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A FEW YEARS LATER

Fariha

"Mamma!" An annoyed voice said, as I stood in the kitchen, making lunch.

I turned and saw four-years-old Zaid in the doorway, pouting. "Kya hua, baby?"

*"What happened, baby?"

"Saad Bhai playing cricket. He said Zaid can't play!" He said, tears filling his eyes.

I smiled. "That's because you are smaller than him and his friends, and you will get hurt, angel. You can play with Ibrahim when we go to Ahad Chachu's house one day."

Zaid called Ahad 'Chachu', and nobody corrected him because it was true in a way. 

"Lets go, Mamma!" He walked forward and grabbed my dupatta, and tried to drag me out.

"I'm cooking, jaani. We can go tomorrow." I said. I had just returned from the clinic, but I had to make lunch today as Mahnoor was at school, where she was a qualified teacher now, and Ammi Jaan was now too unwell to do any housework. 

 "Zaid..." I said, before an idea occurred to me. "Omar, beta!" 

"Yes, Mamma." Thirteen-years-old Omar ran in almost immediately.

"Please play with Zaid." I said. "I have to cook, and Saad won't let him play cricket with him."

"Sure, Mamma." Omar gently coaxed Zaid into going with him, and then took him outside.

Our new home was beautiful and cosy, Ma Sha Allah. Ammi Jaan and Baba Jaan had their own bedroom on the ground floor, as it was not possible for them to climb stairs now. My room was upstairs, as well as Mahnoor's, Omar's and the room which Saad shared with Zaid. Omar was a teenager now, so Zafar himself had suggested that he got his own room. 

I have to be honest, I wasn't complaining but I missed our veranda. The only open space here was the car porch, just big enough to fit our car and Zafar's bike.

As I cooked palak chicken (spinach and chicken curry) with boiled rice, I thought about how beautiful my life was, Ma Sha Allah. My husband was so loving and considerate, but I was also proud of how hard and honestly he worked. A junior colleague of his had been promoted to a level above him, and proudly bragged that it was because of 'fishy business'. Who wants promotion on that basis? It's better to honestly remain on a lower position than to use dishonest means to get promoted.

"Bohat achi khusbhoo aarahi hai." Zafar's voice surprised me, making me jump.

*"It smells very nice."

"Assalam Alaikum." I said. "Palak chicken bana rahi hoon." 

*"I'm making spinach chicken curry."

"Walaikum Assalam, and I wasn't talking about the food." He came up behind me, putting his hands on my waist as he placed a discreet kiss on my neck.

"Zafar! The kids are around!" My hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail. 

"The kids are growing up, it doesn't matter." He now wrapped his arms around my waist, pressing closer. 

"Zafar..." I breathed out his name. 

We had faced a little bit of disappointment last year. We had decided that we wanted to try for a girl, but then I was told that I couldn't have any more children, after some complications that had occurred during Zaid's birth. The doctors hadn't realised it at that time, but when I went for further checks, it was determined that it wasn't possible. Zafar composed himself, and immediately said that he was nevertheless grateful for our three amazing boys. I had been faced with full disappointment and I had cried a lot.

But then, one day, I'd started crying on a video call to Bhabi, when she had called me to ask for a recipe. 

"Kyun pareshan ho rahi hain, Fariha? Hania aur Iman aapki betiyon ki tarhan hi hain na, jaise aapke betay Fawad aur mere beton ki tarhan hain." Bhabi had said, sweetly.

*"Why are you feeling disheartened, Fariha? Hania and Iman are like your daughters, just like your sons are like sons to me and Fawad." 

And now Dua, who had moved to Dubai with Kasim, where he worked at a high-tech security firm, was expecting her first child after almost four years of marriage, and it was a sweet baby girl, so Zafar was happy that he would have a daughter-like figure in the form of a niece as well, in addition to our Hania and Iman of course.

Suddenly we heard Saad screaming, followed by the sound of the gate slamming shut. 

I jumped away from Zafar, groaning. "What did he do now?" 

Turning off the stove, I headed outside with my husband. "Saad, what did you do, jaani?"

"We broke the neighbour's window!" Saad winced. "Mamma, the last time she slapped Faraz, so we ran away." 

"Saad, how many times have I told you not to play there?" I said. "There's a perfectly safe community park just behind our house. I've told you to go there." 

"Mamma, save me this time. I'll go to the park the next time." Saad ran upstairs towards the room he shared with Zaid.

