Story copyright MehweenGR. Picture credits to its rightful owners.

Islam is perfect, muslims are not.

.....

Hatim

I didnt get to meet Ifrah again in seclusion not even at farawell. However I squeezed her hand before I got up to follow out with my family. Ifrah than looked up at me and softly said,

" Please take care of yourself". Her face mirroring my physical pain.

Right now I was standing in que at medical store. After reaching home post Nikah event, my dad insisted that I go and see emergency doctor in hospital. Although I am grown up and now even almost married, my father for his own satisfaction came along with me, also saying that he'd get to spend some time with me. As we were sitting in waiting room, seeing my exhausted and pain striken face, my father ruffled my hair in public and placed my head against his frail shoulders, than spoke in our mother tongue:

"Take care of yourself, now you dont just live for yourself and us but also for HER. You are married now. You know a wife gets very worried even when something very small happens to her husband. Its another way of expressing her love. I used to be careless about my health too, until your mother told me one day how much it effects her when I am unwell".

(A/N: I obviously dont know how to speak their regional language, which isnt even so important, since the story concept is not about a paticular community. You can imagine any pakistani community)

Glancing at my watch I realised that it was a little too late to take out my wife for our first dinner as nikahfied couple. Yet I wanted to see her on our nikah night. I dialled her number which my sister Inayah gave me after we reached home from Nikah.

On second ring she received my call but didnt seem to recognise my voice. I didnt blame her, we had never spoken on phone even. I immidiately introduced myself:

"Hatim- Your husband speaking. How are you? Have you eaten?" I asked my wife over the phone, sitting in my car. In response she timidly replied yes. I than spoke further:

" I want to come over again and see you. Would that be ok for you and your family? Although now I dont need approval to see my wife" I chuckled lightly and so did she on the other side of the phone line. 

"Tell me my Jaan, do you want me to come?" I asked her.

At first she remained silent but than hesitantly said, "I- it will be hasslesome for you".

I felt a rush of deep affection for her and in even if the distance would have been longer than it is, after feeling her great care, I would have gone to see her anyway. So the actual distance seems only a street away. Therefore very naturally I only pressed for: " You just say, shall I come..... do YOU want me to come?". I tried to keep my tone as encouraging as possible so that she can express her accurate feeling and thoughts with me, today and throughout our marriage.

After a small pause she replied in yes.

.........

Ifrah

I dont understand my fluctuation, one minute or one time I can easily talk with my new husband without getting overly shy, but next moment or time I stammer and or blush and hardly manage to utter a word. I guess it will take time, besides that after all I am a mashriqi girl and have never really spoken to him in all these years.

In today's times one might find it strange how one can develop deep feelings for someone without having spoken to them really or without knowing their likes-dislikes, favourites. I dont even know his birthday. 

His age, profession and somewhat education level and few other minor things was known to me since Inayah randomly sometimes used to speak a line or two about it.

Anyhow the good part is that Hatim too never really directly asked me questions to know me better or just to talk me. I have always considered it as a sign of his sharafat.

And now that we very much are allowed to talk with each other at the very least, my heart internally jumps up in my throat like a lovestruck teenager, It feels nice but also overwhelming in a good way.

He said he'll come in one hour so I decided to continue packing; nimco, jello packets, stitched suits, Naseem packet masalas, canned haleem amongst many other things for my chacha's family. Fresh mithai and special fruits which are not available there or way too expensive will be purchased on last day.

I was so engrossed in packing that I didnt realise, when my room door was slowly opened. A wide smile spread on my face as I watched my husband come inside; in his hand a rose bouquet and a cute matka with desi ice cream. But more than anything he looked so happy to see me and for a moment I forgot to go over to him and take the items of his hand like a good wife is supposed to do. I was once again staring at him, just like I had done earlier on when we were in our room.

