Dulhan (Hum) Sami,Sumbul,Faizan,Mashal - Page 40

Originally posted by: Klondy

Are there Dulhan stories or fan fictions anywhere on this site? Am trying to write something and don't know where to post.

U can post here or create a new post. Would love to read it👍🏼

Dulhan Spoiler Alert!

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I wanted to write a happier ending for Amal and Mikaal so this story starts where the show ends. What I have here is a crossover (Mahaepisode in Hindi TV lingo) between "Dulhan" and an Indian drama "Qubool Hai (2012)." Please indulge my fantasy and drop a note on how you think this is going.  

Tumhari Dulhan

     “Oooh, a destination wedding! I love it, I love it, I love it!” 

     Of course Zoya would love the concept, the drama, the over-the-topness, the full-on Bollywood pageantry, Asad mused. This kind of grand affair would be “right up her alley” or “wheelhouse”—as she would tell him in her usual American gusto. Asad’d had to ask her to explain the last term. Something to do with baseball which he didn’t get anyways. It wasn’t cricket so what was even the point. 

     He shook his head in disbelief. When a client had extended the invite, Asad had made polite noises quite sure about RSVPing “Can’t attend” in the end. But then he had gone and made the big mistake of opening his big, fat mouth in front of Zoya, and that was the end of life as they knew it. In classic Zoya-fashion she bulldozed over every other protest he tried to utter. "Will you stop being the nattering NABOB of negativity!" she hollered. The woman didn't even pronounce Nawab right. She insisted on the American version that sounded like NAY BOB. All his “voh actuallys” died a swift death. Client meetings? “Please, Mr. Khan, stop being so self-important. You can always re-sched!” She had shed real words like schedule and re-schedule from her vocabulary long ago. Site visits? Ayaan could take care of it. Drawings? Permits? Didn’t he have at least 50 people on his payroll? What good were they if Mr. Khan handled all the business A to Z? Before he could even think of containing the damage the eruption of giggly glee broke the banks. It was a wonder she didn’t jump up on the sofa to do her happy dance. Thank god for small mercies.

     “Ammi, we have to go! It’ll be such fun. Our second family trip abroad and it’ll be totes M.A." The whole family had visited New York for Nikhat's reception only a few months ago. "So sad that the rest of the family can’t come but the four of us will make it up for everyone else!” 

     And on and on the gushing went. Words galloped and entire sentences collided and smashed into one another. 

     Ammi was smiling broadly and Asad relaxed. Oh well. The verdict had been declared. The train had left the station. He may as well get tickets and stuff done. As much as he detested the idea, it seems they would be attending this wedding circus in Dubai. Asad groaned. Incredibly foolish. There would be stupid dancing and prancing around in ridiculous outfits, and Zoya for sure would want to sing her favorite gaalis. He clutched his forehead in sudden dismay. He sure hoped the client wouldn’t come to regret the decision to invite a certain Mr. and Mrs. Khan from Bhopal. Given his wife’s musibat-making track record there were some new adventures in store for sure. He just hoped they’d be mellow and not heart-stopping as the ones they’d already weathered.  

     “But why do I have to go? I have too much work here,” Amal protested.  

     A helpless Mikaal shrugged. “Ammi’s insisting and I can’t figure out why.” He held up his hands before his wife could glare back at him. “I already told her I’ll go and represent the family, or that she could come with me. But she’s not budging. Says it has to be me and you.”

     He felt bad for Amal. And guilty as heck. In the last seven-eight months she may have come around to being mildly pleasant to him but she still hated any public miyan-biwi appearances. And having to be by his blighted side at a whole wedding at that? She would definitely flee to her mother’s house. Mikaal sighed. For the thousandth time he cursed himself. He was responsible for this. All of this. They could have had the real deal. They could be happily married today … Amal was right to call what he did to her, a crime. It was a sin too, with a capital S. And three years of repentance and a served prison sentence made no dent in the guilt he continued to feel. 

