they were going to go out for dinner. It was Do Darya, meant two rivers. He wanted their first dinner after wedding to be the most memorable and unique, at an unordinary place. Zoha was restive to see how it looked. It sounded beautiful, two rivers, taking place near water.

With a delay of fifteen minutes due to mild traffic, which was typical, they made it. The evening sky was painted with charcoal black and the coastal area of Karachi was lit up. Stepping out of the car, Zoha felt a cool draft brush against her partly bare arms. She instantly grabbed her sweater from the seat and slipped it on. Shehryaar was already wearing his thin black coat. The cold did not bother him much.

As they headed to the pier restaurant, they noticed there were already many couples, and some families who had taken the spot by the water. Shehryaar stood and looked around for the empty ones. He was firm on finding a place by the attractive view. Zoha, on the other hand was cold. She had pulled the sweater sleeves longer to cover her callous hands.

"I guess we have to wait little more," Shehryaar said, looking at his wife.

"What about upstairs?" Zoha noticed there was more space on the second deck and there was a canopy too.

Shehryaar looked up. "Let's check it out."

When they went up, they saw there weren't that many people. It was more peaceful and open-spaced. And the view from above was extra beautiful. They could see the big river stretch far away, with waves lapping against the enormous rocks.

"Shehryaar, this place is so nice," Zoha said, enthralled by the table set ups that had dim lanterns hanging above.

Shehryaar look around the place and faintly smiled. "I am glad you like it."

They picked the table that was all the way in the corner and sat there.

"Did you ever come here before?" Shehryaar asked.

Zoha lightly shook her head. "Never."

"I actually looked it up on the internet. It struck me very beautiful and romantic." He glanced at the quiet water view, drowned in the dark night.

"I love it,"Zoha said.

Shehryaar folded his arms on the table and melted his gaze at Zoha. "Me too."

Zoha glimpsed at him as he said that and huddled in her sweater. Her hands were quivering by then. She tried to stay steady and not shake, but she couldn't help it. Her mistake was that she didn't take a warmer jacket when she knew the sweater wasn't enough.

"What happened? Are you too cold?" Shehryaar noticed.

"Yeah."

"It's more cold here since it's by the water."

"Maybe." Zoha fought the draft of wind. The wisps of hair blew in her face.

"Ek minute," Shehryaar said. He unzipped his black jacket and took it off, revealing his dark green long sleeved collared shirt. "You have been cold since we came here." He got up and walked over to Zoha. "This is much warmer. It should help." He put his jacket on her shoulders, fully covering her sides.

"But, Shehryaar.." Zoha looked at the jacket, sliding down her shoulder. "Aren't you cold?"

"Nah, it's fine. I am used to much more cold."

"Really?"

"Aur nahi toh kiya." Shehryaar laughed. "This is nothing to me."

"Phir bhi."

"Don't worry about me. I am fine. Is it warm?"

Zoha pulled out her dupatta and slipped her arms inside the jacket sleeves. "It's much better. Thank you."

"Chalo ab khana order karein?" Shehryaar picked the menu from the side and started looking.

"Sure," Zoha said, wearing a faint smile.

For a while they surveyed the menu. Shehryaar kept flipping back and forth as if there was some dish he liked, but wasn't sure if he should actually order it. With the finger on his chin, he faced the menu to Zoha and pointed under the categories BBQ.

"I was thinking about chicken tikka," he said. "And over here bihari kabab."

Zoha closed the menu with the finger in the middle and considered the dishes Shehryaar mentioned. "Okay, if you like that."

"Nahi, agar tumhey kuch mangwana ho toh batao."

Zoha pursed her lips, thinking.

"I thought about ordering barbecue since it's been a long time when I last ate it in Pakistan," Shehryaar said.

"I like barbecue too. Why don't we order beef boti or seekh kabab?"

"If you say seekh kabab, then let's go with that then. And beef boti."

"And what about you?" Zoha said.

"I just want chicken tikka, because that's my favorite, especially Pakistani original. Nothing taste better than that." Shehryaar winked, closing the menu.

