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*

BONUS CHAPTER! Especially for the readers who love the Iman-Fawad bond.

****

Fariha

The mehendi ceremony continued without a drama. Upon the arrival of Saad with Umair, Zafar and Ahad immediately went to take control of things, while I discussed the issue with the remaining elders of my generation. It was ultimately decided that we would let them stay, but Zafar gave a very clear warning to Umair to behave himself.

"Any disruptions and you will spend the night in prison, am I clear?" The way he warned Umair actually turned me on. Zafar had actually gotten hotter with age, in my opinion. Ma Sha Allah, and when he behave like a tough policeman, well, let's just say that I felt like a twentysomething newlywed on her honeymoon.

"Ghabrao nahin. Hum sab yahaan hain. Kuch nahin karega woh." Bhai, as usual, reassured me.

*"Don't worry. We're all here. He won't do anything."

I nodded. I hoped that he was right and that nothing happened. Because usually when Umair was around, something bad happened.

****

Iman

I felt his eyes on me without even looking in his direction. I lifted my head up and saw Saad staring directly at me, his eyes running up and down my body. I shuddered, but I wasn't afraid because I was literally surrounded by loved ones. Nevertheless, I pulled my dupatta over myself, using it as a shield against his filthy gaze. I didn't even refer to him as Bhai because calling him that was an insult to the word 'Bhai'. A Bhai was like Omar Bhai, who treated us like his own biological sisters, while still respecting the limits of the law of mehrams. Hani Appi and I have never, ever felt unsafe around Omar Bhai, or even Zaid. Saad was our only cousin who made us both feel uncomfortable, in different ways. Appi always said that she never got good vibes from him, whereas with me his approach was more direct.

I reminded myself not to go out anywhere alone, not even the bathroom. I didn't trust Saad one bit. Where is Madiha Bhabi anyway?

The males of our families, including Hamza Bhai, got together for the customary mehendi ceremony dance. Everyone was having the time of their lives. Nobody noticed my discomfort, which was glad. I didn't want anyone to stop enjoying themselves because of me.

But then I remember what my parents had always taught me. If anyone ever made me feel uncomfortable, I needed to let a trustworthy person/adult know. If I was feeling uncomfortable, it meant that my instincts were sending off warnings, and if my instincts were warning me against something, it meant that I wasn't just being paranoid and that there was actually something worrisome going on.

I looked around the hall, seeing my entire extended family. The best option would be to tell Zafar Uncle, a policeman, but it was his son's wedding, and I don't want him to be on duty today at least.

I have to tell Papa. I decided. He is the first person I should turn to regarding my safety. Determined, I began to make my way towards where he stood chatting to Daniyal Uncle, Zunaira Bhabi's father (Mushtaq Uncle) and Arhaan Mamu.

"Banaloon isay aap ki bahu, Papa?" Saad's voice froze me in my steps.

*"Shall I make her your daughter-in-law, Papa?"

I turned and saw Filth and Filth Senior approach me, both with sneers on their faces. I wasn't aware of what happened between Phupho and Umair, but I knew that he wasn't a nice person at all, and that Phupho's life was much better after she'd left him. The way Saad was staring at me was making me want to throw a chapal into his face.

*Chapal: slipper.

I ignored him and continued to walk away.

Saad whistled and I froze. Is that b*****d checking me out?

"Badtameez! Yeh kya harkat hai?" An unexpected voice snapped.

*"Shamless/Insolent person! What kind of a behaviour is this?"

I guess Saad or Filth Senior hadn't realised that Dado had been sitting at a nearby table. She had seen and heard everything and she looked furious. For someone in her late seventies, almost eighty (Ma Sha Allah), Dado was pretty intimidating when she wanted to be.

"Dado, leave it. He's not worth us wasting our breath for." I walked over to her and calmly placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Zafar ko bulao, Iman." Dado told me.

*"Call Zafar, Iman."

"Dado..."

"Call..." She began to wheeze, doubling over.