      “Don’t worry about it,” he told Amal. “I’ll take care of it. You won’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” It was as if he said this dialogue to her almost every day. That’s what they should put on my gravestone, he mused darkly. “You won’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” Because I was a coward and did what I shouldn’t have. He squeezed his eyes in remorse. I’m sorry, Amal, he repeated in his head. He no longer said the words out loud to her. He didn’t want to bother her with repeated apologies. They probably sounded hollow to her.

      Amal watched him leave their room and felt a pinch at the way he’d squeezed his eyes in pain. She knew that a part of her had forgiven Mikaal. She even felt bad for her continued rejection. But another part still held her back somehow. That part made her freeze in terror each time she wanted to reach out and touch his furrowed brow. 

      Over three years of a separated marriage they had established a kind of respectful truce. And Amal now felt stuck in auto-pilot mode. She knew Mikaal would never cross a line with her. The man had even volunteered to realease her from their nikah after all. Of course he still loved her. It was that love that made him different. It was a self-sacrificing, ever-widening love that expected no love in return. It made her feel small. Was she holding on to hate and anger unnecessarily? He had changed, there was no doubt. Then why couldn’t she? This was not the Mikaal of four years ago who had treated her as a commodity to be traded away. Memories of that fateful night no longer made her seize up in pain. That pain felt somewhat numbed. As if a scar had grown over an open wound. Then why did she keep picking at the scar, trying to rip it off?

      It hurt her to see him hurt like this. She wished things would move forward but an emotional paralysis put up roadblocks. If she moved forward with Mikaal would her past forgive her? Would her Baba? If she admitted to herself that in some dark, shadowed corner of her heart she had feelings for Mikaal, would she ever be able to tell him? It would mean her taking the first step in changing their relationship. Because he had given her full control as a forever-condemned man and he’d never violate that trust—the ball was very firmly in her court. She would have to take the initiative with him and that scared the living daylights out of her. 

      And so they danced this permanent dance of inertia.

      Let’s hope Ammi listens to reason. Amal took out her phone to check her notifications—she was expecting a courier this afternoon. Ya Allah, there went that stupid little part of her heart again: that stupid voice that whispered it wanted to go to Dubai with Mikaal. Leave, it said. Put Karachi behind you for just a week … just the two of you re-discovering each other again in a place with no past history or memory? What’s the harm? As it is the word “honeymoon” had never been mentioned over the course of their entire marriage. Then why not live a little? Could she let her mind even think that word? 

      No. No way. Stop it, Amal.

      But Kulsoom did put her foot down. No matter what, Mikaal was going to Dubai for her cousin’s son’s wedding, and so was Amal. No questions asked. She was tired of the brittle distance between her son and daughter-in-law. Yes, Mikaal had erred but shouldn’t Amal forgive him by now? The girl had chosen to stay married to Mikaal then why not embrace the joys of a marriage by now? Couldn’t she see his regret? His pain? He had even served his sentence without a single complaint. 

      Something had to change. They couldn’t keep living like this … like eggshell-walking, zombie roommates when they clearly loved each other. Yes, she could see that Amal had fallen in love with Mikaal all over again. The way she looked at him from under her lashes. They way she took care of him when he returned from work, especially making coffee for him no matter how tired she was herself. Then what was stopping them from being together? From being truly happy? Both of them had lost a father, both knew grief and loss, then why didn’t they see how they were turning their backs on something so fragile, so precious, so reachable? 

      Kulsoom had slowly come to love Amal too. And respect her. She was a quiet girl, hard-working, and incredibly khuddar. Even when Kulsoom had offered to sign over her boutique to Amal, the determined girl had said no and gone on to found her own business. A business that was doing remarkably well for a group of young inexperienced women behind it. 

      Mikaal’s mistakes had made Amal too serious, too solemn. A part of her ached for Amal. It wasn’t fair that the man you fall in love with should abandon you, toss you to wolves. But Kulsoom also knew that her son had done his best to put things right since then. He had practiced true kafara and it was time Amal recognized that. Raising her hands in dua Kulsoom prayed for them. Forcing them to go to Dubai together was their last chance—for all three of them. There was too much tragedy in their lives. The kids needed to put it behind them and start living brand-new lives. She hoped this gamble would work. Even Haroon bhai and bhabhi had given it their full approval. Grief had to give joy a chance. One couldn’t go on living in its shadow forever. 

