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Hania

"What is this?" Mama lifted up the teddy bear that almost fell out of my duty free bag while Papa loaded my luggage into the car boot.

"This is Hamia." I replied. "We Googled the name, and it means 'help', or supporter."

"That's a cute name." Mama smiled.

"It's a combination of Hania and Hamza." I said, my cheeks pink. "Because this teddy represents our exciting adventure."

My parents exchanged a look, with Papa raising an eyebrow at Mama.

"So, a couple name and a toy pet together?" Mama asked me, dubiously. "Those things sound quite relationship-y." 

"Jaan, that's not even a word." Papa pointed out, as he closed the car boot.

"Hush, you." Mama said, dismissively, eyeing me suspiciously. "Hania?"

I shrugged. "What? It's not a big deal!"

They exchanged another look.

I sighed. "Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot to tell you. Hamza and I got married in Dubai, and we gave this teddy a couple name based on us."

"You're becoming cheekier day by day, Hani." Mama shook her head.

I walked forward and gave her a hug. "Mama, trust your Hani. I have not set my mind on him. He needs to prove himself."

She just kissed my cheek, but I could sense her worry. She was probably thinking that I was already getting too attached to Hamza, but I had already started to prepare myself for a situation where things didn't work out before us. I wanted to be ready for the disappointment.

We got in the car, and I stared out of the window, lost in thoughts. Hamza had been so sweet and caring, throughout the experience. It was the weirdest thing ever, but I think I was starting to miss him.

"You know, this is all your fault, Fawad." Mama's voice broke me free from my thoughts, as she lightly slapped his arm as he pulled out of the car parking at Heathrow.

"How's this my fault?" He looked at her quickly, surprised.

"You were the only mehram for me and Hania then." She shrugged. "We were both your responsibilities, and you left Hania behind."

"Aren't you her mother?" He chuckled.

"Yes, but I was also your responsibility at that time, so I blame you." She grinned at him.

"I mean, a mother is supposed to protect her child as well." I joined in, immediately coming to Papa's defence. He laughed, and Mama frowned at me over my shoulder.

"Traitor." She glared at me.

"I love you, Mama." I said, sweetly.

"Such a Daddy's Girl." She pretended to be annoyed.

I giggled.

Rabia had driven over to pick up Hamza, because Uncle was already due back at work. We had exchanged numbers in the baggage reclaim hall. I didn't know if I was actually ever going to message him, but for some reason, I wanted to keep in touch with him, with parental permission, of course. I know it was wrong, considering that he was technically a non-mehram, but a part of me wanted to keep on talking to him. 

Stop getting attached, Hani. I reminded myself.

"Sorry for all the unintentional stress I caused, Mama." I said. "You can keep Hamia as an apology gift."

She and Papa laughed.

"How's Iman back in Lahore? Is she behaving?" I asked.

"She called me at two in the morning, Lahore time." Mama bit her lip, worriedly. "I think she's homesick, but she just won't admit it. I feel like going back immediately and getting her."

"Look, Fari's there, and you know how close those two are." Papa reassured her. "She'll be fine. And if there's any problem, she'll let us know."

"Will she?" Mama sounded dubious. "We're talking about Iman, not Hania. Like you, Iman's good at keeping her true feelings hidden." She shook her head. "I'm going to call Fariha when we get home, and find out whether Iman's okay."

"Jaan..."

"Fawad, please." She looked at him. "You don't know how I feel. These two have never been this far away from me, apart from when my parents passed away and I went to Lahore alone. But I knew that they had you then."

"Well, she has Fariha and Ammi, as well as Arhaan, Ahad and Zoya Bhabi and Nazia Mumani." He said, calmly. "Stop overthinking, Mina."

"What she said has got me thinking." Mama sounded thoughtful. "Maybe we have treated her like she's much older than she is. She's only nineteen, jaan. That's not old enough for her to face difficulties on her own."

"I know that, but she's not alone at the moment. I trust Fari. She'll take good care of her."

I could tell that Mama wasn't reassured by Papa's words, because she hugged herself tightly, biting her lower lip, anxiously. When she did that, she looked much younger than she was, and very vulnerable. 

"We'll be those annoying parents who regularly call and message." Papa grinned at her, as we sped down the M4, away from the airport and closer to the city.

"You already are." I coughed.

"Hey!" They both said in unison.

It was my turn to laugh.

****

The wall beside the stairs were covered with family photos, in the most gorgeous photo frames selected by Mama. Photos of their mehendi, wedding, Valima, leading down to me as a baby, and then Iman, and then general family photos. 

