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Zafar

"Yeh sab kya hai?" I glanced at the bags that Fari had set on the bed.

*"What is all this?"

"Yeh gifts hain bachon ke liye. Unki aunts ki taraf se." Fariha looked at me, a little uncomfortably.

*"These are gifts for the kids, from their aunts."

I almost felt sick at the sight. Looking at the bags, I knew that the stuff wasn't cheap. I could buy a whole wardrobe for all three of our sons from our local bazaar at the price that they'd bought only these small number of items for. "And you accepted these?"

"What could I have done, Zafar?" She sat down. "They bought it and brought it outside for me."

I rubbed a hand over my face. "Fariha, this is too much, yaar." 

She didn't reply but I could tell that she agreed. She was deep in thoughts. 

"Food and drink is different, but this..." I gestured towards the bag. "What are they trying to prove?"

"Nothing!" She looked at me, surprised. "Zafar, you know them. They're just being nice." 

"Sometimes, Fari, there's a very thin line between being nice and hurting someone's self respect." I shook my head. "I don't doubt their intentions at all, but they should have been a little bit more considerate." 

"Zafar, you might be reading too much into this. They wouldn't have even thought about things this way." She seemed like she was arguing within her inner self, rather than me. She was trying to convince herself.

"Of course they didn't think about it, because they don't need to." I kept my tone gentle and respectful. "I'm only using this as an example, so please don't get offended, but let's say someone gifts an expensive toy to Hania. Yes, her parents will be against it, being the sort of people they are, but at the end of the day, Fawad Bhai and Jasmina Bhabi can easily afford to give an equivalent gift back. Ma Sha Allah."

"Nobody's expecting anything in return,  Zafar." Fariha sounded almost innocent as she said that. I didn't blame her. She herself had grown up in a privileged background, so she might not understand what I was trying to say as easily. But I had to talk to her and make her understand, and I was convinced that she would understand, because Fariha is a very sensible person, Ma Sha Allah.

"I know, jaan. I know they won't expect anything, and that is their kindness." I sighed. "But when there is a class difference, even between family, people need to have consideration for others." 

"Waise, ek baat kahoon, Zafar? Mujhe bhi thoda sa bura laga tha." She admitted. "I mean, I was happy and I appreciated their love for my children, but I felt...I can't describe it, but it wasn't a good feeling." 

*"Shall I say something, Zafar? I felt a little bad as well." 

"It's about self-respect, Fari." I tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. 

"I'm sorry, Zafar, but I couldn't have refused them."  She looked at me. "As I said, they bought it and then brought it for me." 

"Shall I talk to Ahad and Fawad Bhai?" I wondered out loud.

"No!" She looked horrified. "I'll handle it my own way next time. We're not creating problems for Bhabi and Zoya just because they unintentionally made us feel bad. I'll try and discreetly talk to the ladies first, and if they still don't understand my hint, I will take to them directly in a respectful manner. They're both mature and understanding, and they'll know what I'm saying."

I couldn't look at her. "This must be so embarrassing for you, right? I've known you forever, Fari. Your parents provided everything and more, for you and Fawad Bhai." 

"I'm not embarrassed at all, Zafar." She took my hand. "We both work hard and honestly, and we can provide all the necessities for our family, Alhumdulillah. There's nothing embarrassing about that.  Money and wealth is all materialistic." 

I smiled at her. "Zaid ko aaj Ammi Jaan aur meri behnon ke paas chodh aao, please." 

*"Leave Zaid with my mother and sisters tonight, please."

She blushed and nodded. "I'll be right back." 

*MehweenGR you briefly mentioned this topic about mothers-in-law and Nands not liking the idea of intimacy between the son/brother and his wife, even though it's completely natural. This bit will briefly touch on that.

I kissed our baby son's cheek, and she took him away. When she returned a few moments later, she was actually blushing harder.

"Kuch kaha Ammi Jaan ne?" I asked as she sat back down in bed beside me, after locking the door.

*"Did Ammi Jaan say something?"

She shook her head. "She just gave me a knowing smile. It's so embarrassing! She knows what we want to do." 

"No worries. My parents used to be quite romantic, even though it was unusual for a middle class family in those times." I pulled her closer towards myself. "Aur tumhari baatein hi aisi hoti hain ke pyar aajata hai mujhe tumpe."

