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*

Ifra

I arrived at the office of StarLite Islamabad at 09:20 and waited around to be called into a meeting with the team.

This was such an important project for me, and I felt nervous.

"Miss Emaad?" A woman approached me as I sat in the waiting area.

"Yes?" I looked up.

"I am Soraiya Shah. I am Mr Ali's PA." She was tall, with hair that ended just above her shoulders. The dark brown locks had purple highlights, and she wore large silver hoop earrings. She wore high-waisted jeans and a black t-shirt with the name of a classic English band.

"Ifra Emaad." I shook her extended hand.

"Nice to meet you. Please follow me inside." 

I grabbed my tote bag and followed her into a conference room. Huzaifa Ali sat at the head of the table, with two other people sat at various positions at the table, all with laptops open in front of them.

"Miss Emaad." Huzaifa stood up, a welcoming smile on his face. "Welcome to the team. Guys, this is Ifra Emaad, and she will be joining us in Khwabpur. She is from the London branch of StarLite." He gestured towards the girl with strawberry blonde hair and blue eyes. "Ifra, this is Robin Matthews. She is the best editor on our team, and she's an Australian vlogger who documents her life here in Islamabad." 

"Nice to meet you." I smiled at her.

"Nice to meet you too." She replied.

"And this is Hassan Shujaat ," Huzaifa pointed to the tall lean guy with glasses and almost shoulder length hair. "He's our official cameraman."

"Hey." Hassan nodded politely at me.

"Hi."

"I've already introduced myself." Soraiya said, before Huzaifa could introduce her.

"Welcome to the team, Miss Emaad." Huzaifa said. "Please have a seat. Let's get on with it." 

"You can call me Ifra." I said before having a seat.

"Are you Syra's cousin?" Hassan asked me.

I nodded. "She's my Khalla's daughter."

As we all settled down for the meeting, Huzaifa began. "Khwabpur is a peaceful village, and we have no such intention to disturb or disrupt its peace. We will only be there to capture its natural beauty, and to experience what it's like in this so-called idealistic village." He glanced around at us as we speak. "Bear in mind to respect people and their privacy, and if people seem uncomfortable with the cameras or your questions, back off. We are not going there to cause any problems or discomfort for them."

I nodded as I listened. Syra had given me the gist of what life was like in Khwabpur. She'd loved it there. I hope I like it too.

*

Huzaifa

The elderly man sat on the landing of the steps of the mosque as usual, huddled up in his corner.

I handed him a bag with a container with daal chawal. "Here you, Chacha."

*Daal chawal: lentil and boiled rice.

I sat down beside him on the steps. 

He opened the container and began to eat hungrily using the disposable spoon I'd placed in there. It wasn't store bought food. It was homemade, made by Amma Jaan.

"Allah tenu khush rakhe. Allah tenu lambi zindagi deway te sehat tandarosti deway. Ameen." The man looked at me.

*"May Allah give you happiness. May Allah give you a long life and good health. Ameen."

For years now, I have seen this elderly man at the steps of the mosque. His name was Ishfaq sahab, and he lived alone since the demise of his wife. The couple never had any children, but from my understanding, both had been very happy together. I worried about him, but he lived with the strong believe that Allah was sufficient for him. And I'd never, ever heard the man complain. In fact, he was always thanking Allah. 

""Bas thodiyan, saade bazurgan diyan duawan ne jediyan kam aandiyan ne." I said.

*"It's yours and my elders' duas that help us."

"Kaar waali labbi koi?" He asked.

*"Did you find a wife yet?"

"Halle tikar te nai. Jadon labbe gi, thouno sab to pehle dawat dewan ga apne veya te." I smiled at him.

*"Not yet. When I find her, I'll give you the first invitation to my wedding."

"Tu changa munda ae, Ma Sha Allah. Tenu changi labbe gi, In Sha Allah."

*"You are a good guy, Ma Sh Allah. You'll find a good wife, In Sha Allah."

"Jameel sahab apni kudi da rishta mere nal karan chande ne." I admitted.

*"Mr Jameel wants me to marry his daughter." 

