"You're going to be my present and my future. You're going to hold all my babies because I'm going to be the lucky man to marry you. You're going to love me again, Maryam Khan. Slowly and then all together. And I will watch you as you do."
Imran and...
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"Salam, salam, salam!" I chant, stepping in through the front door of my heavenly abode, the Khan Manzil.
Kicking my sandals off, I unwrap my hijab and take the claw clip off my hair, letting it fall free on my shoulders. My simple plain black abaya is the next thing that comes off, followed by my bag.
"Ammi, what's for lunch? Mujhe bhook--" Spinning on my heel, I freeze to find 4 pairs of gazes fixed on me. Staring. Hard. And, from the look on their faces, definitely judging me.
My mom sat on the edge of the large sofa set which accommodated 3 other aunties. One of which was Ammi's friend, Tahera, or perhaps the one who always has her eyes searching for suitable boys and girls. Yup, she was the rishte wali aunty who undoubtedly had another 'very suitable' rishta for me.
Again.
An elaborated sigh leaves my mouth.
I don't even have to spare a glance at the other two ladies to know they are my potential husband's mother and a sister/aunt. Fingers pushing back my shoulder-length hair. I take slow steps toward them and sit right in the center of the couch so everybody can have a look at me. Or I can look at everyone's face while I do my thing.
Again.
Before saying a word, I meet Ammi's gaze which only meant one thing. Do not cross the line.
I blow a breath, reaching for the plate of Osmania biscuits and grab one, before getting comfortable in my place.
Mere baap ka ghar hai, after all.
"Assalamalaikum," I greet them like a good child, showing the manners taught by my parents. "Main Maryam Khan, Asra Unnisa Begum ki beti."
"Walaikumsalam," Came their response, which was followed by silence.
The two ladies sat adjacent to me, one with a black shawl and the other in a maroon one. I run my gaze casually over them, taking in the sarees they wore under their shawls. The bright lipstick and gold nose rings along with their henna-stained fingernails. On a closer look, I could make out their Fair and Lovely coated faces. The strong scent that came from them, confirmed it.
"Aapki tareef?" I ask.
(And you are?)
"Maryam beta, ye dulhe ki mami hai aur ye khala." Tahera khala introduces us, causing me to roll my eyes internally.
(Maryam dear, they are the groom's aunts.)
"Khala, pehle to ye, ke abhi baat taye nahi hui. To koi Dulha dulhan bolne ki zaroorat nahi hai." I announce, before locking my gaze at the pair of ladies. "Doosri baat, aapka bhanja ya bhateeja jo koi bhi hai, kiya hai?"