The whole house had been decorated by Mama with pure love and affection, and as I grew up, I began to give her suggestions and help her out. Right at the landing at the top of the stairs were two photos, one of Nana Jaan and Nano and one of Dada Jaan and Dado. My parents had a great deal of respect for both sets of our grandparents, and I saw it each time either of the couples visited our home. Mama was very close to Dado, which is a surprise, because stereotypical mothers-in-law on the Indian subcontinent are a nightmare for their daughters-in-law. And Papa treated Mama's parents like his own.

"I missed home." I glanced around, happily.

Mama gave me a hug. "Go freshen up, I'll make us some breakfast."

"Actually, parents." I slid one arm through hers and one through Papa's. "I'll freshen up and then I'll make breakfast. I got plenty of rest in the plane, and Mama, since I put you both through a nightmare, I'll give you a special breakfast treat, okay?" 

"Hani, you just got back..." Mama began to protest. I looked at Papa pointedly, and he nodded at me, before leading her away into the living room.

I went upstairs and after I'd come out of the bathroom, my phone started ringing. I walked over to the bed where I'd dropped my handbag and took the phone out. Iman was video calling.

"You okay, Mani?" The moment I answered the call, I got worried. Her hair was a mess around her face, there were dark circles underneath her eyes and she looked like she had been crying.

"Appi..." She burst into tears.

"What happened, babe?" Every time I saw any of my three main people upset, I got tearful as well.

"Appi, I'm so scared." She shook her head. "Don't tell Mama and Papa, but Rayaan is stalking me."

"He's what?!" I almost yelled.

"Shh!" She put a finger over her lips, her eyes widening even further.

"Papa warned him!" I said, furiously. "I'm telling him, Iman. This is ridiculous."

"This is all my fault, Appi. I'm being punished for contacting him out of spite."

"Iman, does anyone there know? Fari Phupho? Zoya Mumani? Naz Mumani? If you don't feel comfortable talking to our Mamus, talk to Fari Phupho. She can get Zafar Uncle involved."

"Appi, you don't understand. He knows literally everything!" She pressed a fist against her mouth to hide her sobs. "He even knows where our family home is, our parents' names and the names of all our uncles and aunts. He knows that you and I studied in Edinburgh. I'm so scared, so alone."

"You're my sister, Iman, and you're not alone, okay?" I said, firmly. "I will never let you go through this on your own." 

"Appi..." I was reminded of the very small Iman, who always used to turn to me when she broke something in the house and wanted me to save her from Mama. Or mother never physically hurt us, but she could be very strict when it comes to manners and good behaviour.

"Trust me." I took charge. "But you have to listen to me, Mani, okay?"

"Okay."

"First of all, you either tell Fari Phupho, or you speak to Zafar Uncle in confidence." I paced the room. "I'm sure that if you don't want him to tell anyone, he won't. But he will definitely help you."

"What if Rayaan hurts someone we care about because of this?"

"That's why I'm literally asking you to talk to a policeman." 

Iman was chewing on her nail, which, weirdly enough was missing its usual black nail polish. I'd always rolled my eyes at her choices of dark colours for nail polish, but at the end of the day, that was who Iman was. She liked darker outfits, and dark make-up. I knew that she thought it made her seem tougher, but it was sort of hard to take her seriously, looking at her floral locket and her floral charm bracelet. Those two items showed her touch of vulnerability, in my opinion.

"I'm also telling Papa." I whispered. "I won't tell Mama, because she's worried enough as it is, but it will be Papa's discretion at the end, whether to confide in her or not."

"I called Mama last night." She sniffed. "I had a fever, and just hearing her voice made me feel better. Appi, I think I want to come back home."

"I'm going downstairs to make them some breakfast, and I will gently talk to Papa after breakfast, okay?" I paused. "Do you want to speak to them?" 

She nodded, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand, before running her fingers through her hair to make them look brushed and tidier. I headed out and down the stairs. However, halfway down the stairs, the call dropped. Ya Allah.

I tried calling my sister, but the call wouldn't go through. Allah, please take care of my sister. She is actually more naïve than she realises.

****

SOME YEARS AGO

Mama and Papa had gone away for reasons that I couldn't recall, and as Ahad Mamu and Zoya Mumani were in London those days, with Bilal and Noor,  and they were taking care of us. 

Back then, Mani and I slept in the same room, on twin single beds. I was nine then and Mani was seven.

"Appi?"

I woke up when I felt small hands on my arms, shaking me awake. "Iman?" I turned on my back and saw her leaning over me, eyes wide. "What's wrong?"

"I'm scared." In her Beauty and the Beast pyjamas, with her hair up in a high ponytail, Iman looked vulnerable and very small. "Can I sleep beside you?"