*"And, your words make me want to love you."

"Zafar..." 

I stopped her from talking by pressing my mouth against hers. I knew, without doubt, that my Fariha would understand me. 

When I'd married her, I'd heard a lot of harsh words- not from my parents or sisters, but from our relatives. 'She's a divorcee!', 'She has two kids already?!', 'God knows what's wrong with her that her previous husband ended the marriage'. I mean, why is it that when a couple gets divorced, in our society, people often blame the woman. Is it that hard to believe that a man could be responsible for a marriage breakdown as well?

Well, let me just say one thing: I would rather marry a a divorcee with kids, like Fariha, than a never-been-married girl who has no love or respect or humanity. Because the amount of love and happiness that Fariha had given me, nobody could even begin to compare with that.

Locked in a kiss, we lay back in bed, pulling the light blanket over us. Our hands clasped together, and our feet rubbed against each other. I almost grinned at how delicate her body felt compared to mine. She had an almost newborn son, but she had returned to her original figure already because of her active and hectic lifestyle. Not that I'm complaining. I loved her either way.

"In all the dramas, I forgot to tell you how incredibly s*xy you are, my hero." She whispered as we pulled back for air. "Police officer Zafar, protecting us helpless civilians from danger and harm." She pulled my shirt off slowly. "So, incredibly...hot." 

Whenever she calls me s*xy or hot, I feel almost shy. Why am I like this?

But as we tried to get intimate, I couldn't. The wheels in my head just wouldn't stop running. I couldn't stop thinking about things. 

So I sighed and lay back on the bed and she snuggled up against me. "Sorry, Fari." 

"It's okay. It's not your fault." She whispered. 

****

Jasmina

The night we got back from the shopping trip, I was having dinner with Fawad and my parents-in-law, and I was telling them about the shopping trip.

"...So, we found these cutest things for Fariha's kids, and Zoya Bhabi and I bought them and gifted them to her." I was blabbering on, not noticing the change in their expressions.

"You what?" Fawad asked, quietly.

"We bought gifts for Fariha's children..." I said, slowly trailing off as I noticed everyone sitting there, looking tensed. "Why? Did I do something wrong?" 

"What store did you buy the gifts from, Jasmina?" Ammi asked.

I told her the name of the store. "You know the one? We always got Hania's things from there whenever we're in Lahore." 

"Yes, but beta, you and Fawad buying things from that store for Hania is different to you and Zoya buying things from there for Fariha's kids." Ammi explained. "I'm surprised that Fariha allowed it."

I frowned, confused. "Well, she was outside, and we bought it all and gave her a surprise. But, I don't understand. We're the kids' aunts and..." 

"Mina, regardless of class, no good parent would want their kids to be gifted like this from such an expensive shop." My husband said. "Aunt or not." 

And then I realised what this was about. This wasn't about mine or Zoya Bhabi's intentions. This was about Zafar Bhai's and Fariha's self-respect. 

Ya Allah, what have I done? 

"What must Zafar be thinking?" Ammi looked worried. "What if he's feeling insulted?" 

"Fatima." Papa looked at her. 

"Beta, sochna chahiye tha na. Shaadi ke baad, har choti si choti cheezon ke baare main sochna padhta hai, khaas kar rishatedariyon ke maamlay main." Ammi looked at me, almost irritatedly. 

*"Beta, you should have thought about. After marriage, you need to be considerate about every little thing, especially when it comes to relationships."

"Fatima, humare comparison main, Jasmina abhi bachi hai." Papa looked at her. "Koi baat nahin, ho jata hai. Zafar samajhdar hai. In Sha Allah, bura nahin manaye ga." Then he turned to be. "Just be careful next time, beta."

*"Fatima, compared to us, Jasmina is still a child."
"It's okay, it happens. Zafar is mature and sensible. In Sha Allah, he won't feel bad."

"Shall I go apologise?" I asked, looking at my mother-in-law.

"No, that would look worse." Ammi sighed. "All I can say is that you need to be more careful the next time. I know your heart is at the right place, beta, but many times we need to think practically and not emotionally." 

****

I stood on the terrace, filled with an intense amount of guilt. I had made someone feel bad about themselves, and I hated myself for it. I know it wasn't intentionally, but I should have been more thoughtful.

