₦airaland Forum

Deiok: I dont think thats a good idea, i will prefer you continue to put the story here, by time more people will comment. And also i think this story should be move to FP.

If you think so but am not keen on moving the story to FP until it is complete, when d mods feel it is worthy of FP, den they should move it by their own will.

I hate 9ja, Deiok and harlos, Thanks a bunch guys, I really appreciate you. But if am not forgetting, you three have been my biggest followers on a forum of more than 10k members, Sincerely speaking, d effort I am putting on typing and updating this story regularly is worth more than just three followers (The three means alot though ), but be fair enough.

Maybe I should just send you three guys a link where you'll finish reading up the story. What do you say?

That was a wonderful piece. More grease to your elbow and more ideas to your head. It was really nice reading your story and I hope to read more in the future. Keep the flag flying, ma'am

I got a lil problem with my phone since yesterday evening, so I couldn't update today. All I was thinking was how my readers will be waiting anxiously and asking for more updates.

But I came here only to find an abandoned thread . Well that tells me just one thing, nobody is really interested in this story and its boring, So I think its high time I stop writing. Thanks for being with me to this point, I really appreciate the effort you took in encouraging me. Please Mynd, close dis thread.

Deiok: ^^^
These are my questions.
I think the silent lover should be Sheeba. Am i right

harlos: Sikander is the silent lover i guess

aariz's mother will not want it to happen at all cost, she is serious

Thats not right. Neither Sheeba nor Sikandrr is d silent lover, but mayb in d nxt two updates, u'll be able to guess right.

[quote author=j-gatherer]This is getting interesting ![/quote], yeah

harlos: Owww...

Its a pity thier parent do not understand thier feelings.

This gettin more interesting, more strenght to ur finges that type

Thnx

I Hate 9ja: keep it up

I will

harlos: Lol. Mother's wish not son wish.

I don't think he can fall in love with any other girl

Will you bet on dat?

A call on Sunday morning from his maternal uncle's town shattered all of Aariz's plans.

"You'd best come down at once, Mrs. Ali. Your cousin took ill during the night, and......" Someone told his mother.

"I'm on my way!"

Crashing down the receiver, Mrs. Ali motioned him to stand up and left hurriedly to her room to change.

It was Sunday and he was sitting with his father on the breakfast table, chatting about current affairs of the country when the call came.

"Abbas uncle?" He questioned his father, quite unfamiliar with the name.

"Yes." His father said. "Your mother's cousin, the eldest son of her aunt."

"Oh I remember now." Aariz sighed. "The same man who had a massive stroke attack a few months ago right?" Aariz asked.

"Yes." Mr. Ali told him. "Due to some complications and family disputes, your mother's family and his family didn't go along well. Still, he has visited us a few times but you were in U.S. in those days."

"But he is not my real uncle." Aariz said, confused at his mother's reaction to see Abbas uncle instantly.

"I mean, he is just a cousin of my mother. Why is she so desperate to visit him?"

"There is something else too." His father smiled gently. "She never hid it from me and I always appreciate her for that."

"And what's that?"

Mr. Ali sighed and lit up his cigar.

"Your mother and Abbas were very close to each other since their childhood. Often, your mother used to go to his village to spend vacations with his family. They both got very close, perhaps even loved each other."

Aariz was suprised as his father talked about his mother's past affair so casually, without showing any discomfort or displeased remark. He searched his father's face for any sign of anger or jealousy, but he looked quite normal.

"They both wanted to get married, ofcourse. But your mother's parents were not happy with their relation."

"Why?" Aariz felt sad for the two.

"Thy said, they didn't want to give their daughter into the same family and also.....Abbas Hasan was not established then. So they accepted my offer, rejecting him."

"Oh." Aariz was truly shocked as his father gradually revealed the hidden story.

"But then, your mother started a total new life with me, always preferring me on anyone else like any typical traditional eastern wife would. She never disobeyed me and always respected me and accepted me as her husband."

"But father, don't you see how she's behaving with me now?" Aariz asked stifly, looking clearly disappointed due to his mother's strange behavior. "If she's been a victim of the same thing, she's supposed to care more about my feelings then."

"But your mother's case was different." His father went on, explaining. "Abbas was her cousin. He was from the same sect and community but you want to bring a totally different girl into our family."

"So what Dad?" Almost against his will, his temper began to surface again.

"Take your time Aariz." His father said simply, giving his arm a reassuring squeeze.

He wanted to laugh.

"Take time? For what?" He smiled painfully and said, " Parents and elders talk weird at times. When we don't have someone in mind, you tell us to hurry, not to waste our time, and when we finally begin to like someone, you say take your time. This is really funny."

He then heard the sound of approaching footsteps and from the corner of his eyes, he saw his mother coming into the dinning hall. He thought of his mother's behaviors lately and frowned.

"Aariz, you've not changed yet?" She asked in a quick manner.

He stifled a groan. Komal's call from London was expected any moment. His uncle couldn't have picked a worse time to get sick.

"Mother, you can take father with you." He said under his tongue.

His mother scanned him with piercing eyes. "No." She reiterated. "You're going with me and that's my last word on the subject. Now get down to your feet.....and watse no more time."

