained. "And those how two Lahoris became friends, I guess." 

Finally, we arrived at my family home, and I immediately got out, after muttering a quick, "Thank you". I didn't mean to be rude, but I was eager to see Mama. Mumani saw Hamza off, after repeatedly thanking him, and we both headed inside the house.

I was just craving a hug from Mama, and Zoya Mumani was just about to tell her the truth, when I noticed my mother's expression: she had been crying. 

"Jasmina, you okay?" Mumani noticed as well.

"I'm fine. We just experienced a tragedy in the family, so I guess I'm just overwhelmed." Mama said. 

And so, when Mumani hugged me goodbye, she whispered in my ear, "I'll tell her at a better time." 

"Mama, what's wrong?" I asked my mother after Mumani had left. The Ali family driver was giving her a ride back to her home. "Did you and Papa have an argument?" 

They had a rule. Their argument never reached us, because they didn't let it. Even if they were in a fight, they kept it civil in front of us. But one thing I'd rarely ever seen: Mama crying because of a fight with Papa. 

"No, your Papa isn't even home." She averted her gaze.

"What did Iman do now?" I asked, immediately, knowing very well that if anyone in the family could make Mama cry, it was Iman. 

****

Jasmina

"Iman, listen to me!" 

We'd just arrived home from my brothers' house, before Hani returned, and I was furious with Iman for showing me so much attitude.

"You humiliated me in front of everyone, Mama!" She whirled around to accuse me.

"I didn't say anything to you in front of anyone, Iman! I just asked you to come outside and talk to me, and when we were alone, I asked you to stay in your limits while with Ibrahim!" I couldn't believe how she was talking to me. 

Actually, that was a lie. She often talked to me like that...but only in Fawad's absence. She knew very well that I wouldn't tell him about her behaviour with me, and she took advantage of that. 

Kyunke agar unhain pata chalgaya to Iman ke saare kharchay aur aish-o-aram band ho jayega.

*Because if he find out, Iman's pocket money and luxuries will come to an end.

"He's like a brother to me! What did I do wrong?!" Iman looked bewildered.

"He's not your brother though, is he?!" I snapped. "He's not a biological son to me and Fawad, which means that he's a non-mehram to you! You were in his lap, Iman! Would you dare do that in your father's or Arhaan Mamu's presence?" 

"I was trying to get the remote from him, Mama! Why are you thinking so cheaply?" 

I felt like she'd slapped me.

"Yeh kis tarhan baat kar rahi ho apni Maa se?" 

*"How are you talking to your mother?" 

Oh no.

My mother-in-law, already not a fan of Iman, came down the hall, frowning at Iman. 

"She's acting like I'm dating Ibrahim or something!" Iman rolled her eyes.

"Iman, yeh kya badtameezi hai? Dado ka to lehaz karlo!" I yelled at her this time.

*"Iman, what is this insolence? At least show your Dado some regard!"

Iman's jaw clenched and she glared at me. "Why do you suddenly care what I do? It's always 'Hani this, Hani that' with you. Papa still cares about me, even just a little bit, but you don't give a s**t! You don't care if I live or die!" She ran up the stairs to her room.

I put my hand over my stomach, feeling sick, as I reeled with the harshness of my daughter's words. 

"Anay do Fawad ko." Ammi put a comforting hand on my arm. "Aaj is maslay ka hal nikalay woh khud." 

*"Let Fawad come."
"Let him find a solution to this problem."

I was too stunned to argue. I wanted to beg her not to tell Fawad, but I had nothing left in me to even open my mouth.

Hania and Zoya Bhabi arrived shortly after that, distracting me a little.

But Iman had well and truly crushed my maternal heart into pieces.

****

Despite numerous attempts, I couldn't stop crying in the privacy of my own bedroom. I knew that I had to get a grip before my husband returned, because he would be absolutely furious if he saw me like this and realised the cause. And he would get to the bottom of it if I'm sad, so it was best for me to stay calm.

I'd managed to tell Ammi not to tell him anything. I'd told her that I'd handle it in my own way, but my own way was to keep silent. 

I washed my face, rubbing off any traces of tears, and settled back in bed before he got there. 

But I was so lost in my thoughts when he came back, that I didn't even notice him until he called out my name.

"Mina?" 

I jumped, staring up at him, startled. "A-Assalam Alaikum."

"Walaikum Assalam." He leaned down to give me a quick peck on the lips. "You okay? What's wrong?" Turning around, he headed to the bathroom to wash up first.

"Just tired. Shall I heat up dinner?" 

"No, I ate with Arhaan." He replied. "You had yours?" 

"No, I'm not hungry." 

He came back out, frowning. "Mina." 

"I'll eat something in a bit." I said, distractedly.

He walked up to the bed and sat down, facing me. "Kya hua hai, jaan? Hania mili thi abhi. Woh bhi bata rahi thi ke tum royi hui lag rahi ho. Aur mujhe bhi yehi lagta hai." 

*"What happened, jaan? I just met Hania. She was telling me that you looked like you had cried. And I feel the same." 

