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Mani Di Shaadi: Mani's Wedding

Yes, I'm alive.  

My comeback will be with this story because I've been thinking about Iman's story recently.

***

Iman

I'll be honest. There have been times when I'd wondered what it would have been like if I had married Ibrahim Arhaan Sheikh, my elder Mamu's son, and the cousin that I had a crush on.

*To clarify, Islam permits marriage between cousins. 

I wondered if I would have been pampered, especially by Arhaan Mamu. I wondered if Nazia Mumani would have changed in her new role as my mother-in-law. I doubted that, but I couldn't help thinking these thoughts.

My mehendi covered hands gripped the railing on the terrace of the Ali family home, in DHA Lahore. Tomorrow was the 'Qabool Hai' day, and I had no idea what I felt more: nerves or anxiety or fear.

"What are you doing up here? Everyone is looking for you!" Hania Appi's made me jump slightly and I turned to see her walking towards me, looking annoyed. She was dressed in a dark green sari with a gorgeous golden border, looking exactly like our mother.

Meanwhile, I wore a lehenga which had a tie-dyed shades of orange, pink and yellow, with mirror work decorating it. It was a gift for my Mumanis, as they felt that the colours would look good on me on my mehendi night.

"I needed to breath. It was suffocating down there." I turned back. "You don't want a bride struggling for oxygen, do you?" I stared up at the dark sky.

 "Liar." My sister knew me well.

I looked at her, raising my eyebrow. 

"You are scared about going into a new family." 

I scoffed. "I don't get scared of minor things." 

"No, Mani, you get scared. You just don't show it because you feel that showing fear makes you weak. But, fear only makes us human." She put a hand on my shoulder.

"It's nothing like that. I was just missing Dada Jaan. How happy would he have been, knowing that his little Mani was getting married." I choked up as I talked about him. It wasn't even a lie. I did miss him. He had always pampered me, calling me his little doctor gudiya. While my Dado had always been wary of my mischievous behaviour, my paternal grandfather had always laughed it off, saying 'kids will be kids'.

*Doctor gudiya: doctor doll.

"I wish he was here today." I whispered.

Hani Appi wrapped her arms around me and hugged me tightly. "For the record, all our grandparents would be really proud of you, Mani." 

I smiled, and I hugged her back just as tightly. I wouldn't admit it out loud, but my sister had come at just the right time. I really needed her right now, and without me having to say that, she just knew that somehow.

****

For the actual mehendi ceremony, I had Mama's mehendi dupatta draped over my head. I sat on the swing on my own and watched my cousins with a smile, as they had the time of their lives. 

We weren't having a joint ceremony as we weren't Nikahfied yet, and only Mrs Bukhari had come, along with her female relatives, to bring mehendi and traditional baskets filled with bangles and other items for me.

Currently, Armaan, Bilal, Zaid and Ibrahim were busy dancing to Punjabi songs, making a lot of noise in the process. Hamad was also attempting to match their steps, but not very successfully as he fell onto his backside a couple of times.

"Iman?" Mrs Bukhari walked up to where I sat, and took a seat beside me. She was dressed simply, in a dark green shalwar-kameez with a dupatta tied as a hijab over her head. She was the mother of the groom, but she was promoting simplicity, which was impressive.

"Assalam Alaikum." I smiled at her.

"Walaikum Assalam." She ran a hand over my head. "How are you feeling?" 

"Like this is all unreal." I admitted honestly.

"I can understand. This is a lifechanging experience, especially for girls." She nodded understandingly. "But you have nothing to be anxious about when it comes to your in-laws. I promise to treat you with kindness and fairness. I may not have a daughter, but I fear Allah, and I do not want to incur His wrath by ever hurting you or being unfair with you." 

Honestly, her words were reassuring. Yes, I was tough, but I really did not wish to experience family politics and drama. I wanted a home where I could have mental peace. 

She took off a slim gold bangle from her wrist. "My mother-in-law gave this to me on my mehendi. I am now keeping the tradition and giving it to you." She lifted up my free hand and slipped the bangle into my wrist. "I'm afraid that I can't do much more for you, but know that I will do everything and anything within my capabilities for my son and his wife, with the will of Allah." 

The bangle was loose on my wrist, but I felt deeply touched. "Thank you. The sentiments behind this are more valuable than the gold itself." I looked to my right. "Mama?" 

