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*

Ahad

"What did he do, Jasmina?" I repeated.

"He didn't do anything." She replied, sharply. "I...I feel trapped inside my own head, and I just want to be around Ammi and Papa, and you all. Bhai, I want to come to Lahore. I'm so sick and tired of being here. Why am I feeling like this? I'm at home."

"Jazzy, I can't even begin to imagine what you are going through, because I will never actually give birth. But as a doctor, I understand the effects of childbirth, and it's not just physical. You need to cut your mind a break, and think that it is just recovering from Iman's birth, which is why you are feeling the way that you are." I gently spoke to her.

Zoya nodded thoughtfully, as if she was a part of the conversation. Clearly, despite her anger, she was agreeing with my words.

"Where's Fawad Bhai?" I immediately felt guilty for automatically assuming his guilt.

"He has just taken Hania and Iman for a drive. Hania was insisting and he figured he would take Iman along. I didn't want to go."

"Listen to your brother's advice, okay? Next time, go along with them. Spending time with them will keep you distracted from idle thoughts, and would cheer you up as well."

"I feel so sad, Bhai."

"I know you do," I paced my bedroom thoughtfully. "But remind yourself how much Allah has blessed you, okay? He gave you a loving husband, two beautiful and adorable girls. Ma Sha Allah." Witnessing Zafar say goodbye to his younger sister as a bride, I was once again reminded of how much I cherished and valued my little sister. "In Sha Allah, you will be fine, beta. Like the body needs time to heal after childbirth, so does the mind. People tend to forget that."

The term 'beta' was usually reserved for adults to use for the younger generation, but Arhaan Bhai had called her that as long as I could remember. And now, when I was feeling like a totally overprotective big brother, I found myself calling her that as well.

I refused to let Aliya's words negatively affect me.

Zoya was smiling at me, almost proudly.

"Okay, Bhai. Thank you. Sorry for worrying you."

"Don't be silly. Kabhi jhijhak na nahin, mera paas aane se agar koi pareshani ho, okay?"

*"Never hesitate to come to me if you're worried, okay?"

"Okay, Bhai." She sniffed. "Tell Zoya Bhabi to send me the photos of the dresses everyone wore today."

I smiled. "I will. Allah Hafiz, Jazzy."

"Allah Hafiz, Bhai."

I hung up and saw Zoya staring at me like I was a celebrity or something. "What?"

She walked over to me, pressed her hands against my chest and began to gently push me backwards towards the bed until I was sitting down. She straddled my lap, sliding her hands up the side of my face and through my hair. "I was going to stay mad at you, but your behaviour just now reminded me of the person you have become. I'm not going to unnecessarily stay mad at you." 

I sighed. "It wasn't unnecessarily, Zo. I would have been mad as well, if the roles were reversed."

"Except for the fact that I don't have an ex. You're my first and only." She winked at me, before leaning forward to nibble at my earlobe. "And my Allah knows how grateful I am for that." 

"You were a former celebrity. Don't all celebrities have flings?" I wasn't doubting her, I was genuinely curious. These days celebrities made dating look halal and acceptable, and were wrongly influencing the youth of our culture. 

"You know," She looked at me, her hands clasped together behind my neck. "I once heard a famous actress say that religion and acting should not mix." She wrinkled her nose. "I don't believe that. I believe that religion is above everything else, and it should come firsts. Of course, if other people have different opinions, I absolutely respect that because it's their business, not mine." She kissed my forehead. "I didn't want you to speak to Aliya, but you did. I'm going to overlook it because I trust you completely, but please, Ahad. For my sake, close this chapter once and for all. No more contact with her or her Wicked Witch sister." 

"I promise." I nodded. "When I thought I almost lost you today, I realised that I cherish nothing more than our marriage, and nothing is worth destroying it." 

She smiled, but it was soon replaced by a concerned smile. "Is Jasmina okay?" 

"I think it's much harder for her after Iman's birth, than it was after Hania's birth." 

"I'll message her." She said. "Maybe talking to friends will help right now." 

"You want my advice?" I asked.

She nodded.

"Leave it. I've spoken to her for now, so let's leave it at that." I suggested. "I know you guys are friends, and I'm really proud of that, but you are her Bhabi at the end of the day, so maybe if you speak to her about this, she might feel awkward. If she approaches you herself, by all means, talk to her for hours if you want. But right now, give her a chance to focus on what I've told her. Let's call it self-therapy. Don't be offended, this is how I feel." 

"No, you're absolutely right." She nodded, thoughtfully. 