God, I have lived such a privileged life that I don't even take these things into consideration. I just take Fawad's card or cash and just go around shopping like it's my birth right to buy expensive and designer stuff. 

Wealth and money was not eternal, but goodness and compassion was. Our money wasn't going to help us in the end, our good deeds were. And doing things will having consideration for others around us was very important. 

I started crying. I couldn't bear the guilt. I can bear all other emotions, but not guilt. Guilt feels like a boulder pressing down on my soul, heavy and painful.

Why am I so stupid? Why do I always end up hurting people?

I was sobbing so hard that I had to press my dupatta against my mouth to muffle the noise. I was so tempted to call or text Fariha to apologise, but I was going to listen to my mother-in-law on this one. She knew better.

I want chocolate. A random craving broke through my tears and I wiped my wet cheeks with my dupatta and headed inside the house.

My parents-in-law had gone to bed, and Fawad had been trying to get Hania to sleep- emphasis on the word trying. That daughter of ours was too hyper today, and simply didn't want to sleep.

I went down to the kitchen to grab a bar of chocolate from the cupboard, and sat at the kitchen table, eating it. The truth was that I was feeling a little embarrassed to face Fawad right now. He must be seriously disappointed in me.

As if on cue, he walked in, carrying Hania. She was clearly sleepy, struggling to keep her eyes open and rubbing them occasionally.

"She's still up?" I stood up, surprised.

"Every time I put her down, she sits up, giggling." He shook his head. 

"Hania, ghalat baat hai, baby." I walked over and leaned up to kiss her cheek. "Come on, let's go." 

*"Hania, that's not right, baby."

The three of us headed upstairs, and he set Hania down in the middle of the bed as I sat down by her side. This time Hania turned to face me and closed her eyes, curling up into a little ball as Fawad pulled up the duvet over her. 

"I'm not making things up. She's just making me look bad now. She really kept sitting up and giggling each time." He looked sheepish as he sat on Hania's other side. 

I smiled weakly. "I believe you. I'm her mother, so I know very well how some days she just wants to play and not sleep." 

"Hmm..." He tilted his head back on the headboard, closing his eyes.

"Naraz hain mujhse?" I asked when he didn't speak for a while.

*"Are you angry at me?" 

He looked at me, surprised. "For what?" 

Now, I was surprised. "For buying gifts for Fariha's kids?"

"Yeh koi naraaz hone wali baat hai? Masoom ghalti thi aur niyat tu aap ki theek hi thi, jaan." He muttered, sounded sleepy himself.

*"Is this something to be angry about? It was an innocent mistake and your intentions were good." 

I began to gently massage my legs. It wasn't long before I wouldn't be able to reach them, so I wanted to take advantage while I could. "Acha sunain. Kal main soch rahi thi ke Hania ko fitting ke liye le jaaon ek shop main. Us ke liye maine ek traditional Eid ka outfit banwana hai."

*"Ok, listen. I was thinking of taking Hania to a shop for a fitting  tomorrow. I wanted to have a traditional outfit made for her for Eid."

"Le jaaon ga main tum donon ko." He said, his eyes still closed.

*"I'll take you both."

"Tomorrow you need to help Papa out with a few tasks, remember? We're going home in three days, and this is the time you wanted to dedicated only to your parents." I reminded him. "I'll go with the family driver, don't worry." 

He looked at me and noticed me massaging my legs. "Are they hurting?" 

"Not hurting exactly, just a little sore." I replied. "But stay right where you are. Don't you dare come over." 

But he won't be Fawad if he sits around while his wife is massaging her own legs. He got up immediately. Annoyed, so did I.

"You're sleepy. Go to sleep." I ordered, pretending to look angry and tough.

"Mina..."

"Fawad, I'm not kidding. Stop being so good for once." I shook my head. "I can massage my own legs, thank you." I began to gently shove him towards the bed to his side. 

He laughed. "Mina." 

I made him get back down in bed and then pulled up the duvet over him as well, before leaning forward to kiss him on the forehead. "Good night. I love you." Turning off the light, I headed towards he door, directed by Hania's pink night light.

"Where are you going?" He asked, sounding bewildered.

"I'm going to sleep in the guest room, and this time I have a valid reason." I replied without turning back. 