I hadn't told Hania anything. She would have told her Papa immediately. Hania was fiercely protective of me and Fawad, but especially of me. 

But as I looked at him now, I broke down. He was my husband, my best friend, the love of my life. I couldn't keep this from him. He was the one person I can't hide things from. "Fawad..." I began to sob. 

He moved over to sit beside me and pulled me into his arms. "What happened?" 

I cried against his chest and told him everything. "H-How can she say that, Fawad? That I don't care if she lives or dies? Does she not realise that I would actually die if anything happens to her?" 

"Itni badtameezi karti hai woh tumse?" He asked, quietly.

*"She shows so much insolence towards you?"

"Where did I go wrong, Fawad? Clearly I couldn't do parenting right." I was crying so hard that it actually felt that it would become the cause of my death.

He put his hands on my cheeks, staring into my eyes. "You're an amazing mother, Mina, and Iman is very unfortunate that she doesn't realise it." 

"What do we do, jaan? She's too far gone. We've lost her completely...or at least I have." 

"First of all, stop crying." He kissed my forehead. "Apni tabeeyat na kharab kar laina uske chakar main."

*"Don't fall sick because of her."

"Mere pe bharosa rakho, Mina. Ab mujhe handle karne do situation ko." He told me, kissing my tears away.

*"Trust me, Mina. And let me handle the situation."

I nodded. "I feel like she hates me."

"No, she doesn't. She just doesn't understand your importance in all of our lives." He muttered. "But she will, you'll see." 

I didn't question him further. I just remained snuggled up into his arms.

****

Hania

I had a tummy ache all night. I always get it when I keep something from my parents, but obviously I couldn't tell them anything yesterday as Mama was so upset.

When I came down for breakfast, I could feel the thick tension in the air, all directed at Iman. I had no idea what she did, but it must be something big because my parents and Dado were barely talking to her.

I tried to lighten the mood a bit and decided to tell them my secret in a humorous way. "I got lost yesterday, and then got found again." 

Everyone looked at me, surprised.

"What do you mean, you got lost?" Mama asked, frowning.

"I thought I got lost, but Mumani was right there." I explained. "And then Hamza drove us back home, me and Mumani."

"Hamza?" Papa repeated. "Daniyal Sahab's son?" 

I nodded.

"Hania, is getting lost your tradition or something?" Dado smiled at me, fondly.

But naturally, Iman had to ruin the mood I was trying to lighten. She stood up. "I'll eat something at a café with Ibrahim and the others." 

"Sit back down. You're not going anywhere." Papa said. 

"I don't eat parathas for breakfast, Papa. You know that." She made a face.

"If you want something else, make it yourself, but do not show ungratefulness towards food." He looked at her. "As for the matter of you going out, you're forgetting that Ibrahim and the others are from your mother's side of the family. The mother who you have absolute zero respect for." 

"You told him." Iman looked at Mama accusingly.

"This is the first and the last time that I'm saying this, Iman," Papa said from between gritted teeth. "I've never let anyone disrespect Jasmina, and I certainly won't let you do it. Don't you dare ever talk to her with such disregard and insolence ever again, am I clear?" 

"Papa, I..." Iman began to say something.

"Astaghfirullah!" Dado shook her head. "Iman, she almost died giving birth to you! We almost lost her. This is how you reward her?"

Iman looked as shocked as I felt. "S-She what?" 

Papa stood up. "I've made myself very clear. Sort yourself out, Iman. Because if you lose our support, nobody else in the world would tolerate this attitude of yours. Nobody would be as loving or as patient towards you like your parents, and you better learn to respect that." He looked at Mama. "And Mina, if you have any respect for me, you won't do any work for her, you won't cook for her, and you won't pamper her until she realises that you're her mother and not her maid." He headed out of the room, leaving us all lost in our thoughts.

Iman was in tears. "Mama..."

Mama got up and followed Papa out. 

"Mere tajarbe se sikho, beta." Dado spoke to my sister. "Maa Baap ki zindagi main hi unki kadar karna sikho, warna pachtawa hi reh jaata hai sirf." She stood up. "Hania, gudiya, mujhe mere kamre main chodh aao, beta."

*"Learn from my experience, dear."

"Learn to value your parents in their lifetimes, otherwise you're just left with regret."
"Hania, doll, please take me to my room, dear."

I nodded and helped Dado up, taking her out. 

I glanced over my shoulder at my sister, who was sobbing silently. My sisterly heart broke for her, but my daughter-side was furious at her for hurting our parents so much.

****

Hania keeps getting lost lol. Actually, she did get lost in the original version, and I wrote out her getting lost in LSF as well, just to make up a sort of tradition for her.

Hamza seems helpful so far, but I'm reminding the original BT readers, that the story has changed, so what you think you know, won't be true now.

Iman has crossed all limits by speaking to Jasmina like that! Would Fawad's methods bring her back to the right path. Sometimes strict measures are necessary to help someone come back to the good side.

Thoughts and comments?

Thank you for reading and don't forget to vote!