He looked thoughtfully at me for a few seconds. "Tu nai karna chanda?" 

*"You don't want that?" 

I sighed. "Changi howay gi o kudi. Allah naseeb ache kare oday. Ameen. Par menu kuch theek nai lagda ais rishtay de mamlay vich."

*"She might be a good girl. May Allah give her a good life ahead. Ameen. But I don't feel right regarding this marriage alliane."

He patted my back. "Koi gal nai. Dair lagale, par soch samajhke veya kareen. Jald bazi di koi lodh nai agar kuch theek nai lagda."

*"Don't worry. Take your time, but think carefully before getting married. There's no need to rush things if it doesn't seem right."

I nodded.

"Kadon ja reya ae tu gaon?" He asked.

*"When are you going to the village?" 

"Do dinan'ch." I replied. "In Sha Allah."

*"In two days."

"Fee Aman Allah." He said. "Allah tenu kamyabi de. Ameen."

*"Remain in the Protection of Allah."
"May Allah give you success. Ameen."

I knew very well that he meant this regarding my career.

But it seemed that his dua also impacted me a personally as well. 

*

We were leaving in a minibus, early in the morning.

Hassan was driving and Robin was in the front passenger seat beside him.

Ifra got onto the bus last, panting. "Sorry I'm late. I overslept." Her black hair flowed over her shoulders and down her back, and her blue eyes were hidden by her sunglasses. She was dressed in a three-quarter sleeved navy blue top, high from the front and longer from the bottom, and she wore matching paisley print wide-leg trousers in multi-pastel colours. She headed towards the back of the bus and took seat by the window.

"Very professional." I muttered while grinning, my own tired eyes hidden behind sunglasses.

"I'm still jet-lagged. I have an excuse." She replied.

"Hmm." Was all I said. For some reason, I felt her glare before I even turned to look at her over my shoulder. Indeed, it was an 'if looks could kill' situation. 

"Ignore him. He loves irritating people."  Soraiya told Ifra.

"My respect for Syra has greatly increased." Ifra muttered.

"I mean, she's always punctual, so I have no reason to irritate her." I shrugged.

"Just go to sleep, Boss." Hassan called out from the driving seat.

I took his advice, not because he told me to, but because I was genuinely sleepy.

Khwabpur was a fair distance away. 

I settled into my seat, closing my eyes once again.

*

Ifra

I had seen photos sent by Syra, but nothing could have prepared me for the natural beauty as we approached Khwabpur.

The mountains dominated the landscape, like monarchs overlooking their spectacular kingdom. Lush green grass looked so soft that I was tempted to run my hands through it. It seemed to be a land blessed with the various elements of nature that enhanced the greenery. The emerald green of the forests in the distance was like the cherry on top of an already delectable-looking cake.

"Can we stop for a few minutes?" I asked.

"Sure." Hassan replied.

Huzaifa and Robin were asleep, while Soraiya looked as amazed by the scenery as I felt. 

As Hassan stopped, I slid open the door and stepped outside, draping my shawl over my shoulders. It was cold outside, and Mama had insisted that I kept as many warm clothes as possible since I was visiting the north. 

We had stopped by the roadside halfway up a mountain. The edge of the road was a steep drop into the valley below, and there was a metal railing for safety. I felt the breeze ruffle my hair as I stared out at the serenity of nature. I raised my phone to take a few photos. 

"Amazing, isn't it?" 

I jumped and turned to see Soraiya walk up to me. "Ma Sha Allah, yes." 

"When nature reminds us of its beauty, it truly takes our breath away, huh?" She asked, hugging herself. She wore blue jeans and a cream turtleneck sweater.

"Yep. It's power is epic." I nodded.

"So, how are you adjusting so far away from home?" She asked.

"So far, it's been great. But I have been staying in a five star hotel, so I can't really say that I have experienced much of reality." I glanced at her. "Where will we be staying?" 

"Syra has connections to the haveli there. They are letting us stay in the annexe because they know Syra so well." She exhaled deeply before turning to me. "Let's go before Boss wakes up and starts complaining." 

"Mr Grumpy." I muttered.

She laughed. "That's an understatement, Ifra."