"Dado!" I immediately crouched down, and thinking quickly, I grabbed her purse to grab her inhaler. I helped her use it, and her breathing calmed down a few moments later. I turned and saw Saad and his father had disappeared. Rolling my eyes, I glanced back at Dado. "Are you okay?"

"Ammi, are you okay?" Papa rushed over, having noticed her asthma attack.

"My Mani took care of me." Dado smiled at me, before placing a hand on my cheek. She turned her gaze towards my father. "Tell Zafar to kick Saad and Umair out of here. If Fariha and Zafar respect me, they will disinvite Saad from all wedding events for Omar."

"What happened?" Papa looked concerned.

"Noth..." I began to say.

"He whistled at Iman." Dado didn't hold back. "Humare Fariha aur Zafar ne to aisi tarbeeyat nahin di."

*"Our Fariha and Zafar haven't raised them like that."

Papa's jaw clenched. "I'll kick them out myself. How dare he? Let's not worry them. I'll deal with it." Concern appeared on her face again. "But you sure you're okay?"

"Your little future doctor took care of me, don't worry." Dado kissed my forehead.

Papa patted my shoulder before walking away towards Saad and his father. Feeling suddenly protective of my father, I followed him. I knew that he could handle them, but I don't know why we kids feel that we could protect our parents even when they can clearly take care of themselves.

"Utho. Dafa ho aithon." He told the two, who had now sat back down on their seats.

*"Get up. Get out of here."

"Mamu..." Saad had the audacity to pretend to look innocent.

"Fariha ka lehaaz kar raha hoon main. Agar kisi aur ne ye harkat ki hoti na meri beti ke saath, uska gala duba deta apne haathon se." Papa's voice was louder than it usually was when he was angry, but still controlled enough as to not gain attention. I don't know how he did that, and it seriously impressed me. I wanted a talent like that.

*"I'm sparing you for Fariha's sake. If anyone else had dared do this to my daughter, I would have strangled him with my bare hands."

"Niklo yahan se, warna jo ho ga, uske tum donon khud hi zimaydaar hogay." Frankly Papa had never been this angry, not even when I had rebelled. I guess this is what happened when someone messed with his family, especially with his wife or daughters.

*"Get out of here, otherwise you yourself will be responsible for whatever happens."

I clutched Papa's arm and watched as Saad and his father got up and leave, just as Zafar Uncle approached us.

"What happened?" My Phupho's husband asked, frowning in concern.

"Abhi to kuch bhi nahin hua. Warna jo harkat ki hai na usne, sirf humare rishte ne usay bachaya hai." Papa looked at him.

*"Nothing happened yet. Otherwise, after what he did, only our relationship has saved him."

I rushed away, feeling overwhelmed. If only men like Saad realised how even their smallest of acts could have such a huge impact on a girl/female. But, to be honest, even if guys like him realise, if they had the audacity to eye a woman in such a manner, I'm sure they wouldn't even care about the consequences.

****

"Iman?"

I stood still in the stall of the bathroom, eyes wide, but then I realised that it was my mother who had called my name. "Mama?" My voice sounded small and vulnerable.

"Come out, meri jaan."

I immediately unlocked the door and rushed out, heading straight towards my mother and falling into her arms. "Mama..." I began to sob against her shoulder.

"Don't cry, Mani. You're okay, you're safe." She pulled away and placed her hands on my cheeks. "Now you realise that we're all going to be there to protect you, no matter what, right? Even Dado stood up for you, meri jaan."

"You're all my strength, Mama. Having you all support me actually makes me stronger. I'm not crying simply because I'm shaken by what happened. I'm crying because I'm grateful to Allah. My Dado defended me, after years of criticising me, she protected me!" I laughed tearfully. "And when Papa took charge, all my fear completely disappeared. And knowing that everyone was around, including you and Papa, my aunts and uncles, and Hani Appi and Hamza Bhai, and even my other cousins, I felt a huge sense of security."

She looked thoughtful for a few seconds. "Mani, can I ask you something?"

"Since when do you, Mama Dearest, need my permission to ask me anything?"