     The suite was gorgeous. Perfectly luxurious. But then Zoya knew that about her husband—only the finest things for her Jahanpanah. It’s not that he wanted the luxury for himself. She knew it was his way of spoiling her and Ammi. Early in their marriage she would protest the overspending but now she just zipped her lip and let him have his way. It made him happy then why harsh his mellow, Zoya giggled. While only the two of them had been invited, Asad had insisted on bringing Zaid and Ammi along as a vacation for the whole family. A nearly 15-month-old Zaid might have survived a week without his parents but his parents certainly couldn’t. 

      After settling in and freshening up, they went to get a late lunch in the resort’s dining room. This would also be the first time they’d get to meet other guests who’d flown in from different parts of the world. Zoya was super excited. Maybe someone here would be from the US and she could catch up. Talk in a language that didn’t make her Indian relatives snicker or her husband smile that micro-smile of his. 

      Zaid wanted to rush and zoom instead of eating kana. Why was Ammi forcing him to stay in his high chair when there was so much fun to be had at the pool? And why wasn’t there enough space on the table for him to race his truck? 

      “Oopsie!” he cried when the same truck fell to the floor.

      “Zaid,” his mom muttered. This was the second time he’d sent the truck flying. “Allah miyan, what’s wrong with you!”

      But a nice uncle bent down to retrieve his truck and Zaid beamed up at him. 

      “What do you say?” his Ammi encouraged. She had already thanked the stranger. 

      “Tankoo,” the kid said and Mikaal laughed. 

      “You’re welcome!” 

      Zaid promptly sent his truck careening to the ground for the third time.

      “Zaid Ahmed Khan, you are being especially akdu today!” Zoya hollered. “Not good, mister. I’m sorry,” she turned to Mikaal. “He’s not happy being tied up and fed by his mom. He's acting up because he wants to go romp in the pool.” 

      “He’s adorable, and I don’t blame him,” Mikaal said with a smile.

      “He knows he’s adorable and that’s exactly the problem! Hi,” she extended a hand. “I’m Zoya and this is my son. And my Ammi.” Zoya introduced Dilshad too. 

      “I’m Mikaal. It’s nice to meet you, especially Zaid. Are you here for the wedding?” he asked after he’d bumped fists with the tiny tot.

      “Yes! You too? Oh, this is great! We don’t know anyone else here besides the host.”

      Zoya saw Mikaal look around and then break into a shy smile. She turned to see what or who he was looking at. A pretty young woman in a formal salwar kameez was at the buffet. 

      “Your wife?”

      Mikaal ducked his head. “Yes,” he said softly.

      “Please join us,” Zoya made the instant decision. Mr. Khan would probably frown at her for befriending complete strangers in a strange land at the drop of a hat but hey, a girl’s got to do what a girl’s got to do. There was something in Mikaal’s face ... his eyes told a story that she was dying to unearth. There was something deep there. Some pain. But a lot of love shone in those eyes too. Hmm, if she was by herself, she’d rub her hands in anticipation. 

      When Asad arrived at their table the next minute, the deep dimples already told him what was going on in his begum’s mind. This was the Zoya he knew all too well—the stars-in-her-eyes, self-appointed fairy godmother who had grandiose notions of playing a natural matchmaker and pyaar ka farishta had lasered in on a brand-new project. He groaned as he glanced at Ammi and she nodded at him knowingly. Oh boy.

      Asad cleared his throat as he handed Zaid his sippy cup. He had carefully filled it with watered down orange juice because Zoya could not be trusted with fine motor skills. She was prone to spillage. 

      “Mr. Khan,” she gushed. “Say hi to Mikaal. He and his wife are here for the wedding too!”

      The men greeted each other formally. 

      “I’ve asked them to join us,” she went on to explain. “That way we’ll know at least ONE couple here, right?” Zoya pouted prettily and Asad grinned. Her naked tricks and poor-me dramas fooled no one. Something was already cooking in her head and she would do exactly as she pleased. He on the other hand, would have to play the trusted vazir who followed marching orders. As usual. 