We headed back to the minibus. 

*

When we arrived in Khwabpur, I saw exactly why Syra fell in love with this cute, picturesque village. It was such a pretty, immaculate village, with mud hut homes, and cows tied in the yards of people's homes. Goats were occasionally walked through the streets by farmers, and kids played cricket, the nation's favourite pastime. 

The minibus bumped over the uneven road, and even when at some point I felt that it was too big to pass through the narrow streets, Hassan somehow managed it. We kept driving straight towards the haveli that loomed over the village. 

"This is brilliant!" Robin commented. "We can get epic content here." 

People were staring curiously at us as we passed them by. Finally, Hassan stopped the car just by the haveli gates and honked the horn. A guard opened the smaller pedestrian gate and peered out, coming out to speak to Hassan. When the latter explained why we were here, the guard gestured for his colleague to open the gate and let us through. 

Syra had once correctly described the haveli to me, as a perfect combination of the Mughal Empire and the British Empire, with stone archways, jaali windows. The remaining windows were wide and large, giving off an air of the Victoria era. It was beautiful, and I couldn't stop staring at it.

"This haveli belongs to Dilawar Baig and his wife Lubna Dilawar, the Sardar of the village. Their grown-up son Zeeshan also lives here with his wife Jannah, and their young infant son Zayan." Hassan spoke like a tour guide.

"Yes, Jannah is a very good friend of Syra's." I nodded.

"It was very kind of them to let us stay here." Huzaifa's voice startled me a little. He had been asleep all along, almost making me forget his presence.

"They adore Syra. Her parents-in-laws are also very good friends of the Baig family seniors." I said.

"Syra did a brilliant project." Huzaifa glanced at me over his shoulder. "Let's see if you can live up to your cousin's name." 

"It's not a competition. Syra is brilliant, Ma Sha Allah, and I'm not here to outrank her. I'm here for the sake of my own project, to experience the beauty of this place that she has described so much."

*

Jannah Zeeshan Baig was a modern woman. Dressed in a Bohemian print light blue and brown knee-length dress, blue skinny jean and tan stiletto heeled open-toed sandals. Her hair was in a braid and she wore glasses. An infant boy was in her arms, steadied on her hip. She greeted us warmly.

"I'm Ifra, Syra's cousin." I shook her hand.

"Very nice to meet you. Syra spoke a lot about you." She smiled. 

I introduced the team to her. She told us that her husband would be back later from the city, and her in-laws had gone for Umrah. She then waved over a couple of members of the haveli staff to take our luggage to the annexe, while she lead our group inside the haveli.

"Lunch will be ready in another half an hour or so, but until then, would you all like tea, coffee or cold drink?" Jannah asked.

We requested water, but she had asked the maid to bring fresh homemade lemonade.

"Syra had really promoted Khwabpur. Now we couldn't resist coming here." I grinned at  her.

"Yes, Syra had a heck of an adventure here." Jannah smiled.

*

To know more about Syra's 'heck of an adventure', read 'Unexpectedly' if you haven't already!

*

*

The lunch was more of a 'feast'. Chicken biryani, kebabs, chicken tikkas, raita, bhindi (okra dish) and Naan. It was delicious!

Once we were done, Jannah asked one of the maids to take her napping son to his nursery, before she guided us out towards the annexe. "I have had the whole place stocked up, but don't hesitate to let me know if you need anything."

The annexe was more Mughal Empire style, sandy coloured with archways and jaali railing.

"The girls' portion is on the second floor, the guys will be on the ground floor, and the roof is common use." Jannah grinned. "It is amazing to sit on the roof and have tea. We have furniture and everything set up there."

The guys were shown their rooms first, before Soraiya, Robin and I were led upstairs. 

"Syra's family use this place when they are around." Jannah explained. "They love it here." 

"It looks so amazing."  Robin's eyes were wide with awe.

"There's air-conditioning in each room, everything has been cleaned to perfection, fresh sheets, fresh everything. I've even stocked towels in each room." Jannah said. 

"You guys have gone through so much trouble." Soraiya said, softly.

