Zoya's hands burned as the mendhi made contact with her skin. She could feel the tingling grow into needles piercing through her flesh, making it's way to her bones. She didn't know if it was quite so powerful, but the excruciating pain seemed strong enough to do so. She turned her head, sensing Asad's gaze on her, and met his deep brown pearls. Just one look at the happiness in them and she felt the pain dull. His smile reached his eyes. He yearned to see his name on her hands, and she could tell it was genuine.
Her recent revelation, thanks to Tanveer of all people, made her realize just how much she loved him. She'd do anything for him. She'd bare even the more agonizing pain to see him smile, to see him happy. She winced again, as another dollop of mendhi was squeezed from the cone-shaped tubes onto her other hand. She closed her eyes, in an attempt to stop her tears. Opening them again, Zoya gave Asad a teary smile.
Asad could sense her discomfort. And yet her eyes spoke to him. Although he could see she was in some sort of pain, he also saw a glow in her eyes. A spark. That spark gave him hope. She was looking at him while they decorated her hands with the color of his love. Mere ishq ka rang, he thought to himself, a smile gracing his lips. But as his eyes found hers again, he noticed that her pain was increasing. Why is she so uncomfortable? What is bothering her so much? Ya Allah, why isn't she saying anything!
Zoya noticed the confusion and concern in his eyes. She gently closed her eyes and opened them again, looking directly into his, as if to assure him that she was fine. Her skillfully constructed mask, which had come down in front of him the night before, was back up. She hated lying to him. But knew that she had to. After all, he would never believe her if she told him the truth. And she would be damned if she gave Tanveer the satisfaction of ruining her mendhi rasam as well. All of her functions had, in one way or another, she realized, been ruined by Tanveer. And although she had been told by Mr. Khan that they were naakli, she never fully believed it.
However, this rasam was different. Today she knew why this nikaah didn't feel wrong. She knew that she loved him. She knew that she wanted to say Qubool Hai to him when the kaazi asked her if she accepted him. And she knew that the mendhi 's color would be the ultimate symbol of their love. Their love... Mr. Khan's love. She knew she hadn't heard him say it, but his actions spoke for him, as usual. The way he looked at her when she came into the beautifully decorated living room made her melt inside. She felt like she was walking on clouds, like they were they only two people in the room.
And she had heard him defend her choice of clothing. Not because he had chosen it for her, but because he was proud of her. Because he understood her pain, her hardships and commended her for spreading happiness wherever she went. He finally understood that she tried her best to make the most of life, and not be mad at Allah for having taken her family from her. Her heart had grown to the size of the sun, upon hearing him speak so highly, and lovingly of her.
Asad noticed a tear escape from her closed eyes, as she tried to turn away from him. He felt that tear pierce his heart, as if it were his own. Why is crying? Is she in pain? Ya Allah, Zoya, please look at me. I can't bear to see you in pain. Say something! Do something please!, screamed Asad with his eyes. He could see the happiness in her eyes, but couldn't ignore the way her face was contorting from an unknown hurt.
Finally, they we're going to put his name on her hands, and Najma started her teasing. Asad couldn't help but smile. He'd be happy with either scenario. Finding his name would be his way of saying to her that, yes, you are mine forever. And nothing can separate us. But at the same time, if he had to give her the gift, it'd be nice to have an excuse to talk to her, alone. He blushed at the prospect.
Suddenly, Najma stood up and started pushing him away.
"Tamatar, what are you doing?" he asked, confused.
"Bhaijaan, aapko Zoya ke haathon mein apna naam dhoondna hai. But if you stand there and watch them write it, you'll already know where it is. How is that fair? You have to leave the room until they finish," she ordered cheerily.
Asad sighed. He wasn't a big fan of these rasams, and rituals. He was doing them mostly for his Ammi. But this particular ritual, he was actually looking forward to. So far, there had been no disaster, as in all the others. And he was praying that it remain a peaceful affair. However, another part of him was elated that Zoya, his Zoya, would have his name on her hands, and he would get to look for it. He looked at Zoya one last time, and smiled a little again, as she looked at him sweetly, smiling back. He looked down, a slight blush creeping up his face, and swiftly made his way upstairs.
Zoya panicked a little. He was her strength, even today. But she couldn't fall apart in front of the rest of the guests. Her eyes scanned the room and saw Tanveer's smug face. Why that little... wait a minute! She smiled to herself.
"Wait!" exclaimed Zoya. "I want Tanveer to write my shouhar's name on my hands with mendhi." Tanveer looked at her incredulously. She was seething in anger. Not only had her plan to make her refuse to put the mendhi on failed, now she had to humiliate herself in front of Zoya and write Asad's name on Zoya's hand.
Seeing no other way out without causing suspicions, she proceeded to follow Zoya's instructions. As she was finishing the last letter, Asad came back to the hall. He was surprised to see Tanveer, of all people, applying mendhi to Zoya. He looked at Zoya, who smiled cheerily at him. He relaxed. Perhaps this was her way of making peace with Tanveer. He hoped that this meant that Zoya's accusations toward her would end after this, and that the love of his life and his best friend would get along again. But alas, Asad's eyes deceived him. For we all know the cold and bitter truth.
Horrible I know 😆 Please comment and like, if you really like it 😃
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