"Okay." Zoha tucked the strand of her hair behind her ear.

Later, as waiter came by, Shehryaar gave him the order. He asked Zoha what drinks she would like. She preferred Orange one, while he himself picked Sprite.

As they were waiting, Zoha overlooked the river vista. She was in love with the ravishing restaurant. Everything about it was so enchanting that for a mere second she found herself lost in some magical world, where there was no one but Shehryaar sitting across from her. Other people who were sitting around them, seemed to disappear in her imagination. It was absolutely serene, with the rush of cool breeze kissing her face. Thinking about it, she could not contain her big smile from leaking on her lips.

"Kiya sochri ho," Shehryaar asked, as he looked at her.

"Nothing," Zoha blushed.

"If you weren't thinking then why are you smiling?"

"This place. It's just so beautiful."

"There are more places like this and beyond that I want to take you to," Shehryaar said. "California is a place to visit. You will love the landscapes and the nature there."

"Really? I haven't been anywhere and I very much love to. My dream." Zoha was reminded of those old days when she used to talk about the places she wanted to visit with dadi and dadi took them as a joke sometimes, because she was too old to make those trips.

"Once you come to California, then just watch where will I take my wife to. Just you and me and no one else." He advanced his hand across the table and squeezed Zoha's pale, cold hands. "I will take you wherever you wish to go."

Zoha matched her gaze with his and kept looking into his small, content eyes that were a pure reflection of his love.

"And you don't know how much that would make me happy," she said.

"This would be my wish, to see you happy. Truly. You look more beautiful when you smile." He kept staring at her, as if his world started in her eyes and ended there.

Zoha retreated her gaze somewhere else.

"Idhar dekho," Shehryaar said.

"Don't look at me like that," Zoha said, blushingly looking somewhere else.

"Why? You think people are watching us?"

A shy smile enveloped her lips. "Aur nahi toh kiya."

"And what will they say? Oh look a handsome husband can't stop looking at his most heavenly beautiful wife," Shehryaar fawned. "Is that what they will say?"

Zoha could feel the laugh rise up in her. She found his flattery more funny. "Of course."

"Then let them. I don't care. I am with my wife and that's all that matters to me." He tipped her chin and turned her face to him.

"Bohat hogaya," Zoha said. "Ab aisa na ho ke waiter aa kar hummey dekhney lagjaye." She laughed.

"Kahan khana yaad diladiya. Now I am hungry."

"Me too. It smells so good." Zoha got whiff of barbecue on stake and her mouth flooded with water.

"It's all about waiting now. I wish you hadn't reminded me of it. You ruined the perfect moment."

Zoha kept her hair from going in her mouth and her eyes. She glanced at Shehryaar and then reconnaised the restaurant.

"By the way what do you want to eat for dessert?" Shehryaar asked, as the idea popped in his mind.

"You know I have been wanting to eat ice cream falooda. Bohat dil karraha hai."

"Then why didn't you say so? I could taken you out just for that."

"It's fine."

After ten minutes the food was served. The waiter, a young boy about in his early twenties, quaffed hair, distributed the plates, placed the main course dishes and then went back and brought the cold drinks. By the time they got their hands on the chicken tikka, the smell of it had already dominated the table. Shehryaar took the knife and fork and took out chicken for Zoha in her plate.

"Here you go, ma'am," he said.

Smile blossomed wide on Zoha's face. "Thank you, sir," she said, flitting her gaze at him.

"Here take some of this since you ordered it," Shehryaar said, putting forward the plate of seekh kabab. "Or else I will eat all of it. It looks really delicious."

"Aren't you on dieting?" Zoha poked.

"What is that? Never heard of it before." He poured two teaspoons of raita in his pure-white colored plate.

"I think I have to remind you what it is."

Shehryaar raised his index finger, swallowing something in his throat. "Why don't we talk about this after we get home. Then you can give me long explanation of what it means all you want, my pretty wife?"

Zoha ripped a piece of puri paratha and laughed. "Looks like you are reminded what it is."

