His Little Neighbour

nine

"Qubool hai"

"Qubool hai"

"Qubool hai"

Mashal shut her eyes close as a drop of tear rolled down her cheeks. Her throat felt dry as she lifted her shaky hands to sign on the nikkah nama, the Islamic wedding contract. Her father ran his hands through her head as he placed a kiss on her head. All her close relatives congratulated each other. Her mother and sister were happy yet sad. It was an overwhelming and bittersweet evening.

She was a married woman now. Her heart skipped a beat at that thought. A shy and content smile played on her lips but yet the tears continued to flow. The moment was truly one of a kind. She sniffed sadly as all her cousins came up to her, giving her warm smiles and congratulations.

They could hear the loud cheers and happy laughter from the men's side as well. He said yes. The thought left her smiling in between her tears. They were married. Murat Saeed was her husband. She now could stare at him all she wants and do so much more. For a second, Mashal couldn't breathe but she did. It felt so heartwarming and emotional.

"I'm so happy for you," Duaa, her cousin gushed in excitement. She was four years older than her and was happily married.

"I'm the happiest," Meher joined them both, "aapi is married but she is just moving right across the street. How amazing, right?" She hugged her sister tightly, "I'll trouble you every day even after marriage." The way she said it so adorably with so much love, made Mashal hug her back tightly.

"Don't cry."

The time seems to blur in oblivion. As everyone congratulated each other and the imam made dua for their happy married life. Mashal's heartbeats rose frantically as she felt someone's footsteps towards her. The wedding hall turned awfully quiet for a second as everyone's eyes were fixed on her and her husband. The word felt so alien to her as she thought about it, which made her cheeks turn a deep crimson.

The first thing Murat did was stare at her face with a dark look in his eyes. The kind of look that made her toes curl, he was so open with his admiration for her. He stared at her like she was the prettiest girl alive and that made her feel all giddy. He placed his hands on top of her head and read a dua, which the grooms traditionally read when they first see their new wife, at least in their families they did. It was a sunnah. A chorus of awes and hooting erupted from the youngsters making her turn red as if she wasn't blushing enough already. She gazed down at her palms as he came a little forward and blew air on her forehead as he finished reading the dua.

"You look breathtaking, Mrs Murat Saeed," He whispered sweetly only for her to hear and stood straight. Everyone had happy smiles on their faces. Mashal felt the whole zoo was running inside her stomach. The first words from her husband and she was already swooning over him. He was charming, alright.

Mashal bit her lips as he forwarded his hands towards her. He was supposed to take her to the main stage, they'd click family photos and do the ruksathi. That's about it. She was supposed to start a whole new life from today. And the very thought made her freak out from within. She felt nervous suddenly. Her eyes began to water but she held them back before giving him her hands.

They both stilled as the hands came in contact. She could feel it. Those goosebumps. Was he planning on killing her by just be holding her hand? Damn her heart. Why was it pounding so fast?

Murat's hand was so huge in comparison with hers. It was very cold and her hand fit so perfectly into his like they were made for him to hold. She stood up at once and tugged at his arms, signing him to halt. He raised his brows at her, she eyed her ice blue, netted chiffon dupatta. That was stuck on the chair on which she sat. It had the prettiest golden border, her favourite part of this dress.