"Go with her." His father tapped his shoulder with affection. "Be gentle with your mother, she's already been hurt alot."

He then whispered slowly.

"Your uncle is leaving this world."

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

The traffic was thin, this being it was a cold, wet sunday, and they were soon out of the city and belting across flat landscape.

Mrs. Ali sighed and closed her eyes, not wanting to talk. Aariz glanced at her but said nothing.

He knew that she was depressed and tensed. Not only she was worried about her sick cousin, but was worried about him too.

After a long, tiring journey, he was glad when his mother announced that they were not very far from their destination. They made a five-hour trip north to their city with the top down and Aariz was beginning to feel the effects of being totally windblown.

"How much more, Mother?" He asked with total disinterest.

"Not much, we're almost there."

The maroon Honda Accord flew past the fields of gently swaying sugar cane, the purple flowering tops announcing time for harvest. The air was thick with the sweet scent of sugar as plantation owners torched their crops to rid it of weeds, leaves and other pest before harvesting. It felt like a peaceful dreamland, he had to admit.

The farm was totally isolated, hidden from the world by majestic sand dunes and a young forest of trees on their left and a deeper, wilder wood to their right. A peaceful and calm serenity surrounded the whole place. Birds chirped in the branches of the graceful old trees and honeybees droned sleepily among the flowering shrubs.

"Now turn to the right." She told him as he swung the car in that direction.

"This is it." She told him as she unbuckled the seat belt.

The last house on the left appeared and Aariz stopped the car at the driveway entrance. Many children in dirty cloths gathered around their car to touch it, and looked at them with astonishment in their eyes.

Poor villagers! He thought. How can one live in such a small town, totally isolated from luxuries and facilities of city life.

He house belonged to Abbas Hasan, the tough 60 year old cousin of his mother. Although, she had insisted a lot and invited him many times to come and start a new life in the city but he refused to even consider such an option. Widowed at an early age and never remarried, he was very much happy in his village and with his people.

Aariz had met him only once, and that was in his childhood. So he didn't know much about him. Although during the last three months, he heard his mother saying he was suffering from a stroke.

As he followed his mother toward the main door of the house, his eyes were drawn suddenly to an upstairs window. A curtain had been pulled partly back and they were being watched by a woman, probably.

He didn't pay much attention to that, and rather suspected that the hidden, imposing figure belonged to some maid.

Someone opened the door, and they got in.

The house was full of people, but most of them were villagers. All of them had gathered around a bed, on which, lay an old, weak man.

As they moved nearer, Aariz could now clearly see what he looked like. He was propped up with pillows, and a man with stethoscope and medical box, probably his family doctor, was seated beside him. As he approached him with his mother, he could see a bright lively twinkling in the old man's eyes.

"So you are here." He sighed loudly, as he saw Aariz's mother, and from the way he looked up at her, Aariz could very well guess that they were very much familiar with each other, even more than he thought.

His hair must have been black at one time but was now totally white, as fine as spun silk around his spare-boned face, gloriously decorated with a fine, medium sized beard, which suited him really well. His skin was wrinkled and his body was thin----yet as Aariz came forward to shake hands, he moved with unmistakable grace and his face held charm.

"How could I leave you in this condition?" Mrs. Ali replied, tears glistening in her eyes. "This is Aariz, my son."

"Wow, my son." He tried to straightened himself up, but couldn't, his eyes gradually narrowing until they settled on him and then spread wide again.

Aariz visibly responded, his face softening as he lept toward Abbas uncle and hugged him affectionately.

"Do sit down, my dear, sit here, near me." Abbas Hasan told him, taking a short pause to cough. "My eyesight isn't as good as it was, and I like to be able to see my guests."

"You're a carbon copy of your mother, same features, same grace....." He brought his trembling fingers to touch him, his shaky hands caressing Aariz's cheeks slowly.

"You people can leave now." Abbas Hasan told the surrounding people in a weak, low voice. "Thank you so much for you co-operation and support. Don't forget me in your prayers." He gasped.

Slowly but quietly, they left the room, leaving three of them alone in the room with the doctor.

"So, how's your condition?" Mrs. Ali asked desperately, her face clearly showing how much worried she was.

"I don't have much time, now." He tried to smile.

"Don't talk like this." She said quickly, and then turned to his doctor.

"Doctor, what do you suggest?"

"Stroke combined with angina and T.B has made his conditiom worse. He really needs to be shifted to the city hospital as early as possible." Doctor told them.

"That's why I'm here." Mrs. Ali said, giving Abbas Hasan a worried look. "To take him with me."

"No." Abbas Hasan shook his trembling hand. "It will be of no use now."

There was a slight movement on the light green curtain hanging on the door. They all noticed it.

"Take the cups." Abbas Hasan told Aariz, pointing toward the curtain. "I'm sorry, right now I can't offer anything other than tea."

"Don't talk like this, Abbas." Mrs. Ali cried out in pain. "We understand. There was no need for this either."

As Aariz left his chair and reached near the curtain, he heard the musical sound of bangles striking together.