My mother was wearing a similar sari to Appi, but the difference was that hers had a silver border, instead of gold. Mama's hair was in a bun, adorned with gajray, made from her namesake, jasmine flowers. She walked over and stood beside me, smiling politely at my mother-in-law-to-be.

"Mrs Bukhari gave me this." I held up my wrist to show her. "Her mother-in-law gave it to her, and now she's passing it down to me." 

"It's very beautiful, Ma Sha Allah." Mama looked at Mrs Bukhari. 

"It's nothing at all, Jasmina Bhabi. I wish I could do more for my daughter-in-law." Mrs Bukhari looked almost sad as she spoke.

"This is a lot. And for us, the sentiments matter more than anything." Mama basically repeated what I'd told her.

****

I pursed my lips tightly as I tried to rush down the stairs as quietly as possible. 

"Fittay moun!" I muttered as I dropped my phone and it clattered loudly against the marble floor of the foyer.

*"Dammit!" Or something like that. This is hard to translate.

Fortunately, the house was still silent, which meant that I was not safe. I quickly headed towards the kitchen, after ensuring that my smartphone was still intact and working.

I needed coffee. I couldn't sleep, and after an hour and a half of trying, I decided to surrender to my nerves and grab my favourite beverage instead. Obviously, it was mandatory to complete this mission without being caught by Boss Woman- a.k.a. Mama.

I winced as I saw the kitchen light on. I wish I had a coffee maker in my room. I stopped in my tracks, considering whether to continue or whether to backtrack and go to my room. What if it's Fari Phupho? I'm sure she'll allow me to drink coffee if I asked nicely enough? That was a huge advantage of aunts and uncles- they were like parents, but they still let you get away with a lot, as long as it was not going to hurt you or anyone else. And my father's sister doted on me and Appi so much, that she would never refuse us something that we wanted. Be brave, soldier. I took a deep breath and headed into the kitchen. 

My eyes widened in surprise when I saw Papa sitting at the kitchen table, also drinking coffee. A laugh automatically escaped my mouth as I saw him. "Like daughter, like father." 

He looked up, raising both eyebrows. 

"It's just you. I can get away with it." Grinning, I walked over to the coffee pot, which still contained enough coffee for me.

"What's that supposed to me? I'm your father, in case you're forgetting." 

I poured coffee into a mug, and winked at him over my shoulder. "You're not the boss though. I won't get in trouble with you." 

He sat back in his chair, frowning. "Your mother is right. I have spoilt you and Hani." 

 "Too late to make amends now." I brought my mug over and took a seat opposite him. "And I inherited this love of coffee from you, so you can't blame me either way." I took a sip of the coffee and closed my eyes. He made excellent coffee, and there was no doubt in that. 

I was too busy enjoying my favourite hot beverage to realise how quiet he suddenly he was, until I opened my eyes a few seconds later and saw him looking at me thoughtfully. "Why are you looking at me like I'm a medical symptom that you can't figure out?" 

A corner of his mouth raised up in an almost begrudging smile. "You actually are someone I can't figure out, Mani." 

"Why? I'm such a simple person." I giggled, knowing very well how untrue that statement was.

"You're definitely a comedian, no doubt." He grinned fully now.

"That I didn't inherit from you... I would think, that's from Ahad Mamu." 

His smile disappeared, and suddenly he looked serious.

"Oh Allah, did you get offended?" I shook my head. "Papa, for Allah's sake! I would never say anything to offend you..."

"Are you happy?" He interrupted.

"Well, I have my coffee which I seriously needed right now and..."

"Iman." His firm tone made me look up at him. "Are you happy?" 

"A bit late to ask, isn't it?" As per my nature, I couldn't resist being cheeky.

"You were asked for your consent at every point, and all of this is happening according to your wishes, Iman. Your mother and I made sure of that. But I want to ask you again, father to daughter, are you happy?" 

"I am." I replied honestly. "But I will be happier if you quit stressing." 

"Are you seriously asking the father of the bride to stop stressing?" 

I smiled. "I'm asking the father of Iman Fawad to stop stressing. We'll get through tomorrow, In Sha Allah." I stood up and walked around the table, leaning down to lean my arm around his shoulders. "You need to stay strong for Boss Woman. She acts tougher than she is." A sudden wave of sadness began to overwhelm me as I held onto him. 

I was tough, I didn't need anyone to protect me or defend me. Yet I could feel the automatic feeling of safety and security fading away as I took steps towards me new life tomorrow. The safe feeling that I'd always felt with my parents was giving way to the bubble of caution that I was going to initially cover myself with as I started my new life.

