.

The lanes of Oxford street is cover with silver linings, a few rays of the dawn is filling the room slowly. I let my brown waves flow out of the scarf and sits upon the couch on our lounge after the Fajr prayer. I folded my legs under the heating blanket and the steaming cup of tea is resting upon the desk as I start writing this, again.

It's been nearly three-four months, I haven't written anything. And I am deeply remorseful for that fact. I love writing, it's my passion. But in past months I had been bustling with travelling and family. Oh and how much I enjoyed that.

I did. For never in these twenty-six years of life, Mysha Wazir had known what being close to family feels like until recently when I visited Pakistan. And that's the second-best decision of my life. First remains to marry my good for nothing husband, Kabeer Riaz.

Oh, and that man holds the strings of my heart and can get away with it, I wouldn't even protest. But he better not tries me there, I may not always stay with my words when it comes to him.

Oh and I know he wouldn't for that man is in love with me like I am his whole freaking universe and I'm not complaining, not at all.

I met Kabeer Raiz back in University, he was there for some internship and I was in my final year. After three months of seeing each other daily and with him being a total flirt, I gave in. Two years down the line, we got engaged and within a year tied the knot. And with that, Ammi, Alisha Raiz welcomes me with open arms. That's the very first idea of a mother figure in my life.

I lost my own mother when I was still an infant, my father, Wazir Ali never remarried. He was just happy with me being his only family. I was too. But then life hits us, brutally, startlingly. I was just nineteen summers when I lost him to cancer. And all I was left with was just some shit tons of pounds I can live my whole life with and loneliness. It was years later I met Kabeer.

And since then it's been all bursts of sunshine. I never knew I could be happy, but time and time again Kabeer Raiz proves me wrong.

First, he gave me a mother, Ammi. Oh and that woman I tell you.

"Mysha, Bachey khana khaa lon."

"Mysha Bachey Kabeer ki na suno tum chali jao ghar main dekh lungi."

"Mysha what about shopping?"

"Mysha finish your food properly."

And the list goes on and on. She is always behind me for one thing or the other. Always pampering me with one thing or the other. Sometimes I purposely show her some tantrums and she without a fail keeps up with it. Once I asked her why she does this, in reply her lips turns into a beautiful smile and her warm hands holds mine tightly, "I always wished for a daughter and now that I have one, I want to live this experience."

That was the I know her love is genuine, and I never questioned it.

We made our little family here. A place we call home.

When I and Kabeer got married all I know was he has a mother who lives with his uncle in Southall. And the first thing he wants after getting his job is to ask her to shift into her own house. That's what we did. We brought this apartment and then got married and shifted together.

And that was our life, laughing and beaming. At least that's what I thought

But then one monsoon night, I was awake working on my last article when I heard a sniffing sound. As if someone is muffling a cry and that's when I walk through the corridor following the din that leads me to Ammi's room. I knocked on the door twice and then waited for few seconds, when she didn't open I barged into her room only to find her with red bloodshot eyes and a forced smile. A furrow crossed my face as I move my eyes through her room and then my eyes landed behind her. The pillow and below that a white piece of shoved inside. I took a seat next to her and hugs her tight. This time I felt my dress getting wet and her trembling figure. I let her be like that for hours.

Later that night when I was lying with my head on her head, the letter in my hands and her words telling me a story I never knew about.

Ayesha Raiz had fallen in love with Imran Raiz. They were college sweethearts and they got married quite early. But it was later when Imran, Kabeer's father died in an unfortunate car accident she realised how hard life is.

"I was the only daughter in my house, always pampered." Amma started and I keep my eyes fixed upon her.

"When I said I want to marry him, my brothers were not really happy but seeing Imran being a good man they agreed nevertheless. It was after our wedding when I told them the truth I hide from them Though Imran was against the idea always I knew it was the only way to get ourselves married. His roots were in Pakistan, his family lives there whereas my family belongs to India. My brothers were enraged even disowned me, and that's when we shifted back to Islamabad."

"I never knew that Kabeer never told me," I said in a small voice.

"Kabeer never likes to talk about them." She smiles sadly whiles her hands move through my hair.

"He told me about Ayat Appi though," I said and on this, she actually smiles.

"Ayat is family, the only one who treated him like a brother"

"What about the others?" I ask and she leaves a long sigh.

After another few minutes of silence when I just thought she wouldn't reply, she started, "Back in Pakistan, the Raiz family holds a big empire of business. They treated Kabeer as an heir and never as a child. When I first went there, everything was pretty well, if not great. But then Imran left us, I was carrying seven months old Kabeer in my hands. They supported me through all, but then as Kabeer started growing up I began to realize, they were good people but Kabeer was a free bird just like his father. So I ask my brothers to come over and take me along. They didn't wait for my second call and rushed to Pakistan, and we shifted back here with a thirteen years old Kabeer and a fifteen years old Ayat."

"I met her during her last conference, that time I and Kabeer weren't dating," I said as I remember Ayat Appi, that woman is just the epitome of grace and beauty.

Her soft voice and shining brown eyes with a smile always playing on her lips. Her long hazelnut hair and that tiny diamond resting upon her left nose. She has been a beauty to behold.

"She told me about it. Ayat was here for five years, she did her graduation and then her postgraduation from here. Only went back when her mother asked her to. She wanted to come to your wedding too but couldn't, and I understand. It was never easy to leave that place." She said in a heavy voice and I didn't miss the tears beaming on her eyes.

"You are missing them?" I asked after some time.

"Imran had three brothers and a sister, he was the middle one. Ayat's father, Irfaan Bhai is the eldest one, the head of the family now. Imaan, the youngest one has three daughters. Two of them were married and lives with them only. The youngest one, Sanaya is getting married next month, this letter is an invitation for that from Amma jee. She isn't really well and wants to meet us." She bites her lips while blinking her eyes. I read the letter,

Alisha Begum,

Salaam. I hope y'all are doing well. Life is taking a toll upon me and I know these are my last few days. But before leaving, I want to see y'all for one last time. I want to see my Kabeer's dulhan once. You need to come here Alisha, I am not good with these calls but some things needed to be sorted out before I leave. For that, I need y'all here. Next month at Sanaya's wedding please do come. Yeh meri akhari khwahish hi samjh lon Bacchey. Meri Imran ki akhir nishani ko dekhne ka ek akhiri khwahish maan lon. Warna waha jake apne bete ko kya muh dikhaungi.

Tumhare interzaar mein,

Amma Jee

And that's how our journey to Pakistan started. Well, not an easy task providing Kabeer straight away denied us. But then with us being against him, almost disowning him and throwing him out of the house, he agreed. We got our visas and all the procedures. He was happy for only one thing, he is gonna meet Ayat Appi after a decade.

I was thrilled with the thought of it, I was for the first time going to visit a desi family. And finally, I'm going to meet Ayat Appi too. Little did I know, I was going to push open the doors of the haweli and the lies with split up, the walls of honour will fall upon and all the buried truths will come to the surface. Little did I know, Kabeer should have visited them earlier, maybe five springs ago.