Someone was there. Some female was definitely there, behind the curtain.

Almost like a flash, someone brought the tray containing teacups and biscuits in front of him from behind the curtain. It was so fast and sudden that he couldn't even see the hands of the person offering him the tray. Shrugging his shoulders, he returned back to his mother and uncle.

They slowly sipped their tea in silence.

"It's been a long time since I last saw you." Mrs. Ali cast Abbas Hasan a look of pure longing and sympathy.

"Yes. But still seems like yesterday." He tried to smile in answer.

Aariz shifted uncomfortably on his chair. He had no interest in whatever these two elders were talking about.

Feeling odd, uneasy and bored from their conversation, Aariz rose from his place to leave the room. There was a gallery leading towards the balcony. Aariz made a short survey of the house as he stepped toward the balcony. There were four tiny rooms, the kitchen and lounge seperated from the two bedrooms by a short, narrow hall. At the far end of the hall was a bathroom. It was a small but yet, very neat and clean house.

"Beauty lies in simplicity." Staring at the old but well-arranged furniture, Aariz thought.

Once outside, he breathed into fresh fragrant farm air. This place is absolutely and naturally beautiful, he thought. He looked at the farm fields and surrounding lush green mountains and came to a stand at the balcony to have a better view of the village and its people. Aromatic pines and Mango trees surrounded the village. Beyond the house were fields and dispirited-looking cattle, heads dropping in the downpour. But despite of all that beauty, for him, there was nothing to do here.

"I would return first thing in the morning." He told himself.

Taking short sips of his tea after long intervals, he was truly enjoying the beautiful natural countryside, without having the slightest idea of what was going on behind him.

"I saw your girl, a long time ago. She couldn't be more than seven or eight at that time, right?" Mrs. Ali asked, looking into his teary eyes.

"Oh yes." Abbas Hasan smiled weakly. "She's twenty one now."

"I imagine it's been a struggle raising a child on your own."

"It hasn't been easy." He groaned.

"Angina, stroke, and now this tuberculosis." He began to cough. "I just have only one wish now, may my Allah choose some nice man for her soon. She is very simple and compromising.

Just then an idea strucked her, didn't even think twice about it, she spoke almost immediately.

"Don't talk like this Abbas." She felt heart-broken at his condition, tears running down her cheeks. "Allah has already made a great match for her, a very nice guy." She smiled through the thin film of tears in front of her eyes.

"Really?" Abbas Hasan shifted in his bed to turn his face toward her, his face appearing even weaker due to incertainty. "Who?"

"We have our Aariz." She said proudly.

"Aariz?" Abbas Hasan's eyes began to wrinkle with an everlasting hope. "But...."

"Why?" She looked at his dry face with her wet eyes. "Don't you like him?"

"I do like him. I love him. I still love each and everthing that belongs to you." Sentences came slowly out of his mouth. "It's just that I don't think they match each other." He went on. "My daughter has been born and raised here in the village, while your son has been in U.S. for his studies. Also, your status is very high, we're middle class financially."

"I don't care about that." Mrs. Ali shook her head, as usual very much sure about herself. "They are definitely suitable for each other, as they have the same blood, same roots....."

"Think twice, Sadia." He murmured, like he was still unsure. "I don't want to spoil your son's life."

"It will only make him more mature." Stated Mrs. Ali thoughtfully. "Infact it will make his life beautiful."

"But what if......" He said in a weak voice, still having some serious concerns about her decision.

"No 'what ifs'." Mrs. Ali raised her hand to stop him from further arguement.

"Don't worry about your daughter. She's my responsibility now." Mrs. Ali announced in an emotional tone, her voice thick and heavy.

"Wait, I'll go and get him" She finally said and then left the room to look for her son.

"Aariz, where are you?"

He whirled at the sound of his name being called out in a scream.

But now he realized from his mother's distressed state but nothing simple was going on there.

"Aariz, you're getting married right now, with your cousin." She dropped her bombshell.

Arif Khan scowled down at the newspaper while he ate his breakfast.

There was a tap on the door, he glanced up frowning, "Yes?"

"Morning Daddy." She came forward and hugged her father affectionately. A Man of nearly fifty with neat, grey hair and pale brown eyes, he and his daughter had always been close to each other.

"Enjoying your morning paper?" She inquired pleasantly.

"Enjoying?" He laughed, swaying slowly on his easy chair. "The morning newspaper are where they begin with 'Good Morning' and then proceed to tell you why it isn't."

His funny sentence made her laugh.

"This is my day, Daddy seems to be in a good mood." She thought, feeling more relaxed.

"Daddy.....I need to talk to you about something very important."

"That's very rare, isn't it?" He asked back, his chair still swaying back and fourth.

"What?"

"I mean it's not everyday that you want to talk to me about something important."He smiled teasingly.

"Oh Daddy." She gave him a fake angry look. "I'm serious."

"Alright. I am here." He folded the newspaper and kept it down on the table. "What's the problem, hmmm?"

"Well......" Komal thought for a moment, searching for the right words to begin with.

"Now or never." She thought.

"Daddy..... I like someone." She told him at once.

His swaying chair stopped for a moment.