"Thank you." I whispered.

"For what?" 

"For giving me the freedom and choice to finish my education and start my career before I started this new chapter of my life. Not every girl is fortunate enough to have a father like you, for having parents like you both." 

He stood up and wrapped an arm around me, kissing the top of my head. "Daughters are blessings, Mani. Not even a half decent person would do injustice to the blessings in their life."

If only all men thought this way. I wish Taif has the same thoughts, same respect for the females in his life.

****

I felt something on my face and I groaned. 

Did I fall asleep at the parlour while having my bridal make-up done?

I opened my eyes and gasped. "Hina!"

My niece was sitting on her niece on my bed beside me, and was busy drawing on my face with lipstick. "Khalla, I'm getting you ready!" 

"Ready for the circus?" I gently moved her away and sat up.

She giggled, putting a small hand over her mouth. I could see that she had also attempted to put the lipstick on her own face, with red marks all over her lower cheeks and chin. "No, silly! For your wedding!"

"Who are you calling silly?" I pulled her onto my lap and began to tickle her, making her giggle. I sneakily took the lipstick from her as her grip on it loosened as she laughed. "Where did you get this lipstick from?" 

Her eyes widened, filled with a cheekiness that my family said she had inherited from me. Pursing her lips, she attempted to stop another giggled, but failed. "Mama's bag!"

"Hina, it's not nice to go through to someone's purse, even Mama's." I told her, gently.

"Sorry." She pouted slightly, her gaze lowered. But she discreetly looked up at me every other second, and I recognised that look. She was pretending to look innocent to gain sympathy for me. It was an old trick, and I even remember using the same one when I was a kid.

"Hina, you cheeky doll! You really are my niece, aren't you?" I hugged her tightly.

"Khalla, I can't get air!" She couldn't say the word 'breathe' properly, so instead she usually said 'get air'. 

"I'm sorry." I set her down on the bed and got up, sliding my feet into the slippers resting by the bed. "I need to go wash my face before..."

The door opened and a frantic Appi walked in. "Oh, Hina! Thank God! There you are!" She paused as she saw my- probably-lipstick covered face. "Oh, good! You're ready for the wedding!" She burst out laughing.

I walked over to the dressing table and gasped. I looked like someone had squashed a tomato over my face. Hina had really been working for a while, for my face to look like this. I groaned. "Hina!" 

"See, this will help you when you blush today." My elder sister walked over and wrapped her arm around my shoulders. "After all, the great Iman Fawad doesn't want anyone to see her blush, does she?" 

"Yeah, and she wants to look like she has been pelted with tomatoes." I muttered sarcastically. 

"Hina." Appi looked at her daughter disapprovingly. "Apologise to your Khalla. This wasn't nice. You shouldn't do that to anyone." 

I sighed. "You are right, but she doesn't have to apologise to me. She's just a kid, my bestie." 

"This is hilarious though. The prankster has become the victim." Appi smiled. "Anyway, go and get ready now. Mama has the breakfast ready. She wants to seriously pamper you today before we have to leave for the parlour." 

My heart sank a little as I realised that I was leaving my family tonight.

"Okay, now you just look like a sad clown. Go! Freshen up and get ready!" Appi had developed maternal bossiness, and she lightly pushed me towards the bathroom.

"Clown!" Hina giggled.

"Hina, if you don't come with me now, Hamad Bhai will eat all your waffles!" Appi held out her hand towards her daughter, who immediately rushed towards her. "Look at the mess you have made, Hina..." The mother and daughter walked out, closing the door lightly behind them.

****

I sat in the parlour, annoyed. I hated beauty treatments of any sort, and this was just too much. I felt like my face was made of clay and they were moulding it into God-knows-what.

Besides me, on either side of me, my cousins Noor and Amara were getting ready, chatting away excitedly.

I looked up at myself in the mirror and I couldn't recognise myself. The Ali family resemblance was strong, and I could even see a hint of Fariha Phupho in my own reflection. My dark eyes were heavily adorned by eyeliner, mascara and eyeshadow. A beautiful golden teeka was placed on the centre of my forehead, pinned into my hair. The matching golden chandelier earrings brushed the sides of my face as I raised my head a little to properly examine my reflection. My hair was in an up-do, and the red dupatta with the golden border was set over it with pins. 

