#47 The Absha Wedding

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Assalamualaikum wa rahmatullahi wa barakatuhu!

So here's part two of the double update promised by Juni. I'm aware that I'm late and I'm truly sorry for that. That being said I felt a whole new level of emotional highs and lows as I wrote this chapter. Ayesha as a character means a lot to me as in I envision the elder sister I never had.

Not boring you guys more with an extended author's note. Enjoy.

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#47 The Absha Wedding

All those months we talked of a wedding finally coming to Ashiana never did full justice to the day of Di’s Nikkah. The day before we had no functions, but all the hustle and bustle made it look like we were hardly prepared. Shoaib Bhai’s room was locked and all the workers were sent away for a week. But we still had electricians and decorators all around the house. It was madness. Someone putting floral décor in the top floor dropped a basket of flowers all the way down to the canopy of fairy lights and jasmine strands that was set up in the courtyard. A section of it was ruined and had to be redone.

That was not the only damage. Clothes went missing, Chachi lost the key to the safe in Dadi's room and panic ensued, only to find that it was tied up to an end of her dupatta all the time we wasted combing the house down. In her frazzled state of nerves Annu ended up breaking some fine china cups, she kept apologizing for the same until Sumi Phuppi scolded her to silence. Let’s not even get into a discussion of what a mess the kitchen was.

The calm amidst this storm was Dadi and Di was told to stay with her and not venture out unless called for. It was in Di’s nature to not sit still though. Every time I passed through Dadi’s room she offered to help me with the chores. I had to blackmail her to get her to stop.

‘Di if you keep offering to help me out, I will not talk to you,’ I said as I deposited Dadi’s freshly pressed salwar kameez in her wardrobe.

‘But Juni...’

‘No buts Di. Dadi, please knock some sense into your granddaughter.’

I caught Dadi smirking as Di slumped down next to her. She was trying to escape the torture that our dear khalas and chachis and mamis were inflicting on her with their chatter. She was blushing red when one of them made a bawdy joke about her and Abrar Jiju. While it was inappropriate, the expression of mixed horror and embarrassment that Di put on was hilarious.

On D-day, after we prayed Maghrib together, Iqra Di and I kicked out everyone from Di’s room and helped her dress up. Once she put on the shararas and the top, Iqra Di worked on Di’s hair while I started her makeup. Di didn’t want anything over the top, so I kept it simple with a wash of colour on her cheeks, a little tint for her lips and a some shimmer on her eyes. As Iqra Di adjusted the a multi stranded necklace of emeralds and pearls, Di put on the matching earrings.

Just before Di wrapped the off white satin finish hijab, Sumi Phuppi and the other ladies of our family came to see her, even Dadi had come up.

‘Aww Nani you need not have climbed up the stairs, I would have come down to see you,’ Di said as she stood up to hug Dadi.

‘Ma sha Allah! Barak Allahu Feeki, may Allah protect you from evil eyes. You look beautiful beta,’ Dadi said with moist eyes. Mom and Chachi and Razi Phuppi smiled in agreement and even Jaad was giggling and clapping his hands.

‘Abrar and the men from his family have reached. The Nikkah will begin soon,’ Phuppi said kissing Di’s forehead.

On hearing that, Di’s nerves returned in full force. Her hands shook as she struggled to put on her hijab. After Iqra Di and helped her don the dupatta with the beautiful pearls attached, she grabbed both our hands in a death grip. She only let go of our hands once to hug Jaad and give him a peck. Then she took our hands and didn’t let go. Her vice like hold hurt me, but I didn’t mention it.

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