For the first few moments, he couldn't speak, shocked or suprised? She couldn't tell from his expression.

When at last he spoke,his voice was very tired.

"I knew this was going to happen finally."

"Why do you think so?" Komal asked, keeping her voice low.

"Because you never trusted my choice. You never gave a single thought to what I liked for you."

"You mean Sikander?"

"You know very well what I mean." He said harshly.

"And now you're telling me at this stage when your mother is almost finished with your marriage preparations."

"Yes....." Komal said, without waiting for him to finish his sentence. "It's not my fault because it's only now I found someone who is just like my ideal. As for marriage preparations, I'm ready for that, but with Aariz Ali ofcourse."

As she took Aariz's name, her father's eyes glared at her in an unpredictable fashion like he couldn't believe she could decide about this most important matter of her life without even informing him.

"Since when have you started making your decisions alone" He asked sacarstically.

"Daddy, it's me who'd have to spend life with him alone and only I can decide about it." She said fiercely, saw her father's startled face and swallowed.

"What does he do, where is he from?"

"He is from a nice family. He lives in Karachi; his father is a big business man."

He averted his eyes for a moment.

"Is he from our own religious school of thought?" He asked in a dry tone.

"What?" Komal couldn't believe he could ask such a thing. Her 'moderate, modern and broadminded' father was asking this question at this stage.

"No, he is not." She looked angry, stern and deadly serious.

" I don't want to talk on this topic now." He said icily and unfolded the newspaper again, ignoring her eyes.

"But Daddy, they are muslims." She protested.

"That's not the only thing that matters." He replied back.

She didn't say anything, just sat there in a state of complete shock, remembering the famous lines of the famour Pakistani poet, Ahmed Faraz.

"Only when I saw the weather's style, I realized how quickly people could change."

"I..... I am sorry Daddy. I'll have to change my opinion about you now. You always taught me that a person should be moderate in everything, including his religion, and we should keep balance between our world and our faith. But now when the time has come....." She couldn't finish her sentence, her voice became husky due to intensity of her emotions.

Her father shifted his position on his chair, feeling extremely uncomfortable due to his daughter's remarks. And then for the first time in his life, he regretted his statement. Religion had always been something secondary for him only after his worldly preferences, and now, the result was in front of him.

He looked at her for a long moment, like he was searching for something in her face. He loved her dearly and couldn't see her sad.

Feeling the heat of his eyes on her face, Komal lowered her eyes and began to play with her nails.

Then, she heard her father letting out a long breath.

"Well, your mommy would deal with that honey." He decided, avoiding her eyes, glancing at the newspaper.

She got to her feet with an imapatient lunge.

"This is the most important decision of my life, Daddy and you're not even paying attention to it."

"No, don't get me wrong." He put down the newspaper and looked deeply into his daughter's eyes.

"I'm with you darling, and that's why the only one left is your mother, go and ask her."

"Can't you convince her Daddy?" She asked, her features looking less tense now.

"Convince for what dear?" He asked innocently. "I don't even know this guy. I never met him; don't know his family and background. If we live in London, that doesn't mean that we have adopted each and everything of western culture."

He looked at her for a few seconds and then added,

"There are some things to be considered before taking such big step."

"Like what?" She forced out, blinking back her tears.

"Like family background, community, status.......

"I told you." She cut in before he could finish. "Their status is not less than ours. Financially, they are well-off."

"Okay, I even leave status.....as money is not important for me more than you happiness." He argued. "But as far as the matter of religious community is concerned, that can't be compromised for sure." He stated a matter of fact and then stopped talking.

He was at a loss of words, and she filled the silence with her own.

"Leave it Daddy." She laughed huskily. "I know you are saying this only because you want me to be with your 'ruler' Sikander."

"Go, and talk to you Mom about it."

"We talk about moderation and call ourselves 'open minded' and 'modern', yet we are the same from inside; Backward, traditional fanatics." Komal's voice began to shake with emotions but she didn't stop.

"Don't misunderstand.........

"I'm not misunderstanding anything, Daddy." She pushed her feet with force on the floor. "Infact, only now I've understood everything."

He waited until he heard the door slam before he returned to his newspaper

As soon as she closed the door angrily, she caught her breath for what she saw in front of her. Her mother was there, standing closely to the door.

She have heared everything for sure.

"Mom..... I'm sorry." Komal stammered weakly. She was not, in any sense, prepared to face her mother in this condition.

Her mother just looked at her with shock, without saying a single word. Turning silently, Mrs. Khan took her first step toward her room, her feet trembling with the height of her patience, her blood pressure reaching its maximum limits.

"Mom, trust me. I didn't have any control for that. It......it just happened." Komal tried to explain following her mother.

"Mom.......

Silence.

"Mom, he is very nice. Like me, he doesn't care about this damn Shiyah-Sunni stuff. I really love him Mom, I really love him. I can't live without him."

There was no answer.

"Mom, please say something." Fearfully, Komal reached to take her mother's hand in hers, feeling really scared because of her mother's strange silence, which was a clear indication of some forthcoming storm.

"Mom......

"Do you want an answer?" Mrs. Khan asked suddenly, turning quickly to face her.