"You look incredible, Ma Sha Allah." Noor inhaled as she glanced over at me. Her normally curly hair was straightened today, and she looked incredible in her navy blue Anarkali suit with heavy silver embroidery. She was the daughter of my Ahad Mamu, and her facial features and signature curls strongly resembled her mother, Zoya Mumani. 

Meanwhile Arhaan Mamu's daughter, Amara had curled her normally straightened hair, and it was pinned back away from her face, cascading down her back. She wore a rose pink lehenga with silver embroidery and mirror work. "Ma Sha Allah. Doesn't look like our Mani at all, with her usual black jeans and bad-girl style." 

Noor's phone pinged and she reached out to grab it. "Oh! Papa's already here, ladies. We have to head out." 

My cousins waited as the beauticians did the final touches on my bridal look. 

"Let's go, Iman." Amara and Noor grabbed each of my arm carefully, and helped me. 

"Mama will make the final payment by tomorrow." Noor told the beautician, who nodded. 

Upon the insistence of my two Mumanis, they had paid for my hair and make-up. When Mama had tried to protest, my two Mamus had firmly stepped in and told her to listen to her elder brothers, after which she had to concede. 

As we stepped out of the beauty parlour, Ahad Mamu stood right outside, all dressed in a three piece suit. He smiled as he saw us, looking like he was barely controlling his emotions. As we approached him, he lightly placed a hand over my head. "May Allah bless you with a blissful marital life with Taif. Ameen." 

"Ameen." My cousins repeated.

"I can't believe this day is actually here." He shook his head, smiling nostalgically. "Our little Dr Mani." 

Why do I feel the threat of tears?

And then my cousins made it worse, as they started singing in the car as we drove towards my paternal grandparents' home. "Baabul ki duaayein leti jaa, jaa tujhko sukhi sansaar mile. Maike ki kabhi na yaad aaye, sasural main itna pyar mile!"

*Classing bridal farewell song meaning, "Go with your father's prayers, may you have a blissful life (basically). May you never miss you parental home, because you receive so much love in your in-laws."

I was sitting in the front seat besides my Mamu, and my hands were on my lap, suddenly feeling cold. I placed the tips of my index and middle fingers over my radial artery on my wrist, and began to count slowly in my head.

"Are you checking your pulse?" Mamu sounded amused.

I glanced down at my lap, unable to reply. I was suddenly not feeling like myself. I was too overwhelmed by emotions.

"You'll be fine, Iman. In Sha Allah. You are a strong girl, and together you and Taif will build a beautiful life together, with the blessings of Allah." Mamu reassured me. 

"I'm good with science, with medical subjects. I'm not good with maintaining relationships." I admitted quietly. 

"Sometimes we underestimate ourselves, Mani. At least give yourself the chance to prove yourself." He quickly glanced at me as he drove. "You wanted to repent for everything and come on the right path, and you did it, Mani. I believe that you can do anything you set your mind to, Ma Sha Allah." He winked. "After all, you are also a descendant of Ahad Sheikh." 

I smiled at him. "Thank you, Mamu." 

"Just stay on the right path and keep your iman mazboot, and you will overcome all problems and anxieties, In Sha Allah."

*Iman mazboot: faith strong.

"In Sha Allah." I whispered.

****

I stepped into the foyer of the Ali family home, and saw my parents standing there waiting for me. 

Mama instantly burst into tears as she saw me. Wearing a dark magenta sari, with a stunning diamond set, she looked beautiful, Ma Sha Allah. Again, her hair was in a stylish up-do. She walked over to me and recited protection supplication, and blew it over me.

Papa, wearing a black sherwani, stayed on the spot, his jaw clenched as he tried to control his emotions. After all, seeing his choti patakhi as a bride must be one of the toughest things in the world for him.

My red lehenga with the golden embroidery trailed behind me as I walked over to him. I stumbled a little in my horribly high stiletto heels, but Mama gripped my arm and kept my balance.

Papa walked over and placed a hand over my head and it took me everything not to cry. After also reciting supplications and blowing it over me, he smiled. "Ma Sha Allah." 

I looked up towards the stairs, remembering the multiple times we'd come to Lahore, and Appi and I had raced into the foyer into Dado's welcoming arms. Dada Jaan used to come on the landing at the top of the stairs and smile down at us. I really, really missed him. He would have been thrilled at the wedding of his beloved granddaughter, Dr Iman Fawad.