"Hospitality is heavily emphasised in Khwabpur, and we pride ourselves for it." Jannah said. "I've learned from my mother-in-law, who never left any stone unturned to make guests feel welcome." 

"You're doing a great job." I said, sincerely. "No wonder Syra praises you a lot."

She laughed. "Syra is too kind." 

My room was beautiful and large, with white marble floors and wooden doors with panelled glass that opened up into a mini balcony. The bed was large, with white sheets, a mint green throw and matching throw cushions. Behind the bed on the wall was wooden panelling carved with intricate designs the reflected the true grandeur of the haveli. Just in front of the balcony doors was a round table and comfortable wooden-framed chairs, with mint-green throw cushions placed over them as well. While the doors gave an aura of decades past, it was clear that they were newly refurbished, simply designed to reflect history.

Outside my room was an open-aired hallway with marble floor that reminded me of a chess board, and almost Grecian style pillars. Potted plants lined the hallway, with the flowers emanating a wonderful scent.

Jannah left us to get settled in, and after a while, I stepped out into the hallway. The hallway was empty, with the girls probably still in their rooms. I decided to head up to the roof. Jannah had briefly pointed towards the stone steps that led up there.

I made my way up, and as I was halfway there, I heard a voice.

"Kaun hai?" It was like a squawk.

*"Who is it?" 

Startled briefly, my curiosity made me continue upstairs. Opening the large wooden doors, I stepped out onto the room. I instantly spotted the bird cages...and the owner of the voice. 

A beautiful green parrot turned its head to stare at me. "Kaun hai?" It repeated. 

I smiled. "Ifra." 

"Ifra. Ifra." It repeated my name, making me laugh in delight and amazement.

But then my gaze went to the other catches, and my breath caught in my throat. There were four beautiful pigeon-like birds in there, pinkish brown in colour. "Wow, you guys are gorgeous, aren't you?" 

I wasn't really a fan of birds, nor did I disliked them. But these birds, including the parrot, were absolutely breath-taking to look at.

"They're called laughing doves." A male voice made me jump. "They are native to South Asia, Africa, the Middle East and even Western Australia." 

I turned and saw Huzaifa making his way across the roof. He was dressed in a grey shalwar kameez, his hair damp as if he had freshly showered. I found myself staring at him for longer than necessary. The kameez fit him alarmingly well. Clearing my throat, I turned away and focused on the birds again. "I didn't know you were such an avid birdwatcher." 

"I'm not. My sister wanted a laughing dove and did her research. She just never got to have one." 

"Ifra." The parrot repeated.

"First name basis, huh?" Huzaifa smirked at him.

I rolled my eyes.

He leaned closer to the cage. "Huzaifa."

"Zaif! Zaif!" Was what the parrot repeated, making me laugh.

"Nickname basis, huh?" I joked back.

He also laughed, before glancing at his watch. "It's almost Asr time. I'm going to find the local mosque. Just thought I'd come and check out the roof while I had some time." 

I now glanced around at the rest of the rooftop: jaali railing, metallic framed furniture with soft white cushions,  and a lot of potted plants. I could tell that the Baig family loved their plants. "It's such a wonderful place, so comforting." 

He nodded. "You continue making friends." He nodded towards the parrot. "I'll see you later." 

I rolled my eyes again as he left. "Still better friends than you, Mr Grumpy."

"Grumpy. Grumpy." The parrot repeated and I doubled over laughing.

*

Third Person POV

While the other girls continued settling in, Robin headed downstairs. She recalled seeing stables, and as she loved horses, she wanted to go and check them out for herself.

It was a surprisingly fair distance to walk to the stables, but eventually she found herself entering them. She could hear the horses and saw a chocolate brown one peeking over the door of its stall. "Hi there!" She walked over. She didn't want to instantly stroke it, worried about startling it.

"Who are you?!" A loud voice made her whirl around, startled.

A man stood in front of her, frowning. He had dark curly hair that curled at the nape of his neck, and he wore a white vest and black jeans. A silver cross rested over his chest, hanging from a silver chain, as well as a pair of sunglasses hooked over the neckline.

"M-My name is Robin. I'm a guest of the family." Robin explained, trying to compose herself. 

