A Little Tangled Up

13 | The Uninvited Guest

Humayrah sat on the bed, her heart racing and her fingers trembling as she nervously tugged at the edge of her dupatta. Every tick of the clock amplified the silence, suffocating her in a haze of worry.

Suddenly, laughter echoed from the hallway, snapping her out of her thoughts. The loud banter of Mikaal's cousins filled the air, their teasing voices full of mischief. Her breath caught in her throat as the door creaked slightly.

"Mikaal, bohot jaldi nahi tumhe andar jane ki, ruk jao!" someone teased, and the door that had begun to open closed again. Humayrah let out the breath she'd been holding, placing a hand over her racing heart.

(Mikaal, isn’t it too soon for you to go inside? Hold on!)

Outside, Mikaal's cousins blocked his way, demanding the customary gift before allowing him to enter. Only after he had paid them did they finally clear the path.

"Bohot bohot shukriya," Mikaal's voice reached her as the door opened once again.

(Thank you very much,)

"Tumhe bohot jaldi hai, Mikaal," someone called from behind, followed by a burst of laughter from the group.

(You're in such a hurry, Mikaal,)

"Ab sab chalo, bheed mat lagao," another voice urged, and the group dispersed, though not without a few offering Mikaal playful words of encouragement.

(Now, everyone go, don’t crowd around,)

Mikaal only entered the room once he was sure everyone had left. As he stepped inside, the first thing his eyes landed on was Humayrah, sitting on the bed with her veil drawn low over her face, waiting for him. For a second, Mikaal froze, then with a sigh, he quietly shut the door and locked it.

The sound of the lock clicking made Humayrah look up. Her patience, already thin, finally gave way as she spoke, her voice laced with sarcasm. "Here you are, husband." Her mocking smile did not escape Mikaal’s notice, but he chose to ignore it, heading towards the wardrobe to change.

"Main yaha tumhare liye itna taiyyar hoke baithi hoon aur tum mujhe dekhoge bhi nahi?" Humayrah stepped down from the bed and followed him, the soft jingle of her anklets and bangles filling the room.

(I’m sitting here all dressed up just for you, and you’re not even going to look at me?)

"Humayrah, kya ho gaya hai?" Mikaal asked wearily as he pulled out his nightwear. The day had been exhausting, and he didn’t have the energy to argue with her now.

(Humayrah, what’s the matter?)

"Kya ho gaya hai? Tumhe nahi pata kya hua hai? Tamasha banke reh gayi hai meri zindagi. Yeh shadi, yeh sab rasmein, har larki ka khwab hota hai lekin mere liye yeh sab drama hai."

(What’s the matter? Don’t you know what’s wrong? My life has turned into a joke. This wedding, all these rituals, every girl dreams of this, but for me, it’s all a drama.)

"Gun point pe nahi rakha tha apko nikkah ke liye." Mikaal had grown tired of her unwarranted bitterness. They were both in this mess together, and it was her actions that had caused all of it. Yet, she acted as though she were the only one suffering.

(No one held you at gunpoint for the marriage.)

"Did I have any other choice?"

"Exactly, there was no other option. So stop acting like you're the only victim here." Mikaal’s frustration was evident, but he wasn’t in the mood for a fight, so he tried to end the conversation.