"I'm a doctor, and yes, I do believe in therapy." I continued. "But I'm a Muslim, and I believe that in despair and depression, there's no better way to come out of darkness than to turn to Allah. I am speaking from experience, Zo. The peace I've felt after praying in my darkest times is unbelievable." 

"And we're there for her if we need it, because Allah has also provided family to support each other in difficult times." 

"Exactly." I nodded.

She looked at me adoringly. "Maybe Arhaan Bhai has finally influenced you with his wisdom, after three decades of trying, Ma Sha Allah." 

"You're not funny." I muttered, sarcastically.

"I'm funnier than you." She narrowed her eyes.

We continued fake-glaring at each other until we both burst out laughing.

We were one immature couple.

****

Zafar

"Yeh kya kar rahi ho?" My voice came out harsher than I'd intended.

*"What are you doing?"

I had been heading to the kitchen to get some water, when I'd seen Mahnoor sitting in the veranda, on her phone. I didn't know social media well because I stayed away from it, but I recognised that sound very well: the ping made by an app when you uploaded an photo. Fariha often uploaded photos of food she had cooked. As a policeman, I always noticed the smallest of details. "Photo upload kar rahi ho?"

*"Are you uploading a photo?"

"Ji, Bhai. Shaadi ki photos laga rahi hoon." She looked at me, wide eyed.

*"Yes, Bhai. I'm uploading the wedding photos."

"Why?" I frowned. 

"My friends wanted to see." She said, innocently.

"Dekho, Mahnoor, unse milke dekha dena unhain photos, agar itna hi shauk hai." I sat down beside her. "Social media pe har kism ke log dekhte hain, un saaron ki niyat achi nahin hoti. Nazar aise hi lagti hai. Humain waise bhi apni khushiyon ka dikhawa nahin karna chahiye kyunke nazar lag jati hai. Aur cyber crime bhi bohat badh gaya hai. Log hack karke photos le laitay hain aur phir unka ghalat istamal karte hain."

 *"Look, Mahnoor, meet up with them and show them, if you want."
"Social media has all kinds of people, and not everyone has good intentions. You get affected by evil eye. We should not display our happiness anyway because of evil eye. And cyber crime has increased a lot. People hack into accounts and take photos and use them in a wrong way." 

An evil eye, as I have mentioned above, is a concept in Islam. There are special duas for preventions, but nevertheless, it is advised not to upload photos on social media, or to announce happiness (marriage, pregnancy, new home, etc) on social media because we don't know the intentions of other people. They might not even know it, but subconsciously looking at other people's happiness and feeling bad about it might cause Nazar to them. 

"Sorry, Bhai. I'll remove them." Mahnoor nodded.

"Mahnoor, I know it's tempting. But for us, our priority should be our family's safety and well being. You don't want to upload these photos at the cost of causing harm to any of us through Nazar, right?" 

She shook her head. "But then why take photos in the first place?" 

"That's a good point." I agreed. "But people do it as a memory of a special event, to keep within the family and to pass it on down to their next generations. It doesn't mean that it's right, but these photos are meant to be for loved ones to cherish for years to come. Ammi Jaan and Baba Jaan wanted it ,as well as Kasim's family. But social media has various dangers, additionally to Nazar. Take my advice as a big brother, okay?" 

"I will, Bhai. I understand." 

I patted her head. "Good." 

I stood up to go. 

Mahnoor looked up at me. "May Allah keep our Dua safe from evil eye. May Allah keep all of us safe. Ameen."

"Ameen." I headed to the kitchen to get some water. I knew Mahnoor would listen to me. She was kind of a rebel, compared to Dua, but she would never want anything bad to happening to any of us. 

****

"Ammi Jaan batateen hai ke jab unki shaadi hui hai, donon khandanon main pehli love marriage thi." I was telling Fariha in bed that night. She was snuggled up against me, resting her head on my chest. "Woh kehti theen ke un donon main itna pyar tha ke log unhain tanz dete thay. Mere dadiyal main mana jaata tha ke biwi sirf ghar ke kaamon ke liye aur bachay paida karne ke liye hoti hai. Yeh pyar ka concept unke saron se upar ghuzar jaata tha."

*"Ammi Jaan told us that when she got married, it was the first love marriage in both families."
"She said that there was so much love between her and Baba Jaan that people taunted them for it. In my paternal grandparents side of the family, it was believed that a wife was just for housework and to give birth to kids. The concept of love went over their heads."