He visibly relaxed. "You with the group?"

She nodded. "I love horses, so I thought I'd come and see them..." She frowned. "Who are you?" 

"Samuel. I'm the stableman." He walked past her. "These horses are my responsibility."

Before she could stop herself, she blurted out. "A stableman who wears Timberlands and Aviators?" Robin, you sound very judgemental right now.

A man Robin had never met before walked in then, shaking his head. "Are you bothering our guest, Sam?" He glanced towards her. "Robin, right?" He had freckles on his cheeks and curly black hair. 

She nodded. "Robin Matthews. I'm an editor for StarLite. A colleague of Syra's."

"Zeeshan Dilawar Baig." He said. "I'm Jannah's husband. And this is Samuel Turner. He and I knew each other during childhood, as he grew up here, but he moved away with his family when we were barely ten. It was a huge coincidence when I met him in the US." 

"Small world." Robin muttered.

"Right?" Zeeshan slapped Samuel's back. 

"Is he your stableman?" Robin asked, confused.

"No. Idiot has been staying here for a few days, and because he spends so much time in here, he jokes that he might as well be the stableman." Zeeshan explained.

Samuel chuckled.

Robin felt irritated. He was annoying, and was seriously getting on her nerves. Ignoring him, she turned to Zeeshan. "It's nice to meet you, Zeeshan. I'll see you later." She walked out of the stables. 

Was Samuel somehow mocking me? Ugh, that arrogant smirk!

*

Soraiya came out of her room and saw Hassan sitting on the steps in the veranda, focused on his camera. She walked over to sit down beside him.

He looked up. "Hey."

"Hi." She spoke very quietly.

He sighed, shaking his head as he stared heavenwards. "There's no point, Riya. I've spoken to them. They want a conservative girl." 

"Just because I don't dress in eastern wear does not mean that I don't value our religion or cultural beliefs." 

"To them, the attire is just as important." 

"And to you?" She asked, uncertainly.

"I know you, Riya. Nothing else matters. You are a wonderful, kind person. That's all I care about." He stared deeply into her eyes.

"But you won't go against your parents, and I won't ask you to." She said, simply.

"I honestly don't know what to do." He ran a hand through his hair. 

The two stared out at the veranda, but unsure of how to proceed next.

*

Ifra

"Look who it is!" Syra grinned at me through the video call. "Reached Khwabpur?"

"Yeah, we're at the haveli. They're so welcoming!" I told her. "I wish you could be here."

"I would love that, except that I can go into labour with my little madam any day." She sighed.

In the background, I saw her two-year-old son Hadi jumping on the bed. "Hey, Hadi!"

"IFRA KHALLA!" He screamed, wrapping his arms around his mother's neck.

"We'll plan a trip to Khwabpur sometimes in the future, In Sha Allah." Syra said. "Maybe we can drag our other cousins along." 

I could see Harris Bhai trying to call me. "Sy, I'll call you in a bit. Harris Bhai is calling. I better get all the WhatsApp calls over and done with before load shedding kills the Wi-Fi."

"Alright, cool. Keep me updated." She smiled.

After the call ended, I called my brother back. 

"Hey." He answered. "Reached the village?" 

"Yes, we have reached Khwabpur." 

"I cannot imagine you living a village life." He smirked.

"I'm in a haveli. This is so cool." I frowned. "What are you up to?" 

"Just going to the cinema with Shayaan and Rohaan. I was under strict orders by Mama to regularly remain in touch with you." 

I couldn't help laughing. "Mama is so overprotective."

"She almost made me come to Islamabad after you, but luckily my education saved your life." He said. 

"Thank God!"

He turned serious. "Iffy, just be careful, okay?"

"I'll be fine. I'm with a bunch of responsible adults who Syra knows very well." 

"Yeah, but still. The world is s**t with nasty people. Just be careful, seriously."

"Your brotherly concerns touches my heart." 

"Ugh, I'm not concerned. I'm just conveying Mama's message." 

"Sure, sure, Harry. Whatever you say." I laughed. "I love you, too." 

