ᶻⁱⁿᵈᵃᵍⁱ ᵏᵃ ˢᵃᶠᵃʳ ᵃˢᵃᵃⁿ ⁿᵃʰⁱ,

ˡᵉᵏⁱⁿ ᵏʰʷᵃᵇ ᵈᵉᵏʰⁿᵉ ˢᵉ ᵏᵒⁱ ʳᵒᵏ ⁿᵃʰⁱ ˢᵃᵏᵗᵃ

Author's POV

In the heart of Karachi stood a three-story building with elegant, modern exteriors. Inside this house, in a quiet room, a girl lay deep in sleep on a comfy bed, lost in the world of dreams.

A book lay half open on the nightstand, while the morning light bathed the room through the curtains.

The door of the room opened, and her father entered the room with a soft smile on his face, looking at his princess, his pride, and his joy still sleeping.

He has a habit of starting his day by looking at her face. He went near the bed and took the book that was half opened, and placed a bookmark inside before setting it back on the bookshelf.

He stood at the edge of the bed and saw her and murmured, "How quickly she had grown up."

"Meerab, Beta wake up," Waqas Ahmed called her lovingly.

"Umm," she mumbled in her sleep, still busy chasing dreams.

"Meerab," he called again, smiling. Then he went to the window to remove the curtains, letting more light into the room.

"Baba, Good morning," she woke up and sat on the bed. She smiled at him. He came and sat near her on the bed.

Meerab's POV

Yes, it's me, Meerab Waqas Ahmed. And here's my Baba, Waqas Ahmed, always so loving and caring, who treats me like his princess. And yes, I am his princess-his only daughter, his pride, and his joy.

"Ah, Baba, you still wake me up like I'm a five year old girl and have to go to school. I'm grown up now, Baba, and I have already completed my MBA."

"To me, it feels like just yesterday I held you in my arms, a tiny and cute little baby," he said affectionately, his eyes filled with love. "Then you started walking, holding my finger. And now, you've suddenly grown into a young woman, and soon, I'll have to find a suitable match for you."

"No, no, please, Baba! Don't start talking like Mama about marriage and grooms."

Those are my Mama's favourite topics, and I can't stand it. I have no plans for marriage, especially not now. I'm only 22. I can enjoy a single life a little more.

"You know I have other dreams," I add quickly. "And most importantly, where's my gift?"

"Gift?" Baba says, looking slightly puzzled.

"Oh, matlab bhool gaye, mere baba," I looked at him in disbelief.

He smiled brightly, "Aesa hoskta h kiya k meri beti mange mujhse kuch or mai bhool jaon."

"To phir bataye kya socha apne, mere job k bare m."

I've been requesting him for almost 2 weeks. I want to work on my own, and he has not given me permission. I don't know why. He always fulfils all my wishes. I feel so lucky to have him. Big or small, all. But today I will not let this topic go. I will ask him.

"Meerab, I need to ask Bhabi Begum and Anwar about it."

See, here we go. Again, I knew that he was not giving me permission because of his bhabi begum..... ugh.

"Baba, please don't say, you are waiting for their reply, I seriously don't understand why you always ask them about taking a decision. I'm your daughter, not I."

It hurts. It hurts so much that he is my father, but he has to make a decision after asking them.

"Yes, Meerab, you are my daughter. But they are our elders, our family."

I don't think of them as my family. And I seriously don't understand why Baba gave them so much importance. They live in Hyderabad. Too far from here. And besides, they are not our family. As far as I know. Long ago, Baba had a friendship with them. That's it. Nothing more.

"And suppose, if they don't give permission, then? Aap hamesha unse kyun puchte hain-Meerab ko kaunse school jaana hai, Meerab ke liye kya sahi hai, kya galat hai, yeh sab woh kyun decide karte hain?"

"Meerab, beta, kaise samjhao tumhe."

"Nahi, Baba, mujhe kuch nahi samajhna, bas mujhe job karni hai, aur aap mana nahi karenge. Is dafa."

