It's not all Roses

Wedding day

Zaynab

I am not sure if I can say it is exactly how I imagined it would be.

For one the groom is taking longer than the bride. The arrival of baraat is supposed to be at 5 and Talha's family was here at 6, not too late for a Pakistani wedding.

His bride, Sameen, too had reached some time after that. She is poised at the comfortable looking plush purple sofa in her highly uncomfortable lehnga. She seems to not have noticed that her majaazi khuda to be is nowhere to be seen.

But the guests have started making comments now. Their accusing eyes dart towards the larkay walay.

The hall is a buzzing mix of guilty apologies and grumbling stomachs. That and the kids running everywhere, bored waiters in the corners, the event manager shooting warning looks to a bunch of uncles , the uncles shiftily glancing at their watches and making phone calls and hours of listless waiting has started to give me a headache now.
I excuse myself from my group, a pleasantly misfit looking gathering of college students, and make my way outside the hall. Solemnly ignoring the glances from random aunties and dudes I feel slightly offended of how uncomfortable they make me. I am mentally making a note of writing a full blown take down article on wedding season. I realize I am being harsh again and stop myself. In my bitterness I have taken myself across the gigantic shaadi hall which is decorated with God knows how many fairy lights.

I am somewhere near another adjacent hall. It is mostly secluded except a few staff members roaming around the entrance. I walk farther and farther away as quickly as I can without stumbling. Heels are a part of punishment package in this dunya I believe.

Outside, the sky is a murky gray. I can see goosebumps on my arms. Just this afternoon I thought the heat would have killed me. The weather has been particularly playful today. I secretly hope for a thunderstorm and showers of rain before snubbing myself for wishing that on my friend's wedding. I zip open my purse fishing for the lighter when my phone starts buzzing. I squint at the screen, these lenses are no good.

Toad calling, it says.
'Oh my God, where are you?'
....

'TALHA? Can you hear me?'
...

'Helloo?'

...

I hear a faint sob and then the line goes dead. I try calling again but the number is switched off.
I open our chat on whatsapp.

'Get your ass here, already! It's YOUR SHAADI!!'

'It's okay if it is overwhelming.' I type again and send it. The texts are not received.

Shit.

Without even noticing I have smoked half of a cigarette. I throw it away and light a fresh one as I wait for his response. A knot is forming in my chest. Suddenly the silver lehnga feels as heavy as my halloween armour last October. I tell myself to not worry, he is around. He won't do this to Sameen.
At least I hope so.
---------

Talha

It's half past 8 and I am still not there. I should just let them believe something horrible happened to me and I am lying in a ditch, dead to ashes.

I am crying again, I wipe my tears and reverse the car. She is still standing there, smoking and texting. She looks up at the voice of engine but I am too far away and the car is not mine.
It belongs to the uber driver knocked unconcious in the backseat. Poor chap.

I could have rented a car or took my father's. I could have borrowed a car from someone.

There is no point in going down that lane of thought now. Besides all these options would have led me to more trouble. Not that drugging an uber driver was a walk in the park.
Oh dear God, what have I done.

I could just walk in right now and everything will be alright. I won't have to deal with this anxious feeling growing in the pit of my stomach. I could walk in there and be celebrated and showered with rose petals. Quite literally.

I switch on my phone and scroll through the countless notifications .

3 missed calls, 2 unread texts from Churail.

I am sorry, I can't do this.

My head is still buzzing with ridiculous scenarios. I look at the decorative building one last time. I am so glad I do because this one head tilt saves me from a disaster.

Because I see her walking towards the car.

Hair all blowing in the wind, smeared makeup, lehnga flying in every which way. A churail indeed.

Her pace is quicker now and her head shoots right at me.

Oh no.

****

Translation
(Because I can't not use Urdu words. They are much catchier.)

Shaadi : Wedding

Majaazi Khuda : Husband

Larkay walay : The groom's family

Dunya : World

Churail : Witch

(Drop a vote if you liked the chapter. Let me know what you think in the comments.)