After 4 days

and laid it down on the bed. It looked so beautiful that she couldn't wait to wear it. But she had to hold her desires for five more hours. And before that she had an appointment of beauty parlor at 5:30pm in the evening. Right now it was 4:45pm, twenty minutes more until she left the house and picked Hoorain from her house.

She selected her clothes-plain caramel colored kurti with Chinese collars and three red heart shaped buttons sewed down the neckline, and white cotton trousers. And ironed them. The time crawled by as she dressed up, brushed her hair into ponytail-as usual-and wore real gold earrings. She hurried to grab her purse from the wardrobe that she almost forgot and headed downstairs.

As she was in the driveway, her phone rang. It was Hoorain. She told her that she was going to be there in fifteen minutes, although last time it took way longer than that. Putting the phone back in the purse, she informed Sajjid about her plan. He immediately grabbed his keys from the quarter and revved the car.

The main gate of the Bangalow was open. In the lawn the party planners were setting up the stage and embellishing the tables and chairs. Shehryaar was with Zafar, part helping, even though there were more than enough people to get the job done and was part watching, making sure if the decorators were doing everything right. He was an artist himself. He had a creative sense to judge things the way he liked it.

Zoha watched him as the party planners moved their vehicles and tall wooden posts, that were yet to be used for tenting, out of the way. He looked so engrossed in the decorating process that not once he noticed her standing in the driveway. She smiled and touched her necklace. No matter wherever he was, whatever he was doing, his love was forever secured in her own name. She knew as much as she longed him, he longed her more than that. To him she was the whole world.

By the time Zoha and Hoorain reached the beauty parlor, that Manal had recommended them, it was 5:40. Ten minutes late. Not that of a big deal. The beautician had reserved the spot for Zoha. There were several girls who sat waiting for their turn, most likely without an appointment. Hoorain couldn't find a seat to sit, so she had to stand. And she didn't mind. She wanted to watch as the makeup artist did the makeup.

For Zoha it was her first time to ever get everything from facial massage to the winged eyeliner done. She felt weird sitting on the salon chair, while the makeup artist applied the foundation, suiting her skin tone, and did the contouring. Keeping her eyes closed she felt sleepy. It was kind of relaxing, laying her head back, feeling the soft blender rub against her skin. Whenever makeup artist was away to fetch something from the drawers or makeup collection glass shelf, Zoha opened her eyes and glimpsed herself in the mirror.

"You look so different," Hoorain gasped once. She seemed more excited about Zoha's makeup than Zoha was. "And this is just half way."

"I have never gotten makeup done in my life," Zoha said, looking at the dark brown contouring, blend in with the light shade on her cheek.

"Just wait till everything is done. You are gonna look extra gorgeous." Hoorain's lips were curved in a huge grin.

"What if everyone starts looking at me with all this makeup when we get out?"

Hoorain laughed. "Then you should totally wear niqab. It will cover up everything."

"Yeah I should do that," Zoha joked back.

By the time the full makeup was done, it was six thirty. Many of the customers who were waiting, half of them were gone. Hoorain had finally found a seat to sit. She released a sigh in relief from standing so long.

The makeup artist switched places with hairdresser and Zoha opened her long, thick brown hair, letting it waterfall behind her chair.

"Ma Shaa Allah, your hair are so pretty," the hairdresser, who was much skinnier than the first lady, wearing the same black dress code, eyelashes curled thick with mascara and eyeliner winged said.

"Thank you," Zoha said. She liked how politely the hairdresser was working with her hair.

"You must wear oil all the time," she said, looking at Zoha in the mirror.

"I used to. But not much now."

"You should. It will keep your hair healthy."

Zoha lifted her neck from the back rest and straightly gazed at her makeup in the mirror. When she first looked at herself after the makeup was entirely done, she was astonished how different she appeared. Every tiny flaw on her skin was covered under her slightly distinct skin color. She looked like one of those models in glossy magazines-perfect and flawless. The only thing she was missing was her hair, which hairdresser was meticulously working on; she took her time to make sure every twist and braid was accurately and perfectly done.