"Iman, this is a single bed." I groaned, annoyed at her. "We both can't fit on it."

"I won't take up too much space, I promise."

Her words melted me and I sighed. "Fine. Get in."

She slid into the warm duvet beside me and curled up in a little ball. I turned on my side, facing her.

"I want Mama." She whispered loudly. "I don't like being away from her and Papa. I feel alone." 

"Mani, Ahad Mamu and Zoya Mumani are here, and they love us like their own kids. And I'm here with you right now." I told her, putting a handon her shoulder. "I'm your big sister, and as long as I'm here, youshouldn't feel alone."

"Appi, why does family make us feel safe?"

"Because Allah gives us family to keep us safe." I whispered. "We are lucky we have a family, Alhumdulillah. Family takes care of each other and looks after each other."

"Even when we're feeling scared?"

"Yes. You know how when we have bad dreams, and we run to Mama and Papa, and they hug us and make us feel safe? We know they are there to protect us and to look after us, and like that, I'm here to protect you and look after you. You're my little Mani and I love you."

"I love you too." Iman said, sleepily, before her eyes drifted close. "Appi, I feel safe now. You make me feel very, very safe."

I smiled, and soon she began to snore lightly, making me giggle. 

****

PRESENT

I was lost in my thoughts as I prepared breakfast. It was just normal toast and a cheese and mushroom omelette, along with coffee for Papa and tea for me and Mama.

As I set the breakfast onto the kitchen table, my parents walked in.

"Looks delicious." Mama smiled, taking a seat.

"It's nothing special." I muttered.

"I got a readymade breakfast, jaan. That's good enough." She looked up at Papa teasingly. "Learn something from your daughter, meri bachiyon ke Papa."

*"Father of my daughters." 

"Ungrateful." He playfully ruffled her hair before taking a seat beside her. "But, thank you, Hani."

I silently ate breakfast, worried sick about my baby sister. 

"Everything okay?" Mama frowned worriedly at me.

I gave her a reassuring smile. "It's just jet lag, Mama."

I wanted to tell them everything, but they were relaxed and happy for once, exchanging loving glances every now and then. They'd never been shy about displaying their affections for each other, within limits of course. Even now, he had a hand at the back of her neck, his thumb rubbing her skin, even as he focused on breakfast.

I know that they had a right to know. They had more of a right over Iman than anyone else in the world, and if she was in trouble then they should be the first ones to know. But I just couldn't bring myself to end the mood. Maybe I was a horrible, terrible person, and I should have picked my sister's safety first. And I swear, if I could go back and relive that moment, I would have opened my stupid mouth and told my parents, regardless of how annoyed Iman would have been with me.

I guess that at that time I thought that it wouldn't really matter if I told them later, as Iman was not currently in any real danger as she was in the safety of the Ali family home. But I should have remembered what I'd repeatedly heard in my life: Always trust your instincts. And as I sat there, having breakfast with my parents, my instincts were screaming at me to open my mouth and tell them about Iman's situation. 

But I didn't. I made a stupid mistake and sat there, pretending like everything was normal. Worst sister ever.

****

I had just woken up from a deep sleep, and had gone downstairs. Papa was helping Mama in preparing dinner, and they both were talking and laughing, teasing each other every now and then.

"May I come in?" I joined in the teasing. "Or shall I go out somewhere?"

"Hania!" Blushing, Mama threw a tea towel at me.

"Would you mind, Hani?" Papa winked at me. "You're being a 'kebab main hadi' right now."

*Basically meaning 'third wheel'.

"Allah! Fawad!" Mama glared at him. "She's of marriageable age, and you're still acting like we're newly married." 

I pouted, playing along. "Do you really want me to go, Papa?"

"Don't be silly, jaan. I'm just teasing you." He smiled at me.

"Apki hi beti hai, akhir kaar." Mama muttered, turning away.

*Translation: "She's your daughter, after all."

Papa and I enjoyed teased Mama and we continued doing so as I began to help out.

Papa's phone rang, and he picked it up from the kitchen table, eyebrows furrowing. "Assalam Alaikum, Fariha." He frowned. "What the hell do you mean?"

Mama and I both looked at him, scared.

"Ya Allah!" He muttered, pacing around as he listened to Phupho on the other end. "Didn't anyone know? Okay, keep me updated." He hung up shortly.

"Fawad, what happened?" Mama clutched his arm.

"Iman..." He looked at her, grimly.

****

Hania is human, and relatively young, and she made a mistake by keeping Iman's situation from her parents as soon as she found out.

Is Iman okay?

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