"Yes." Komal bit her lower lip.

"Here it is......"

SLAP!!!

Her mother lashed out at her, catching her offguard, her fingers leaving a red line across her cheek, and her head snapped back for a second.

That was a definite answer from her mother. Her hand had imprinted all five fingers on her soft fragile cheek.

"Satisfied now?" Her mother asked coldly. Throwing one last ignoring look at her, her mother closed her bedroom door at her, leaving her alone in the gallery.

Wrenching violent sob seized Komal's body as she fell a limp heap onto the cold, smooth floor. Her legs were no longer capable of holding her up.

She resisted the urge to scream out her frustration and dropped her head between her knees, sobbing, trying to wash her anger and sadness through her tears.

No one sees anything. She thought to herself; no one would ever know what I think or how I feel.

Her parents had no concern for her as a person, for her likes or dislikes. She felt that, to them, she was nothing more than a pawn to be used to gain advantage for them as they tried to be elavated to the peerage.

She remembered very well that her parents had never told her about Islamic history in detail. Her mother had never told her anything about her own sect. She had never seen her mother wearing the Hijaab, and had never found her father praying five times regularly. But now, they were acting like they were the greatest Muslims in the world.

harlos: Lol. Childrens day indeed.

Marawa is a fun loving fellow. It is very easy to give advise than to act on it.

This thing of diff sect has to do with thier children's future but they can still merge to be one, just that thier parent are selfish about thier sides. They should just leave this two love birds alone

I see u still dnt understand hw the Pakistani society take sectarian differences, even in their real lives, there is a huge difference and getting into inter-sectarian marriages is a very huge mistake. All the same, I still think these lovebirds should be left alone. Well lets keep going and see what happens.
How will Komal's parents take it? Will Arif Khan give up on wanting Komal to marry Sikander, the ruler?

What is Aariz's mother going to do about the problem?

Are they going to get throught this and get married?

Who is actually the silent lover?

Who can guess

...

.....

Just found this now. Got me laffing real good

MacT33: I got to see your work through this: https://www.nairaland.com/1466615/most-painful-death-loved-one/1
I could not afford to have pass by this thread,after reading,without attesting to the fact that U're a good writer. Accept my sympathy @ Ur frnd Basheer...May he rest in Peace...

Ameen and thanks

Mawara, dressed in a business suit with a silk blouse underneath, was waiting at their table when Komal arrived at Penthouse Restuarant on the top floor of West Brooks.

"You're always late!" She complained as Komal dropped into the seat opposite her.

"But your dress is worth it." Mawara smiled at her friend. "Must be very expensive."

"Not really." Komal shook her hair care-freely by a gentle push of her left hand. "I'm not that prodigal."

"Do you think women are more extravagant than men?" Mawara asked thoughtfully.

"Umm, I suppose yes." Komal said. "A man will pay two dollars for a one dollar item he needs but a woman will pay one dollar for a two dollar item she doesn't need."

Mawara laughed, nodding her head in agreement.

"What about you?" Komal looked at her from head to toe. "Back to trousers?"

"No..... I still prefer hipsters." Mawara told her.

"Good for you." Komal said, picking up the menu as the waitress approached.

"Have you ordered?" Komal looked at her friend's face as she nodded in the negative. "Good then, I'll just have melon, club sandwiches and the bean and pasta salad."

"Pasta?" Mawara made a bad mouth. "So fattening, don't do it."

Komal laughed. "Pasta is okay if there's no rich sauce with it. Shall we have soft drinks too?"

"Well mineral water for me." Mawara said plainly.

When the waitress had gone, she said, " I am sorry I was late, Mawara---I was stuck in traffic. London is hell these days."

"So is life" Mawara said mournfully.

Komal gave her an amused look. "Is it? What happened now? Broke up again with someone?"

Mawara's life was full of dramas; it kept Komal constantly entertained.

"You're so cynical." Mawara accused. "You always think the worst." She said huskily, like she was almost about to cry.

"Hey, what's the matter?" Komal asked again, looking into her eyes, trying to find the answer there. "Boss being a jerk?"

"Someone betrayed me." Mawara said with tears in her eyes, then laughed when she saw the look of terror in Komal's eyes.

"Oh stop it! I'm not pregnant!"

Komal laughed weakly, that was exactly what she had feared.

"What happened then?" Komal questioned.

"You know what men are like. Two dates and they think they can put you to their bed." Mawara cursed under her tongue.

"Would you mind telling me what exactly happened to you?"

"Well." Mawara sighed aloud, then said, " I met this Paki guy online who seemed so stupid. He started to tell all those funny dialogues and stuff even on our first chat. Believe me Komal.....he looked so simple.....so plain."

"And you took full advantage of that, right?" Komal asked with a look of anger in her eyes.

"Haha, ofcourse, whatelse could I do?" Mawara winked naughtily. "But in the end he did the reverse." She made a crying face. "But man....whoa, this guy is one hell of a kisser."

"So, did he flirt with you or something?"

"You can say that." Mawara said. "He asked me, 'have you seen Britney Spears?'"

"I said, 'ofcourse, many times'."