Fariha listened quietly, but she was tracing her finger over my chest, so I knew that she was awake. 

"Unki pehli anniversary pe, jab Taimoor paida hone wala tha, woh donon ghomne gaye thay Baba Jaan ki motorcycle par. Jaane se pehle, sab keh rahe thay ke Ammi Jaan bohat pyari lag rahi hain, aur unhe aise bahar nahin jaana chahiye. Baba Jaan nahin maane. Unhon ne Ammi Jaan par hifazat ki dua phonki, aur bahir chalay gaye. Waapsi main, unka accident ho gaya, bohat bura. Baba Jaan ki tang aur baazo toot gaye, aur woh chay din tak behosh rahe. Ammi Jaan ko sirf scratches padhay, warna Alhumdulillah, woh bilkul theek theen."

*"On their first anniversary, when Ammi Jaan was pregnant with Taimoor, they both went out on Baba Jaan's motorcycle. Before they left, everyone was saying that Ammi Jaan looked lovely and that she shouldn't go out like that.  Baba Jaan didn't listen. He blew protection duas over her, and they both left. On their way back, they got into a very bad accident. Baba Jaan broke his leg and an arm, and he remained unconscious for six days. Ammi Jaan only got some scratches, otherwise Alhumdulillah, she was perfectly okay." 

"Ammi Jaan kehti hain ke unhe laga ke nazar lag gayi thi, aur tab se woh bohat darti hain is se." I finished the story.

"Ammi Jaan says that she feels that they were affected by an evil eye, and since then she is very scared of it." 

Fariha looked up at me. "Nazar se to mujhe bhi bohat dar lagta hai." 

*"Even I'm scared of evil eye a lot." 

"Aapko yaad hai, jab Zaid paida hone wala tha, Ammi Jaan kitni protective ho gayi theen mujhe le kar?" Fariha smiled, fondly. "Main irritate ho jati thi, laikin woh kabhi bura nahin manin."

*"Do you remember, when I was pregnant with Zaid, Ammi Jaan got so protective of me?"
"I used to get irritated, but she never felt bad about that."

I nodded. "Yeah, she rarely let you go out because she was worried that people were going to see your baby bump. And when you left for work, she used to recite duas all over you, repeatedly. I told you. It scares her." 

"Yeh nazar ka concept shayad hai hi isi liye take hum har cheez soch samajh ke karain, aur hamare dikhaway se kisi ko takleef na ho. Hum jitna openly apni khushi zahir karte hain, kisi na kisi ko bura lagta hai, chahye unintentionally hi sahi. Allah shayad yehi chahta hai ke hum apni khush dosron ko takleef diye baghair hi celebrate karain." Fariha said, thoughtfully.

*"The concept of evil eye possibly exists so that we think before we do everything, and nobody is pained when we show off our happiness. The more openly we express our happiness, someone will feel bad, even unintentionally. Allah maybe wants us to celebrate our happiness without causing pain/hurt to others."

"Consideration is an important concept in Islam." I agreed. "Allah ne sab ke naseeb main alag alag khushi likhi hui hai, laikin hum insaan hai, aur jo cheez humare paas nahin hoti, hum uski khwahish main dusroon se jealous hote hain, yeh inferior feel karte hain."

*"Allah has written different happiness in everyone's destiny, but we are humans, and for the things we don't have, we feel jealous and inferior towards others while wishing for it." 

Fariha nodded. "Ammi always said the same thing. That's why she and Papa always carefully chose how to celebrate mine and Bhai's achievements." She looked at me again. "Mahnoor is young, and at a very impressionable age. Maybe in my time, social media wasn't the factor, but I know how it feels to be tempted towards the wrong path. I know, that if social media existed back then, I would have been uploading pics as well, because all my friends would have been doing that too." 

"I hope my words got to her though." 

"Aapki behan hai. Samajdari aap teenon ke khoon main hai." She smiled.

*"She's your sister. Wisdom/Maturity is in your blood, all three of you. "

I nodded. 

She leaned up and kissed me. For a while, we just remained in each other's arms, kissing each other. 

And then my phone rang. 

Frowning, I pulled away from Fariha, reaching for the phone. It was past midnight. Who could be calling at this time?  My frown deepened as I saw the name on the screen. "Kasim?" 

Fariha's eyes widened with shock and she sat up. "Why is he calling right now?" 

"Assalam Alaikum, Kasim." I answered the phone. "Everything okay?"