There was that expecting banging on the door again, followed by Mrs Ashraf's nasal voice. "Mrs Zafar, how many times do I need to warn you about your son?" 

I exchanged an exhausted look with Zafar. Saad may have left his worrying behaviour behind, but he was still a cheeky boy. "Zafar, please talk to him!" I whispered in a low voice. "He can't keep doing this. I can't keep facing Mrs Ashraf!" 

Zafar nodded. "Don't worry, I'm on it." He turned and followed Saad upstairs, as I plastered a smile across my face to go and face the woman who seriously intimidated even me.

****

Ahad

"Alright, who's the guilty one?" The kids were lined up against the wall, stifling giggles, as I paced in front of them, back and forth, like a senior officer in the Army.

On one end was almost five-years-old Ibrahim, followed by his partner-in-crime, four-years-old Iman. Standing beside her were my little monkeys, three-years-old Noor and Bilal. And last, but not the least was two-years-old Armaan Arhaan Sheikh, who was already distracted by a little ant as he crouched down. 

Not included in this line-up were six-years-old Ismael and Hania, who were angels and were never involved in mischievousness, as well as two-months old Amara, who was currently being cradled by her loving Phupho Jasmina. 

Armaan and Amara were the beautiful kids of Arhaan Bhai and Nazia Bhabi, and were the babies of the family, beloved to all. Ma Sha Allah.

"Mamu, it was Iman who did it." Hania appeared by my side. Wearing a colourful frock, with her hair pushed back with a hairband, Hania was looking even more like Jasmina with each day.

"Appi!" Iman glared at her elder sister. 

"Good girl." I patted Hania's head. 

"I helped." Ibrahim offered, very helpfully. 

This case involved a cute little culprit taking two pieces of brownies from Bhabi's freshly made batch.  

"Papa, brownie!" Noor pouted at me. 

"Yes, Papa!" Bilal jumped up and down, looking like he was already hyped up on something sweet.

"You had some too!" Hania pointed out. "You all shared."

"HANIAAAAAA!" Ibrahim glared angrily at her.

"Naz Mumani made it after so much work." Sweet little Hania said. "You were not right to take the pieces without asking." 

Nazia Bhabi came in at that time. "Ahad Bhai, it's okay. Let these cheeky angels go. I made the brownies for them anyway. But yes, darlings, it's best to ask. If you had asked me, I would have happily given it to you." 

"Sorry, Mama." Ibrahim said, sadly. He had been too young when Sadia Bhabi had gone away to Canada, and therefore, he only knew Nazia Bhabi as 'Mama'. 

Sadia Bhabi was in Islamabad bad these days, the last I'd heard, happily living her life after her divorce with Arhaan Bhai two years ago. Bhai had gotten the full custody of the boys, with only brief visitation rights for Bhabi, which she hardly used.

"Sorry, Mumani." Iman added. 

I bent down in front of the troublemakers, Ibrahim and Iman. "I'm watching you two. Better stay on your best behaviour, you cheeky monkeys." I reached forward and tickled them, making them squeal.

"Brownies!" Noor screamed, running into the kitchen.

"Why does that remind me of Jazzy?" Bhai said as he entered the room with Jasmina, who still held Amara.

Jazzy was crazy about her nieces. She absolutely and completely adored them. She loved all of the kids, but she had a special aunt bond with Noor and Amara. Amara was too young, but Noor loved Jazzy just as much.

"Jazzy and her desserts." I grinned at my sister.

"Where's Ismael, Mamu?"  Hania asked Bhai.

"He's in his room reading a book, meri gudiya." Bhai told her.

Hania immediately head out, ready to see her best friend.

"Hani, don't run up the stairs!" Jazzy called out after her. 

You know how in American high school films and TV show, there are cliques? Well, the kids of our family seemed to have cliques of their own. Ismael and Hania, the older ones, were the shy and quiet types, who were happy just playing or reading together. Next were Ibrahim and Iman, the biggest troublemakers. While Hani Jaani and Mr Smile resembled their fathers in their current stage, Iman and Ibrahim were like how Bhai and Fawad Bhai used to be. My Noor and Bilal were slowly adjusting themselves to be a part of Iman and Ibrahim's team, and they seemed to be succeeded. After all, bachay kiske hain? Armaan, right now, was currently just discovering the world, but I had a suspicious feelings that Team Trouble would drag him into their naughty gang. That would leave Amara, but there was still time to determine their positions.