"I noticed you looking sad earlier, when we were all talking before the Nikah ceremonies." She frowned. "You okay? You aren't feeling left out are you, with all of us coupled up?"

"How intuitive are you?" I was stunned by how she'd guessed exactly how I felt.

"When your Ahad Mamu got married, and I flew here without your Papa, everyone was coupled up and I felt that way, even though I had Hani then." She shrugged.

"But you were technically still someone's wife." I pointed out.

"I know, but I can still sort of empathise, you know." She grabbed my hands.

"Am I being silly?" I asked, feeling stupid.

"Emotions shouldn't ever be classed as silly or stupid." She said. "But, Mani, you're still very young. Enjoy life, study, achieve your career goals. You have a lot to look forward to, In Sha Allah. Focus on that, okay? And you, Miss Iman Fawad, are a part of our family, no matter what. There's absolutely no reason for you to feel left out, okay? Your Papa and I might be a couple, but we're your parents as well." She hugged me.

"I don't understand why I'm starting to feel this way, Mama. I always just focused on my future career goals, and now I'm suddenly starting to notice how everyone is in love. Ma Sha Allah, I'm happy for everyone and may Allah not cause anyone to be affected by an evil eye because of me. Ameen. But I'm just starting to notice these things."

"You're growing up, it happens. Humans generally crave companionship. But please don't focus on that right now. Since you being a doctor has become your dream, it has become a dream for me and Fawad as well. We look forward to the day we get to address you as Dr Iman Fawad, In Sha Allah."

"Would you be disappointed if I don't succeed? It's a very tough career."

"We would be disappointed only if you give up your dream without even trying." She grabbed my hand again. "You okay, right? You ready to come back inside?"

I nodded. "Let's go."

****

"I'm very proud of you."

I looked up from where I sat at the kitchen table of the Ali family home. It was two in the morning, and despite my exhaustion, I couldn't sleep, so I was having coffee. Papa had just walked in, facing the same issue clearly. He walked straight over to the coffee machine. "Proud of me? For what?"

"For the way you expertly took care of your Dado." He smiled at me over his shoulder. "Good job, doctor!"

I couldn't keep a silly smile off my face hearing that.

He brought over his mug of coffee and sat down opposite me. "You okay?"

"I guess Saad's biological father must be really disgusting for him to turn out this way. Otherwise Phupho and Zafar Uncle are amazing people, Ma Sha Allah." I stared down into my mug. "And his father clearly encourages him, because Saad asked him if he should make me his daughter-in-law."

For a second, Papa looked absolutely furious, and I wondered if I should have mentioned that to him or not. But he quickly composed himself, and smiled instead. "He should come and ask me and Mina if he dares. Before me, your mother will rip him apart."

I grinned. "Mama can be a warrior queen, right?"

"You have no idea." He looked proud as he took a sip of his coffee.

"Is that how she has a Fangirl Favourite like you wrapped around her little finger?" I teased.

"Behave." He feigned annoyance. "I'm still your father, Iman."

I just grinned again, mischievously.

"If I didn't know any better, I would have thought that Ahad had trained you definitely." He shook his head. "You have a tendency to say whatever that's on your mind."

"It's called 'having no filter' these days, Papa Jaan." I said.

"I'm good with my older terminology, thank you." He said.

I stared into my coffee thoughtfully for a while. "Thank you, Papa."

"For what?"

"I've heard that in situations like these, some conservative parents often blame the girl for doing something to attract such filthy attention."

"Mani, even if you were in the wrong, I would never publicly blame you. Instead, your mother and I will talk to you in the privacy of our home. But if you're not in the wrong, I will publicly defend you, because it's my duty to do so as your father, your parent. And secondly, I trust you. I know that you have done some rebellious things, but I know that there are certain limits that you wouldn't cross, especially not after repenting so much."

"You're cool, Dr Papa." I nodded, appreciatively.

"Game of UNO?" He randomly suggested.

