She was like a butterfly in spring. Flying from one garden to the next with her face pulled in a bright smile.
He was like a lonely Eagle. Soaring through the winds at high speeds, looking for happiness.
Life threw curveball on curveball in her path...
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J A H A N - A R A was ecstatic to see Hoor. It had been quite a few days since her daughter had visited them. With Ali's death, the home had become empty, desolate. Her heart filled with a pain unlike any she had faced in her life before. To see your son pass away, in your hands, is trauma she would not even wish upon her worst enemy. Losing Ali had taught her to appreciate what she had. And she had a beautiful daughter, Hoor.
Jahan-ara, realised how foolish it had been of her and Jamal to belive a random woman, when they were the ones who had raised Hoor and knew the kind of person she was. Thankfully, their daughter was a kind hearted woman. Forgiving them the moment they asked for forgiveness.
As she stirred the ladle in the pot of sawiyan, she could not help but curse the virus that had spread. Hatred for the government also bubbling out. To her it was unnecessary to put so many restrictions. Her only child had refused to visit, for she was not taking any chances to infect her. While Jahan-ara was touched by the love she was being shown by Hoor, she was not really enjoying the loneliness. Her husband, proving to be a boring man, who had reduced himself to playing that age old snake game in his phone.
She smacked her lips, gulping a glass of cold water. Her maroon lipstick staining the rim of the glass. "Jamal sahab, Hoor ka pata karein. Kidhr rah gai hain woh log?" She huffed. Jamal sighed, he had just entered the home, bringing with him fresh, crisp and calories filled puri and halva. "Ji begun pata kia hai. Bas pohanchnay walay hain," he smiled at her.
Jamal grabbed the plates that his wife had brought in her jahez, wiping them down before placing them on their dining table. Thankfully, it was a pleasant weather. Otherwise it would have been impossible to eat out.
Jahan-ara followed behind him, bringing the food out. Covering the dishes with lids to protect from any persistent fly.
No sooner had the elderly couple set the table, the bell rang. Signalling that their guests were here. "Jain darwaza kholkar aain," Jahan-ara pushed Jamal. Heading into their room to draw on her thin brows and ensure that the lipstick had not faded.
"Assalamualikum!" Hoor's excited and cheery voice sounded through their home. Making her mother relived. The happiness in her voice a tell tale sign of how much peace and tranquility had filled her life. "Waalikumassalam," Jahan-ara exited their bedroom. Mustafa greeted her too, lowering his head allowing his mother-in-law to run her hands through his hair. Giving him her prayers.
"Chalo bacho, ajaopehlaynashtakarlo," Jamal smiled. Jahan-ara had taken over Hoor, gushing about how beautiful she looked. Forgetting the fact that they had come over for breakfast, and not lunch. "Han han jaldiaao". Jahan-ara pushed them to the table. Codling over them like a mother hen.