"Acha, theek hai, do din wait karlo. Bas do din, aur agar jawab na bhi aya, toh bhi main unhein manane ki koshish karunga. Ab khush?"

"Yeah, sach? You are my best, Baba! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" I'm so happy. Finally, I can start chasing my dreams for real. I hugged him tightly as he stood up, smiling.

"Okay, now come downstairs for breakfast, okay?"

"Yes, Baba, bas 5 minutes mein fresh hokar ati hun." Ah, finally, I can't believe it. Now I have to wait two days, and then I will start my job. I have already planned everything. In fact, I have already sent my CV to companies. And waiting for a reply.

I stood up from the bed. And went to the attached bathroom. I brushed my teeth, and I looked in the mirror. My hair is now a total mess, looking like "chidiya ka ghosla" (bird's nest), I laughed. I splash water on my face. I took a long breath, and tied my hair with the rubber band.

After changing the dress I went downstairs to find Mama and Baba were already sitting in our small dining room and enjoying breakfast. Mama was busy cutting fruits. I walk over and sit on my usual seat.

"Good morning Mama," I chriped. And here, my Mama, Anila Waqas Ahmad.

"Good morning," she replied and her tone was usually calm.

I looked at her, waiting for her to scold me. "Mama, are you not gonna scold me? Huh?" She usually scolds me for not waking up early.

"No," she replied simply without looking up from her fruits. I looked over at baba who just shrugged showing signs that he knew nothing.

I took a slice of bread and started buttering it. "Mama, you know Baba has promised me that he is going to give me permission to work."

"Really?" Mama finally looked up at Baba, who smiled, trying to keep the atmosphere light. "And Bhabi Begum gave permission for this?"

I couldn't resist jumping in, feeling a surge of excitement. I don't know why, but I have this desire to see my parents making decisions for me alone.

"This time, Baba, you're not going to listen to your Bhabi Begum, right?"

I looked over at him, my eyes pleading for his support. I needed him to stand by me on this as he already promised me. Baba hesitated for a moment, then nodded with a smile.

"Yes, Meerab. This time, I've made a promise, and I intend to keep it."

Yes! I knew Baba wouldn't break his promise. It means I will start my job soon.

Mama raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but she didn't argue further. I knew this wasn't over yet, but at least Baba was on my side, and that was all I needed for now.

Author's POV

Khan Haveli

Anwar Khan, Murtasim's uncle, was sitting at his desk, engrossed in work related to the village matters and counting the annual benefits from the field then suddenly his phone started ranging.

He glanced at the screen and answered the call. "Hello, Walekum Assalam, Waqas. Hmm... wait a moment."

He abruptly stood up and walked out to the lawn, where Salma Begum was already seated, addressing the concerns of village women. It's one of her daily duties.

One by one, the village women approached Salma Begum, sharing their troubles and seeking her wisdom.

A woman, visibly distressed, came forward and pleaded, "Khannum ji, meri beti ki zindagi barbad hone se bachalen. Please save my daughter's dignity."

Salma Begum's expression grew serious. "Explain the problem. "

Tears streaming down her face, the woman continued, "When she was a child, I fixed her marriage with my Bhabhi's son. But now, Bhabhi says she doesn't want my daughter as her daughter-in-law anymore. But her son still wants to marry my daughter."

Salma Begum turned her gaze to the boy's mother, who stood silently beside the woman speaking. "Is this true?"

The boy's mother nodded hesitantly. "Yes, Khannum ji, it's true. But I wish to marry my son to my sister's daughter instead. I don't want to break ties with her."

Salma Begum's voice hardened. "What does your son want? You can't go against your word now. How can you even consider doing this? You kept this girl tied to your son's name all these years, and now you're backing out of your promise? Shame on you. I won't allow this dishonour."

The boy's mother looked down, guilt washing over her as realization dawned. She nodded in agreement, realising her mistake.

The other woman, the mother of the girl, began crying tears of joy. "Sukriya, Khannum ji," she said, taking Salma Begum's hand and kissing it with deep gratitude.

The boy's mother also approached, her head bowed. "Okay, Madam," she said softly, before kissing Salma Begum's hand in submission.

