The world outside slept in silence, but Inaya's room glowed faintly with the soft light of her prayer mat. Her delicate frame was bent in sajda, her forehead resting on the ground as unshed tears dampened the rug beneath her.
It was tahajjud time the hour when only the sincere hearts called upon their Creator.
Her lips trembled as she raised her hands, eyes glistening under the dim glow. Her voice was a whisper, yet it carried the weight of her soul.
"Ya Allah... please, haar riste walon ki tarah yeh rista bhi reject karne ka idea de dein. Ya phir woh log khud apne se hi mujhe reject kar dein. Ya Allah... please help out this last time. Please unhein koi aur ladki pasand aa jayein. Please, kuch na kuch kar ke hamesha ki tarah meri madad kar dein... Ya Allah, mujhe nahi karni hai yeh shaadi..."
Her words broke into quiet sobs, her palms trembling as she dragged them over her tear-stained face. For a long moment, she sat there in silence, letting her heart spill out before the One she trusted most.
Finally, she lowered her hands, whispering a faint Ameen. Her chest felt a little lighter, though her eyes were heavy with exhaustion.
Folding away her prayer mat, Inaya slipped back into bed. The pillow caught the traces of her tears, and within moments, sleep embraced her troubled heart.
Little did she know fate had already chosen its path.
The next morning in the Sheikh mansion began like any other. Sunlight streamed in through the tall glass windows as Mirza Ayaan Sheikh came down the grand staircase, dressed in another flawless three-piece suit, his hazel eyes sharp, expression unreadable.
The dining table buzzed lightly with the clatter of spoons and murmurs of conversation. Ayaan joined quietly, greeting with his usual calm.
"Assalamu Alaikum, Ammi... Abbu..."
"Wa Alaikum Assalam, beta," his mother replied warmly, serving him paratha and chai.
He ate silently for a while, his father reading the newspaper beside him. But midway through the meal, Ayaan suddenly set down his cup, his deep voice cutting through the quiet.
"I'm ready to marry... the girl Ammi chooses for me."
The words fell like thunder. His father, Mirza Rasheed Sheikh, choked on his tea, coughing hard. Startled, Ayaan immediately passed him a glass of water.
"Abbu, yeh lijiye... sambhaliye apne apko."
Catching his breath, Rasheed stared at his son in disbelief.
"Ayaan... tumne abhi kya kaha? Dobara bolo."
Ayaan leaned back coolly, his jaw tight, eyes unwavering.
"I don't like to repeat my words."
The tension crackled, but before it could escalate further, Ruksar quickly intervened, her face lighting up with joy.
"Mashallah, Mubarak ho!" she exclaimed, rushing to the sweet box on the table. Breaking into laughter, she held a large piece and fed it straight into Ayaan's mouth despite his mild protest, then another into Rasheed's.
"Bahu Mubarak ho!" she declared happily.
Wiping his lips with a napkin, Ayaan stood up, adjusting his cufflinks. His voice softened only for his mother.
"Ab Ammi... aap khush hain?"
Her eyes glistened with tears as she nodded, smiling.
"Bohot khush, mere bache."
Ayaan kissed her hand lightly, then stepped back.
"Acha chaliye, main chalta hoon. Allah Hafiz."
"Allah Hafiz, beta," she replied, watching him leave with a proud smile.
But as the door clicked shut, silence fell again. Rasheed still looked dazed, staring at his wife.
"Yeh kya tha, Ruksar? Yeh sab achanak...?"
Ruksar chuckled, covering her husband's hand with hers.
"Aap khana khayiye... main baad mein sab samjha dungi."
The evening silence in the Khan mansion broke when Mustafa Khan's phone buzzed. The screen flashed a familiar name: Mirza Rasheed Sheikh. With a smile, he answered.
Rasheed: "Assalamu Alaikum, Mustafa saab."
Mustafa: "Wa Alaikum Assalam, Bhaijaan. Arrey, kya haal hai?"
Rasheed: "Alhamdulillah, sab bilkul theek. Aap bataiye, sab kaisa chal raha hai?"
Mustafa: "Bas aapki dua hai, Bhaijaan. Lekin batao, iss nacheez ki yaad aaj kis khushi mein aayi?" (he chuckled lightly)
Rasheed's voice grew warmer, a hint of excitement in his tone.
Rasheed: "Haan bhai, bas yeh socha... kyun na humari dosti ko ab rishtedari mein badal dein."
For a moment, silence hung. Then Mustafa's voice burst with surprise and delight.
Mustafa: "SubhanAllah! Kya baat kar rahe ho, Bhaijaan? Arrey waah, Mubarak ho! Ab toh aap samdhi ji ban gaye."
Rasheed chuckled, his baritone carrying pride.
Rasheed: "Bilkul samdhi ji. Toh phir batayiye, kab milte hain is bare mein aur aage ki baatein final karte hain?"
Mustafa: "Kya kehna! Kal hi milte hain, samdhi ji. Zyada der karke kya faida?"
Rasheed: "Perfect. Kal hi sahi. Toh theek hai, kal
mulakat hoti hai. Chaliye, Allah Hafiz."
Mustafa: "Allah Hafiz, samdhi ji."
To be continued...