*After all, whose kids are they?

I held out my arms for Amara, and Jazzy handed her over to me. "Assalam Alaikum, Chachu ki shehzadi."

*"Chachu's princess."

Amara was asleep, with her tiny fist curled over her blankie. She was like a little doll, Ma Sha Allah. No wonder Jazzy didn't want to put her down.

However, seeing her Phupho paying attention to the only other Sheikh family girl child, Noor pouted and rushed over. "Phupho! Play!" 

"Okay, meri jaan. Let's go." Jasmina took Noor's little hand and the two headed up to the kids' nursery. 

Bhai took a seat on the sofa, and Bhabi came back in to offer him food or tea. 

I looked around the room at the kids playing around and smiled. The Sheikh family home seemed lively again, Ma Sha Allah.

****

That night, Noor and Bilal were creating a chaos in our bedroom, reminding me of the storm that had hit the shores of Karachi the very day the twins arrived in this world.

"Noor, Bilal!" Zoya was exhausted. After a long day of work, she wanted to just lie in bed, but the twins got excited to spend family time. They had their own room, but they preferred to sleep with us.

It was funny. People had expected Zo to be the strict parent, but I was also as strict at times. I didn't want Noor or Bilal to ever head down the same dark path as me, and I was going to do everything to ensure that.

"Come here, meri zindagi ka Noor." I grabbed my daughter in my arms, causing her to squeal.

*"The light of my life." Noor means light.

Noor's name was dedicated to her Nano's name, which was Asifa Noor Hamid. Bilal's name was Ammi's choice. 

"Mama!" Bilal held out his arms towards Zo, also wanting a hug like the one I was giving Noor right now.

Zo melted immediately and took our little boy into her arms. "You two are so naughty, but Papa and I love you both so, so much!"

"This much?" Noor held out her arms as I set her back down onto the bed. 

"So much that I can't even tell you." Zo kissed Bilal's cheek, before leaning down to kiss Noor's cheek as well. "My babies, my loves." 

Zo and I had decided that one boy and one girl was perfect for us, and trust me, our beloved twins were handful enough. If Allah gave us more children, it was a different matter, but we felt like our family was complete now, and we were not going to try for any more kids.

"Okay, bed time, buddies. Mama and Papa need to talk." I lifted Bilal in one arm and Noor in the other. "Say good night to Mama." 

"Night, Mama!" They both waved to her as I took them out of our room, and towards the twins' bedroom.

The good thing about my children is that they don't fuss once they're in their beds. They wear themselves out so much during the day that the moment their heads hit their respective pillows, they fall asleep. I watch them slow transfer into Dreamland, before I left the room. 

Zo was sitting on the bed, and as I closed the door, she pulled off her silk robe, revealing her silk camisole. 

I pulled my own shirt off, hung it behind the door and headed over to get into bed beside her. "How was your day?"

"Very tiring. My head is spinning from looking at paperwork all day." She yawned, sliding down to lie under the duvet beside me. "How was yours?" 

"As always, an adventure. The kids are too much, but they are the life of the family, Ma Sha Allah. All of them together create chaos in the house." 

She reached out and placed a hand on my cheek. "I love our Bilal and Noor. They are two large pieces of my heart." 

"I agree. After thinking that we'd never be parents, Allah blessed us with them. Alhumdulillah."

"Alhumdulillah." 

"Our life really is complete, Ahad." She smiled sleepily. "Ahad and Zoya, the fun-loving and adventurous couple are now parents to two naughty little angels. We have to grow up now, jaaneman." She snuggled up in my arms. 

I kissed her forehead. "We grew up the moment Noor arrived in the world." 

When Noor was born, it was almost a dramatic moment, as I had felt my entire world change. And when Bilal had followed, I had been almost in shock, unable to believe that I was a father to not just one, but two little humans within the course of eight minutes.

My perfect family was happy and complete, my parents were happy, as were my siblings in their respective married lives. Alhumdulillah a thousand times.

****

Arhaan

I am amazed each time I witness Nazia being a mother. It was natural with Amara and Armaan, of course, but when she was being just as maternal to Ismael and Ibrahim, it warmed my heart on a whole new level.

Currently, my two older boys were having a sleepover with Hania and Iman. The four kids were in sleeping bags on the floor of my Ismael and Ibrahim's room. We had spread out mattresses to make everything comfortable for them.