"Walaikum Assalam, Bhai." Kasim sounded upset. "We're taking Dua to the hospital. She initially wouldn't stop throwing up, and then she lost consciousness." 

"What?!" My voice rose.

****

Fariha

We decided not to worry Ammi Jaan and Baba Jaan, and Zafar left for the hospital. 

"Kya hua hai? Kahan gaya hai Zafar is waqt?" Ammi Jaan came out of the room, looking worried.

*"What happened? Where did Zafar go at this time?"

"Ammi Jaan..." I had no idea how to answer that, so I decided that I would gently tell her the truth. "Please have a seat." I grabbed her arm lightly, and led her to a charpai.

"What happened?" Her face paled with anxiety.

"Ammi, Dua has been taken to the hospital. She was throwing up and she fainted." I told her, holding her hand. "It might be a result of food poisoning, mixed with the nerves and anxiety of the wedding. Zafar's gone to the hospital, and he'll keep us updated." 

"Meri bachi!" Naturally, Ammi Jaan started crying. I didn't blame her. She was her mother, and she had just sent her daughter off as a bride a few hours earlier, only to hear this news. "Allah, kis ki nazar lag gayi hai meri gudiya ko?" 

*"My daughter!"
"Allah, whose evil eye has affected my doll?" 

My skin felt cold and I froze. Taimoor Bhai's badua. I shook my head. No. Right now, I need to reassure my mother-in-law. "Dekhain, Ammi Jaan. Allah hifazat kare ga humari Dua ki. Jiski Allah hifazat karta hai, usko koi kuch nahin kar sakta, na kisi ki buri neeyat. Laikin, insaan hain, to choti moti takleefain to aati jaati rehti hain. Bus, Allah badi takleefon se bachaye."

*"Look, Ammi Jaan. Allah will protect our Dua. Those who are protected by Allah cannot not be harmed by anyone, or even any bad intentions. But we are humans, and these minor illnesses happen. May Allah protect us from the more serious problems."

"This is not a small issue, Fariha. Dua got sick on her wedding night!" Her eyes were filled with the unsaid words, 'What will people think?'.

"Nothing will happen, Ammi Jaan. Kasim and his family are very sensible. They won't make a big deal out of this, In Sha Allah." 

"Meri bachi." Ammi Jaan kept repeating, burying her face in her dupatta. 

I'm a mother, so I understood her worries completely. And the idea that Taimoor gave Dua a badua, and then this happened, was really bothering me. 

A chilly breeze suddenly lifted up my hair and I glanced around, feeling surprisingly frightened. All this talk of evil eye had made me paranoid. 

I helped Ammi Jaan into the room, reassuring her that I would update her on Dua's condition as soon as I knew something. 

Immediately after, I went to grab my phone and began to play verses of the Quran in the veranda. The soothing words in Arabic made me smile. 

The concept of good and evil was basically the same, no matter what religion. Evil and wickedness is powerless against the good. Shaiytan was powerless in front of Allah. 

We'll be fine. Dua will be fine. In Sha Allah.

****

Ahad

It was after Fajr that I read Zafar's message.

"Dua's in the hospital?" I frowned. 

"Wait, what?" Zoya looked shocked.

"She's being kept there. She's suffering from severe food poisoning." I looked at my wife as she folded up her prayer mat. "I'm going to go. Zaf's there, I'll meet up with him and see if he needs me in any way."

She nodded understandingly. "Keep me updated. I'll speak to Fariha in the meantime." She shook her head. "Bechari ki shaadi thi kal raat. Yeh kya hogaya hai?" 

*"It was the poor girl's wedding last night. What has happened?"

She unfolded the prayer mat and spread it out again. "I'm going to make special dua for her."

"I'm going." I grabbed my motorcycle keys and headed out.

I scrolled through my phone as I headed downstairs, and saw a few of my friends had tagged me in photos from the wedding last night, mostly group photos of me and Zaf with our friends. Zafar was probably going to throw a fit if he saw this. He hated his photos being on social media. Well, I didn't do it usually either, but if someone tagged me, I didn't care.

I rode towards the hospital, the warm breeze making my clothes flutter. The faint light announcing the rising of the sun was creating beautiful colours on the horizon. Lahore was about to wake up for yet another busy and hectic day. 

There was light traffic even at this time, and a lot of pedestrians, as people headed back home after praying Fajr at various mosques. Fajr was such a peaceful time, and to think that once upon a time, I used to sleep through it. 

A kid suddenly ran out into the road, crossing the road to get to someone he knew. I braked hard, jerking with the movement. My heart pounded hard in my chest and I clutched the handles tightly, my knuckles turning white. Ya Allah.