I laughed. We, as a family, had fond and funny memories of UNO games. Mama used to sweet talk him into giving her his Draw Four card if he had one, to which he absolutely refused, saying, 'In this game, we're enemies, Jasmina Fawad.'. Appi used to think the game was rigged, because she rarely won. And that one very memorable time when I was dancing at my victory and had accidentally kicked Appi in the face as we had sat on cushions around the coffee table. She had cried for two hours straight, worried that she had lost a tooth or something- which she hadn't.

"Okay, but prepare to lose while playing against Champion Iman Fawad."

"Beta Ji, aap ko naam bhi mujhse hi mila hai. Champion ka bhi baap hoon main." He ruffled my hair.

*"Dear, you even got your name from me. I'm the father of the champion."

"Einstein is know for being the genius, not his father." I winked at him. "So parentage doesn't matter."

"Shararati patakhi. Baap ko tang karti ho?"

*"Cheeky firecracker. Teasing your father?"

"Maa se sekhi hai." I spoke in my rubbish Urdu.

*"I've learnt from my mother."

"Seekha, not seekhi." He gently corrected by grammatic error between the feminine and masculine term. "But good attempt."

****

We were actually having a discussion on the heart as we played UNO. And no, we were not talking about the love and romance of the heart, but the actually frickin' human heart.

"Mama would so laugh at us right now and call us nerds." I giggled. "Who discusses the human heart over a game of UNO in the middle of the night?"

"Your mother would happily discuss her TV dramas in the middle of the night, so why can't we discuss what we enjoy?" He said, simply.

Speaking of my mother, she had come by earlier, probably wondering where her husband had disappeared off to, but when she had seen us enjoying UNO together, she had left without a word, with a smile on her face. Usually she would have told me off about being up in the middle of the night, and especially if she had seen me drink coffee. But today she didn't say a word.

"So, you're set on cardiology?" Papa asked me.

"Hundred percent." I nodded, arranging my cards in colour order. "I absolutely love it. But if I had to choose a back-up, it would be neurology like Dada Jaan. Dil aur dimagh ki jang hai, mere dost."

*"It's a battle of the heart and the mind, my friend."

He looked a little surprised. "Where in the world did you learn that from?"

"Dado." I grinned. "She told me that whenever there was a disagreement between you and Dada Jaan, she would say this. I just added the 'mere dost' bit." I suddenly thought of something. "What in the world did you and Dada Jaan ever disagree about? Aren't you like the perfect son or something?"

"There's no such thing as a perfect child, Iman." He leaned back against the sofa. "But now that we're parents, we can only advise you about things that we learnt from our own experience. It may not seem very fun to you, but we know for a fact that it's the right thing for you. Just like that, during my teenage years, I got into a lot of trouble with your Arhaan Mamu, but my parents eventually got me to realise that I had to turn serious if I want to get somewhere in life. At that point, that was the cause of our disagreement. And in later years, it was minor things like Papa wanting me to extend my stay while I came here for holidays while studying in London, or sometimes even career related disagreements, when we had long discussions."

"So, you were never actually rude to him, were you?"

"Never." He shook his head.

"Well, in my defence, I've rarely been rude to you." I whispered. "I've just been rude to Mama."

"Which is actually much worse." He pointed out. "But because you're repenting, we're not going to think about that right now."

"Papa?"

"Hmm?" He tossed a Wild Card onto the pile and asked for the colour red.

"Can I ask you for something?" I asked.

He looked almost wary as he asked, "What is it, Iman?"

"Regular tutoring from you once I resume studies. You explain everything amazingly."

He smiled, looking flattered. "I'd be honoured, Mani."

****

The next morning, despite the fact that it was Omar Bhai's wedding day, Papa and I both slept in, and Mama was freaking out when I arrived downstairs.

"Hadd hoti hai! Humain is waqt Fariha ke ghar hona chahiye!" She was pacing the kitchen, preparing breakfast. "Aur aap aur aapki ladli itni dair tak soye hain."

*"It's the limit! We should be at Fariha's house right now!"
"And you and your beloved daughter have slept in so late!"

