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Jasmine ( Floral Series)

🇵🇰DaoistWeG3mU
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Synopsis
She was his deepest secret, he was her love, it was the time to unveil it. ----- Alizey, a newly Muslim girl living a life undercover from her paternal family, with her sister and mother. They had survived through many hardships after her father's death. But what will happen when a sudden wedding invitation will arrive at their doorstep? More appropriately it was a proposal for a family reunion. Will life be easy on them or there will be another hardship waiting for them with open arms? But how long can she live a life of secrecy when she had been engaged to her Uncle's son before her father's death. Dawood, a practising Muslim and family-oriented, caring young man, who was sent away from his family and her for the sake of his betterment. What will be his reaction when Alizey will again unwillingly step into his life? Will he fell in love or hate her more? Let's step into the fantasy world of Dawood and Alizey and unveil the secrets ourself. Enjoy the melodrama of young Muslim couples with the desi touch of Pakhtun culture. °°° The journey from hardships to prosperity. From strangers to love

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Chapter 1 - C1: The Yousufs

She was looking out of the window in deep thoughts. A pen was in her hand and she was flipping it between her fingers. Her hair slightly flies when the cool breeze hit her face. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes to calm down. The streets were dark but her eyes glowed with the unshed tears.

It was nearly impossible for her to run away from these thoughts, they always bother her whenever she was alone.

She felt vacant, like her heart is empty or she is missing something essential in her life, but what? She tried to fill this void in numerous ways but nothing pleased her. This was the major confusion for Alizey Jasmine Khan since she had heard his voice.

-------

Alizey's PoV

It was pleasant day sunlight was peeking into my room through the gaps between the curtains, painting the white walls pink. Wrapped in a quilt I was laying in my bed making my mind to get up. I brush away the fringes from my eyes and check the clock, opening my one eye, it strikes 6:45 am. I get down from the bed, putting my feet in the flip-flop and walk towards the washroom, twisting my long, dark hair in a messy bun. I suppressed my yawn behind my hand and twisted the knob of my bathroom door, switching on the light I stepped inside shutting the door behind me.

After freshen up I walk out of my room in a vibrant Rainbow-coloured dyed Kurti which reaches till my mid-thighs with a pair of faded light blue skinny jeans. My attire was perfect for the hot weather of mid-summer. I feel really fresh and confident while the task for the day replayed at the back of my mind as I get ready.

I stood by the kitchen door and saw the most precious person in my life. A smile finds its way on my lips. Her back was facing me and she was engrossed in making breakfast for us while humming a beautiful tune. I walked towards her and hug her from behind. She is my strongest support, my love, my life, my mother.

"Good morning, Mama. " I greet her. It was our morning ritual. To greet and hug.

"Good morning, Liza love, have a seat, breakfast is ready. "She tells me.

Even though she wasn't an eastern woman but she had adjusted to the surroundings pretty well because of the flexibility in her nature and for my late father. Lauren Flora Khan was an independent British woman who had worked all her life to support her needy family. Now she was doing a double-time job as a housewife and the owner of her boutique Flora. She had worked day and night for the betterment of us as a single parent.

I took a seat and settle down near our dining table. The aroma of freshly baked bread makes my stomach groan and my mouth waters. She served me an omelette with a cup of coffee, I thanked her and she settled down in front of me.

Ting! The Oven called. I stopped her from getting up and take out the baked yummy bread from the built-in Oven. Don't get astounded, you are meeting Mrs Lauren Flora Khan she is not a typical Mum. She loves cooking so baking bread in the morning wasn't a big deal for her.

I transferred it on a plate and served the delicious happiness.

The breakfast was silent. We both were consumed in our thoughts when a yawning zombie entered the kitchen.

"Morning Mum, morning sis " Alina greets and hug Mum lazily, she pulled a chair and sat beside me. Her hair was dishevelled and her eyes were still drowsy.

"Good morning, baby. " Mum greets her youngest.

"Morning, Lina, you again woke up late and didn't even change yet " I scolded like the elder sister I was.

"Ah! I am still feeling tired, don't wanna go to school," she exclaimed the wish of every student.

"Aww! But you have to, little-school-going-baby. " I teased her. If I was paid for teasing her I would have become a billionaire by now.

" Dear sis, I am soon graduating " she stuck her tongue out at me giving me the obvious piece of information. Weak combat skills, point to be noted.

" But right now you are still in school " she throws daggers at me and devoured into her food maybe she is really tired.