Compare to the makeup, the hair part took fifteen minutes less time. Zoha was free earlier than she thought. When she threw glance in the mirror once again, turning her head both ways to see how the style looked from the back, she was amazed at her own self. For a small second, she stopped recognizing the face as herself in those curls with a coronet crowning her head.

In surprise, she stared at Hoorain, her smile frozen on her lips.

"Ma Shaa Allah," Hoorain stunned. "I told you you would look extra gorgeous?"

"I love this hairstyle," Zoha said.

"For walima you should get a haircut."

"Really?"

"Yeah. That way you can get more hairstyles done on shorter hair."

The hairdresser lastly sprayed frizz-free spray on Zoha's hair and did the minor touchups. "You are done now," she said, putting the spray bottle on the dressing table.

Zoha looked at the hairdresser. "Thank you so much. You did an amazing job."

"Ma Shaa Allah you are really pretty."

"Thank you," Zoha was flattered.

The next turn was Hoorain's. She wanted to get her party makeup done. After all it was her best friend's engagement. How could she miss this. Zoha sat on the cushioned bench on the side, wearing a mellow smile, watching Hoorain this time.

"You know Bari ammi told me to be done by seven. It's gonna take time to dress up," Zoha said.

"In Shaa Allah my makeup will be done faster," Hoorain spoke with her eyes closed. The makeup artist was applying shades of brown on her eyelids.

"Did you bring your clothes and everything else?"

"Of course. There is no time to go back home and get ready."

"That's good." Zoha fished the phone out of her purse and saw there was a miss call from Manal. She checked the volume. It was again on silent.

Why would she have called? Zoha thought. To make sure everything was okay, she called back.

"Zoha?" Manal picked up.

"Manal, sorry my phone was on silent. What happened?"

"I just wanted to make sure if everything is good. Is your makeup done?"

"Yeah, I just got it done."

"How did it come out?"

Zoha glanced in the mirror. "It looks beautiful."

"I knew you would like it. I had been to that parlor many times. I have seen them do amazing bridal makeup and pretty much everything else."

"Thanks for recommending it."

"Why wouldn't I ? I am really excited to see you. You must look so pretty," Manal said.

"In Shaa Allah I will be home by seven or maximum seven fifteen."

"Okay then. I will dress up and do my hair. Allah-hafiz."

"Allah-hafiz." Zoha ended the call and put the phone back in the purse.

"What was she saying?" Hoorain asked. She already knew it was Manal.

"She was wondering how things were going."

When Hoorain was more than half way done, a beautician called Zoha to do her nails. Zoha had already grown nails for the engagement. She made sure they didn't get damaged. It was after many months that she determined to grow them. The reason she stopped growing them before was because they pestered her while taking notes. Perhaps after this event, she would clip them off and reduce them to their usual size until Nikah and Walima.

Sitting on the comfy chair, Zoha straightened her leg and relaxed. She had been in the parlor for two hours. She wished her nails were painted fast so she could go home and begin dressing up. There was still a lot left to do. And one thing that worried her were the guests. Saliha had given them the time of eight thirty. They were going to start arriving soon. And it wouldn't be nice that bride came home late from parlor. She didn't want anyone seeing her with only makeup and hair done, wearing the ordinary clothes. So awkward.

The nail artist was very quick. It was as if she heard Zoha say can you do it fast? I have to get home before the guests arrive. Picking the hands from the glossy paper that was used to avoid getting nail polish on the table, Zoha looked at her colored nails. They seemed really nice. It was a mauve pink, just like her lipstick. She kept her fingers separated and let them dry.

"You can put your feet on the step stool," the nail artist said, preparing to paint Zoha toenails.

"Oh, actually I don't want it on the feet. My toes will be covered in my scarpins and it won't show my nail polish," Zoha said.

"Okay."

Zoha smiled at the nail artist and leaned back in the chair. She waited for her nails to get dry so they didn't get messed up, then got up and went to Hoorain who was done with her makeup.

"Are you good?" she asked, as Hoorain stood looking at her reflection in the mirror.