(Matka: clay pot)

The first interactions with spouse post Nikah or even wedding I guess, is filled with shyness, yet I can imagine that the feelings and emotions visible on our faces today will most likely never be seen in this manner again. Therefore earlier on and even now I was using the opportunity and memorised his face of today as much as I could, pushing shyness at the back of my mind.

Like a beautiful vision he came closer to me after having closed the door the minute he entered the room. "This is for you" he said placing the bouquet in my arm. His aura and weight of arm as he placed the item in mines was indescribable- very manly, my mind accepting his nearness as though I have known his scent and feel since much longer. I guess its the beauty of Nikah how fast the familiarity can build, though knowing him from before must be playing some part too.

After showing me the cute ice cream matka, he put it aside. How very thoughtful of him not to hand the cold pot in my hand.

Without thinking further I scooted closer to him and gave him a one arm hug with the bouquet still in my other hand. I than murmured a thank you before pulling away. His reply to my thankfulness triggered my shyness again, because he said:

" A wife doesnt say thank you and especially not today. I want to hear something else...... something which made you mine in almost blink of an eye. I want to watch your face expression this time". His tone was laced with teasing. His eyes sparkled in mischief as he leaned backward until his back touched the mattress, coating my bedsheet with his scent, which didnt come from a parfuem cloud.

I would have probably said what he wanted to hear, but my shyness was overpowering. I was too concious of that he was lying on his back on my bed and me sitting in a way that if he were to pull me down, I would land with the side of my body, half on top of him. The thought of this made me do an imaginary covering eyes with hand move like the famous emoticon icon.

My eyes fell on the ice cream matka and using that as an excuse, I started to move away from him but not before saying:

"I'll just put this in freezer and be right back. Do you want anything? What did you have for dinner? How... hows your bladder now?"

He smiled at my antics and politely refused my offer saying he had a paratha roll from outside. As for the bladder he only said that he's started to feel better.

Upon returning to my room, I saw him almost dozing off. For a moment I looked at his peaceful yet tired face. His face- which is becoming more and more used to to my eyes like my own. I really dont mind seeing his face for the rest of my life in sha Allah. 

I decided to let him take a small nap and grabbing my prayer mat from corner, I offered Isha Salah. Everything felt so serene; offering prayer in the quiteness of room, my husband close by.

Eventually I had to let him go, because letting him spend the night here would have caused too much awkwardness in morning especially infront of my parents. So I lightly shook him by the shoulder as I sat beside his head, " sorry for disturbing, but I think you might like to go home and sleep. Its past 11pm." My voice soft.

Rubbing sleep from his eyes, yawning he replied, " No, I am sorry. We couldnt even talk properly or do anything special (because of my tiredness)". He looked at me intently as he lightly ran the back of his index finger over my covered arm. The touch was light as feather yet making me feel goosebumps.

Without looking away, I instead said, " Your presence, you coming over was the highlight. The gifts were the icing on the cake". 

Before I could think of more to say,  he sat up and leaned his forehead against mine. Our nose tips barely  touching.

Time froze, our lips slightly parted, eyelids closed. We cautiously took breath. Too afraid that this life dependent act would lead to our first intimate contact- a kiss. 

He opened his eyes first and I felt him smile and whisper: " Not right now". I was collecting my blushing when his lips went one step up and kissed my nose tip causing butterflies irupting inside my stomach.

.......

Ghazalah 

Today is the first event at Ifrah's in-laws house. Uptil now if any meetings happened it happened at our place. I am aware that had this marriage alliance been within my community, we the bride side mostly would have to go the groom side for any meetings etc, because apparantly guy side are "VIP", they dont set foot at bride side at every opportunity. 

In my community almost everyone follows the rule "larki ke ghar paani bhi nahi peete", but looks like either my samdhis never heard of this phrase or too farigh to come over whenever there was need to meet, most phone calls are initiated by Hatim's parents too. 

(One/groom and his family dont drink water at daughter-in-laws home)

Anyhow since they dont seem to have an issue or are unaware, I didnt feel the need to go to their residential area. 

