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Happy Birthday to AestheticLover004! 🎂🎉🎉🥳🎈

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VALIMA

Syra

I wore an ice blue lehenga with a maxi dress that  was adorned with the most beautiful, most delicate gold embroidery that I had seen. The opaque dupatta that was of the same blue colour, had a border that sparkled elegantly under the lights of the Valima hall, with sequins dotted over the entire length of the dupatta itself. I wore a large set of ice-blue and gold bangles on each wrist. and the golden jewellery set that consisted of a necklace, earrings and maang tikka, had beads and pearls dangling from it. The outfit and the jewellery were from my in-laws, meanwhile the pale gold sandals with tiny gems dotting the straps and the stiletto heels were from the collection that I'd brought along with me, and were actually given to me by my Dania Khalla. These were actually the same ones that I had worn on my Nikah/baraat day.

Musa, meanwhile, wore a grey suit with a tie and pocket square that matched my dress colour.

It was almost funny, but the hall was mostly crowded with my side of the family- Ma Sha Allah. My entire family was here: my paternal grandparents, my Phuphos and their families, my Mamu and his whole family, all my Khallas and their families. Ma Sha Allah.

But the moment I saw Jannah, I groaned internally. The cheeky grin on her face made me realise that I was in for an evening of leg-pulling. Wearing a long pale pink dress with golden sequins and embroidery, she looked gorgeous, Ma Sha Allah. She had matched the outfit with a silver sparkling clutch and  triangular-fronted silver shoes. 

So before she started...I started. "Zeeshan Bhai was looking for you." 

"What?" Her smile disappeared and she immediately glanced around.

Currently, the two of us were on stage, while Musa was chatting with my elder male cousins. 

When Jannah glanced back at me, she saw the cheeky smile on my face. "You little...Syra."

I laughed. "Wow. What an insult! You called me by my name?" I feigned shock.

"You're right. I should call you Sarah." She giggled.

I narrowed my eyes at her. "True evil does exist in the form of best friends."

She sat down beside me. "You know, Syra, I'm glad I decided to go for the tour guide/driver job. I had an experience of a lifetime myself because of that."

"You mean because you met him?" I fluttered my eyes dramatically.

"Chudail." She muttered, blushing.

*"Witch."

"Takes one to know one."

"I'll be right back. I haven't said hello to your mother today. She's so nice, Ma Sha Allah!" She got up and headed over to where my mother sat with all my Khallas.

And as I glanced down uncomfortably at my clutch in my lap, I heard footsteps ascend the stairs and looked up to see Suleyman Bhai. I frowned slightly as I saw a weird sort of sadness in his eyes. 

"Congratulations, Syra." He spoke softly. 

I stood up. "Thank you."

"May Allah bless you with a lifetime of happiness. Ameen." 

I remembered what he had basically told me about his unrequited love. "Allah has written a fair share of happiness for everyone. You'll find your happiness too, In Sha Allah. Ameen."

"Can we have a photo please?" A photographer randomly appeared.

Nodding with a slight smile, Suleyman Bhai turned to stand next to me, briefly glancing at me before smiling at the camera.

And when he walked off, my parents came up on the stage. 

"Oh, my sweet Syra." Mum hugged me tearfully. She looked stunning in her mint-green sari. 

And naturally, the photographer wanted emotional photos of the bride with her parents. I stood between them, my arms around each of them. 

I was going to stay at the place they were renting tonight. It was a tradition in many Pakistani families for the bride to go with her parents after the Valima. The following day, if the groom hadn't already been staying over as well, he came and picked her up.  And if the groom was already staying there, his family members came and picked the couple up. This was known as muklawa.

Musa wasn't coming unfortunately, despite my parents invited him. He said he wanted me to have the time with my parents, without them getting all formal in his presence. 

During the Valima, I was constantly surrounded by cousins and relatives, being teased mercilessly, naturally. 

My in-laws were the perfect hosts, Ma Sha Allah, and looked after everyone excellently. When it came time to dinner, they had all the main relatives from my side, including my parents, sat at a specially reserved table. 

