The grey clouds casted over the city brought in a wave of the depressing atmosphere. The rain was lashing down and misting the windshield as Salman drove. It was the first day of Eid and he was intent to getting his mission completed. He had ignored his mother's imploration to stay at home for the festive lunch. He had a far important task ahead of him than celebrating. The wedding was set in 5 days. He didn't have much time. It had to be done today. There will be a celebration. And a big one when he will prevail.

He halted the car in front of the given address. Glancing through the heavy summer showers, he narrowed his prominent black eyes gazing at the building in front of him. It was a centuries old shabby looking building which most probably comprised of many small flats. He just hoped that the person in question was at home at this time. He needed confirmation of what he had unravelled. But most of all, he needed her cooperation to accede with his mission.

His hand clutched the door handle and he stood tall obscuring in the rampant rain.

This was it.

It was now or never.

****

"Eid Mubarak" Daud's husky voice brought tingles all over her body as he stepped in the Ahmed's residence living room, clad in a black salwar kameez. Nawal slowly rose from the sofa staring at the man who would be her husband in five days. Hugging baby Salim to her chest, she was stunned and speechless. Unable to look away even though her whole family was present in the room. He was the best-looking man she had set her eyes on. Whatever he was dressed, he had an aura of confidence and magnetism. But today in salwar kameez, he was irresistible. His broad shoulders hugged in the cotton kameez and his rolled up sleeves highlighted his muscular arms. She was pleased that Daud had conceded to wear the salwar kameez she purchased for him during the Karachi trip.

Amusedly, Fiza had been watching her young sister in law staring blatantly at her fiancé as he greeted the men in the living room. She nudged Nawal's elbow, making her fluster at her bold way of admiring her fiancé. "Someone can't seem to lower her gaze." Fiza muttered under her breath.

Nawal's cheeks turned crimson and she hastily strode away. Samreen was in the kitchen helping Ghazala prepare the festive lunch. Ghazala was standing in the far end mixing the pot of Sheer Korma (vermicelli and milk dessert) while Samreen was sitting by the kitchen table slicing the almonds and pistachio that will be added in the Sheer Korma. She looked up and winked, "I heard someone special has just arrived".

Nawal blushed harder. Taking the baby from Nawal's arms, Samreen mischievously pointed at the juice glass on the kitchen table, "Why don't you go serve juice to your ahem ahem." She wiggled her eyebrow.

Fiza giggled and joined Samreen's teasing, "Just don't spill it on him, ok?"

Nawal rolled her eyes and held the apple juice glass in her shaking hands. Fiza whispered in her ear before she left for the living room, "Wink at him. I am sure he will grab your hand rather than the drink."

Nawal stifled her laughter at the good-natured teasing from her sisters in law. She stepped in the living room where her brothers, father and Daud were discussing business. Her heartbeat was erratic as she approached Daud. "Eid Mubarak" she murmured when she was standing in front of him. This time, she was unable to look at him. She was awfully aware of her brothers' and father's eyes on her.

Daud's eyes glided over her body in appreciation and then raised to her face. She was dressed in a light pink churidaar and a long flared kameez. The dupatta was loosely draped over her head but still concealed her hair. The colour of the dress complimented her flushed cheeks, thought Daud beguilingly. Nawal stretched her arm, offering the drink glass. Not taking his eyes off her face, he touched the small tumbler. Their fingers grazed and alarmingly her eyes searched his. With a naughty glint in his light blue eyes, his smile grew. Her face heated and she hesitantly stepped back, her hands falling to her sides.

How he wished he could greet her Eid the way he wanted. He had to wait. It was only a matter of days now. Then she was his to hold, feel and kiss. He had a long honeymoon planned where it would be just them and no one to disturb them for miles and miles away.

****

It had been months since Ghazala had seen or heard her sister's voice. On the Eid evening, she stood at the threshold of her younger sister's house, desperate to mend familial ties. Seema had one glance at her sister, she solemnly greeted her Eid felicitations. Ghazala nervously ambled in the sitting room and fidgeted with Nawal's wedding card that was resting on her lap when she slumped on the sofa.

"Manal prepare chai for your khala," Seema ordered loudly.

There were a deafening silence and tension in the air. Both sisters averted their gaze from each other. Ghazala guiltily peered down at the envelope of the fancy wedding card on her lap. She was racking her mind as to how to break this awkward silence.

Seema, on the other hand, was not thrilled to see her elder sister after many months. She had expected her sister to restore their blood ties months ago. Forgiveness was easy to grant in the family but her sister's stubborn behaviour not taking the first step towards bonding had left her flabbergasted. She loved her sister dearly. After their mother's death, Ghazala had played the maternal role even though they had made mistakes in the past. All was buried away in the deepest corner of their hearts. But now wounds had been dug up again. Reminding them that past mistakes were repeating.