"'Your figure is just like hers' ." Mawara copied him. "But I'd forget this one too. I can't stuck myself up to one guy only." She added.

Komal flushed angrily. "You're out of your mind."

She then bit her lower lip as the waitress brought their first course.

She said, forking a piece of melon, looking down.

"Stop living like this Mawara." Komal said flatly.

"What do you mean?" Protested Mawara.

"Don't you think a mature man is better than some girl-carzy kid?" Komal asked gently, feeling for her childhood friend.

"Whatever." Mawara said stiffly. "I've no intention of falling in love until I'm sure the guy is in love with me, and means it."

The waitress came along and whisked their plates away and was back a moment later with their main courses.

"However, a few making-out sessions in the back seat of cars do make you mature." Mawara smiled devilishly.

"I hate it when you talk like this." Komal said angrily

Mawara's eyes widened as the waitress arrived with club sandwiches, set the plates down and left.

"There is this new club in North London. I'm planning to visit it tonight. Want to go?" Mawara grinned and lifted the steaming brew to her lips.

"You know very well that I've never been to night clubs." Komal replied in a serious tone.

"Look Komal, you're going to learn to be less up tight. You've been to places I can only dream of, and met people I never will, and that's great; but you're back in the good old England now, and you need to try to fit more than you have. Try letting some of those formidable defenses down a little." Mawara lifted her chin and began methodically removing frilled toothpicks from the sections of her sandwich.

Komal stopped chewing and swallowed, her eyes snapping.

"You know, you really should wear something other than jeans to school. I'm telling you, university period is the best time you'll ever have, and with a body like that you could have them eating off your hand."

"Do you think of me as one of those who came to college to find a husband?" Komal asked, not believing what her friend had just said.

"No big deal if you give it a try anyway." Mawara said without much care.

"What do you mean?" Komal flashed her an angry look. "Didn't you get my email about that guy in Karachi?"

Komal heard Mawara gasp aloud.

"Oh......" She let out a longer than usual breath. "So were you really serious?"

"I've never been this serious about anything in my whole life." Komal said confidently.

"Sorry." Mawara whispered, her eyes sparkling. "Okay, I'm serious now." She straightened herself up on the chair, changing her facial expressions.

"Tell me about him." Mawara said evenly.

"What does he look like?" Mawara wanted to know and Komal was quite astonished how clearly a picture of him sprang into her head.

"Come on, Komal. Spit it out!"

"Handsome, wealth, and hard, cruelly hard." Komal added almost defaintly, her hand trembled a little as she poured coffee from the resturant carafe into her cup.

"Okay, slow down for a second girl, you're talking way too fast. Now what's this all about again?"

"We met in some wedding and fell for each other instantly. He is daring and bold but still reserved, and this is what I really like about him" Komal said as she braced both arms against the edge of the table and leaned toward her friend, glaring.

"But there's a problem." Komal lowered her voice to a whisper.

"Umm.....not unexpected."

Komal looked back at her silently, as if asking why it was not inexpected.

"I mean....." Mawara got her message. "Most love stories do have some problems. They don't often go so smoothly like we expect them to be." She gave Komal's hand a reassuring squeeze.

"So tell me, what's the problem?"

"He is from a different sect."

"What nonsense." Mawara flushed aggresively. "You can't be serious."

"Well.... Mawara, for some 'conservative' people, it's really a matter of life and death."

"And who are those 'conservative' people?" Mawara asked sarcastically.

"Parents." Komal said shortly.

"Umm." Mawara tapped her head back to the chair and a long breath escaped out of her lips.

"That I can believe." She said, lost in her thoughts now. "Some of those typically backward Paki parents really have a thing for stuffs like that."

"That's what I'm really afraid of." Komal said in a worried tone.

"Parents are either completely blind, or they don't miss a trick." Mawara murmured.

"I'm really scared Mawara." Komal gasped. "I can't imagine myself living without him now. What if my parents object?"

"Hard cheese. It's your life, not theirs, and no one can dictate how you live it." Mawara said mercilessly.

Her face softened as she saw the glitter of tears in Komal's eyes. She had to change this sensitive topic now.

"Komal......what about some joint?" She addressed her friend, as she brought a long, white cigarette out of her purse.

"What's this?" Komal asked, her eyes growing wider as she stared at the weird cigarette.

"Let's try Sheesha today." Mawara winked for the third time today.

"Sheesha?" Komal couldn't understand what she meant. "Is it some drug?"

"Oh no.....plain leaves. Nothing else. It soothes your mind." Mawara said as she lit the fore-end of the cigarette. "It's fun you know. Something very good to smoke."

"I'd rather keep myself away from your stupid things." Komal said repulsively.

"Can you?" Mawara said, exhaling smoke with the words. "I guess you probably had a pretty good time back in Pakistan."

"What the hell do you mean?" Komal inquired arrogantly, although she knew Mawara was just joking to make her mood better.

"The Paki guys must be all over you on dates."

"Stop it Mawara. Be serious, what do you think I am?"

"You?" Mawara repeatedly amusedly. "A very attractive girl."