Of course, Nazia and Jazzy had sat beside them until they had fallen asleep, otherwise the kids would have had created chaos long into the night, especially Ibrahim and Iman. 

"Look, Bhai," Fawad had told me earlier. "Don't get offended, but this is probably the last year that I'm allowing this. The girls, especially Hania, is growing up. Next year she'll be seven, In Sha Allah, and will officially start learning her Islamic duties, and I don't think we should continue this then."

"I undersand, Bhai. Don't worry." I had reassured him.

At the end of the day, Ismael and Ibrahim were non-mehrams to Hania and Iman, and because I considered the girls like my own daughters, I completely understood and respected Fawad's decision. We had our religion and our culture that we must respect. I would totally place the same rules for Amara when she was old enough, In Sha Allah.

Nazia, at present, had just finished feeding Amara, while Armaan was already fast asleep in his cot. Both Amara and Armaan slept in our room right now, in their respective cots. We'd tried to get Armaan to sleep in his own room, but he had been frightened and had refused. 

My second wife had fitted so well in our lives, Ma Sha Allah, that I felt like I'd known her for decades, rather than just over four years. She loved my family like her own, and there had never been an issue with her or any of my family members. 

"Thank you." I whispered to Nazia as she cleaned our daughter's mouth. I sat up and held my arms out so that I could burp our baby girl. Placing her spit-up towel onto my shoulder, I held Amara against my shoulder, gently rubbing her back until I heard a tiny burp in my ear. "Good girl." I still kept rubbing her back, in case she still wasn't done. The last time we had lay her down after a single burp, she had thrown up the milk she had been fed.

Amara had arrived late, and by the end of the pregnancy, Nazia had been constantly crying with discomfort. It had been an absolute nightmare for her, and it was made worse by the worry that something was wrong with her baby. Her gynaecologist and midwife had both reassured her, but she had been very distressed, despite her profession. I couldn't even imagine how she must have been feeling then, so I did my best to do whatever I could to make her happy and comfortable.

But now, Amara was our princess, and looking at her, Nazia seemed to have forgotten those days. Amara was to a great extent like me, with naturally tanned skin and the same nose shape, but her eyes were like her mother's.  

"Thank you for what?" Nazia looked confused.

"For bringing peace and happiness and love back into my life." 

"A good person with good intentions deserves everything good, Arhaan." She put her hand on my arm. "And, in my opinion, you are one of the best ones." 

I leaned down and kissed her, even as I held our baby girl. It was a pure, sweet and intimate moment, and I wouldn't give it up for anything in the world.

****

Jasmina

After a few nights of being at my parents' house, I was back in my Sasural with my daughters. 

My parents-in-law were delighted to have their little darlings back, and were spending as much time with them as possible. With Papa now retired, both of them were making the most of our stay here in Lahore.

You know what the funny thing was? Fawad and I barely got any attention. It was all about Hania and Iman. 

Hania was the apple of her Dado's eyes, her ladli. Whereas, Iman was closer to her Dada Jaan. In my side of the family, Hani was closer to her Nana Jaan, but were both close to their Nano. They were also both close to their Mamus, but Iman was just a little bit closer to Fariha, and whenever her Phupho was around, she barely left her side. 

When it came to me and Fawad, they were both utterly and completely Papa's Girls, but, Hania was also very attached to me. She turned to me for everything, and loved hanging out with me, even while I was doing housework. We both tended to create stories together, while Mani preferred to hang out with her Papa and play doctors with him. She was four, but she already had decided that she wanted to be a doctor like Papa.

"Good Morning." I grinned.

I had arrived home with the girls early in the morning, dropped off by the family driver. I hadn't told Fawad because I wanted to surprise him.

Now, when he came out of the bathroom, freshly showered but still looking sleepy, he saw me sat on the bed, with my right leg resting over my left one. 

"Mina? What are you doing here?" 

I stood up and walked over to him. "Mera ghar hai, mera sasural hai. Is ghar ki akloti bahu hoon main. Aur, sab se zayada zaroori baat, mere shohar yaahan hain."

*"This is my home, my in-laws' place. I'm the only daughter-in-law of this family. And, most importantly, my husband is here." 

I loved coming back to Lahore and being around everyone. In London, it was too lonely, especially when my man was at work. 

He put his hands on my waist and grinned. "Thirty one ki ho gayi ho, Ma Sha Allah. Ab to dramay band kardo, jaan."

*"You're thirty one, Ma Sha Allah. Now end your dramas, jaan."