The group of women, filled with relief and gratitude, joyfully cheered together, "Long live Khannum ji!"

Salma Begum raised her hand, signalling that the meeting was now over. One by one, women kissed her hand and left.

Just then, Anwar Khan handed the phone call to Salma Begum. Salma Begum stood up, held the phone, and saw the name. Salma Begum's face remained impassive, hiding her true emotions.

"Hello,"

"As-salamu Alaykum Bhabi Begum, apse Meerab ke mutalik baat krni thi." Waqas Alam's voice came through the line. Salma Begum smiled. A maid, holding an umbrella to shield her from the sunlight, followed Salma Begum inside the Haveli.

"Walekum Assalam, bolo Waqas. What is it?"

"Bhabi Begum, asal me Meerab job karna chahti h." After hearing this, her eyebrows twitched in displeasure.

After a few moments, she answered, "Why? Are you not providing her food and shelter that she feels the need of doing a job?"

"No, Bhabi Begum, it's not that. Actually, it's her dream, and I promised her I would fulfil all her dreams."

"Waqas, you know very well that we don't allow women to work. She is a daughter of Khan Haveli. In our family, it is strictly forbidden."

"Bhabi Begum, I can't bear to hurt her. I can't say no to her wishes."

"If you cannot handle her, send her to us. We will look after her and her desires."

She abruptly ended the call and handed the phone back to Anwar Khan.

Anwar Khan, who had been listening to the conversation, said, "Bhabi Begum, but you allowed Haya to work as Murtasim's assistant. Why not give Meerab permission to work as well?"

Salma Begum looked at him. "You know why I allowed Haya to work in his office-to keep an eye on him. Otherwise, I wouldn't have. But Meerab wants to work for SN Brothers Group, and you know they are our Murtasim's opposition."

"I understand, Bhabi Begum. Why not let Meerab work in Murtasim's company? If she refuses, then we won't permit her to work anywhere else."

"Hmm, do as you think is best."

"Sukriya, Bhabi Begum," he said and then left to give the news to Waqas Ahmed.

Meerab's POV

Ahmed House

It's 6:32 pm. I was sitting with Mama in the lounge, proudly presenting the Maggie I have made, but unfortunately I can't share it with you all. But I can tell you that it looks so yummy and tasty with the hot steam rising from the bowl.

And here I'm waiting for it to cool down before I dig in because Mama is looking at me with her narrowing eyes. And do not let me eat. But it tastes more yummy if it's a little hot.

"Mama, please just one spoon," I pleaded, pouting at her.

"No, Meerab, how many times do I have to teach you that hot food can irritate the lining of the stomach and intestine, potentially leading to digestive discomfort, heartburn, or acid reflux?" she said firmly.

"Uf," I held the bowl and stood up on the couch nearing the ceiling fan to cool down quickly, hoping it would cool down faster.

"Put it down, you will burn yourself," she scolds, but I totally ignored her this time. After so many days, I have made two bowls of Maggie. One for Mama and one for me, as Baba is in his office; he comes around 7 p.m. every day.

Let Maggie cool down. Why not talk while it's cooling down? I'm only good at making Maggie and hot black coffee. Other than these two, I know nothing about cooking.

It's not like Mama didn't try to teach me, but the mess I make, Mama scolds me, and Baba always saves me. That's why I love Baba most. Mama also loves me so much, but you know she is a little strict. Yeah, us moments.

"Ok, now dig in," Mama told me.

Without wasting a second, I sat in my place and took one spoon in my mouth. "Ahhh, this is so yummy."

"Indeed," said Mama. As she also tasted it at the same time.

The doorbell rang. Mamma and I looked at each other.

"I think it's Baba."

"Put the bowl down and go open the door," Mama instructed.

I quickly went to the door, still clutching the bowl with one hand and using the other to unlock the door. But as soon as I opened it, I instantly regretted not putting the bowl down.

"Hello, Aunty. Hi, Suhana."

I instinctively hid the Maggi bowl behind my back and stepped aside to let them in. They entered one by one.

