He Is The One For Me.

The decision-part One

"Come in."

The deep voice of his uncle reached his ears after ten whole years. He stepped inside, keeping his back straight and head held high. He wouldn't show any weakness to the cruel, old man. His face had not changed, he seemed not to have aged.

The pure, non-polluted air and the healthy food available in the village might have something to do with it, he thought. Apart from that his uncle had always been an active man, who did almost all of his work himself, despite the long line of servants. He glanced at his uncle's turban, neat down to it's last fold, it stood high and firm, crisply ironed.

Broad shouldered, tall and owner of a well-maintained mustache his uncle had a commanding air about him. He was a man whose appearance was enough to instil fear into your heart. If you happened to hear an account of him by one of the villagers you would know what he did to those who oppossed him.
The villagers would flinch at the mere mention of his name. To Fahad, however he was no more than an ignorant, strong brute, who was a failure as a brother. He shared his father's strong dislike for this man.

"Assalamualaikum!" Fahad said, looking straight into the judging eyes of his uncle.

"Waalaikum Asalaam"
He got his reply and was patted on his head. It was supposed to be a gesture of love-it would have been one, had his uncle's hand not been so stern and had he not straightened up quickly; both in a hurry to get it over with.

"How are you? ...and Ali?"

His fathers name was uttered with enmity. Fahad balled his fists, hating the way the dear name was said. His father had raised him well, he reminded himself and replied with respect.

"I and he are well thank you! How are you, uncle? I've already met Arfa and ummi."

"I'm well Alhamdulillah and that's good."

The cushion beside him was patted, an invitation for Fahad to get seated. Hamid Aziz both loved and hated his nephew at the same time. He had become a handsome young man, his physical strength appearant from the many muscles and six packs his well-fitted shirt show-offed. Hamid hid the pride he felt from looking at him-well. Shumaila would have been proud, he was as handsome, if not more, as she had been.
Soon Arfa and Hadiyah made their way into the room. They sat on the cushions facing his uncle. Arfa had became a beautiful young lady, much like his dear ummi. Fahad looked at his sister with great love in his eyes.

He stared at the other young girl, Arfa was sixteen, six years younger than himself. He wondered how old Hadiyah was. Having lived in a western society all his life he had fallen out of his religion. Despite his fathers best attempts to control him. Fahad had had messed up teenage years.

He dated, drank and wasted himself shamelessly. Until recently he was thought of as a bad boy, a part of a dangerous gang in Italy. He was known for his ruthlessness and physical strength; he was into mma. He had a positive turn when his father became sick.
He was the reason his father became sick actually. Parents worry themselves over their children too much. He read his father's journal one day, he had written a letter to Fahad's mother. In it he apologized for being a bad father to their son. That had some effect on Fahad, but not much, the positive effect was limited to him reducing his intake of alcohol and decreasing his girl-friend count.

Fahad looked at his uncle, waiting for him to speak.

"I have asked you all to come here because I want to announce something very important. I have made a decision and I will not take no for an answer."

He stopped to sip at his hukaa and then proceeded.

"Hadiyah you're nineteen, it it high time that you settle down with an Aziz man. I have decided on who it will be."

He ignored the sharp intake of Hadiyah's breath and the tears that gleamed at the tip of her hazel eyes.

" It will be Bakhtawar bhira's third son."

"Uncle I've never met him." She whispered.

"That's even better." Her uncle spoke venomously. She shivered at the coldness in his voice.

"Omar committed a grave mistake by marrying a non-Aziz. It's about time that I correct it, his lands that belong to you will come back to it's rightful owners."

"Uncle I never had those lands under my control." Hadiyah reminded him.

"You deserved that. Don't worry you won't have to earn for yourself anymore, Dilawar will do that for you."

Hadiyah didn't even like the sound of his name! How could she marry him? She blinked furiously to keep in the tears that threatened to wet her rosy cheeks. She had felt her Arfa tense up beside her, but she held her back by taking hold of her wrist. The last time she had defended Hadiyah, she had been slapped across her darling face. Hadiyah didn't want to see her Jan in pain again.

"I will ask moma about it, uncle."

"There will be no asking, Meha must have told your mother already."

Again he had avoided saying her mother's name. This man angered her to no end.

"I see." She said and stood up when her uncle made a dismissive gesture with one of his big hands. She left the room, followed by her cousins, with shaking lips and tears wetting her cheeks.

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