The Dawn Is On Us

C H A P T E R 2 5

S T A R I N G at the streets that whizzed by as the car gained momentum, Hoor's eyes began to collect tears. The dam that had seldom stopped since she exited her childhood home, now broke all barriers. As sobs wrecked through her body, shaking her tiny form. As the streets began to pass by, the realisation of never returning back began to dawn on her. The pain of her parent's weak faith in her began to settle, giving way to more thoughts about the sheer humiliation that she had faced.

Since Hoor was but a wee girl, her parents had instilled the centuries old traditional thoughts in her. She was always taught that her parent's respect depended on her actions. That she could make or break them infront of society. Hoor had seen parents treat their daughters in a cruel manner, discriminating against them. Holding sons closer to their hearts. That was one point where her parents were different. For them both her and Ali were equals. They were treated in the same way. Or that was what she had believed in her naive heart.

Today, the harsh reactions of her parents that were given birth to as a result of photographical evidence, made it all clear. To them Ali was still closer. To them he was still their bhudapay ka sahara. Otherwise he would have been treated in the same harsh manner that had befallen her. Was "adultery" not a sin as great gambling? If she was to remember anything by their reactions, it was not. Or perhaps it was because she was the daughter.

Her hands played with the clasp of the bag. Locking and unlocking it. Trying to stimulate her brain and ease her nerves. She knew the longer she thought about the matter, the more she would worry about it. She wanted to forget all the pain that had made home in her chest. Her eyes steered away from the window of the car. The passing trees losing their charm on her. Instead, her eyes turned to the man that sat beside her.

Mustafa looked nothing short of a prince in his outfit. The kameez fit around his torso snugly. His biceps looked as if they were suffocated inside the fitted sleeves. His waistcoat had been unbuttoned as soon as his friend helped him sit in the car. Mustafa's head rested on the headrest, his eyes closed. He was looking handsome even in such state of despair. The long eyelashes touched his cheeks softly. His chest rising softly as he rested.

"Agar aisay dekhein gi tou hummay lagay ga aapko humse ishq ho gaya hai," Mustafa spoke with his eyes closed.
He could sense the burning gaze of the woman next to him. The floral scent that wafted from her side tingled his senses. Making it impossible for him to take any rest. The fact that such an angel was now his wife took away his chain.

Hoor immediately averted her gaze. Not sure how to feel about her husbands flirty tone.
"A-a-aisa kuch nahi hai!" Hoor denied, shying away from him.
Her gaze lowered to her henna covered hands. Observing the deep, rich maroon colour that it had developed in just a night.

Raees who was driving the car, could not help but smile. His brother was totally smitten. It was not an ideal way to marry the woman you wanted. No one wanted the woman they loved to bear the stain of an illegitimate affair. Especially when it was all a lie. He looked up into the view finder. His eyes catching the hazel eyes of his dearest brother. Raees passed him a smile, winking at him cheekily. His brother was not going to have an easy time wooing him.

K A M A L M A N S I O N, D H A, LHR
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Alia entered the home that once belonged to her best friend. She remembered all the moments that had been spent in here. All the laughs and silent cries while watching classic Indian movies. All was captured in her eyes. Running like a movie itself. Tears filled her eyes as she entered Mustafa's bedroom. She still remembered the day as if it was yesterday, she and her dear friend had fought tooth and nail with Kamal to add the built in wooden shelf unit. The glass windows that rolled back and led to the pool, were installed when a four year old Mustafa had began to show interest in swimming. A few years later, Mustafa lost his legs. To never be able to walk again. Swimming was out of the question.

She looked away from the painful reminder, instead casted her gaze on the dark mahogany bed frame, that was being covered in Jasmines. They had urgently hired decorators to come and make it feel like a house where a marriage had just occurred.
"Baaji yeh theek hai na?" One of the young boys asked her.
Showing the beautiful flower arrangement that they had done on the bed.
"Ji bhai. Bilkul theek hai," she smiled seeing the swan heart that they had made from Jasmine and Rose petals.
Raees clearly knew what he was doing when he hired these people.

Alia and Raees had planned to divert the attention of the bride and groom. Making them stay out of the home until all the preparation was completed. Raees had driven them to the infamous ice cream parlour, Coldstone. The place had the best ice cream in town, but it was expensive. Raees knew it was the perfect chance to extort money from Mustafa.

The Mercedes rolled into the luxurious villa. Stopping infront of the now heavily crowded main entrance. Alia along with Sajid were standing on the entrance. Behind them stood all the servants. Munazza and her family had arrived around thirty minutes ago, however refused to stand in wait of the bride and groom. They had nothing but insulting words to throw their way. Claiming that it was highly embarrassing of them to have a daughter-in-law like her. One who had no shame to associate herself with a man that was her fiancé's best friend.

The guards ran to open the heavy car doors. Firstly taking out Mustafa's wheel chair, helping him sit on it. Then moving to the other side, opening the door for their new mistress. Raees rolled the wheelchair towards his bhabi. Smiling at her. Hoor could do nothing but give him a reluctant smile.

In the past few hours that she had gotten to know Raees better, she realised that he was a very understanding man. Infact he was very somber and respectful of everyone's choices. He resembled Mustafa in the way that he had not judged her when the menu card of the ice cream parlour had been passed to her and she could not read a single word. He had calmly smiled. And with Mustafa's help explained it all to her.

"Bhabi aaj sai hum insay haath saaf karte hain! Yeh ab aapke huway," he moved away from Mustafa's wheelchair.
Passing the newlywed couple a cheeky smile.
"Arrey haan Hoor beta. Waisay tou mard aurat ko uskay nai ghar ki dehliz paar karwata hai, par humaray Mustafa ko tum karwao!" Sajid passed her a smile.
Hoor gave everyone a shy smile. Gripping the soft handles with a smile. She pushed the wheel chair along with carrying the weight of her heavy wedding gown.

The looked perfect. The macho man who depended on his delicate wife. The were the epitome of what a marriage was. A man maybe whatever he is in life, at the end of the day, he always needs a woman to keep him grounded. Hoor crossed the landing of the home. Entering the posh living room. Seeing the luxurious sofas and glass coffee tables, Hoor was breathless. The modern contemporary art that covered the walls aswell as the childhood portrait of Mustafa with his parents moved her to tears. She could tell from the look of pain in Mustafa's eyes as he looked at the frame that he still missed his parents.

"Aao dulhan. Beth jao," Alia led her to the double seater.
Hoor sat down, covering most of the sear with her anarkali.
"Bano chai banwao," Alia then told the maid, who looked aged.
"Bano yahan ki purani mulazima hai. Koi kaam ho tou inse keh dena dulhan," Alia smiled at Hoor.
Hoor nodded, wordlessly.
"Acha bhai, chalo ab sab apni apni salami lao," Alia told all of the guests that were present to begin the rasam.
The guests all lined up, each waiting for their own turn.

It was time for a new beginning.

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