      “Yes, please do join us. What a great idea,” he said as he looked pointedly at Zoya. Asad would have preferred to not chitchat with strangers and just be in a private bubble, just the four of them, enjoying quietly by themselves. But then when did the idea of quiet ever appeal to his wife? 

      “Um, let me ask Amal if it’s OK,” Mikaal said and excused himself.

      “He’s so cute!” Zoya whispered to Asad as he settled down next to her. 

      Asad choked on his rumali roti and Ammi giggled. Great. Now his mother giggled too. Thanks to his wife everyone in their family had gone mental. And cute? She found this guy cute? 

      “Cute? How dare you?” he deadpanned and she laughed. “I did not bring you to a foreign land to check out random men and call them cute in front of me.”

      “Oh please Mr. Khan, stop pretending to be jealous. You are certainly not allowed to check out women and call them cute but I am. It’s just how it is, hai na Ammi? Deal with it.”

      “Kyooteee pie!” Zaid added in loud agreement. His Khala and Phuphis all called him that. Obviously Ammi was talking about him to Abbu. This time Asad really did have to clutch his forehead as other diners turned to look at them. 

      Zaid flapped his arms when he saw Mikaal uncle approach their table. With an aunty. 

      Asad stood as Mikaal introduced his wife. She was equally shy but smiled genuinely when she saw Zaid try to grab Mikaal’s hand. “And this is my new friend, Zaid,” he said to his wife, Amal.

      “Hi Zaid,” Amal said.

      “Hi hi hi hi,” he chanted happily and she laughed. 

      Zoya elbowed Asad hard and he rolled his eyes. No one had missed Mikaal’s look of surprised joy to hear Amal laugh but of course Zoya loved to make a broadway-level production of it all. She was going to be impossible now. And unstoppable. 

     Amal was thankful to meet new people and even join them for lunch. Because otherwise she’d have to talk to Mikaal all by herself and she was feeling hopelessly tongue-tied. When Mikaal came up to tell her they’d been invited to join complete strangers she’d felt a dull pang. She had caught his interaction with a child at the table and it tugged at her. Something unknown and unfamiliar had bloomed deep in her. At least these new people would take the pressure off from her, she told herself. She could just quietly listen and nod her head. Problem solved. Besides, Mikaal probably craved some real human company. It must be tiresome to be with her, to hear her clipped responses, to see her averted gaze. His easy smile and relaxed body language made her crave something too. But she didn’t know what. 

      Amal glanced at Zoya. The woman was dressed in jeans and a kurti and openly flirted with Mr. Khan who just seemed to blush or shake his head in wonder. Thank god for this woman, Amal thought. Her irrepressible energy and chatter would keep everyone diverted, and Amal wouldn’t have to speak a word. But she had’t taken into account a very determined Mrs. Khan. The woman had already squealed happily when she found out that they were from Pakistan. “How cool,” she’d remarked. Amal hadn’t expected to run into Indians here. But then Dubai was an international city. 

      “You have to tell me everything about Karachi!” Zoya said after Amal had settled in.

      As Mikaal chuckled Amal responded shyly, “I really don’t know everything about Karachi myself.”

      Zoya laughed and laughed at that. Wiping her eyes she said to Amal, “You girlfriend, are dangerous! And I love it! But seriously, tell me about the best street food in Karachi.”

      Amal felt dazed. How did one laugh like that? Like there was no care in the world. 

      Zoya didn’t miss something painful flicker in Amal’s eyes. Uh oh, she hadn’t meant for the girl to be so sad. She also noted the obvious relief on Amal’s face when Mikaal added instead, “It must be chaat just like in India I’m sure. A universal favorite with girls, right Zoya bhabhi?” 

      “Oh my god I love chaat! I would’ve married chaat but Mr. Khan proposed first.”

      Asad threw his back and laughed and Amal noted both Zoya and Dilshad aunty look at him fondly. 

      How sweet. And how happy this family seemed. Why couldn’t she have something like this? Even a little bit of this? She watched Mikaal play with Zaid and her heart bumped in her chest.