Right now I was searching for my hair pin box in my dresser, when the Nikah function's decor bill came in my hand. 

Just than Jamshed came out from the en-suite bathroom, bringing with him a whiff of woody spice scent. And oh- how I love this scent on him. I turned to look at him. He was wearing a dark grey tie suite with white shirt and black and white plaid pattern tie. His salt and pepper hair shining in the ceiling light. He was surely looking attractive and exactly how I like to see him. Crisp and sharp to the T.

I would be lying if I didnt expect a similar reaction of him after seeing me, but instead he asked: "What kind of paper are you looking at? I hope your ready to leave in a while". Saying this he came closer to the dressing table where I was still sitting.

He looked quite handsome, so I let it pass that he didnt compliment me right away, because I will get it out of him anyway. But first I wanted to get the paper topic out of the way:

"Ifra's nikah decor bill came to my hand. Quite expensive, if only Ifrah's in-laws noticed the details etc. Lets see how they will decorate their event, I am trying to keep my expectation zero". 

(Mature discussion ahead- strictly 18+. Read at own risk)

So with this topic out of the way, I stood up and stepped closer to him. My hands playing with his tie end, " someone could get lucky tonight". I whispered in his ear, my hands going around his nape.

His response however highly irritated me, to say the least: " Not tonight. I dont have anything to GIVE you. My reservoir most likely empty". He told me as though he's talking about the car not having fuel in it. 

I was way too long married to decipher his so-called modest phrasing though. My anger rose at his casualness so I spat, not caring that every little bit of romantic feeling gone:

"..... How comes Jamshed? Can you not wait till I would approach you? You do know that your  married and that my right shouldnt be neglected?! And whilst we are at it, dont think you can get too comfortable with other STUFF. Afterall its haram. If I gave you bit free hand many years ago, it doesnt mean I can not tighten your rope again". I glared at him, pointing my index finger at him to make my point clear. 

And obviously being a man especially surrounding this topic, he had an answer ready for me:" One thing you said correctly, more than two decades ago YOU were the one who said not to bother you more than once or twice a week that too when the time is suiteable for you. 

So my dear wife, by giving me a free hand for all the other time, it was and is up to me what and when I do what.

 And I am not in my 20's or 30's anymore where my reservoire refills overnight. Tough luck. 

Also you dont bring in halal/haram and rights into the discussion. 

You were foolish enough to tell me to help myself. Didnt you know that life isnt always the same, busy routine etc. Also I wasnt going to become an animal by ignoring when your unwell. Anyhow now all the other STUFF is part of my s*xual life too. 

After our marriage, I stopped with those things, being aware that its haram and destructive. But when the wife again shows you that way, than no red blooded man or atleast those with weak Imaan refuse this offer. 

And now that you want me to stop the extra activities, well I am no hero who will promise to give up. I need it for stimulation and quick relief . 

And being honest, in OWN TIME you dont have to be considerate of partner, you decide the pace, one can ditch all the other side stuff (foreplay) and just focus on the ultimate moment. A man doesnt really need all that warm up stuff which the woman at home pays great attention to in s*x, we mostly just do it for her sake. 

Also no matter how beautiful a wife is, but she is not a palette of variety suiteable for any kind of mood. And in those videos, the variety of women is endless which gives a new thrill everytime. However only at one point you miss the wife- the moment of release but my wife only works as per her schedule" He was talking in sarcastic and taunting manner.

It was pointless to grill him further. All these videos switched the fuse in his brain and he has become too comfortable with his side activities. I am definitely taking the blame but I never thought that he would someday kind of openly declare that the side activities seem more appealing than own wife. 

Right now I am too frustrated to come with a solution, but I am definitely going to become strict with his side activities. He has to wait for me, because I am not a wife who will serve herself when  he feels like it.

..........