Musa came back onto the stage to sit beside me. "Hey. How is it going?" 

"How is it going? What am I, one of your buddies?" I grinned.

"Isn't a wife a buddy too?" He lifted up his fist. "Come on. Pound it, buddy."

I rolled my eyes but pounded my fist against his, a smile spread on my face despite my attempts to stop it.

"You know, Syra...it will be really quiet tonight." He spoke only loud enough for me to hear, leaning forward.

"Is this your way of saying that you'll miss me?" 

"No, I'm telling you that it'll be nice and peaceful tonight." 

I tilted my head. "I've been sleeping early due to tiredness the last two nights. Wait until I'm fresh and rested." 

Both his eyebrow rose and his grinned widened. "Why? What are you planning on doing, Mrs Musa?" 

I realised that my words could be taken in a different manner, and I felt my cheeks warm up slightly, but I kept my expressions calm. "Some things are best left experienced than told." 

He took my hand in his, squeezing it lightly. "Looking forward to plenty of experiences together, In Sha Allah."

I smiled. "In Sha Allah." 

*

"Take care, bachay." My father-in-law placed a hand over my head.

Aisha Aunty gave me a warm hug. "Kal mulaqat howaygi, In Sha Allah." 

*"We'll meet tomorrow, In Sha Allah."

I nodded politely at Faris Bhai, who also nodded back with a warm smile. 

Then Shaila hugged me. "We'll miss you already, Bhabi."

"I'll miss you guys too." I said, sincerely. 

Then I slid my arm through Musa's and we walked over to his car. I waved to my parents, who went ahead first to be there to greet us on arrival. 

Musa helped me into the front seat of the car, tucking in my lehenga before closing the door. He walked across the front of the car before getting into the driving seat. Pulling his suit jacket of, he turned and tossed it into the back seat. The pristine white shirt clung onto his toned torso, repeatedly pulling my gaze in that direction, almost as if by a magnetic pull.

As we drove away from the venue, I unpinned the dupatta from my head, placing it over my shoulder instead. 

"This colour really suits you, Ma Sha Allah." He complimented me, taking my hand in his.

"Are you praising your own family's choice?" I teased.

"Of course. All us Duraid family members have amazing taste, Ma Sha Allah." He gave me a brief but pointed look.

I smiled. "I don't doubt that at all." I dramatically flicked locks of my hair that were falling onto my shoulders. For the event, it had been pinned back with a silver glittering clip and hair-sprayed.

He laughed. "Very modest."

"You are the one talking about your family's amazing taste. I'm just agreeing with my husband." 

We continued our banter all the way to the place where my parents were staying. 

They had chosen a large farmhouse, which would be got to accommodate our extended family as well. 

"It's okay, Syra. Don't miss me too much." He spoke us he pulled up in the large circular driveway. There were many cars parked there. It seemed like we were all going to have a crazy fun night. Old times with the cousins and all.

But despite knowing that I'd be surrounded by everyone, my heart was sinking a little. I glanced towards Musa, swallowing hard. Tears threatened to prick at the corners of my eyes.

It's just one night, Syra. What is wrong with you?

We got out and he took out my overnight bag from the car boot, before walking me to the front door of the slate-grey wide-bricked building. Three steps led up to the black polished double front-doors that were flanked by narrow blurred glass. The doors had modern wall lights on either side, giving it an elegant appearance. I was about to reach out to press the doorbell, when Musa grabbed my wrist.

"Don't you want to privately say goodbye to me?" He whispered, pulling me towards himself. He leaned down towards me and just as his lips were about to brush against mine, we heard voices on the other side of the front door, causing us to step away from each other.

"I feel like I've just brought you home after a date and now I'm going to be interrogated by your dad or something." He grinned.

The door opened and Ifra beamed at me excitedly, even as Hareem Khalla pulled her arm,.

"Ifra!" My youngest Khalla told her daughter off.

I hugged Ifra tightly, even though we had literally just met at the hall.

