ONISM (rewriting)

last chapter (pt II)

I think it was the smell that woke me up.

Not the sun creeping in through the curtains. Not any noise. Just... that smell. Something warm and soft. Something that felt like it was cooked not just in the kitchen but straight out of someone's care.

I sat up and rubbed my face. My kurta was all wrinkled.

My feet touched the cold floor, and I didn't even put on my slippers. I walked through the hallway with half-shut eyes, hair probably a mess, inner excitement sprouting like it knew something good was waiting ahead. And then I saw her.

Sanha.

In the kitchen. Alone. Her sleeves rolled up, her back slightly bent as she stirred something in the pot. Her hair tied in that usual loose way, dupatta barely hanging on one side. She was humming something under her breath. Or maybe it was just the sound of her presence.

I don't know.

Like I didn't want to break it - this little quiet moment of hers.

She hadn't seen me yet. And I think that was my favourite part - that she wasn't doing it to impress.

"Smells heavenly."

She gasped, turning halfway with a small frown. "You weren't supposed to be up yet!"

I smiled. "You cooked me out of bed."

She blinked, a little taken aback, smiled, then looked down quickly towards the pot.

I took a few steps forward. The closer I got, the warmer it felt. Not just from the stove. But from her. From this whole... feeling.

"You know," I said, voice lower now, "no one's ever done this for me. Just gotten up before me. Made breakfast without me evening asking for it." I took her face in my palm. Her baby hair was clinging to her forehead due to small beads of sweat. I know the weather change between Pakistan and Canada was drastic, yet she was trying her best to accustom herself to every bit of change. The run to the shopping mall to get her some stitched summer dresses when we opened her suitcase and there were multiple velvet, jamawar and cotton dresses but none in the lawn. It was a pleasant memory.

She didn't say anything, only her gaze fell down. "But every woman does that for her man."

"Trust me, not every woman."

"It's bare minimum."

"Making nihari in the early hours is anything but bare minimum."

She slowly detached herself from me and turned towards the stove. I wasn't giving up this easily either. I hugged from the backside and crisscrossed my fingers in front of her belly. "You're having a grand opening of your 'old home', I should've made you a feast for that reason. Keeping the above statement in mind, I cooked Nihari."

"Such a beautiful morning. Isn't it?"

"You're going to achieve which you once dreamt of."

I nodded over her shoulder. "And the sketch you had is now a reality standing proudly at an hour's distance from us."

"Only because of you."

"Only because you were there for me."

She shook her head. I backed away to give her space to lay some dishes on the table. "If it were someone else. She would've done a lot more for you."

"Ok, enough. Bas." I held her hands and stood in front of her. "Don't run yourself down. Negative remarks about oneself are often passively registered in your brain. Don't feed yourself what's not even 1 per cent close to the truth." I wetted my lower lip. "You're more than enough for me."

A small smile took over her face. And just for a brief second, the sadness in her eyes subsided, pure bliss floated in her deep raven orbs, and suddenly, I felt a wave of pride rush through me for being  a thoughtful husband.

"What's this?" I slid a finger down her cheek. "Why is it glowing and not blushing?"

"It's highlighter." She slapped my hand away.

"Oh, begam sahiba got ready for me." I kissed her shoulder.

"I got ready to work in the kitchen." She shrugged me off. I couldn't help but admire the shyness radiating from her, the sublte pushing me away, then heaving in a deep breath and pulling her duapatta up until her hairline. Then she turned away from me. "Bring rottis."

"Have you tired Peshawar's famous Roghni naan?"

She looked dead straight in my eyes. "It's my first time here, Yawar. How do you expect me to have tried anything already."

"Ya, right! I'd have to make a run to Qissa-khawani bazar. It's only twenty minutes on drive from us."

"Is there no other shop in the nearby?"

"Hay na! But the one in Qissa-khawani is the best. The best wife needs to try the best naan. No?"

There was a bell, and I gave up on the previous chat with her abruptly. "I have something for you," i wiggled my eyebrows, "but before that, I've got to answer the door first."

I thanked the rider, took the flowers, and cake from him. Handed him the money. "Goodness, someone sent us flowers."

"Really, who?" I heard her from the kitchen.

I placed the cake box right outside the kitchen on the floor and held the bouquet of flowers against my chest, like how you hold a baby.

"Aray wah!" Once I was in the frame of her vision, these words rolled out of her mouth. "These flowers are beautiful!" An excited smile reached her lips. "There must be a tag or something attached to it." She let go of ladle and took the flowers from me.

She gasped, stared at me with a straight face, and then shook her head, smiling now. I gave her a goofy grin. The card said, 'to the Saturn of my universe, from your Titan.'

"Well, special days as these are incomplete without flowers. I got something else as well." I lifted up my forefinger to make her wait and fetched the cake in. When I removed the lid, it was a little scraped off from the sides. I corrected it with my finger. 'One milestone achieved, many more to come' was scribbled on the top.

"We don't have to eat it right now. I just want you to cut it."

She was unsure when I forwarded her the knife. Then she took it. "Why me? You put in all the hard work."

"Because I want you to, and no, I didn't put in all the hard work. There were so many people who worked way harder than me. Now please will you?" I pointed  at the cake.

"Sure." She cut a slice and then lifted up a small bite with the knife just enough for both of us to taste.

She placed her hands on her hips. "Your efforts for us make mine one so small. I mean, the dish I made here is just average."

"That's for me to decide."

I could see clear anxiety on her face.

"Someone told me once, a woman makes the food delicious with her love and not with her skills."

She nodded, a smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

The End

Hey, everyone. This book finally ends. I hope all of you liked it. Thank you for sticking by. I wish best for each and every one of you.

-S

IG| @ author_muntaha