Ifrah

Our silver Mercedes S class entered inside my future home's gated community, where almost everyone from my husband and in-laws community resides there. According to Inayah, several decades ago a rich man from their community had purchased the plot of land and built four story flats next to each other. About twenty-five of them, which was secured by a gate to keep the people inside safe from outsiders. Some people were owners whilst others were living on rent. 

Although Inayah is my best friend that too since school days, I never asked her wether they lived on rent or owned their flat. But I have always kind of known their financial status. Anyhow our trio's friendship was never based on the size of our pockets.

Right now as our Mecedes was parking, many elderly women living on ground floor were leaning out from their windows to find out whose guest we were or probably to get a glimpse of the bride. Inayah has once mentioned that often these elderly ladies, many of them widows felt lonely and bored inside their homes, so they spend considerable amount of time by window and balcony to feel some liveliness of outside their homes.

Mama, one of my aunt and her daughter helped me out of the car and just as they fixed my dress and dupatta again, I saw Hatim walk towards us. A wide small on his face as our eyes met. He came and stood before me and before reaching out for my hand he briefly looked at me from head to toe. 

I was dressed in a mustard and pink Anarkali dress. I did my make up and hair myself today.

With Hatim holding my hand we started to climb the narrow staircase of Hatim's building, where his phoopo lived on 4th floor. Some of my family members already walked ahead of us with the milk glass, mithai and the thaals for Hatim and his family.

I had hardly taken few steps when Hatim whispered to me, " shall I carry you up to 4th floor, my bride"? His eyes sparkling in mischieve. Who knew the sober Hatim could flirt like this. Was he even aware that he was flirting with me. I suppressed from cracking up and politely denied his offer.

Upon reaching his phoopo's door, my mother-in-law immidiately engulfed me in warm embrace and whilst giving me duas said, " our second daughter is here making all our happinesses complete. You havent even fully set your foot in our home yet, still my son has turned into personification of happiness". 

As I moved ahead next Inayah pulled me into a bone crushing hug saying, "bestie and sister first than bhabhi. Thank you for being part of our family, a special thank you from a certain someone's behalf too". This earned my bestie, my sister like friend a fake telling off by her precious brother, " first comes husband relation for Ifrah than your relation with her, so try to be in my good books". The siblings shared a laugh and my eyes travelled to my mother who had stucked her tongue out in dissapointment over the decor; the backdrop behind sofa was created with colourful chiffon and silk dupattas from the ladies outfits, few (ordinary) balloons were sticked on the curtain rod.

Once we sat down my cousin, Hina, came forward and announced the game and rule of the night. She said: " since neither of you would willingly win out of love for spouse, but today you have no choice but to win for your spouse sake. If you loose a game your spouse will have to eat something unpleasant. But because we dont want to burden our bride, Hatim may take over her share of unpleasant eating. As reward Ifrah will offer you a sip of this trophe milk. By the end of all games, based on the amount of milk left in cup, you have to pay your 'salian'".

So the round of games started with unknotting thread with one hand from each others wrist in as less time as possible. My Mami tied five wool threads on my wrist and a male cousin of Hatims did the same on him. We had our head buried in the task, our foreheads almost touching. Not only was the unknotting with one hand difficult, but the sight of his lips was very distracting. His lips were somewhere between thin and heart-shaped. Whatever it was, it wasnt letting me think straight. My mind perceived them as luscious regardless. 

And it seems as though Hatim too was struggling to stay focussed on unknotting, because he too was sneaking glances at my lips than deeply looking into my eyes. And our eyes were having a conversation of their own in those mere seconds. 

It was a surprise that I won the first game, which meant I had to eat something unpleasant. But before the food was even shown to me, Hatim protectively shielded me by bringing his arm forward and proudly said:

" I am taking her share. No further discussion. Bring the item". I watched him in trance as one of my male cousin fed him a spoonful of sweet maggie (maggie  noodles cooked in milk and seasons with nutmeg powder, garnished with rose petals). My poor husband clearly pulled a face at the odd taste. I than smiled at him as I offered him the trophe milk cup of which he took a small sip of.