"Assalam Alaikum." Musa greeted my slowly gathering family members politely.

"Walaikum Assalam!" A chorus of replies made him smile.

"Musa, come inside, beta." My mother said. "Have some tea and snacks with us, come on."

"Aunty, it's late. I should head back home, but I promise I'll stay longer tomorrow when I come to pick Syra up, In Sha Allah." 

"Are you sure she has to go tomorrow? I mean, she'll be living with you now anyway, so..." Ifra began in a teasing tone.

"Ifra." Another warning glare from her mother made me stifle a giggle.

Musa glanced down at me. "I'll message you tomorrow to confirm the time I come, In Sha Allah."

I nodded. "Okay."

"Allah Hafiz." Musa greeted everyone and began to head back out of the door again.

"You can walk him to the car if you want, Syra." My mother told me pointedly.

I nodded, shoving my clutch into Ifra's hands. Adjusting my dupatta on my shoulder, I followed Musa out. It was a chilly night, and I shivered slightly.

He turned to face me, leaning his hand on the car.

He looks so s*xy. I was surprised at the sudden thought that had invaded my mind. Ma Sha Allah. I briefly glanced towards the house, and when I saw that the coast was clear, I moved up to him and pressed my hands against his chest. "Don't be late tomorrow."

"I can wait out here all night if you want?" He nodded towards his car.

"That sounds like a plan." I whispered, taking another step closer.

"Good night, Syra." He wrapped his arms around me. "Take care of yourself." 

I wrapped my arms around his neck, embracing him tightly. I turned my head to look up at him, and he looked back down at me, and suddenly I forgot my surroundings and leaned up to press my lips against his. For a long time we stood there, lost in these passionate moments. It was as if we were separating for a year, rather than a night.

"You're cold." He said. "Go back inside, Syra." For some reason, he lifted my dupatta and draped me over my head, giving me an adoring smile. "Ma Sha Allah, my bride." Placing his hands on my cheeks, he kissed my forehead.

"Drive safe." I told him. "Allah Hafiz."

"Allah Hafiz, Syra." 

I turned to head back into the house. Lifting my lehenga up slightly, I walked carefully in those dangerous heels. By the front door, I turned to look at him. He was still standing there by the car, arms crossed over his chest now. Giving him a final smile, I entered the house.

It didn't take long for me to start feeling homesick.

And this time it wasn't my London home that I was missing.

*

Musa

When I arrived back home, I saw Dad and Faris in the living room watching cricket.

"Are you both still awake?" I flopped down on an armchair once I'd greeted them.

"No, you're just imagining us." Faris chuckled. 

I threw a cushion at him, which he simply caught.

"Musa, if they were asking so nicely, you should have stayed there." Dad said, glancing at me only briefing before the sound of shouting on the TV captured his attention once again.

"Dad, all her relatives are there. If I had gone there, they would all act formal and wouldn't have been at ease." I glanced down into the dark hallway. "Is Mamma asleep?" 

"Yes, she was exhausted." My father replied. "In fact, I'll be going up soon as well." 

"Even Shaila's gone to bed." Faris chewed on a crisp that he had picked up from the bowl set on the coffee table in front of them. "God, I don't know how the ladies do it. I cannot even imagine wearing all those heavy outfits and jewellery."

I thought about Syra today as she had slowly walked towards the front door, and I compared her to the Syra that I had known back in Khwabpur, who used to climb up trees, wearing her trainers. The two versions of her were complete contrasts of each other, but both versions were gorgeous, and both versions owned my heart completely.

"We've lost Musa Bhai." My brother glanced at Dad, a teasing smile on his face. "He's lost in the thoughts of Bhabi."

"Faris, shut up." 

"Make me." 

"Will you two stop behaving like kids and let me watch?" Dad feigned irritation, but there was a small tired smile on his face.

"I'm surprised you haven't rushed up to be with Mamma right now." Faris targeted him now.

I laughed now. 

"Baaz aajao, beta. Baap hoon tumhara." 

*"Behave, son. I'm your father."

Faris just laughed harder. 

