Madiha Shah, a young woman from a middle-class family, finds her life unexpectedly entangled with the illustrious Zafar Shah Abraar, a prominent business magnate in India and the elder brother of her betrothed, Zahid.
As fate would have it, unforese...
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The next morning, Madiha skipped through the stairs, her white dupatta flowing behind her. She reached the breakfast table, just in time.
"I am sorry, I overslept." She said and sat down. Everybody shrugged it as it was no big deal.
She scanned the table and filled her plate with all the unhealthy options she could find: waffles, whipped cream, berries, and scones. Zafar, silently eating his poached eggs with coffee, eyed her plate and mentally noted his future wife's preferences. He also noticed how she was still wearing the ring, and how his name was shining in dark-red color on her henna filled hands.
After eating, Madiha was taken back to her room by her female cousins as she had to start getting ready for the haldi.
"Zafar, you should get ready as well." Almaas said.
"Why?"
"It is your haldi as well, son."
"No, Maa sahib. I don't want people putting that turmeric paste on me." He scrunched his nose.
Almaas pinched his cheek. "You don't get a choice, sweetheart. Go and wear something white."
"Maa Sahib.." He tried his luck one more time.
But Almaas was never the one to back down. "Go."
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Madiha, wearing a yellow suit, was sitting on the swing which was decorated for the haldi function. She looked side-eyed at Zafar, who looked like he was uncomfortable.
Sabina and Almaas came forward to start the function by applying turmeric paste on the bride and groom.
Then, one by one, everyone started to complete the ritual. Eventually, both Madiha and Zafar's faces were completely smeared. He was trying very hard to sit there without showing his discomfort, but he couldn't hide it from her.
So she called her mother. "Maa, I think everyone has done applying the paste. Can I go and wash up?"
"But, beta.." Sabina tried to make her understand.
"Please, this is really itchy. I don't want any infections before the wedding." She lied.
"Okay," Sabina nodded. "Go, wash off. Zafar, son, you also go."
With a relieved sigh, he stood up and both of them started walking towards their respective room.
"Thank you." He said to her before they parted ways.
Those little words of appreciation from him left her smiling the entire day.
The next day, Madiha woke up feeling jittery. It was her wedding day. Her big day. The day that was going to change the course of her life. She was anyway worried about becoming the daughter-in-law of the Abraar family. But now, she was not going to be just any daughter-in-law. She was going to be the eldest daughter-in-law of the khandaan. She was going to be the wife of the business tycoon Zafar Shah Abraar. The man who was known as the beast of the corporate industry, whose name was enough to send shivers down people's spine. Now, she was embarking on a journey to marry this man, knowing that she would have to share the same room with him for the rest of her life. This realization sent a swarm of nervous butterflies fluttering in her stomach.
Her mother brought her breakfast in her room which she had half-heartedly, since she was too nervous to eat but also didn't want to pass out during the nikah.
Around noon, two makeup artists and a hairdresser arrived. Madiha had showered by then, so she wore the kurta of the wedding attire and sat down to get her makeup and hair done.
It took almost two and half hours to do that. The wedding jewelry was all real gold. Madiha had never seen so much gold at once, and she feared she'd lose them. One of the helpers helped her to get inside the very heavy garara. Then the mangtika, head passa and the nath were made to wear. Finally they settled the dupatta on her head.
When Madiha saw herself in the mirror, she couldn't recognize herself. She looked so different, so mature. She had never been able to imagine her plain-self as the bahu of the Abraar family, but today, surprisingly, she looked just that.
"It is time." Sabina came to inform. She admired her daughter with tears in her eyes.
A red dupatta was placed over her head to hide her face, and then she was taken down, where the nikah was taking place.
Zafar, dressed in a white sherwani with golden zardozi work on his neck and a white turban on his head, was waiting on the stage for his bride to arrive. And boy, was she worth the wait. When his eyes fell on her walking towards him, he actually felt his breath hitching. Even though her face was covered with a net dupatta, he could see how ethereal she looked.
Madiha was made to sit in front of Zafar, with a curtain of white flowers between them.
"Shall I start?" The moulvi asked.
Almaas nodded. "Yes, please."
"Madiha Shah, daughter of Rahim Shah, with fifty lakh rupees as mahr, do you accept your marriage with Zafar Shah Abraar, son of Shahnawaz Shah Abraar?"
Madiha clutched her mother's hands. "I do."
The moulvi repeated it two more times, and she replied in affirmation. Then the same question was asked to Zafar thrice, which he accepted as well. The nikahnama was given to Madiha along with a pen. With shivering hands, she signed it. Zafar, on the other hand, signed it with confident strokes.
Everyone raised their hands to make dua for the newly wedded couple to make them have a peaceful marriage.
Almaas kept a hand on Zafar's shoulder and nudged him to go to his bride.
He stood up, moved the flower curtains aside with both his hands and stepped in front of his wife. He held the red dupatta and pushed it up to reveal her face. She nervously looked up. As their eyes clashed, he couldn't help but sigh at contentment.
He brought his hands down from her head and kept his palms open in front of her. She, still shivering a bit, placed both her soft hands in his big ones. He helped her stand up. They had a height difference of five to six inches, so she had to tilt her head back in order to meet his gaze.
Lost in their mutual admiration, their hands intertwined, a cameraman seized the opportunity to capture their genuine moment, ensuring that it would be preserved for eternity as a cherished memory.
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I am sick. Mujhe shaadi fever hua hai!
I might not like or reply, but I swear I am reading every comment you guys are leaving. So please, don't stop.