This is my younger sister Alina Blossom Khan. Drama runs in her bloodstreams with platelets and blood corpuscle. She is sweet, beautiful, helpful, wild and evil depends upon the circumstances. Further, you will know what a ticking atomic bomb she is! With her you have to be on alert mode, you don't know what trouble she has attracted towards herself and I swear I am not exaggerating, you will see but I love her from the deepest core of my heart more than my being.

"Bye, mum " I hugged her after standing up from my chair.

" Take your lunch box, drive safely and I am sending an envelope with Alina, give it to Yusra, it's the monthly donation money our boutique had collected. I would have delivered it myself but my day is occupied, " Mama instructed and I nodded.

"And lina, get ready in fifteen minutes, I am waiting for you in the car." I threw over my shoulder while rushing out of the kitchen and she groaned. She knew if she didn't come out in fifteen I will leave her and she has to take the bus then.

______________________

I was sitting in the car, switching through the radio when a peaceful and melodious voice filled in the atmosphere. It brought back so many beautiful memories. I leaned back in my seat and closed my eyes savouring every word. My heart feels alive even though I can't understand it but it sends a shiver all over my body. I felt this was the ingredient of peace I was missing.

"Allah is with the believers."

[8:19]

He translated the verse in his deep, strong and steady voice. His every word separate and smooth sending goosebumps all over my body. I felt the hair on my neck erected. I was taken aback by his words and the sudden realisation.

Who are the believers? Who is Allah? Again and again, these questions were resurfacing in my head but I don't have any idea about it, this messed up my thoughts more.

Living in a Muslim country and having a Muslim paternal family, you know who Allah is. Also in Christianity, we believe in Allah. But I am not a practising Christian so wherever I came across my gods, except few pieces of information I am totally blank.

I heard a knock on the window of the passenger seat, it brings me back to earth, away from the building up misery in my head. It was Lina. I switched off the radio and unlock the door. The effect of the words was still rich in the environment. Repeating in my head again and again. Allah. Believer.

"Were you sleeping lately? " She passed me a cute smile, certainly unaware of the havoc in my head.

"Nah, just feeling the tune " I grin and played along. Neither she can understand nor I wanted to worry her about my current condition.

"Yeah, you love to do that," she said adjusting in her seat as she places the bag on the back seat.

"Yes, I do. " I smiled lopsidedly.

She switched the radio on, played a song and humming it under her breath while bobbing her head but I know soon this humming will convert into a live concert. I sighed and pressed the accelerator driving towards our destinations. The voice long forgot.

-------

"Bye Lina, take care, have a nice day" I halted the car in front of her school gate.

"Bye Liza, same to you " she waved

I waved back and pull the car on the road towards the graveyard after she entered the school building.

-------

I was standing beside his grave just looking and looking and looking and looking not saying any word. Having a silent conversation with my martyred father sleeping under the pile of sand.

I sighed looking up at the sky to fight back the tears. I gulped to swallow the lump forming in my throat. There were so many things I wanted to say but the words jumbled. When you have so many things going on in your head it gets even harder to speak.

"Hey, Baba " I sniff. " I know you are always around me, watching me, Lina and mama from heaven. Ah! Baba, we miss you a lot. You know my University is starting soon as I told you before your daughter will soon become a fashion designer. " I exclaimed the last part with enthusiasm then let out a small laugh while wiping my tears from the back of my hand.

"And baba, mama was saying hey, she couldn't make up here, she had some work came up suddenly, Lina is at school, she has grown up into a beautiful girl next time I will bring her too, I love her but she annoys me a lot, she is soon graduating in few months after that, she will apply in a college. Your little one wants to become an artist. Well, no doubt baba, her sketches and paintings are brilliant. She recently participated in an event and won the first prize.

I want to stay and talk with you more

But I have to go now, the school will be soon starting, okay baba bye, may you rest in peace, your daughter loves you! "

Living without the most important person in my life is frustrating. However we are getting used to it or I should say we have to get used to it because if we get stuck with the same pain, continuously crying over the loss without trying to move on, we will hurt everyone around us unintentionally and also make them worry about us, it's useless to grief over the same reason again and again. Scratching the wounds those are trying to heal will never let the pain subside.

We are constantly trying to move on and overcome our fears and swallow the reality that we have to do without him.

I put the Jasmines on his grave, his favourite flower, that he named me after. I smiled at him and start walking out of the graveyard towards my car while wiping my tears.

I know it will be hard for me ... for us to begin really special days of our life without him but as mama says he is always present around us. The body dies but the soul lives forever!

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