"Umm..I don't remember anything when I am out on a romantic dinner."

Zoha pursed her lips to seal her laughter. "Okay okay."

******************

After leaving the restaurant, they went to an ice-cream parlor. It was approximately twelve forty five when they reached home. Zoha fell asleep in the front seat. It was a long drive. Coming back had exhausted both of them.

"Zoha," Shehryaar whispered, as he plucked the keys out of the ignition. The constant noise of the running engine died, making everything around even quieter. "We are home." Zoha was sliding sideways, her head nearly touching her right shoulder.

As Shehryaar slightly shook her, not by the means of creating great disturbance, Zoha's eyes opened. She lifted her head and swept the hair from the side of her face. "We are home?"

"Yes."

Zoha unlocked the door and stepped out on the concrete driveway. She realized her hands were freezing, even though she was wearing a warm jacket. She folded her arms across her chest and walked inside the house. Shehryaar locked the car and followed after.

Getting back to the room, Zoha felt some relief. Even when the heater was not on, the atmosphere of the place was a warm blanket over the shoulders. She took off Shehryaar's jacket and put it on the bed.

"Haven't you been cold?" she asked Shehryaar.

"This shirt was enough," he said.

"It really wasn't. You shouldn't have given me the jacket. I am afraid you will get sick."

Shehryaar unfastened his wrist watch and put it on the dressing table. "Don't worry, I am fine."

"If I had some idea that it was this cold, I wouldn't have gone out like this."

"Nothing will happen."

Zoha gave Shehryaar a stare, disbelieving his foolish act.

"Do you need the heater? So I can turn it on before I go to the bathroom," Shehryaar said, standing in his tracks to the wardrobe, uncuffing his sleeves and loosening the stiffness of his collar.

Zoha thought, then responded. "I am going to my room to get something anyways, so you can get fresh and turn it on afterwards."

"Okay."

Later Zoha grabbed her clothes from her room and brought along the clothes she was going to wear the next day. She got fresh after Shehryaar came out of the bathroom; he was wearing flannels and gray, short sleeved t-shirt. When Zoha changed her clothes and removed the light makeup from the face, she did the ablution and pulled out the prayer mat to pray.

"Shehryaar, can you turn off the tv?" she said. "It will just take fifteen minutes."

Shehryaar fetched the remote from the bedside and turned it off. He sat back on bed, against the comfy pillows and blankly looked at the tv screen, without making eye contact with Zoha.

Zoha stood, holding the prayer mat upside down and looked at him. "Did you mind?"

Shehryaar sighed and raked through his hair. "No, I am just tired. Had been a long drive." He looked in Zoha's direction and smiled.

"It's pretty late. One fifteen," Zoha said.

"I know. But tomorrow is Sunday. We shall make it good too." Shehryaar appeared interested.

Zoha spread the prayer mat on the floor, still facing in Shehryaar's direction and wrapped the white, soft chadar on her head. Before Shehryaar said anything, she started her prayers.

Shehryaar slid on the other side of the bed, near Zoha, grabbed the pillow and placed it on the lap. Then he settled his charmy eyes on Zoha, whose gaze were lowered during the prayers, her hands on top of each other against her chest. She bent forward, touching her knees and recited the pure words in arabic. Then rose back up on her spine and following that prostrated on the floor.

When she was done with four farz (the most important part in performing prayers), she looked at Shehryaar as he was still staring at her.

"Why are you looking at me like that in namaz?" she asked, putting her right hand on the head.

Shehryaar didn't respond. He kept looking, even when Zoha had begun looking down and reciting ayatul-kursi after four farz.

"How can you look this beautiful?" he said. "You have an aura of some angel."

Zoha finished reciting and lifted her gaze back to Shehryaar. "I don't think I am as beautiful as you may look at me as."

"You really think that?" His face was tinged with amazement.

"Of course. I am not that beautiful."

"You are a silly girl. I don't believe what you say."

Zoha roused from the floor and continued with the rest of her prayers. Later when she was done, she folded the prayer mat, unwrapped her scarf and put both of them in the shelf.

