The story of a Pakistani girl born in a desi middle class household. Being part of the society that believes Fair is Lovely, Madiha has a hard time settling with her brown skin and ordinary looks.
All her mother wants, like every other desi mother...
Fluffy white clouds adorned the grey-indigo, at 6:45 am in the morning. The lazy sun, was sighted rising slowly in the east, filling the horizon with its gentle orange hues lightening the winter sky.
Crows squawked and sparrows, chirped energetically, feathers puffed up to conserve the heat as they hoped branch to branch.
Chilly December air came baring secrets of the neighborhood, rattling the glass ever so softly as they whispered against the window panes. Rustling the near by branches, eliciting a howl of disagreement as they were made to sway against their will.
......
Thick socks clad feet, halfway out of the slippers shuffled into the kitchen and Washma pushed up the sleeves of her cashmere cardigan before lighting up the stove.
"Hayeee... Sardii... " mumbling lowly, she rubbed her hands together upon the gas, unfreezing her fingers then placed the sauce pan filled with water to boil.
(Ahhh...Winterr...)
It was her morning routine after Fajr to make coffee for herself and her husband. Then they would enjoy it together in bed before the day started.
In the busy day... A few moments for themselves. Keeps the love alive.
........
Just as she was beginning to pour the frothy mixture into the marble mugs, their bell rung, sound of *ding *ding resonating with in the silent kitchen.
"Hayiii Allah! Yeh Babblu ko kitnaa bolaa hai keh chabi le ke jaya karo bhai... Jo baghna dorna hai karo! .. Lekin nhi.. " She groaned at the thought of having to walk to the main door in the cold.