"You turn heads, Komal." Mawara said seductively. From her expression, Komal could see that she was back to her typical funny mood again, and now it was useless to talk to her about 'him'.

After they had eaten their club sandwiches, Mawara drove her friend back home. As they reached Komal's house, Mawara threw one last look at her best friend, with wide frightened eyes.

"If anything happens to you......" Mawara left her sentence unfinished.

"Nothing is going to happen to me." Komal gave her a confident smile. "I just need your best wishes."

"Yes, the biggest thing has already happened to you!" Mawara's features softened as she saw the happy, content face of Komal.

"What's the date tomorrow, by the way?" Mawara asked suddenly.

"14th November." Komal told her, confused at her sudden change of track. "Why do you ask?"

"Do you know why 14th November is called Children's day?" Mawara asked very seriously.

"No, why?"

"Because it is exactly nine months after Valentines day."

Komal's loud laughter followed her as she pushed down the accelarator.

Deiok: Voting has commence in the
literature award thread just
clink here =>> http:// nairaland.com/1467988/
literature-section-awards-2013#18631772

And vote this story, for a
more organise voting, we
should vote this story in a
particular genre, I will advice you vote this story under romance genre, inorder for
this story to garner more vote
under one genre.

Thanks Deiok, U are really amazing. Please fellow Nairalanders who wish to vote this story, we should heed to his advice and vote the story under romace genre. Silent readers who find it hard to comment should please take out time to vote. Thanks once again.

Btw, what is d prize for dis award?

Deiok: Well its like komal is finding it difficult to tell her parents about Aariz.
You havent write anything about Komal's mum, and Aariz father.

Once again nice one. Thank for the update.

I'll come to that gradually. U r most wlcm.

He lay on his bed and stared unblinkingly up at the ceiling. Not even the rythmic lapping of the waves could soothe his shattering senses. It seemed impossible that only a short while ago he had been filled with such a delicious feeling of excitement, happiness and a sense of satisfaction. Now all he felt was a deep-rooted gloom.

He couldn't even imagine that his own 'modern' broad-minded mother would turn out to be so typical and conservative on the question of his marriage. He simply couldn't believe it. His mother was behaving like a narrow minded, religious fanatic instead of a highly educated professional that she was.

His mother had cursed him so much today that he couldn't believe it. Breathing fire and thunder, and making threats he didn't take seriously but which left him edgy and irritable.

She had become even angrier and shouted that he will not marry Komal as long as she's alive.

He knew any further protest would seem foolish and cowardly and he didn't want her thinking he was either. His mother had made him believe that he was practically one of her family, and her only child but it was becoming increasingly obvious that she was truly selfish when it came to her traditions and favor.

Yes, he thought painfully. For his mother, her customs, heritage and traditions were more important than her son, her own blood and flesh.

His mind whirled endlessly with questions he couldn't possibly answer.

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

Komal shut herself in her bedroom and called his phone. Aariz picked at first ring. Her heart was pounding so painfully when he came on the line, so much that for a second she couldn't speak.

"We should forget each other Aariz." Komal said with no preamble as soon as she found her voice. "I know it's not normal to just walk out from one's life but I can't give you more time. We have to part from this moment."

The words burst out like a despairing cry and there was silence for a minute before he said quietly.

"I know.......you don't have to tell me the story." Aariz said, feeling very much guilty for his mother's reaction.

She remained silent.

"I never expected it even in my wildest nightmares that my mother would turn out to be this crude when it comes to her only son's happiness." Aariz almost cried with pain. "She has totally disappointed me."

"So....what do we do now?" She breathed a cold sigh. "Should we say goodbye to each other now?"

"No way." His pulse raced. "I've been an obedient son so far but that doesn't make me a coward."

He then took a little pause, as if gathering his breaths.

"I have made the plan."

"What plan?"

"I'd try to pressurize her through my father." He told her determined.

"What if that didn't work either?" She asked in a low tone.

"Then...." He said firmly. "Then, we'll do a court marriage."

For a moment, Komal was shocked to her very core.

"You mean you'd leave your parents?"

"For you......" He breathed. "Yes, I can go even far than that."

Although, this was not the moment, but his words showered her in a rain of weird satisfaction and possessiveness.

"Now, it's your turn." Aariz said in a deep tone. "Try to tell your parents about our decision."

"What if they don't agree?" Komal asked, her voice filled with worried tone.

"Then....." Aariz took a long, shuddering breath. "Then, it would be your choice, whether you want to live with your parents or with me."

"Don't say that." She cried out emotionally."You know very well that I can't even imagine spending my life without you. I love you Aariz."

"So do I." Aariz murmured, his voice thick and heavy with affection and feelings. "Okay, we'd wait and see for a week. Let's see if our parents respect our choice and wish."

"What if they don't?" Komal inquired, her voice trembling because of some unknown fear.

"In that case....." Aariz made his mind before he said. "I'd wait for you here. Get back to Karachi and we'd do a court marriage."

Court marriage! Komal gasped and shuddered at the thought.

"Okay." She said. "I will call you after I talk to my parents about it."

She put the phone down straight away, only just hearing his startled exclamation as he rasped out her name, and then she pushed him out of her mind, not out of her heart though.