"Not gonna happen. Accept me for who I am, or..." 

"Or what?" He raised an eyebrow. "You'll leave me?" 

"I'll only leave you when I die."  I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Mina." His jaw clenched. 

I realised that I'd made a blunder, and to make up for it, I leaned up on my tiptoes and kissed him softly on his lips. God, I love this toothpaste. Oh, Allah! Mina, you're so random! Why do I always get random thoughts while we kiss?

We heard a small gasp, and I pulled back immediately and turned to see Hania standing in the doorway, wide eyed, with a hand over her mouth. 

"Aapki aadat nahin gayi na, Mama aur Papa ke beech main aanay ki?" Fawad grinned, crouching down and holding out his arms. "Come here, Papa ki jaan." 

*"Your habit of interrupting your parents hasn't gone away, has it?" 

Hania rushed over and threw herself in his arms. "Papa, I missed you."

"I missed you too, Hani." He stood up, holding her in his arms.

I was just standing there, blushing. The last time, Iman had caught us kissing, and she had innocently blurted it out in front of my parents-in-law. What's worse was the question she'd asked them: Dado, do you kiss Dada Jaan like Mama kisses Papa?"

"Sorry, Mama says I should knock, but I..." Hania whispered.

"It's okay, the door was open. But yes, the general rule is that you knock before you enter someone else's room." He told her. 

"Hania, please don't talk about this to anyone, okay, jaan?" I was feeling absolutely mortified, imagining facing my parents-in-law after an awkward topic like this again.

"It's not nice to talk about people, Mama." Hania told me, sensibly. "I won't do it." 

"Definitely mere pe gayi hai." Fawad winked at me.

*"She's definitely gone after me." 

"Jo mainsikha rahi hoon, wohi sikh rahi hai." I shot back.

*"She's only learning what I'm teaching her."

"PAPAAAA!" Iman's scream made us turn to the doorway again, and our younger daughter came running in, making a beeline for her father. 

He leaned down and picked her up as well. "Assalam Alaikum, Mani. In fact, Hania, that should be the first thing we say when we see each other." 

"Walaikum Assalam." Hania immediately replied.

"Wa'ikum Assalam." Iman still had trouble saying it. "Papa, we had fun!"

He sat down on the bed, and the girls immediately began to tell him about their stay at their Naniyal. They were giggling more than they were talking, and Fawad was constantly smiling in amusement.

"Nashta?" I asked him.

*"Breakfast?"

"Puri channay mongwate hain. Aaj classic khayain ge hum." He smiled up at me now.

*"We'll order puri channay. We'll eat classic today."

He had one arm wrapped around each girl's shoulders, and as I sat down on Mani's other side, he lifted her up onto his lap, and wrapped his arm around me instead. "I love you three so, so much." 

"We love you too, Papa." Hania replied, immediately. 

"I love you too, Papa." Iman snuggled up against him.

"The word love is not enough to describe how I feel about you, Fawad Ali." I whispered. "Meri jaan hain aap, mere dil ki dhadkan." 

*"You are my life, my heartbeat." 

Our gazes locked, as Hania and Iman spoke Elsa and Anna dialogues from Frozen, completely ignoring us now.

"We're meant to be." I said to my husband. "We belong together."

****

And so concludes the story of this generation.

The little sweetheart Hania will take over the female lead role now. Growing up in the shadow of her parents, especially her mother, Hania is a sweet and shy girl, but what happens when she has to face the harsh realities of life?

'Belong Together' is now published. You can find it on my profile.

Thank you all so much! I'm now going to try and add FOL vibes into Belong Together. 

Unfortunately, Sadia's marriage to Arhaan had to end. This is one thing that I always remained certain about. She was just not the right person for him. 

Thoughts and comments?

Thank you for reading the FOL series. I think this is the best way to conclude Fawad and Mina's story as the lead couple. This story did make me love writing about the other couples as well, and I genuinely enjoyed it. I especially enjoyed writing about Zafar and Fariha, as their lifestyle was different from the others, yet they still remained completely happy together. Credit goes to Fariha here as well, for her ability to adapt and adjust well.

The LSF gang will appear in BT as well, but the next generation will be the focus now. However, Hania and Iman's story will heavily revolve on family, and how they were raised, so naturally, expect to see Fawad and Mina more than the others. 

Please don't forget to vote! 

****

P.S. I legit didn't intend to write an epilogue this long, but I thought to give everyone at least one scene each.