*

Syra

For a while, my relatives gave us space so that I could spend some time with my parents. I'm sure the adults had to keep their aulaad (i.e. my cousins) under control for a while.

But the moments the elder generation went to bed, my cousins gathered in the living area, and we decided to watch a horror film. It was like old times.

Except that it wasn't. I kept reaching for my phone, my fingers itching to message him, but each time I stopped myself and reminded myself to spend time with my cousins. Once everyone had gone back to their lives, God knows when we would be together again.

"You're getting distracted." Ifra whispered to me from beside me.

I shook my head in instant denial.

She simply grinned.

I rolled my eyes and stood up. "I'll be right back." I walked out before she could question me. After the evening of dinner amongst numerous guests, I was getting a headache watching the film, so I headed to check out the rest of the farmhouse.

I stumbled across a beautiful indoor swimming pool. The room had a very contemporary design with dark-bricked walls and recessed lights. A cabinet was set up to the side with racks that were filled with towels. And on the other side of the pool was a seating area with a black and grey sofa set, along with a small coffee table. I took a seat on the sofa, the smell of chlorine strong in the air. I closed my eyes and absorbed in the silence. 

Pulling my legs up underneath me, I rested back against the soft grey cushions of the sofa. Closing my eyes, I relaxed after these exhausting few days. But then I thought about Musa and I found myself smiling even as exhaustion overwhelmed my body. I opened my eyes and held up my mehndi-covered hands. It was still so hard to believe but I was married. I am actually married!

My phone, which lay on the table, suddenly vibrated. I instantly grabbed it and looked at the notification with my heart skipping a beat.

<Ifra: Where did you disappear off to?>

I sighed, smiling tiredly to myself.

<Syra: I'm in the pool room. It's so pretty! I'm too mentally exhausted to watch a film right now.>

<Ifra: I'm coming there. The guys are laughing over and commenting on the best moments, and I can't stand it.>

<Syra: Come.>

Before long, she was walking in, complaining. "Those guys are unbelievable. Just because they can't enjoy something, they don't let others enjoy it either."

I laughed lightly.

She took a seat on the single chair and glanced curiously at me. "I thought you must be sneakily chatting to hubby, but you look knackered."

"I feel knackered." I yawned. "I just want to sleep, but I also don't want to waste my time here."

"Don't do that. Don't compromise your health for fun." 

"Now I have no energy to move from here, so I think I'll just sleep here."

Soon, Tammy Appi and Aizah Appi joined us too, and eventually Harris and Suleyman Bhai found their way to the pool room as well. Without thinking, the boys jumped into the pool.

"What is wrong with you guys?!" Aizah Appi gasped out. "It's cold! You'll catch a cold!"

But that night, nobody cared. It was a night of fun, laughter, chatter and food, and I found myself enjoying myself despite my fatigue.

But when Musa messaged me, gone was my focus on my surroundings and I started chatting with him instead.

<Musa:  😴?>

<Syra: Nope.>
<Syra: What are you up to?>

<Musa: Watching a match with Dad and Faris.🏏>
<Musa: What are you doing?>

<Syra: 🏊🏽‍♀️>

<Musa: At this time?>

<Syra: My cousins are. I'm just in the pool room.>

<Musa: Okay, I'll let you enjoy.>

<Syra: No, it's fine. Keep the messages coming!>

Why am I sounding so eager? It was weird. I was surrounded by people who I'd grown up with really, and yet I was thinking of the man who'd only been officially related to me for two days. 

"Syra, if you want to leave this room, I'll cover for you." Ifra whispered to me with a knowing smile.

I bit my lower lip, even as I felt my cheeks turning pink. 

"Go." She nodded.

"Thank you." I whispered back and stood up. As everyone else watched the boys mess around, I sneakily walked out.

But the moment I got to my room and lay down, instead of chatting the night away with him, I fell asleep. 

*

I was up for Fajr, and later as the sun began to rise, I watched the view from the large window in my room. Sliding open the window, I breathed in the fresh air. Bird were chirping, and the scent of autumn hung heavily in the air. And of course, as a photographer, I had to take photos.