"You should go to sleep. Your eyes are telling me you're really tired."

"What else are my eyes telling you?"

"They are also telling me that you don't want to sleep."

"You can very well read eyes." Shehryaar said, hugging the pillow tightly against his upper abdomen.

"I didn't read your eyes for that. You just don't seem to be in the mood of sleeping."

Shehryaar pursed his lips in a frown. "By the way what work is left to do this late at night?" He seemed a bit annoyed.

Zoha was standing in front of the open wardrobe, door blocking the view of Shehryaar from seeing what she was doing.

"I am hanging the clothes for tomorrow."

"And how long is that gonna take?" Shehryaar cocked his head to see.

"It's almost done." Zoha hung the dupatta in the hanger.

"Forget it. I am going to sleep." He scooted over on his side of the bed, pulled the pillow under his head and muffled his face with the other one. "Good night," he said.

"Okay good night," Zoha said, closing the wardrobe door. She ambled to the window with the tail of her white linen dupatta trailing behind her on the floor, and drew the curtains over just enough to prevent the sunshine blasting their face in the morning. Then went over to the bedside and turned off the room light.

After turning on the lamp light, she glanced at Shehryaar. He had a pillow muffling his face like a frowny kid. It poked a laugh out of Zoha. She was aware why he was so impatient, but she didn't give into it easily. She was amused to see him act this way. It was adorable.

She peeled the comforter from the bed and slipped under the cozy layer. It felt so good. She couldn't express the pleasure of warmth after coming from cold. Her hands and feet were always callous as if she had been bathing in frigid water. She fixed the pillow under her head, since part of it was snatched over on Shehryaar's side. But she realized he had fallen asleep and it was going to disturb him. So she cautiously pulled it, twitching her left eye. It was hard not to move him.

Unexpectedly, as she was at the verge of retrieving the pillow, Shehryaar's hand clasped Zoha's wrist and Zoha halted amid the course of her action.

"You think I fell asleep?" a voice from under the pillow said.

"Shehryaar, you scared me." Zoha's heart rate escalated. She could hear drums playing in her ears.

Shehryaar uncovered his face and looked at Zoha. "Why did you take this long, huh?"

"I told you I was hanging the clothes for tomorrow."

"You could have just left them on the couch and done that tomorrow." Shehryaar stacked the pillow he had on his face under his head and kept gazing at Zoha, holding her hand still.

"Can you at least let my hand go. I am here already."

"And what if you leave me again, taking your pillow and sleeping on the couch?"

Instead of lying on bed, Zoha sat up on bed, her wrist cuffed by Shehryaar's hand. "I am used to it now. I won't go. Promise."

"Promise promise?"

"Believe me I won't."

"Okay then." Shehryaar freed her hand. "I believe you."

Zoha took the pillow and laid back on the bed. "You know you scared me so badly. It was good I didn't scream."

"Really?"

"Yes." Zoha gave him a look. "What do you know?"

"Sorry."

Silence thickened between them for seconds. Zoha inhaled and exhaled, emphasizing each intake of breath to show how tired she was. Shehryaar grabbed her hand again and encased it in his big, warm hand. This time he wasn't letting go of it and Zoha made no effort to pull it away. She knew he did this to make sure that she was near him.

"You said you were so tired," she asked him in a soft, lulling voice.

"I was and still am, but I can't go to sleep until you are next to me."

Zoha glanced at him, observing his dormant eyes. He had kept them enough open so he could keep up the conversation with her and not fall in the depth of good night sleep.

"I will be here, don't worry. You can sleep."

"I love you." He kissed her hand. "You don't know what you mean to me."

"You mean so much to me too, Shehryaar." Zoha's heart fluttered as she pronounced her feelings.

"Then why do you make me wait like that all the time?"

Zoha thought. "There is always something to do."

"It shouldn't be more important than me."

"Nothing is more important than you." Zoha gave an assuring smile that smoothed away the residues of worries from his face.

Shehryaar breathed, wearing relief. "Now I will be able to go to sleep in peace." He closed his eyes.

**********************