
Birthday?
The thudding of footsteps grew louder. Irritated, Yawar turned slightly in his bed, just in time to see the door fly open.
A pink blur shot in, handbag swinging like a weapon. Before he could say a word, something smacked against his nose — a chocolate?
"What even—?" He rubbed his nose, glaring. "Are you crazy?"
Kanwal stood there. “Isn’t it your birthday?”
“No. I mean — yes. But what’s with the ambush?”
She rolled her eyes dramatically. “Grumpy as ever. Just say thanks.” Then, added, “Khair, I’m waiting downstairs.”
He didn’t even have the energy to reply. She disappeared before he could recover.
---
He came down a little later, fixing his wristwatch, and found her in the kitchen, chatting away while helping Umaima with the breakfast trays like she owned the place. Typical.
Both of his sworn sisters were whispering and then giggling about something. He hoped it wasn’t related to him. But it seemed like it was. The moment he stepped into the kitchen, both of them fell silent. Suspicion stirred in his chest.
“Yawar Bhai?” Umaima called once she placed the tray on the table. He was still leaning against the doorframe. He looked at her in question.
It took a few seconds before he noticed — along with the teapot and omelette, there was something else as well. A small box wrapped in shiny pink paper.
“Happy birthday.” She smiled politely.
He slowly inhaled, trying to wrap his head around the situation. Once his brain grasped what was going on, he stepped forward and gave her a side-hug.
“You’re only grumpy for me,” Kanwal rolled her eyes.
“She isn’t inhuman like you,” he teased back, and she rolled her eyes again.
During breakfast, she announced she was leaving early. Something about sneaking out and not telling anyone.
Again — typical.
She was gone before he’d even sat down properly.
---
Later that evening, after wrapping up a chaotic workday, Yawar slumped into the sofa and pulled out his phone. A new text blinked on the screen:
“Hello. Do come here at dinner.”
He didn’t need a name. The authoritative tone was enough. Dadi.
He sighed.
---
He nudged open Dadi’s room door slowly.
“Boo!”
She flinched, placing a hand over her heart. He broke into laughter.
“So that was you, hmm?” she said, narrowing her eyes.
He grinned, unrepentant. “Had to test your reflexes.”
She reached out to swat his arm.
“But you were way quicker to react than I thought,” he said, dodging, pretending to wipe imaginary tears.
“You better grow up,” she muttered. “I’m looking for a girl for you here, and look at you!”
Her smile lingered for a second too long — touched by something softer, something rare. That smile matched his father’s. Exactly.
“I’m not getting married,” he declared. “Not ever.”
“You think you can run away from it?”
“Well, maybe… if you find someone like you.”
She raised a brow.
He elbowed her. “I’ve read Dada’s poetry, you know. It talks about how beautiful you were.”
She slapped his arm again. “Kids these days are shameless.”
---
Dinner was loud, warm, and full of the usual chaos. Everyone wished him a happy birthday. Zain and Kanwal already had a plan for later — something Kanwal had sneakily orchestrated. She didn’t even try to hide it. A whole birthday setup was probably waiting somewhere out there, glitter and unnecessary drama.
He caught her grinning across the table, saying nothing but knowing everything.
“So, Shayan’s mother found a girl for him,” Dadi said, sipping her tea. “The engagement’s in two days. I wish him a happy life ahead.”
“Yes, Ami Jan, he’s a gentleman,” added his aunt, nodding. “His wife would surely be lucky.”
He started eating faster. Zain caught on. Kanwal, too. They exchanged the kind of glances that clearly said: get up now before this turns into a shaadi intervention.
But he wasn’t quick enough.
“Our kids are, Ma Shaa’Allah, growing up so fast,” Dadi said, looking straight at him.
He smiled awkwardly, pretending like he didn’t know exactly what she meant.
“I think we should find a suitable girl for him,” she added thoughtfully, peering into her teacup like she saw signs floating inside it.
Allah knows what was running in her mind.
Zain scoffed. Kanwal bit her lip to hide her laugh, head bowed.
He glared at both of them.
Idiots.
Salam🦋
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ESTÁS LEYENDO
ONISM (rewriting)
EspiritualONISM// awareness of how little of the world you will experience. This book is dedicated to those who aren't sure about what is happening in their life, who don't know where they're heading. But they are carrying on because they have left everyth...