My gaze went to the garden, and I saw my father in his tracksuit, ready to go out for his morning walk. Smiling, I grabbed a shawl from the wardrobe and put on my trainers before heading down. "Assalam Alaikum."

"Walaikum Assalam!" He held out his arm and gave me a side-hug, kissing the top of my head. "Normally you just go right back to sleep after Fajr." 

"I couldn't resist the naturally beautiful view of Islamabad." I shrugged. "I'll go for a walk with you today."

"Not taking your camera?" He teased. 

"Some moments need to be lived and enjoyed, without the constant presence of a lens." 

"And that is exactly how entire generations grew up before all this technology developed." He nodded as the two of us walked to the front gate.

Dad and I walked to the nearby park, which was quite busy with people who loved their morning exercise. 

Funnily enough, before marriage I had never gone for a morning walk with him. As he had said, I normally just slept against after Fajr. But as soon as I had seen him this morning, I took the excuse to spend some time with him.

Right now, every single moment with my parents was even more precious considering that they'd be going back home soon. Thousands of miles away. My heart sank at the thought.

"I know it's a little early to ask, but are you happy, Syra?" He asked, carefully studying my face.

I gave him a genuine smile. "I am. The Duraid family is wonderful family, Ma Sha Allah. They've been nothing but welcoming towards me."

"I'm glad to hear that. Alhumdulillah." 

*

Aisha

I woke up for Fajr alone in my room, and I almost immediately understood where my husband was. When I got downstairs, my suspicion was confirmed when I saw my three men asleep on the various sofas in the living room.

As I began to walk towards them to wake them up, I was suddenly yanked right back into the past. I remembered the last Fajr thirty years ago, right before he had gone out of city, and right before I had been deceitfully lured back to Khwabpur with my baby son Musa.

*

FLASHBACK

I had woken up for Fajr, but was instantly faced with a strong bout of morning sickness. I had immediately rushed to the bathroom and had thrown up. Once I had cleaned up and performed wudhu, I returned back to my room and realised that Farid wasn't there...neither was Musa in his cot.

Confused, I headed out of the room, and immediately made a beeline towards Musa's nursery. Of course my baby son didn't sleep there yet, but we had the room all set up for him. I was yet to tell my husband that I had just found out that we were having another baby, and that we need to make the nursery fit for two babies rather than just Musa.

When I had entered the nursery, I saw Farid asleep on the armchair, holding our baby son in his arms, who was also fast asleep. The only light in the room was from the night light that reflected blue stars on the walls and ceilings.

"Sunain." I patted my husband's shoulder. "Fajr da waqt ho gaya ay. Uthjao. Masjid wi jaana ay tussi."

*"Listen."
"It's time for Fajr. Wake up. You have to go to the mosque as well."

Musa whined softly in his sleep, his chubby little arm rested across his father's chest.

I reached forward and lifted my son up, cuddling him in my arms. He made a face as if he was about to start crying, but he must have realised that he was in my arms, because he immediately snuggled up against me, grabbing a lock of my hair in his tiny fist even in his sleep. "Uthjain." I repeated.

*"Wake up."

Feeling cheeky, I sat down in his lap, still snuggling Musa against my chest. I leaned forward and rubbed my cheek against Farid's stubble-covered cheek. I felt his arm wrap around my waist. 

"Tussi aithay ki kar ray si?"  I asked, adjusting Musa so that his head was now resting on my shoulder, his warm breath felt on my neck.

*"What were you doing here?"

"Sadda puttar ro reya si." He replied.

*"Our son was crying."

"Menu jaga lainde tussi." I ran a hand through his hair.

*"You should have woken me up."

"Kyun? Mera munda nai ay Musa? Meri zimaidari nai hai oda wal?" 

*"Why? Isn't Musa my son? Don't I have responsibility towards him?"

"Tussi aini mehnat kardeyo din raat. Tussi thak jaande ho." 

*"You work so hard day and night. You get tired."