"What is it?" 

"Hania kept kicking my stomach in her sleep last night." I smiled. "And as she did, Iman seemed to be replying, she was so active last night. It's hard for me to sleep like that." 

He laughed again. "Sibling fights already." 

I giggled quietly as I shut the door behind me and headed to the guest room. 

****

The next day, I left with Hania in the family car. It was an unusually warm day for February in Lahore, and if Hania hadn't been with me, I would have asked the driver to turn up the air conditioning.

We went and had the fitting done. Initially a male tailor was going to have her fitting done, but I wasn't comfortable with that so I requested a female to do it. 

Hania was a good girl, and watched curiously as the woman took her measurements. 

"So a little bigger, because in three months, she would obviously grow, In Sha Allah." I told her. I told her the sort of dress that I wanted for her, and that we would be leaving in a couple of days, and she said that the dress would be delivered to our home the day after tomorrow.

We left and because this shop was quite far from our family home, I fed Hania her sandwich in the car, which I had packed for her. 

I had chosen to come to this shop because it had been highly recommended by both my mother-in-law and mother, but neither one had been available to come with me today.

The car came to a stop on a busy road.

"What happened?" I asked, frowning.

"I'll just check." The driver got out and went to have a look.

He came back and leaned in through the driver's side door a few moments later. "Bhabi, this is a big problem. We are going to need a mechanic for this. If you want, I can flag down a taxi for you and Miss Hania." 

I pursed my lips, thoughtfully for a few moments. "No, I'll try and call my husband first. I'll let you know." I pulled my phone out of my bag. Hania was sitting beside me, my arm around her, and I kissed the top of her head as I dialled Fawad's number.

He answered a few rings later. "Assalam Alaikum, Mina. Everything okay?"

"Walaikum Assalam. Fawad, the car broke down." I frowned as there was too much noise at his end, as if he was out in the city somewhere. "The driver said that we need a mechanic." 

"Where are you?" My husband asked.

"I..." I looked around. "I have no idea. Speak to the driver, please." I handed the phone over to the driver, who explained our location to Fawad, before handing the phone back to me.

"Mina, I'm going to text you an address. Get a taxi and go there. I'll pick you up from there in approximately twenty-five minutes, In Sha Allah."

"Okay, sure." I replied, feeling a little uncomfortable. 

But after the call ended, we waited for a taxi, but the driver couldn't find any, and the one I was trying to book on my phone was taking too long, so I called out to the driver. "Bhai, just get us a rickshaw please." 

The driver looked uncertain, but nodded and soon found a rickshaw. "I have spoken to the driver, and he will not give you any hassle about the fare, Bhabi. It shouldn't be more than two hundred rupees." 

"Thank you, Bhai." Draping a dupatta over my head, I got out of the car and helped Hania out, before climbing into the rickshaw with my daughter. As the rickshaw pulled away, Hania started crying, startled. I was starting to realise my true privilege now.

Yes, I called myself a true Lahori. I was born here, bred here and have lived here for most of my life. But I had not experienced life as  a normal citizen. I had grown up in a privileged, sheltered environment, which was probably why I didn't realise that I was being very inconsiderate towards Fariha yesterday.

"It's okay, Hania. Don't worry, baby. See how much fun this is?" I kept my arm around my daughter, who was clearly terrified.

Fariha had grown up in a similar lifestyle as me, but she had adjusted so well in her new environment that it was admirable. A person should be used to living in all kinds of situations.

I wonder how I would have adjusted if Fawad wasn't a wealthy surgeon? 

I then thought of a day, a very time ago, when I was standing on the roof of his Dadi's house and had imagined a life there with him. I had seen myself as very happy, because I knew that as long as Fawad was the same loving and caring husband, I would happily adjust anywhere with him. 

However, it is easier said than done. I don't think I was as mature and sensible as Fariha had shown herself to be in this matter.

We had both grown up travelling around in first our parents' air conditioned cars, and then our brothers'. The difference was that I had continued with the lifestyle after marriage, but Fariha hadn't. Without looking down on her, I need to remember that and I need to be very considerate whenever we all went out the next time. Who knows what kind of drama I had caused in her marital life because of my thoughtlessness?

****

Fariha

"Please don't worry." I told Zafar as he got ready for work. "I promise that I will handle this carefully the next time." 