"We're  getting late." Mama whispered. She turned to look up the stairs, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Hania, come on! Hamza!"

My sister and her husband rushed down a few moments later, with their kids. Baby Hassam was fast asleep in his father's arms, while Hina and Hamad looked adorable in eastern outfits.

"Khalla!" Hina looked at me excitedly as she saw me. "Wow! You look like a princess!"

"Thanks, jaani." I smiled down at her, before glancing up at my sister. She was wearing her Valima outfit, an ice blue maxi-lehenga. The maxi was floor length, with a slit on the side, with ombré shades of blue at the bottom. The entire outfit had silver embroidery and a stunning silver border. The dupatta was dark blue, like in the ombré shades of the maxi, and again the border was silver and absolutely beautiful. Her hair was in a braided bun, adorned with dark blue and silver sparkling clips, kept away from her face for the sake of her baby son.

"Mani." She walked over to me, and like Mama, her eyes welled up. "My little Mani doll. Ma Sha Allah." She hugged me as best as she could without ruining my hair or make-up.

"Come on, one photo of the four of you." Hamza Bhai had his camera bag hung from his shoulder, and he instantly took out his professional camera. 

"Hamza..." Appi began to protest.

But he didn't listen. "Come on. You'll thank me later, Han." 

My sister and I stood between our parents, with my arm around Papa's waist, and Hamza Bhai took our photos. In the next photo, my sister's kids joined us, and in the last photo one of the drivers came and took our photo that included Hamza Bhai.

"Chota damaad will be in the next one as well, In Sha Allah." My brother-in-law grinned at my parents.

*Younger son-in-law.

Appi and her family went in Hamza Bhai's car, while my parents led me out to Papa's car. He wasn't driving today, and I ended up sitting in the back between them both. 

"It's normal to be nervous." Mama told me.

I scoffed. "Who's nervous? I'm just irritated by this dress up and make up and heavy jewellery..." 

"You don't have to act tough in front of everyone, Mani." She took my hand between both of hers and squeezed it. "I know you better than anyone else." 

I looked at her, giving up the façade. "I finally understand why Appi was hyperventilating on her wedding day." I gave her a reassuring smile. "But it's okay. I can handle some nerves. I've dealt with tougher situations in the form of exams in medical school. I'll be fine. In Sha Allah." 

"In Sha Allah." Mama repeated.

But she held onto my hand for the rest of the way, and I felt her own anxiety and nerves transfer into me. I squeezed her hand reassuringly. No matter how terrified I was, I had to remain strong for her. I know how difficult this all would be for her, more than anyone else.

****

Taif

My mother couldn't stop crying as she saw me in my sherwani. "Ammi Jaan." I smiled down at her, placing my hands on her shoulders.

"Ma Sha Allah, my little boy!" She couldn't stop saying.

"I'm over thirty, Ammi Jaan, I'm not a little boy." I wrapped an arm around her shoulders and kissed the side of her head.

"Chup kar! How would you know how a mother feels?" 

*"Be quiet!"

"Begum Sahiba, dair hundi payi ay. Chaliye?" Baba Jaan, wearing his plain white shalwar kameez, glanced in our direction.

*"Missus, we are getting late. Shall we go?"

My parents were at least a decade older than Dr Fawad, and were now in their elderly stage. I was constantly worried about them, and I was secretly thrilled that Iman was okay with us living with them. 

"Let's go." Ammi Jaan nodded. But I could see a worry on her face that I had noticed quite often recently, but each time I'd asked, she'd denied it.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Would it all be enough?" She asked me. "You've seen Iman's parents' home. They are wealthy, beta. How will we ever compare to them?" 

"Ammi Jaan," I grabbed her hands and kissed them. "Fawad Uncle and Jasmina Aunty have repeatedly reassured you not to worry about these things. So, please, for the love of Allah, stop worrying and cheer up. It's your akloti aulaad's wedding."

*Akloti aulaad: only child.

"But..."

I glanced at Baba Jaan, who just chuckled in amusement. "Let's go." 

We got into the car and headed to the wedding venue. Our party was small, with no more than thirty-five people. I was expecting Iman's side to have at least ten times more guests, considering how well-connected her Dadiyal and Naniyal sides were.

I suddenly felt nervous, and gripped the collar of my sherwani, pulling it away from my damp skin. I'm getting married. In Sha Allah.

Ya Allah. Please don't let me faint.