"Fariha ne kaha hai koi khaas kaam nahin hai aaj." Papa, as usual, sounded calm. "Fikar na karo tum. Aur mujhe khushi ke raat mujhe finally Mani time bhi mil gaya. Uske liye bohat zaroori hai Maa aur Baap ke saath time ghuzarna."

*"Fariha said that there isn't any such work today."

"Don't worry. And I'm having that I finally got some Mani time. It's very important for her to spend time with her parents."

"Woh to theek hai, jaan, laikin..."

*"That's fine and all, jaan, but..."

"Laikin waikin kuch nahin. Mani ki bhalayi ki khatir main itni dair tak jaa raha tha, warna coffee ke bawajood mujhe bohat neend aarahi thi."

*"No buts. I was awake so long for Mani's benefit, otherwise despite the coffee, I was terribly sleepy."

My heart felt like it was ready to burst hearing his words.

Smiling, I entered the kitchen. "Assalam Alaikum!" I looked at Mama, almost cautiously.

"Walaikum Assalam!" They both replied.

"Your father saved you from a scolding, Mani." My mother told me. "Have a seat. I'll serve you breakfast."

"I will have a paratha as well, just for today." I sat down beside Papa at the kitchen table.

"You're really buttering up Papa, aren't you?" Mama smiled at me, teasingly. "What do you want, Iman Fawad?"

"Can a girl just not appreciate her parents?" I asked, innocently.

"Of course she can. But this is you we are talking about." Papa chuckled.

I shook my head. "The ilzaam crush my soul and spirit. And from my own parents! Ya Allah!" I glanced up heavenwards dramatically.

*Ilzaam: accusation(s).

"Is Drama Queen ke liye to koi aap jaisa sabr wala banda hi chahiye." Mama said to Papa and they both exchanged a fond smile.

*"For this Drama Queen, we need a man with your patience."

****

For Omar Bhai's wedding, I chose to wear a dark rose gold maxi with a slit and sheer sleeves, with gentle golden patterns sewn over it. The shalwar was plain, with an golden crocheted end. I paired the outfit with golden heels, and had my hair done in a neat updo.

Appi, being a newly married bride herself, had to wear something heavier. She wore a pink Anarklai with silver embroidery, an aqua lehenga and a mint dupatta with a pink and silver border. Her hair was curled today and pinned back, and she looked incredibly beautiful. Ma Sha Allah. I even teasingly warned Hamza Bhai not to drool when he saw her, when he had called to ask how long we would take. 

The Mothers' Gang had decided on sari this time. Mama, who adored her pastel colours, chose a powder pink sari with a silver border, pink and silver embroidery on the pallu, and sheer arms with more embroidery over them. "Prepare yourself, Papa." I'd teased Papa before he had seen her. "Today, you'll be the date of an eternal beauty, Ma Sha Allah, so prepare to be wowed."  

Zoya Mumani wore a lace mint green sari, with a heavily decorated pallu. The blouse was long-sleeved, silk, and gentle pink shade. For Ahad Mamu, all I could say was, "Just remember, it's a family function." 

Nazia Mumani, wore a beautiful blue sari with a gold-silver border. "Just remember," I told Arhaan Mamu. "Your son is the groom today." I'd given him a cheeky smile, and he had shaken his head with an almost shy smile.

Fariha Phupho, mother of the groom, wore a beautiful sari that wowed everyone. The pallu wasa cream, but the skirt of the sari was ombre, with white at the top, gradually developing into shades of green, turning deep green at the end. The blouse was a lighter shade than the pallu, and had green floral patterns on it, while the border was green with golden fleur-de-lis patterns on it. With Zafar Uncle, I had to limit my jokes a little, respectfully, but I just told him that he was in for a beautiful surprise. 

Needless to say, that despite my warning, the husbands of the beautiful ladies were speechless and stunned when they saw them. At that moment, I was glad to be single. I lacked filter so much, that I would have teased the daylights out of my poor husband for checking me out. Not in a bad way of course, but that's how I was.