"Buzz off, Izzy." He ended the call abruptly, making me laugh harder.

*

Huzaifa

I stood on the roof just before tea, staring up at the sky as the sun edged towards the horizon. It was so nice and peaceful here, not the usual hustle and bustle of Laal Baksh Mohalla, where I lived with my parents. But Laal Baksh Mohalla is home, and I love it there too.

"Grumpy." The parrot squawked, causing me to turn to look at it.

"What did you say?" I said, stunned.

"Grumpy. *Squawk* Grumpy." 

I had no doubt about who had taught him that. I just knew it was her.

"His name is Gulab Jaman." Jannah told me as she came out onto the roof, carrying a tray of snacks while maids followed behind with more snacks and tea.

"Gulab Jaman?" I repeated.

"Ask Zeeshan. He named him." 

"Better than the cliché Mian Mitthu, I suppose." I shrugged.

The rest of the StarLite team came upstairs then, with Ifra at the end.

"Grumpy." Gulab Jaman squawked again.

Ifra's blue eyes widened in surprise, before turning to me. I raised an eyebrow at her, and she pursed her lips as if to hide a smile, but her eyes gave away her sentiments.

Zeeshan and a man we hadn't yet met joined us, with the former holding Zayan. The baby boy clapped happily as he saw the birds. Zeeshan turned to us. "Guys, this is Samuel, my friend." 

We all introduced ourselves to Samuel, with Robin remaining tight-lipped. It was strange to see her like that. She was one of the friendliest person I knew.

"It's so nice to have guests! Village life can get really lonely." Jannah said. 

The tea was delicious, the food wonderful, and laughter and chatter resonated across the rooftop as we all had a good time. 

*

Dinner time seemed to be a celebration of its own. It seemed to be like a proper dinner party, and everyone wore nice outfits. I chose to wear black shalwar kameez.

As I entered the haveli, Zeeshan greeted me warmly, leading me into the large dining room, where Hassan and Soraiya were already present with Samuel.

"I'm going to just wash my hands before eating." I told Zeeshan, heading out to the veranda where I'd seen a sink.

"You can use the bathroom, yaar. What are you doing?" He said.

"It's okay, don't worry." I smiled reassuringly at him. "The outdoor sink reminds me of home anyway." 

After washing my hands, I headed under the archway through the door leading into the house. My feet stopped in their tracks.

Ifra was walking towards the dining room, almost rushing as if she was late. She wore a beautiful dark green frock with a golden border with intricate floral patterns. A similar pattern was halfway over her sleeve, along with large circular mirrorwork, as well as over the bodice of the dress. Along with the outfit, she wore gold-coloured chudidar. The dupatta was white, but had a similar golden border. Her hair was pulled back in a stylish up-do, and she wore golden chandelier earrings.

At this point, Gulab Jaman probably had more words to say than me. I was rendered speechless. 

She met my gaze as she began to enter the dining room, and also stopped in her tracks. After a few moments of keeping her gaze locked with mine, she smiled weakly. "Hey, Grumpy." With a wider grin, she rushed into the room.

I found a corner of my mouth lifting up in a smile as well.

What the hell, Huzaifa? Don't fall weak. She's a foreigner, she's going to go away soon. Don't get all filmy now.

*

Ifra

My heart almost stopped when I saw Huzaifa in the black shalwar kameez. If the grey one had suited him, black was epic.

Astaghfirullah! Purify your thoughts, girl! 

But I found my gaze heading towards him repeatedly. His chilled back grin as he spoke to Zeeshan, his forearms as he rolled his sleeves back before eating, the way his sleeves clung onto his biceps too snuggly. 

Astaghfirullah! 

It should be Ma Sha Allah, not Astaghfirullah! A devilish thought in my mind made me blush.

Shut up, Ifra. Focus on the plate. The empty plate. When will the food come? God, I'm hungry, despite the tea snacks. It smells good. What could it be?

I sometimes wished that there was a mute button for my mind.

I now wish that Huzaifa Ali WAS a grumpy old man with a frumpy style and a moustache that was thick enough to be considered a house broom. It would have made this trip much easier.

*

They have arrived in Khwabpur!

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