****

Loud cheers and whoops greeted me as I stepped out of the car.  I looked up towards the entrance of the hall and saw Iman's male cousins standing at the front of the hall, along with the hired guys playing the dhol. When they spotted me, they started playing the drums, and Iman's cousins started to dance.

I gulped, feeling my cheeks warm up. I hated attention and I prayed silently that the guys didn't drag me into the dance.

Two of Iman's eldest cousins, Omar Bhai, and Ismael Bhai approached us, smiling warmly, and greeted me and my parents.

"I don't dance..." I stuttered.

"Don't worry, nobody will force you." Omar Bhai reassured me, placing a hand on my back. "The two of us were sent here to ensure that. Nobody should bother the newest son-in-law." 

I almost sighed in relief, but didn't think that looked very respectful. "Thank you." 

"Come on." Omar Bhai looked at my father. "Ki haal hai thoda, Uncle? Hun lat da ki haal ay?"

*"How are you, Uncle? How is your leg now?"

Baba Jaan had tripped over last month and had injured his leg. Fortunately, he hadn't fractured a bone, but he was still in pain, and had to use a walking stick to walk now.

"Alhumdulillah. Ay te umar nal hunda hi hai, puttar." Baba Jaan smiled, brushing aside his pain and inconvenience. He rarely complained, and always thank Allah, regardless of his situation.

*"Alhumdulillah. These things happen with age, son."

"Ki kehnde ho tussi? Tussi te hale wi jawan o." Omar Bhai spoke with the utmost respect for his elders, and he never failed to impress the elders with his etiquettes and regard.

*"What are you saying? You are still young." 

Omar Bhai and Ismael Bhai carefully navigated us past the dancing crowd, and the latter glared at his younger brother and cousins warningly to stop them from dragging me.

We stepped into the hall where the doors were flanked by lines of the bridal side. We were showered with rose petals as we walked down the path towards where my in-laws stood. 

Fawad Uncle hugged Baba Jaan, congratulating him, before turning to me and hugging me. Meanwhile, Ammi Jaan greeted Iman's mother and aunts, all laughing and congratulating each other. I then hugged Iman's Mamu, and her Phupho's husband, Zafar Uncle. Everyone was warm and welcoming.

"Assalam Alaikum, Aunty." I bent my head in front of Jasmina Aunty, and she ran her hand over it, giving me duas.

"Walaikum Assalam." She smiled at me. 

"Welcome." Hamza Bhai suddenly appeared next to me, a cheeky smile on his face. "Kaise hain aap, chotay damad?" 

*"How are you, younger son-in-law?"

"He's not your son-in-law that you're calling him that, Hamza." Ahad Uncle teased him.

"Yeah, I know you're old, but not that much." I joked, before mentally facepalming. Was that joke too much? Was I on that level yet with Hamza Bhai?

But to my surprise, everyone laughed, including Hamza Bhai. "Touché." He nodded.

But Ammi Jaan glared at me, discreetly.

The hall was beautifully decorated, with a gorgeous chandelier hung just in the centre of the room, right before the approach to the stage. It was an elegant set up, yet not over the top. I wondered if they'd intentionally kept it relatively modest, for our sake. If yes, then they didn't show it. It was impressive how they tried to keep the emotions and respect of my family, and I felt my respect increase for Iman's family.

Fawad Uncle led me to the stage. "Treat my daughter right. Otherwise, remember, I'm your boss at work." He gave me a warm smile to show me that he was joking, but I knew that he definitely meant the first sentence.

"Your daughter is going to be my life partner, and partners are treated equally, with respect and care. I promise, I won't let her, or you and Aunty, down. And if I ever do anything to unintentionally upset or hurt Iman, I will make up for it with everything that I have." 

He patted my back and nodded.

"Uncle?" I paused in my steps.

He turned to look at me questioningly.

"She worked hard for her career, to be known as Dr Iman Fawad." I felt myself starting to stammer with nerves. "I-I...I promise... I promise that I would never come in the way of her or her career. I'm proud of Dr Iman Fawad for exactly who she is, and I love her for it." 

"I'm very glad to hear that. May Allah give you both a long and blissful life together. Ameen." 

"Ameen." I glanced towards the stage, ready to start the newest chapter of my life with Iman.

*

To be continued....

I haven't written in a long time, so there was not much creativity in this chapter. This is just to get me back on track.

Thank you for your patience, guys! 

Thoughts an comments?

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