SOOO, while writing the previous chapter, I just couldn't stop! I understand that it was kind of a filler, and I feel you guys deserve some real substance in the chapters! SO HERE'S A BONUS CHAPTER. Chapter 9 of Shaadi Mubarak : The Wedding Story. Now this was probably one of the hardest chapters to write. I was super excited to pen it down, but all of you naturally had a lot of expectations from their 'night' :p
I tried my best to focus on both the emotional and romantic aspects, I hope you guys enjoy it!
Asfi sat in the lounge, frantically twisting around his fingers in his lap. He was waiting for Gaiti to come out of their room, he couldn't understand what was taking her so long.
Gaiti finally walked out.
"Jayye dulha sahab, aapki pyari dulhan aapka intizar kar rahi hain," she told him.
Asfi stood up, his steps slow and calculated.
"Thank you Bhabi," he called out, "And goodnight."
He reached his room and opened the door softly. Zubiya was sitting on the bed, her head slightly bowed. She was looking down at her hands. Upon hearing the creak of the door, she lifted her head. Their eyes met, and they smiled at each other.
Once he was inside the room, Asfi closed the door and turned the lock.
He turned around and began to walk towards the bed. Taking slow and careful steps, he reached to the sleeve buttons of his sherwani and unhooked them. Next, he loosened the front buttons of his sherwani, revealing a fraction of the plain white Kurta that he was wearing inside.
Watching his unrushed, deliberate movements, Zubiya felt her mouth go dry. This man right in front of her, this glorious, enchanting man was her husband. He had rights over, rights which no one had ever had. Rights which she had dreaded before meeting him, but now was looking forward to every step of the way.
Slowly, he lowered himself on to the bed near her. He sat facing her, his eyes focused on her face. He could make out that her tears from the rukhsati and her sleeping on the way back, had caused her eye makeup to smudge a little.
"Kesi ho?" He asked, his eyes seeming to pierce through her entire existence.
"Theek hun," she replied, smiling at the way he had started the conversation.
"Zyada thak tou nai gayi?" He asked again.
"Zyada nahi, thora bohat." She answered.
"Haan, kafi hectic tha aaj ka din," he added.
"Aap awkward feel kar rahe hain kia?" She asked with a smile.
"Nahi nahi," he hastily replied. "Main kyun awkward feel karunga?"
"Nahi woh aap itne sawal pooch rahe hain na is liye," Zubiya said, her eyes shining with humour.
He looked at her for a few seconds, studying her expressions. And then he broke out laughing.
"Tum mujhe bohat ache se janti ho," he said between his chuckles. "Mujhe bas yakeen nahi araha hai ke ye sab asli hai. Main kab se iss din ko imagine karta tha, aur aaj jab tum yahan ho, finally, tou aisa lag raha hai ke jitni baatain main ne soch kar rakhi thi tum se kehne ke liye, sab zehen main kahin kho gayi hain."
"Yaad ki hui baaton se khud ko express karne ke bajaye, behtar hai ke jo abhi dil main araha hai insan woh bol de," Zubiya offered.
"You're right," he said.
"Zubiya, tumhe shayd meri baatain clichd aur typical lagengi. Lekin phir bhi main tum se kehna chahta hun ke iss ghar main tum apne aap ko kabhi akela nahi samjho gi. Mujhe maloom hai ke ye safar asan nahi hoga, aur main har qism ki difficulties ke liye prepared hun. But I want you to know, that no matter what, I'm always here for you. Always." He paused. "Kabhi aisa bhi hoga ke hamari laraiyan hongi, hum dono ek doosre se agree nahi karenge, kuch waqt ke liye baat karna band kar denge. Lekin uss tanhai ke waqt main bhi hamesha yaad rakhna that I love you. And I always will."
Asfi had expressed his love for Zubiya at various times in the past, reassuring her that his feelings for her were absolutely real and unchanging. However Zubiya had always been a little hesitant in expressing herself. She had confessed that she loved him, yes, but perhaps only twice or thrice.
"I love you too, Asfi." She replied. Not once did her voice waver, nor did she look down shyly. Her eyes boldly stared into his, easily explaining to him that the transition of marriage, was a huge transition. Somehow, these few days had strengthened her so much, that she felt this man deserved every word of love and praise. Not like he hadn't deserved it earlier, he always had. But now she had the courage to say it aloud.
He shifted close to her, his knees touching hers. Reaching out to her hands, he held them sacredly and lowered his lips onto them. Softly, his mouth brushed against the back of her palms in a smooth, lingering kiss. It seemed like he had all the time in the world, not a care, not a worry.
Zubiya watched his lowered head, her eyes beginning to well with tears. How could two people hold so much love for each other in their hearts, how? She had always heard that God had made humans near to perfection, but never had she realised that he had given them such a strong power. The power to love. The power to hold someone so dear, so incredibly close. She had loved her parents and her Khala, but none of those feelings had intrigued her to this extent. Her love for Asfandyar had brought her around to learn so much about God's ways, his grace.
When Asfi finally looked up, he saw her eyes shining with tears.
"Zubiya tum ro kyun rahi ho?" He asked, worried.
"Kuch nahi," she smiled through her tears. "Bas Allah ka shukr ada kar rahi hun ke uss ne mujhe aap ke sath jor diya."
His expression turned serene at her words, sometimes her purity truly stunned him.
He touched her shoulders and slowly pulled her into a clean hug. His hands moved across her back, holding her close. Zubiya's right arm went around his neck, securing him, and her other arm wound around his waist, holding tight. Despite their sitting position, their bodies were glued together, their heartbeats steady, beating against each other.
They sat in that position for a few minutes, breathing in each others scents, feeling the warmth.
A few moments later, while withdrawing from the embrace, Asfi placed a soft kiss on her cheek.
"Aap ko uncomfortable feel horaha hoga sherwani main, aap change kar lein," Zubiya said.
"Mujh se zyada tou tum uncomfortable horahi hogi, itni sari jewellery, itne heavy kapray!"
"Gaiti Bhabi ne mujhe itna daraya tha in sab cheezon se, kaha tha ke 'Zubiya tumhari halat kharab hojaygi', aur main itna dar gayi thi ke ab mujhe actually zyada bura feel nahi horaha," she laughed.
Laughing at Gaiti Bhabi's amusing behaviour, Asfi stood up. He unbottoned his sherwani and took it off, placing it on a chair nearby. The plain white kurta that he was wearing inside was slightly crumpled now. He walked back to Zubiya and stood near her. She had taken off her dupatta from her head, and was now trying to release her hair from the bridal bun. It was so efficiently pinned up, that she was struggling to find the pins and take them out. Asfi steadied her hands and drew them aside. Gradually, he began to take out every pin holding up her hair, and tossed them on to the side table. When he was done, her hair fell in waves down her back.
Running his fingers through her hair, Asfi said, "I think it took us more time to open up your bun than it must've taken the hairstylist to make it!" He laughed.
"Haan, she did it so easily, I could hardly follow what she was doing," Zubiya told him.
She was standing in front of the dresser now, taking off every piece of jewellery she had worn that night.
Asfi came from behind, his arm going around her waist. He snuggled close to her, his face half buried in her hair. The vague scent of her perfume was playing with his head. She held his hand lying on her front.
"Thank you Mrs. Asfandyar," he whispered.
comment:
p_commentcount