"I love this highlight," Hoorain said, captivated by her glowing cheekbones. "I want to buy one like that."

"You look cute with that soft makeup," Zoha complimented, blowing on her nails even though they were pretty much dried.

"Thank you." Hoorain turned around. "Are you done with your nails?"

Zoha raised her hands in the air to show.

"Are they dry?"

"Looks like it."

"Do you want me to call Sajjid baba? It's already seven. We are kind of late."

"Haan please. My phone is in the purse," Zoha said.

Hoorain took out her phone and asked her for the pin code. Then went down the list of contacts. "Is it the one with driver?"

"Yeah. Call him and put the phone against my ear."

When they reached home, Zoha saw the lawn was lit up with string lights and stage was beautifully decorated. Most of the party planners were gone, except for the few ones who were unrolling the red carpet down the aisle and tying the brown satin bows behind the chairs.

Hoorain stepped out of the car and picked her clothes bag from the seat. Zoha was mesmerized at the sight of gorgeous golden brownish canopy with a big bunch of flowers fixed in the top center.

"This looks so pretty," she whispered. Under the blackening sky, the lights seemed like stars on earth. It made the whole house stand out in the neighborhood.

"Ma Shaa Allah," Hoorain said, walking around the back of the car and stopping by near Zoha. "The color theme is perfect."

"I know."

They went inside and headed directly to Zoha's room, without bumping into anyone. Hoorain took out her clothes and laid them on the bed. Zoha already had her dress out, hanging on the wardrobe door. She changed first, avoiding her hair from the messing up and began wearing the jewelry.

Hoorain went to the bathroom after Zoha came out and changed her clothes. When she was done, she pulled out her transparent jewelry bag and wore her jewelry.

"Yaar, can you help me with the necklace?" Zoha said. She was struggling to put it in the hook.

Hoorain solved her problem in a second. "Here."

"Thanks."

Zoha slipped two big silver bangles in each hand and wore the ring that Zafar had gifted her when he came to Pakistan. It perfectly matched her clothes.

"Look," she said, showing the ring to Hoorain.

Hoorain looked, while getting her earring through the earlobe. "Wow. It looks so nice. Did we buy this ring too?"

"No. Baray Abu gave to me. I kept it for a special occasion."

"It perfectly matches."

Zoha looked at it, smilingly.

As Hoorain was all ready, except for her hair, she assisted Zoha with her dupatta, pinning it halfway on her head, so her braid and her curls showed.

"You know so much about brides?" Zoha said.

Hoorain fumbled for another thin, black bobbin pin in the small round plastic container. "I have seen so many brides in my family. Whenever they dressed up, I watched them."

"And not only that. You are into fashion a lot. That's why you know so much." Zoha's gaze were planted at where Hoorain was carefully securing the pin on her head so the net dupatta with sequined border didn't slip back when she moved.

"I just love dressing up."

"You must be enjoying then."

"Very much." Hoorain laughed.

When the dupatta was properly pinned without messing the hair, Hoorain wholeheartedly grinned at Zoha's lovely reflection in the mirror. "How does it look?"

"Perfect."

"Now let me pin the dupatta to your bangles so you can hold it up."

"Wouldn't it pull it?"

"It won't. I know it."

Just as Hoorain crouched down next to Zoha, keeping the wisps of hair from going in her eyes, there was a knock at the door.

"Probably it's Bari ammi," Zoha said. She didn't budge her head.

Hoorain got up and looked. Saliha stood, hand in hand at the doorway, dressed in solid white long kameez that reached her upper ankle, with neck, shoulders and sides from underarm till her waist designed with golden thread work. Her long, white laced georgette dupatta hung straightly from the left shoulder.

"Assamalaikum, aunty," Hoorain greeted, welcoming her in, holding the door open.

"Walaikum-Salam," Saliha responded. She stepped in and gazed at Zoha. "Ma Shaa Allah you look so pretty. Kisi ki nazar na lag gai." (May you stay protected from the evil eye)

Zoha shyly smiled, looking herself in the mirror. She didn't turn to face Saliha since her dupatta wasn't entirely fixed yet.