And like this more harmless games were played; Hatim having to unclutch my palm to get hold of a ring, fishing ring from milk, feeding each other mithai whilst both are blindfolded. The trick was to put mithai in first attempt in mouth. We were however allowed to locate the lip first with our hand. Needless to say that all these games especially the mithai feeding one was increasing the physical chemistry between us and when our eyes would finally lock, the other one clearly felt that our next meeting in seclusion would show the result of all this currently built (pleasant) tention.

On winning and loosing end, so far Hatim was eating his required share upon loosing and also my share. He never let me even try my share. Yet all this wasnt enough for my side of family and we were presented with a gulab jamun platter, ten between us both with one special gulab jamun amongst them; red chillie stuffed gulab jamun. 

Luckily the third gulab jamun was the special one, which I got hold of. I really wanted to give Hatim a break. Marriage is about standing up and protecting your spouse and these games were used as symbol. And I wanted to participate atleast a little just like my husband was doing. When my eyes watered due to my tongue burning, Hatim filled a glass of Evian mineral water. My heart bled as I took a sip of it; the price of a single bottle costs more than several packs of local brand water. I hope my mum noticed his and his family's consideration towards us.

My aunt than put forward a teaspoon of cough syrup to him, saying he needs to hold it in his mouth and say I-love-you. Everything happened so quick before I could protest; involving medicines wasnt funny at all. During this process almost the entire mouth content went down his throat. He slightly caughed and worry lines appeared on my forehead as I lightly pressed his arm to give him support. I would have prefered to pat his back but all eyes were on us. 

For final game before he would receive the trophe milk, my mum stepped forward with her nephew, he was holding a desi ayuverdic tonic jar. My eyes widened and before he could bring the spoonful of goovy spicy sweet bitter edible something to Hatim's mouth, my protective side overtook and I firmly said: "all these rasms are supposed to be fun and not play with someones well-being. Hatim is not having that". 

My mother tried her luck one last time with the majun, questioning his love for me even. To proof her, my simple husband reached out for the jar but I took it off him, my eyes pooling with unshed tears about the extend hes willing to go for me. But I too know how to prevent him going  to all lenghts for me. 

Finally he drank the remaining milk but paid the amount for full glass. My cousins happily jumping up and down with the cash in hand.

(A/N: theres a rasm called doodh pilai. And it doesnt involve medicine but sometimes larki waale go over board and many badmazgis are created on this event. All these pranks can wind up a groom greatly. Better not to do it)

.........

Hatim

I was feeling quesy as I held Ifrah's hand and led her downstairs to my parents house. We were going to be alone in the house and I had planned to bring her down anyway.

 The entire time she was apologising as we made our way down alongside  feeling guilty. 

I paused in my movement and gently told her, "the moment is over, I'll be fine in a while. Let it be just me and you after we reach our house". In response she nodded.

Inside the house I told her as casually as possible to head to our/my bedroom. After few seconds, I tiptoed behind her and found her walking on the few paper snippets, with each snippet reading one word; follow-this-way-to-my-heart. 

Her steps came to halt infront of the long mirror which I had borrowed from Inayah. Ifrah looked at the flower M-shaped flower garland hanging over the mirror.

I slowly came from behind and softly cupped her smooth chin and turned it so that she was looking straight at her mirror image. With my left arm circled around her stomach I whispered next to her ear, "YOU Ifrah are my heart"

.....

Thank you for reading. Do leave your valuable votes. I love reading your comments so keep them coming too.

How was the chapter? Your favourite bit? 

So our sizzling couple are alone after chemistry and sparks flying between them. How far will they go ? ;)

And will the badmazgi of larki waale offend Hatim's family?

Mr and Mrs Jamshed and their very personal issue. Your pov? Whose right or wrong? What should Ghazalah do and most of all can she make her husband give up the bad "habits"?