"What brings you to my home? Or were you lost Baji?" Seema sarcastically broke the silence.

With gloomy eyes, Ghazala stared at her sister, who she hadn't been able to protect when they were younger. "I have come to invite you to your niece's wedding." She lifted the wedding card and apprehensively placed it on the coffee table.

"You still expect me to come to the wedding?" Seema challenged with her eyebrow raised and her arms crossed over her bosom.

"Seema, let bygones be bygones. I pray Salman will have a pious and caring spouse." Ghazala desperately tried to sooth her sister. But it was to no avail.

"Do you know what my son has been through for the last few months? He had strong and sincere feelings for Nawal. And each day I have seen him living in despair and agony. I can't stand it anymore." Seema shot up ready to leave her sister. There was nothing left anymore in this relationship.

"Baji you have failed once in protecting me from harm and again today you really don't care. I was never important when we were teen girls and nor am I today significant in your life when we are grown women."

Ghazala shook her head tersely, "No Seema don't say that. You know what happened in the past wasn't entirely my fault. You were equally responsible."

The sisters glared at each other. Younger sister fuming at the older one. But the spell was broken when Salman sauntered in the living room. For the first time in months, Seema was astounded to see a broad smile on his face and his stance was relaxed. Too relaxed.

"Aaaah Khala jaan. Eid Mubarak."

Astonished, Ghazala stood up reluctantly and Salman embraced her. She was as perturbed as Seema, gaping at Salman, reading through this attitude of the young man.

Salman gaze flickered at the wedding card on the living room table and he smirked. "Is this Nawal's wedding card?"

Both women were dumbfounded to respond, "Inshaa Allah we will be there Khala. I don't want to miss it."

Seema's eyebrows knotted. What was her son talking about? Until recently, he was not ready to move on. And now he was thinking to attend the wedding. Disconcertingly she murmured, "Salman"

"Ammi, let's forget the past. It is time to make new bonds in the family." Salman declared pleasantly as he strode out of the room, leaving behind the perplexed sisters.

****

It was the mehndi (henna) night. Two days were left for the wedding. A women's only event was held in the Ahmed household where family and friends' women and girls were gathered to celebrate Nawal's wedding. The living room sofas were lined against the walls and the coffee tables were moved out. There was colourful oriental design large and small cushions placed on the floor that allowed women to easily sit on the floor. The walls were decorated with strings of fresh marigold flowers picked from the home backyard. In the centre of the living room henna platters and baskets full of bangles were set up. It was an evening of singing and dancing.

All the women gathered at the entrance of the living room as Fiza and Samreen escorted the bride in the room. The women sang traditional wedding songs when the bride set foot in the mehndi room. Nawal was dressed in the traditional bright yellow dress. Jasmin and rose garland were interlaced in her thick braid and fresh Jasmin and rose bangles adorned her wrists and the fresh flower hoop earrings dangled from her ears. She was seated on a floral decorated sofa. Amal and Manal sat on either side of the bride and started weaving intricate henna designs on her hand.

Sana was seated at the far end of the living room with the dholak (traditional wedding drum) and there were other women all sitting around her. They were merrily clapping and singing classic wedding songs to the latest Bollywood music hit numbers.

When Nawal's hands and forearms were covered with delicate henna patterns, the girls moved on to adorn her feet with henna. The older women were in the dining room helping out with the dinner set up while all the younger women were in the living room. That is when Sana had enough of singing and playing the dholak. She stood up and said loudly being able to grab everyone's attention, "Now ladies, it is the time we give some advice to our friend here who is about to get married. What do you say, married ladies?"

Most of the women were married only Amal and Manal were unmarried. There were ample women to give valuable marital advice to Nawal. Ramlah closed the living room door and announced, "After all, Nawal needs advice from the experienced ladies here."

Nawal blushed, her eyes widening at her two friends playfully mocking her. "Now the first thing first, we are not here to give you boring advices to be obedient wife. We are here to give you the REAL advice you would want to know."

The women erupted in laughter. Wandering to her, Sana continued, "I would say be strong and never easily agree to him if you think he is wrong."

"Because in every marriage one is right and the other is the husband," Ramlah added smilingly. The other women giggled.

"And don't pamper him. If you do he will be dependent on you forever," muttered Samreen.

"Oh yes, that will be a mistake. Don't take out his clothes and definitely don't run after him in the bathroom giving him his towel. Let him do his own jobs. He has done for thirty years, he very well can do for the next thirty years," Sana confirmed.