And the funny thing was that his parent/guardian glared at me, like I was in the wrong.

The old me would have said a few words to the parent/guardian, but now I just rode off, calming myself down.

I came to a busy junction, stopping at traffic lights. My phone pinged and I looked at it to see a notification from a friend commenting on the photo I was tagged in. Shaking my head, I slid my phone back into the pocket and glanced towards the red light.

As the light turned green, I sped forward. 

However, an idiot ignored the red light from their side, and ran it anyway, and the next thing I knew, another bike had smashed into me at full speed, throwing me of my bike and hard onto the ground. I didn't need to be a doctor to know that had it not been for the helmet, I would have died on impact. 

However, the aches and pains in my body made me feel like I was going to die anyway.

"La Ilaha Illallah Muhammad Ur Rasool Allah." I whispered as my eyes closed.

*This is what Muslims hope to recite right before death. 

****

Zoya

I went down to the kitchen to make some coffee, as I was unable to sleep, and saw Sadia Bhabi in there, cradling Ibrahim. "Assalam Alaikum." I said, respectfully.

"Walaikum Assalam." She didn't even look at me. 

Not that I care.

"Ibrahim, people think that they can be happy by making others unhappy." She whispered to her baby.

What the eff? Why would you whisper that to a baby? Ammi always says to say good things in front of kids and babies!

She walked out of the kitchen, and I rolled my eyes. 

Ignore her, she's irrelevant. My inner voice told me as I grabbed my mug.

Ahad and I had our own matching mugs. His said, 'Mr Right', and mine said 'Mrs Always Right'. I smiled. Everything about me and Ahad just had to be different from the others.

I closed my eyes and thought about my s*xy, attractive bad boy. His wink, his smirk made me feel desires that are only best expressed in a bedroom. But what really attracted me the most was how much he had changed from how he used to be. A man capable of repentance is a man capable of greatness.

I could proudly say that I couldn't live without him. He was my lifeline and I depended on him. No matter how strong and confident I was, I can openly admit that I needed him. 

I made my coffee and took it upstairs, along with a packet of biscuits. As I settled in bed and turned on the plasma TV, my phone rang, and I glanced towards it.

I could see Ahad's name on the screen. He must be calling me to update me about Dua's condition.

I reached forward and grabbed my phone. "Hello?"

****

Jasmina

I had never uploaded my own photos on social media. I never felt comfortable. 

So I had no idea why I uploaded a photo of Hania holding Iman. It was funny because a day after I had uploaded it, Fawad and I had a random conversation about people uploading their kids' photos on social media.

"Why would people want to do that?" He had frowned. "I know that not everyone believes in nazar, but there are other dangers as well." 

"I uploaded a photo of Hania and Iman." I had said, casually. "It was a cute photo."

"That's all the more reason not to upload it!" He had looked at me like I had lost my mind. "Look, Mina, I hardly stop you from doing anything, but as Hania and Iman's father, I am going to put my foot down and ask you not to put our daughters' photos on social media. I can only advise you not to ever put your own either, but with Hania and Iman, it's a strict no."

I'd taken it off, and I'd questioned whether I was a good mother or not.

But I guess it just takes a moment...

In the middle of the night, I got up to go to the bathroom. Once I was done, I checked on Iman first, who slept in the cot in our bedroom. She was peacefully sleeping, wrapped in her yellow blanket.  As per routine, I then headed across the hall to Hania's nursery. We kept both doors open, so that we'd hear Hania if she needed us. 

In the dim night light, I saw her lying in the cot, and I smiled. "Meri jaan." I reached out to pull her blanket over her, but something felt wrong. "Hania?" I reached forward to touch her skin and it felt like ice. "HANIA!" I held a finger under Hania's nose and my heart almost stopped. I turned to shout over my shoulder, "FAWAD! HANIA'S NOT BREATHING!"

****

Okay, I realise that everything bad happened in this chapter, but as I mentioned in the previous chapter, this was meant to be an informative one. We believe in the concept of evil eyes, but there are ways to prevent it.

Be considerate of how you express your happiness, for the sake of the others as well as your own. 

Will Ahad, Dua and Hania be okay? ***Ignore Belong Together, I'm changing it ;)***

Thoughts and comments?

Thanks for reading and don't forget to vote!

P.S. I know that my writing is going downhill, but writing block is awful. I hate it, but it happens. I just need to attempt to get over it by continue writing...