He had been too quiet since last night, and it made me feel absolutely awful.

"It's best if you do." He replied, without looking at me. "Because I really don't want to have our sons to get used to these luxurious gifts." Now, he turned to look at me. "I don't know about you, Fari, but I will only buy my family, my sons, things that I can reasonably afford. I can't go beyond my limits, because ultimately all the money I save up is for their better future anyway." 

"I know, I respect that." I grabbed his hands. "Trust me, Zafar. I have no complaints against this." 

"I've been up till Fajr, just thinking about these issues." He sighed. "I'm going to talk to Ahad and Fawad Bhai."

"No, Zafar, please. I told you, I'll handle it my way. Trust me, okay?" 

And then he snapped. "Yaar, what do they think? That you're some pitiful poor woman who needs their sympathy gifts?" 

I was taken aback by his behaviour. "They didn't mean that!"

 "I just can't get this thought out of my mind, Fari." He sounded frustrated. "I know I don't live in a bloody mansion, but I work hard to get this home running, as do you. You're on maternity at the moment, but don't I know how worn out you get between working at the clinic and handling the kids? Fari, we're in over our heads, but we do it for our family and because of our love for them! I don't want to be rewarded by being handed bangs full of toys and clothes from some bloody branded store!" 

His self-respect was hurt, and this was causing him a great deal of pain, otherwise he would never talk to me, or anyone like that. 

"I agree with you completely." I put my hand on his biceps, reassuringly. "But you're angry right now, and if you talk to Ahad or Bhai right now, you might say things that you don't mean. If you trust me, you will let me talk to Bhabi and Zoya at the right time." I looked in his eyes as I said that. 

"Okay, but talk to them today." He said, quietly. 

"Okay, I'll invite Bhabi and Zoya over." I replied. "I'll have a word with them today."

"Thank you,  Fariha. I'm sorry if you're getting hurt in this, but this is really important to me." 

"Don't apologise." I smiled. "I understand."

"If we don't stop this right now, one day our sons will start to feel like their parents can't give them a good enough lifestyle." He put his hands on my shoulders. 

"I don't want them to feel that either." I whispered. "I want them to be proud of us and our life together."

"In Sha Allah." He kissed my forehead. "I love you. I'll see you after work. Allah Hafiz."

"Allah Hafiz." I said, as he walked out. 

****

Zafar

Before work, I had to run some errands for my parents, and I had to go to the other side of the city for that, so I took my car.

As of yet, I had never complained about my lifestyle. I liked to say 'Alhumdulillah' for everything that I had. My parents had struggled hard to put me through a private school to give me the best education possible. I had always had old clothes, handed down to me from my older brother who was now basically non-existence in our lives. I'd always been laughed at by the other kids, especially when I turned up to school in a rickshaw, but none of it had bothered me...much. I had often cried a little each night in bed, and then then went to school the next day with new hopes and new expectations. 

Ahad, my best friend, was literally the only one who had never looked at my social class and had accepted me from the bottom of his heart. 

But ever since the time Omar had been called a thief by Sadia Bhabi, something had started bothering me. And I had a feeling that if Fari and I didn't do something soon, things were going to get much worse. 

As I was waiting at some traffic lights, I saw Fawad Bhai waiting by his car in the car parking of a  McDonalds, checking his phone and looking around.

He is mature and sensible. He will understand.

I turned the car at the last minute, receiving some horns from behind me, and then pulled up in the car parking beside my brother-in-law. "Assalam Alaikum, Fawad Bhai." I stepped out of the car.

"Walaikum Assalam." He looked surprised to see me.

"You here?" I looked around.

"I was waiting for Mina and Hania. They should have been here now." He shook his head. "I should have picked them up from there, but I just figured it would take less time this way." 

"Bhai, I think we should talk." I said, seriously.

He looked at me, and judging by his expressions, he seemed to know what I wanted to talk to him about.

****

How are things going to go between Zafar and Fawad?

Did Zafar do the right thing?

How will Fariha react to it?

Jasmina is starting to realise how truly privileged lifestyle. It is not wrong to be rich and wealthy, but it is very important to be considerate towards the others around you. Our behaviour should not make others feel bad about themselves, and Jasmina is slowly learning that.

Thoughts and comments?

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