      “I am so sorry that I proposed first,” Asad said. “Sorry for being a kabab mein haddi in your spicy romance. Come to think of it Ammi, no wonder she disappears every other day. For a date with her chaat obviously.”

      Zoya swatted his shoulder playfully. “Busted!” she announced.

      “Speaking of kababs Asad bhaijaan, bun kababs are actually the most famous street food in Karachi,” Mikaal added and everyone roared. 

      Even Amal couldn't resist laughing at that. She had never seen this playful side of Mikaal. Well, she had, but that was ...

      So this is what normal looked and felt like? It wasn’t bad. She wasn’t hating this at all. And even watching Mrs. and Mr. Khan flirt like that wasn’t making her want to run. They were obviously in love. Some silent messages seemed to flash between the two of them. Their hands often touched and Amal even saw Mr. Khan stroke the top of his wife’s hand. Zoya squeezed his hand as her fingers stayed curled around his. So this is what love and a happy marriage look like? That sense of absolute relaxation around one another. Complete trust and fullness. The wanting to touch and snag secret glances every now and then. Why couldn’t she—

      “We should get going,” she said to Mikaal and he rose immediately. Amal blushed at his quickness. She knew they were being rude. “I mean I feel a little tired. And I also need to call home.”

      They said their goodbyes and left for their room. Zoya’s shoulders drooped. There was so much she wanted to ask, so much intel she had to gather before she could wave her magic wand and make that sadness whoosh from both their eyes. 

      Asad patted her hand. “It’s OK. You’ll survive.” 

      “Mr. Khan you’re so mean!” came the expected reply. 

      He grinned. “I’m not being mean. I’m just rescuing you from being a snoop and scaring the poor girl away.” 

      “Hmmph! I did not mean to scare her away,” she wailed.

      “I know you’re itching to play fairy godmother. But there’s something between them that needs time.”

      “So you see it too? I knew it! Aapka kya khayal hai, Ammi?”  

      Dilshad nodded her head. Each of them had experienced pain to know its symptoms all too well. “Kuch toh hai. There’s some painful history there and it runs deep. They are too self-conscious around each other. I just hope they find happiness soon.” She looked at both them. “It's not fair that love can be so fragile. I’m so glad that you two were brave enough to let the pain of the past go and find your own happiness. Bahut kam logon ko naseeb hota hai aisa. I’m so proud of you.”

      “I was the brave one, Ammi,” Zoya said cheekily and Asad nodded in agreement. The pain of their past still stung. “Left to your son, God only knows where we would be today. Mr. Khan had to be beaten on his Akdu head to find his courage!”

      Asad chuckled. “You’re right.” But then he grew serious. “It was hard to listen to my instincts. I wasted too much time on tehzeeb and whatnot.” He held Zoya’s hand. “I’m just sorry it took us even that long to find our way to each other.”

      Zoya’s eyes misted. She placed her other hand on top of his. “I know it wasn’t really your fault. And not gonna lie, you've always been my superhero for the millions of things you do for me. I just like messing with you, Mr. Khan and you know it! But between Amal and Mikaal, who do you think is being the Akdu one here?”

      “Amal,” both Asad and Dilshad said together and they all laughed. 

      Yes, there was something that girl was holding on to too tightly. None of them had missed the abrupt departure. Mikaal had the look of someone waiting for grace. And a gun shy Amal was just running away from herself, her instincts. 

To be continued …

If you haven't met Asad and Zoya let me do some shameless promo: I fell in love with them in 2012 and they've not let me lead a normal life since then as they dance in my head and make me write happy endings (!!!) for them. And boy, have I written a lot of happy endings for them, if you know what I mean! The fan fiction "Prem Kahani Hai Mushkil" erupted from me when the writers of the show decided to butcher their own story and characters. I had to come and rescue Zoya and Asad from their creators and I hope I did them justice.  

This is wonderful! I love reading your work! This made my day! 

Originally posted by: -shabz-

Forgiveness is one thing and love is another. Amal might forgive Mikaal but could she love him? 

Would I or you love someone who did that to us? It’s easy to say forgive, and one might forgive, but you cannot love. I liked the ending. We could have been spared a lot of nonsensical episodes. But in the end, the message was delivered. Buray ka anjam Bura.