Omar Bhai was just as latto when he saw his bride. 

*Latto: smitten.

Zunaira Bhabi wore a long golden maxi with a red lehenga. Her dupatta was of a velvety material, with a stunning gold border, and it actually looked heavier than I was. But she looked like a beautiful bride, Ma Sha Allah.

She was stunning, with a slim model figure, light brown wavy hair and hazel eyes. As she smiled though, her front tooth was slight crooked, as a result of a childhood accident. But I've learned a long time ago that beauty isn't about perfection. Beauty differs for everyone, and is indeed in the eye of the beholder, but genuine beauty isn't physical beauty because that fades away. Our true beauty are our good character, our personality and our good deed. Things that eventually become our ticket to Jannah.

So, yes, I heard a lot of people criticising her tooth, but I also saw haw Zunaira Bhabi stood up and walked over to where my Dado sat on the armchair on the stage, and bent down to get blessings from the most senior person in our extended family. That is beauty. Respecting our elders, our buzurg.

I was just standing there, scrolling on my phone, when someone tapped my shoulder. I looked up and saw Ibrahim standing there, grinning. "What do you want?" 

"Want some kheer? I can access some in from the kitchen." He asked, quietly.

"Yes, please. I'm starving! And God knows when dinner will be served." I patted my stomach.

We headed towards the end of the hall, and Ibrahim called over a waiter. "Bhai, sneak us some kheer. Do bhookay logon ka bhala karde." 

*"Do us two starving people a favour." 

The waiter looked uncertain.

"Look, this is my Phupho's son's wedding. She won't mind." I added. "Please, Bhai?"

"One small bowl each." The waiter muttered. "I could get in trouble for this."

"Don't worry. We'll cover for you, I promise." Ibrahim reassured him.

And I knew that he wasn't lying. Ibrahim acted like a rebel, but he would never let someone else take the fall for something that he had done. He always looked out for the people who could be collateral damage in the result of his mischief.

And so, the two of us stood in the corner, eating rice pudding and joking around. It felt almost rebellious to be eating before everyone else, but it was just harmless fun. Our parents wouldn't want us to starve right?

****

FLASHBACK OF 'FOR OUR LOVE'

I'm often making comparisons between FOL and BT, by getting the characters to behave in a way that their parents did. This scene is a bonus, and is what the above scene between Iman and Ibrahim is based on.

Ahad and Aliya's engagement party

Fawad

 I walked off towards where Arhaan stood, sneaking a slice of cucumber from the salad bar, which had been set up with the buffet service at one end of the garden.

"Caught you." I grinned.

He looked up, startled, and then sighed when he saw that it was only me. "Bhai, I'm bloody starved. Why aren't they starting the dinner service?"

"Wow, the host is asking the guest." I laughed.

"You're not a guest, you weirdo." He said. "Don't try to get out of doing work by calling yourself a guest."

I laughed again.

"Seriously, though." He looked around. "Ammi told me that she'll give me the go-ahead when it was time for dinner, but she's too busy."

"You remember how when our parents used to hold parties when we were younger, at your house or mine?" I said. "And you and I always used to duck behind the other side of the buffet table and sneak food onto plates from there as we were so hungry?" 

His laugh was loud and contagious. "Oh Allah, the amount of time Ammi has ended up yelling at me for that!" He sighed happily. "Remember when Uncle Ali caught us once and he ended up helping us?"

"Good times." I chuckled.

"The best." He agreed.

We both exchanged a mischievous look.

"I think we're both too tall to hide behind the table now." Arhaan said.

"I'm still willing to sneak away food, if you are."

We both laughed again, and the smell of the delicious food under the round silver dish covers made us hungrier.

****

Okay, so this was just a bonus chapter and will not have a major impact on the storyline, but I still hope that you enjoyed it!

It gave you a little more insight into Iman's deep insecurities and her love for her family, especially her parents.

Also, this was a dedication to the readers who wanted more Iman-Fawad scenes.

Thoughts and comments?

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