"Don't let him sweet talk you into anything. Think over the matter before you decide," Fiza voiced her opinion.

"Yes when he is wrong or angry on something you feel is not your fault, then don't go and make up with him until he realizes his mistake," Ramlah shared her experience.

"And if he is really angry just use the nightie trick," Sana teased.

"Nightie?" Nawal asked unsurely.

The women laughed, "My dear, man's anger disappears in an instant when they see their wife in a nightie," Ramlah smiled broadly with an impish twinkle in her dark eyes.

There was a roar of laughter. All this information was overwhelming. Nawal face was heated up. It was embarrassing. She was trying her best to suppress a nervous giggle. It seemed the women around her were having a blast from the conversation.

"You know the old saying kiss and make up. Well let's just say it is true," Fiza winked.

"Surely, that's all what men think about," mumbled Samreen annoyingly.

Nawal wanted to hide her face somewhere. Her hands' henna was still wet and so she was unable to move at all. This was mortifying especially listening to her sisters in law talking about their relationship with her brothers. She couldn't take it anymore.

"Bhabi! Fiza!" she groaned.

"Awww the bride is shy. Don't worry we are not going in the nitty gritty of anything. We are sparing you the details." Sana joked.

"Yes or if you want we can go into that too," Ramlah offered jokingly.

Nawal shook her head vigorously, "No I think I had enough marriage advice for one night."

Fiza switched on the music system, "Ok ladies time to dance."

And thus started the dancing of women. No one was an expert but they all loved moving with the music beat and making fun of each other. When Nawal's henna was dried, she was also dragged among the women and all the young women surrounded her in a circle, clapping their hands cheering her. Giddily, Nawal swayed with the music.

It was a night of fun and laughter. Everyone around Nawal didn't cease to tease her and continued to sing and dance. But deep down in her heart, there was fear. Ghastly dread that something was going to go wrong.

Little did she know few miles away her distress was becoming a reality.

****

In the dark street, Salman parked the car in front of his Taya's (uncle) house. He glanced at the person beside him, "You know what to do?" he asked to make sure she understood. From her continuous tapping of her feet, Salman was acutely conscious that she was tensed but he had to boost her confidence so that his plan would work.

"I am scared. I don't want to spite Daud." She whispered, her grey eyes widening.

"Don't worry, if you go according to my plan all will work out." Salman reassured her.

She was panicking. She had promised Daud to seal her lips. And now this strange man had risen hope in her shattered heart. She was concerned about the consequences of her actions. She didn't want to lose what precious support she had from Daud. She needed him badly. She swallowed hard, calming her nervous and walked out on unsteady legs. She was doing for a better future. A future she had dreamt of two years ago. A future, Daud had never promised her.

Biting her bottom lip anxiously, her clammy fingers pressed the doorbell. It was late, past sunset on the long summer days. Darkness was spreading just like how it had spread in her heart over the years, spending day and nights in loneliness and misery.

Chloe opened the door and raised her eyebrows questioningly, "Yes, How may I help you?"

"I am here to see Mr and Mrs Ibrahim Siddique." Words rushed out of her mouth before she would have changed her mind and ran away.

"I am Mrs. Siddique. How can I help you?" Chloe replied.

"I am here to speak about your son Daud." She gained courage and this time responded calmly.

Chloe eyed the woman. The light brown haired woman with grey eyes wearing a long maxi dress and a cardigan and in her arms was a sleeping toddler. He looked disturbingly familiar. "What about Daud?"

"It's a private matter. Can I come in?" she requested.

The young woman's emotional eyes made Chloe make the rash decision of opening her door wider and letting the stranger come in.

Ibrahim was in the living room watching the late night news. When Chloe and the younger woman entered the room, Ibrahim sat straighter, eyeing his wife inquisitively.

"This is...I am sorry I didn't ask your name?" Chloe started.

"Susan."

Chloe cleared her throat, "This is Susan. She wants to talk to us about Daud."

Ibrahim warily nodded and Chloe extended her arm in a gesture for the woman to sit down on one of the sofas.

For many minutes, there was an eerie silence. The older couple waited for Susan to have her say. But the young women was fiddling with the baby's t-shirt and averting to meet their gaze.

"What is it you want to talk to us about?" Chloe gently murmured, clearly identifying the woman was fretful.

"I ... I ... this is not easy for me."

"Go on child, we are here to listen," Ibrahim softly said.

The gentleness of the older couple comforted her to narrate the past. As she spoke, the older couple became uneasy and they glanced agitatedly at the baby in Susan's arms.

When Susan had explained everything, Ibrahim was furious. Clenching his jaw, he seethed, "this marriage will be stopped."