This is absolutely right. I think I struggled between the two too—forgiveness vs. love. That's what I love about Pakistani shows—evil does get punished unlike ridiculous Indian soap operas. 

But the romantic in me wants Amal and Mikaal to have love. And I imagined something along those lines of Amal struggling between forgiveness and love too: https://www.indiaforums.com/forum/post/157159162 

Originally posted by: fatima30

This is wonderful! I love reading your work! This made my day! 

Fatima!!!! My bestest reader of all time! I love you. I hope you had a lovely Eid. 

Originally posted by: Klondy

Fatima!!!! My bestest reader of all time! I love you. I hope you had a lovely Eid. 

Hey Dixie! The bestest writer of all time! I love you too! I had a lovely Eid thank you! Hope you had a lovely time too! Praying that you and your family are all safe and well xx

I am posting VM here as it is related to Dulhan :-)

https://www.instagram.com/p/CNItqdtpgld/?utm_medium=copy_link

Originally posted by: sheeluneelu

I am posting VM here as it is related to Dulhan :-)

https://www.instagram.com/p/CNItqdtpgld/?utm_medium=copy_link

Hey Suruchi!🤗🤗🤗

How have you been?? Tum toh mujhe bhool gayi ho, my dear friend!!😌

How is your health now? Hope your back is recuperating well...

The VM is lovely...what a beautiful selection of song!👍

Am so glad that you ended it on the final scene in Dulhan...what a beautiful ending it was...

With the hope of a reconciliation, but not till the atonement is done!❤️

Actually just realised again, that Sami Khan is obviously a very good actor, but Sumbul isn’t quite so...

Strange that their chemistry manages to traverse these barriers, and can still be so impactful!

Chemistry is truly a unique phenomenon...it’s either there or it isn’t! And, is so much like beauty, in a sense....completely in the beholder’s eyes!😇

P.S.: Is the guy in your Insta dp the guy the lead actor of Fatmagul? You like him? Asking ‘cos I love him!😂

He is a STUNNING actor, and I am not just referring to his looks here! The command over his craft is SOMETHING ELSE!❤️❤️❤️

Originally posted by: DocD

Hey Suruchi!🤗🤗🤗

Hello Doc

How are you??

How have you been?? Tum toh mujhe bhool gayi ho, my dear friend!!😌

bhule nhi hai office join kar liya hai toh thoda busy ho gaye hain bas

How is your health now? Hope your back is recuperating well...

I am fine but health issues toh abhi bhi hai. It's ok dheere dheere hi theek honge

The VM is lovely...what a beautiful selection of song!👍

Am so glad that you ended it on the final scene in Dulhan...what a beautiful ending it was...

Thank you so much❤️

With the hope of a reconciliation, but not till the atonement is done!❤️

Actually just realised again, that Sami Khan is obviously a very good actor, but Sumbul isn’t quite so...

There is no doubt that Sami is a good actor.After Dulhan I watched many of his old shows. Now I like him even more.

Strange that their chemistry manages to traverse these barriers, and can still be so impactful!

Chemistry is truly a unique phenomenon...it’s either there or it isn’t! And, is so much like beauty, in a sense....completely in the beholder’s eyes!😇

I was able to finish this show only because of Sami otherwise the story was moving in circles😆

P.S.: Is the guy in your Insta dp the guy the lead actor of Fatmagul? You like him? Asking ‘cos I love him!😂

He is a STUNNING actor, and I am not just referring to his looks here! The command over his craft is SOMETHING ELSE!❤️❤️❤️

Yep he's my new found love Engin Akyürek😳 Thanks to Nina N Simmi for telling me about Fatmagul.

Engin is a wonderful actor I totally agree. He acts so well that you will not even feel for a moment that you are watching a show in another language.

Originally posted by: sheeluneelu

I am posting VM here as it is related to Dulhan :-)

https://www.instagram.com/p/CNItqdtpgld/?utm_medium=copy_link

I seriously wish we got to see the 2 get together again. I can understand message wise not having back together but arghh. They were perfect together.😒 

My dream is we get a small hr long telefilm of them getting back together again after he is freed.