"Are you fully ready?" Saliha asked, walking over to her.

"I just have dupatta left," Zoha said.

"So you are all ready?"

"Jee Bari ammi."

"Many guests are already here. Why don't you come down when you both are done?" Saliha looked at Hoorain too.

"Yes. We will be done in ten minutes," Hoorain said.

"Okay then I will go and accompany the guests." Saliha's tiny heels clacked as she headed out the room and Hoorain politely closed the door after her.

"Why don't you do your hair first and then you can do my dupatta?" Zoha looked up in Hoorain's eyes, holding the thin dupatta with the tip of her finger.

"Okay."

"I am done with everything."

Zoha patiently waited as Hoorain curled her hair from the bottom.

"By the way are you nervous?" Hoorain asked.

Zoha's heartbeat was faintly low. Just as her thoughts shifted from being alone in the room with Hoorain to numerous people, their eyes pursuing her down the aisle. Her breathing became laborious. Fear started pounding in her.

"I wasn't nervous until now," she said.

Hoorain perched her hand on Zoha's shoulder, while holding the curling iron clung to her hair. "Just relax. You don't have to look at everyone."

"I know, but still it's hard to avoid the gazes," Zoha worried.

"Don't think about anyone. Just pay attention to where you are going."

Zoha was still uneasy although Hoorain attempted to distract her with variety of thoughts. She could feel the ball of air build in her chest and up her throat, blocking her ears.

"I don't like to be center of attention," she said.

"It's about two minutes. Believe me, it won't be as bad as you are thinking."

To calm herself down, Zoha took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. Then repeated the same thing again. Nothing will happen to me. I am strong enough to face it, she self-assured.

As Hoorain lifted Zoha's dress from the side and slowly walked her down the stairs. Saliha met them on the way. She was bright with excitement, managing things here and there.

"Ma Shaa Allah," Saliha said.

Zoha inhaled a deep and exhaled once more. She kept repeating the mantra in her head. It will be alright. It will be alright. She eluded looking elsewhere and maintained her focus on her steps.

In the lawn, most of the round tables decorated with sparkly cutlery, chocolate brown cloth napkins and multicolor flower vases were occupied by the chatty guests. The waiters dressed in black vest, white shirt were delivering drinks to everyone one by one in the round, copper tray. Shehryaar was sitting on the sofa on the stage, talking to another boy who appeared to be around his age. Zafar was conversing with two other men, holding orange drink.

Just as Zoha advanced down the aisle, everyone's awaited, elated gazes trapped her in the center of attention. A cameraman who had previously been fixing something in his filming camera, took a position and faced the protruding lens in Zoha's direction. The sidekick flashed the high power light and gained the endlessly long black wire in his hand as he moved backwards with the camera man before him.

Hoorain, Zoha and Saliha were washed with the white light, that gleamed their makeup and clothes. Zoha kept her gaze lowered, pressing her anxiousness, poking fear of being constantly watched by countless pair of eyes. She clasped her clutch and made her way to the stage, with Hoorain on her side the entire time.

When they were about to climb the steps, Shehryaar immediately came forth and offered his hand to Zoha. Zoha raised her gaze then and saw that she had made it through. Shehryaar stood at a tiniest distance from her, his eyes transfixed at her appealing looks.

Accepting his hand, she carefully clambered the steps and settled on the off-white, four-cushioned comfy sofa. Hoorain chose to sit next to her in case if she needed help or wanted something.

The same cameraman ensued them on the stage and began recording. Zoha temporarily held her breath and released it.

"Are you comfortable?" Hoorain asked near her ear. "Your dupatta is fine right?"

"Yeah, it's fine."

Hoorain backed away from her near her ear and smilingly looked at the big event with nearly hundred people-men and women mixed together. It seemed like most of the guests had eaten the appetizer. They were pumped up to gossip or lightly chat about their daily lives.

"Zoha, I am gonna go bring something in the plate. Do you want something?" Hoorain asked.

"Just get me a glass of water," Zoha said in a low voice.

"Okay."

Hoorain got up and left Zoha next to Shehryaar.