"Remember, no distractions—we're here for the daughter and not for anyone else," Muhammad cautioned Aabid. They were sitting under a canopy in the center of the garden. "Stick to the plan no matter what. Unless you want Uncle's brain to burst,"
Aabid snuffed his smoke with his well formed lips while faintly glancing at a distant rose bloom. You may think he was not really paying attention to the advice his cousin was giving him, but he actually was. With riveted focus. Indeed, his father might lose it all if he dared oppose at the closest minute.
This environment was the dwelling he was born within. His optics were moving through the buildings and giving signals that would prompt his memories. When he was younger, he used to come here to play with his friends. The memories was fuzzy, though. But he was certain that this was it.
"You got it?"
A slow nod from Aabid. He despised the way Muhammad handled him now after which
"Better. So eat this and get attractive. You appear parched "He moved the strawberry plate to Aabid's front and picked up his phone once again. Less than a year ago, Muhammad was married.
"Is this really required? This entire introduction and meeting "Aabid asked in a stern manner.
"No. You may just make plans to vanish, at which point it wouldn't be necessary anymore" He said sarcastically. "Look, I have no idea what the problem is. Do you share the opinion that planned weddings are absurd?" He continued as he forked a strawberry. "Observe me. My wife and I got arrangements. I was unaware of her. But instead, I thank God every single day for pairing me up with such a wonderful person!" Muhammad crossed his knees and groaned, knowing Aabid was finding it strange to believe.
Silence.
After some minutes, Aabid said, "The thing is, you and me are different. Perhaps it works for you but not for me,"
"And why wouldn't it work for you?"
He shrugged. Too lazy to explain or express his mind.
A ring from Muhammad's phone brought the discussion to a temporary end. "I gotta answer this. We continue later,"
So he left him sitting on the garden chair, thinking about ways to get out of this 'family decision'
Unexpectedly, he started to have migraines. He was familiar with this. It either happened when he took those red tablets or when he overthought things excessively. After a while, Muhammad came back and sat on the sidelines, watching his brother stretch on the chair. He was mindful of his dilemma.
"Who did you intend to wed?"
After several debates battering in his brainbox, he at last replied, "Nobody."
"I was told you presented someone to uncle,"
A direct nod. "Ya. Although..."
" Well—needless to say it wasn't going to take place; because she is not even a muslim, Aabid,"
"I know—but you know... she holds expectancies from me," He gulped sparkling water from a small glassware and stashed the smoldering cigarette in contact with the smoke tray. "Yknow that feeling when someone retains towering confidence in you and you just can't fail them?"
"Like how we need Loharani's acceptance on this project? Yes—of course I do,"
He hissed, "Not business-related stuff, bro—I mean personally—with someone that isn't work related..." he rubbed his hair and continued, "It's like I'm her last ticket... we talked on the same night before my departure,"
Muhammad laughed at Aabid, making him raise an eyebrow at him.
"Do not be a fool for those kind of girls, Aabid." Muhammad told him, grinning from ear to ear.
"What do you mean?"
"How are you sure you're the only one in her life? I need you to understand a few things—firstly, your status as the grandson of a billionaire and empire family. You got all eyes on you. You've become target, boy! Don't be a fool and fall into their dramas,"
"Hamman, she was crying. She was in pain," Aabid retorted, glaring at his cousin for making fun of his intellect. They hardly argued like this on casual times because Aabid always gave short replies, and Muhammad was even too busy to engage in an informal conversation with him.
"So what? Can't she just be understanding? Look—all these things that are happening are just distractions... Wait... in the first place, who met who? Were you the one who approached her?"
Aabid shook his head. "She was..."
"Think about it! Bro do not make the wrong choice. I repeat do not,"
"I've heard you," Aabid tiredly assured and stood up to leave. "I'm exhausted,"
"Go get some rest." Muhammad advised, bringing an end to the topic. He sensed Aabid was no longer interested nor was he willing to understand his point. "You haven't eaten the fruits,"
"I don't feel like doing so," he stated, rubbing his palms together. " You enjoy it instead. With that, Aabid strolled to the 'boys quarters'.
---
Shortly after he freshened up and sat comfortably on his study, an intense downpour started. Afterall, it was an early evening whose afternoon was hot enough to reliably produce a lukewarm water on its own. Now he was under the covers, toiling on the sheets, and devoutly hoping to fall asleep. He found it amusing, how a remarkable procrastinator he suddenly became.
Unable to doze off, his eyes trailed a water droplet as it danced haphazardly on the familiar window. At a slow pace, he gently massaged his head as he ultimately accepted that nothing could change his family's mind about the organized union between him and Saliha.
That was when a plan illuminated itself in his mind.
'Sure, the wedding was probably going to happen; but did not mean it was going to last'
A loud knock distracted him, causing him to walk to the door and peep through the hole. It was Yeccef, with Muhammad standing behind, both wearing white Kaftans.
"What?"
"Come out, we're all waiting for you. Its Maghrib," Muhammad ordered, his voice and tone firm enough to hint what he said was do or die.
"I've heard.
"Give me a few minutes to dress up," he informed, pulling out a random baggy trouser from his wardrobe to wear with a shirt.
---
Today was the day. Zara was even more excited than Saliha. Saliha was undeniably nervous, Sweaty, Confused.
Infact—the house seemed crowdy today to Saliha. Jaya and her brother were noisy. The maids were moving around way too much and even ma'Hanan seemed busier than other days. But Saliha was grateful. She felt appreciated—the fact that they were doing things because of her.
Zara wore her blue dress, swirling, putting her arms up in the air. She was a sophisticated tween—not as selfish as she could be, she snatched the black veil Saliha intended to cover herself with; Despite it did not match well with what she wore. Even Saliha knew that—but she did not tell her: instead, she had a hidden smirk and decided to stay mute. Zara was a great disturber and an incredible demotivator afterall.
As for Saliha, the pink lawn suit it was. She prayed as she wore it, hoping to look appealing. The style blew her 5ft 5, loosely hanging to her milky skin. She rubbed a lip balm to conceal her chapped lips, proceeding to wrap a veil over her hair.
Turning to Aabid Jalaludeen, he was already dressed formally as well as hurrying along the brief stair that was in front to the parking area. The gents had already got in the vehicle. He looked briefly at the Hyundai Elantra to his left, discovering the second bride of Jalaludeen II herself, ma'Haleema glancing at him past the car window. Reluctantly, he conveyed a greeting regardless of perceiving she could not listen to; then continued walking to the saloon car that was just a few steps away