"Tu nai thak de? Saara din kar di daikh bal, te Musa da khayal rakhna..." He muttered, placing a kiss against the side of my neck.

*"Don't you get tired? You take care of the house all day, as well as looking after Musa..."

After a great amount of vetting, he had hired a maid to cook and clean when I was in my third trimester with Musa. But overlooking a maid and what she does was a task itself. Especially when I had caught her slacking off while I had been breastfeeding Musa in my room. I'd come out to see her sitting on the sofa watching TV, while the food almost burned on the stove.

I stood up. "Dair ho rai ay. Adhaan kadon di ho gayi ay." 

*"It's get late. The Adhan was called out a long time ago."

He got up as well and wrapped his arm around me. "Mere kholon bohti ay jidda shukar aada karna ay menu Rab da." He kissed my cheek.

*"I have a lot to be thankful to my Lord for."

He then kissed the top of our son's head. 

I discreetly placed a hand over my belly. He was yet unaware of the newest blessing in our life, our second baby. I was starting to think of special ways to tell him.

We shared a kiss, our son snuggled between us. 

Just before Fajr that morning, as we stood there as a family, I felt that nothing could go wrong in our lives. I felt that Farid and I could have a beautiful and complete family life with our Musa and our unborn baby. 

*

PRESENT

I gasped out as I returned back to reality. I looked at Faris, a tear running down my cheek as I saw the boyish innocence on his face as he slept. I looked at Musa and I still remembered his heartbroken cries as I was mercilessly forced to leave him behind. I then looked at Farid, who had suffered as much as I had; maybe even worse since he didn't know whether I was alive or not.

But then I reminded myself that I needed to step out of the past and focus on the future. I thought about how Faris was truly happy with Shaila, who had been an amazing companion to him so far, Ma Sha Allah. I thought about the happiness on Musa's face as he married the love of his life, Ma Sha Allah. And I thought about the love Farid and I still shared, as powerful as ever, if not more than before.

We may have lost years, but we had gained back happiness in full force. Alhumdulillah. The sweet, passionate moments I shared with Farid made me almost forget about our years apart. Waking up in his arms each morning had now become a habit. Sleeping after having a deep conversation with him was now routine. I had my husband back. I had both my sons with me. And now I had amazing daughters-in-law. I refused to look back into the past now.

"Aisha?" Farid had woken up as I had stood there.

I smiled softly at him. "Fajr ho gayi hai. Uthain aur apne beton ko bhi uthayain."

*"It's Fajr. Wake up and wake your sons up too."

He stood up and walked towards me. Wrapping an arm around me, he held me close as I rested my head against his chest. We watched our sleeping sons, before exchanging a smile.

True love couldn't be extinguished by hatred. True love stood the test of time. 

As Farid softly kissed me on the lips, I didn't even care that our grown-up, married sons were asleep in the same room. It didn't matter. I had my entire family now, Alhumdulillah. And if that meant that our sons had to wince at their parents' untimely romance, so be it. I was going to compensate for the lost years with all my family.

*

Syra

 I wore a cream coloured gharara with light golden embroidery and a light blue dupatta. Mum said that I had to dress up even for the Muklawa.

Wearing the beautiful necklace with my name on it in Urdu, I stared at my reflection in the mirror, smiling lightly. Musa would be here soon, and I was feeling excited.

As I ran a brush through my hair, my phone buzzed. I glanced down at it as it was placed on the dressing table.

<Musa: We're going to Khwabpur tomorrow. Lubna Aunty and Dilawar Uncle have invited us for a dawat.>

A smile spread over my face reading that message.

Tomorrow we were going to the place where we had met and had fallen in love, as husband and wife. It was an experience I had been looking forward to. I turned to look at my camera bag. "Right. Prepare yourself. We're going back to our favourite place." 

*

Another light chapter...makes you wonder where the drama is, huh? 🤔

Khwabpur is like a major place in this story, so trips there are guaranteed.

How will their trip there go as a newly married couple?

Thoughts and comments?

Thank you for reading and don't forget to vote!