Here, meet our unwanted guest, Mrs. Mehak Mirza, and her overly smart daughter, Suhana. They are our neighbours.

"Meerab, what are you hiding?" Suhana asked, eyeing me suspiciously.

"Nothing," I said, trying to sound casual, even though I knew I wasn't fooling anyone.

They entered the lounge, where Mama greeted them warmly, and I followed them behind. Mrs. Mirza, with an air of overexaggeration, said, "Oh, it's so hot out there; let me sit first," and she flopped on the couch.

I rolled my eyes, thinking, was she baking in the oven before she came? Haha, I bit my lip to suppress a laugh. Anyway, I looked at Suhana. No, no, she's not "that" Suhana, Shah Rukh Khan's daughter, but their personalities could easily match.

Suhana is one or two years older than me, but her mother always claims she's only 20. And for the past three years, she's been celebrating her twentieth birthday. Funny, right? I know it is.

But I also know she is 24. I sat beside my Mama after placing the bowls in the kitchen. Yes, I have already eaten my Maggie noodles. And I devour it in seconds.

You can call me Maggie eating anaconda.

Now let's see why they have come. I can smell something fishy. Can you smell it too? Oh, never mind, you can't. Hehe.

"These are sweets," Mrs. Mirza announced brightly; her all 32 teeth were out with happiness. "My beautiful daughter Suhana just got a job at Khan Textile Company, so I came to share my happiness with you all."

"Masha Allah, this is wonderful news," Mama said as she took a bite of the sweet. "Congratulations, Suhana.."

My mind started racing a marathon, Khan Textile Industry??? If I'm not wrong, it is not the opposition of SN Brothers Group, where I have applied for a job. I don't know much about KTC, but I have a feeling I should.

"Congratulations, Suhana."

"Thank you, meerab."

I smiled back, but it was as flat as a pancake. Ugh, look at her-head held so high, you'd think her neck might snap any minute. Did I mention she was my classmate in college? Not only that, she always tried to one-up me, showing off like she's better than me. But I couldn't care less. I'm happy with who I am.

"And Meerab, aren't you planning to join any company?" She asked in a tone dripping with challenge.

"Of course I am," I said confidently, "I've applied to-"

Her mother cut me off, "Anila and Meerab, you can't imagine how proud I am. My daughter didn't even have to apply to any company! The company made her an offer. And not just one-she got offers from several companies."

"Yes, you know, Meerab," Suhana added, "I received offers from six different companies. I chose Khan Textile Industry. Have you received any offers?"

"No," I replied flatly. She was clearly trying to make me feel inferior or maybe sad, but I knew I'd get a response from SN Brothers Group soon. Yeah, a little wait. Then I will show her what I am.

Just then, the doorbell rang again. Seizing the opportunity, I quickly excused myself and went to the door to open it. Then I opened it to find Baba standing there with his tie loose, looking tired. But smiled, looking at me lovingly.

"Baba! How was your day?" I asked, taking his suitcase. His work is tough-he's the most renowned lawyer in Karachi, and there isn't a case he hasn't won. He's my inspiration, my hero, my Baba.

"It was absolutely amazing. And why wouldn't it be? I saw your face before heading to work," he said, smiling.

"Oh, Baba, you never miss a chance to melt my heart. I love you, Baba," I said, hugging him tightly. Baba patted my back, and then, with his arm around my shoulder, we walked to the lounge together.

"By the way, there's good news for you," he said, his eyes twinkling with lots of love. All for me.

"Really, Baba? What is it?" I asked eagerly.

"Bhabi Begum has given you permission to work."

"Oh my God! Really?" I brimmed in delight. Finally, finally.

"Yes," he confirmed.

I jumped up and down in happiness. Mrs. Mirza and Suhana turned to look at us, their expressions unreadable. Mrs. Mirza's displeasure was looking at me like I have got two horns on my head, but all I can see are two horns on her head. And Suhana, I can smell the burning smell. I looked at them innocently.

This was my moment, and nothing could ruin it. Not these two women.

XXX

Murtasim meets Meerab.
Ready for the fireworks?

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