In his part of the world, Aariz had reached a certain decision after sleepless nights. They had to get married at any cost. He couldn't leave her, couldn't afford to lose her at any price.

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

Waiting at the cabin door was the Senior Attendant, a black-haired woman of about 38. As each passenger went by, she gave him or her the ritual farewell.

"I hope you had an enjoyable flight. Thank you for flying with us and hope to see you again soon."

"Well....I hope to see you again too." Komal gave her an equally refreshing smile. "In a flight to Karachi."

She picked up her handbag and followed her mother toward the terminal lounge.

Well........ She was back in London.

Spring was late that year. The weather had been wet and chilly for weeks; people made their hurried, frowning way to work in London's crowded streets hunched under umbrellas in the drizzling rain, or gloomily contemplated the weather from indoors, wishing they did not have to go out.

Most people were still wearing winter cloths. That morning, Komal was wearing a full-skirted apricot wool dress, which gave a little warmth to her enticing hair and brown eyes, and gave a glow to her fair skin.

When she joined her father at the breakfast table, he eyed her with fond pride.

"You look very pretty----new dress? It suits you."

Komal smiled at him.

She wanted to tell him now. But she loved her father too much to tell him frankly how she felt. He wouldn't understand; he would be baffled and hurt.

"Going somewhere special?" He asked her as she poured herself coffee, and she wished he wouldn't have given her that hopeful look. Ever since she finished school, he had been waiting for her to get married, and questioning her eagerly about Sikander.

"I'm having lunch with Mawara." She told him.

"Mawara." He made a bad mouth. She knew her father didn't like Mawara due to her 'free, out-going and out-spoken' nature.

"Where are you eating?" Arif Khan asked, sipping his morning tea delicately.

"West brooks." Said Komal. She was spreading marmalade on her toast.

Her father gave a yelp, his eyes riveted on his newspaper.

"You know I never give up when I really want something." He said complacently, proud of his own obstinacy.

He had a look in his eyes that she recognized, a dreamy yet determined look.

"Sikander is special, Komal. You're young, you wouldn't know what he really is."

"Yes, I know very well what he really is." She almost said to herself. "Sikander is just the type I don't like."

"Handsome fellow, isn't he?"

She shrugged, "I suppose so. If you like the type."

"You don't?" Her father watched her narrowly. "Other women seem to like Sikander."

"I'm not other women, Dad." She said coldly.

She supposed he only wanted the best for her-------trouble was, his 'best' was Sikander Riza, a man she disliked intensely despite his apparent values being rammed down her throat.

She needed to relieve her heart before it was too late.

"I need to talk to Mum and Dad about Aariz as soon as possible." She thought as she silently ate her breakfast.

harlos: This war nd its gettin more interestin. Komal have been avoidin this, wonder hw she'll feel after what she heard... Hw will Aariz react to his mother?...

When is d nxt update coming pls

Nxt update coming up tmrw.

Deiok: This is getting intense. I hope Komal will be able to handle Mrs. Ali's rants. How will her father also react to this? I percieve more trouble ahead, most of it is going to be from komal's family.

Well, Expect d unexpected

"Now was the time." Aariz thought, letting out a long breath, as he made his way towards his mother's room.

He had decided to inform his mother about their decision. He was sure his father was not going to object if his mother agreed. He loved his motherly dearly, and he could never bear to upset her by telling her everything only in the end. Ofcourse, he wanted to make everyone happy and satisfied by his decision.

He stopped at the door of Mrs. Ali's room and knocked. As he heard her call, he inched the door open, peeped in and smiled before finally letting himself go in.

Smiling, Mrs. Ali slid her eyes away from the big book she was reading for the last one hour as her only son sat beside her on the sofa.

"Mother.....do you remember what you were talking about, last week?" He grinned, and took her hand in his own.

"About your marriage?" She smiled back at him, and took off her glasses.

"Did I ever tell you what a good memory you have?" He laughed softly, still keeping her hand in his.

"No." She also laughed softly. "You just told me."

"So?" She gazed lovingly at her son. She was proud of him. He had never betrayed her trust on him. She still remembered the moment when, after Aariz's birth, her doctor had announced that due to certain complications, she wouldn't be able to have more children. It was the day she had decided that she'd do her best to give all the love and comforts to this precious gift, which God had given her in the form of Aariz.

"Well..." He smiled again, a bit shy, a little hesitant to open his mouth.

"Do you finally like someone?" She raised her brows, fluffing the soft black hair away from his forehead with her left hand, her right hand still in his hand.

In answer, he lowered his head and nooded.

A long breath escaped out of her lips.

"Aariz, I hope you have liked someone very nice and you won't disappoint me in the most important matter of your life."

"Trust me Mother, I won't." He gave her a reassuring smile, squezzing her hand gently with his own.

"What's her name?" A meaningful smile was now playing on her lips.

"Komal." He breathed. "She's from London, a Pakistani."

"I see." She pressed his hand warmly. "How and when did you two meet?"

"Just a week ago, Mother." He smiled for the third time, and from his expression, Mrs. Ali could clearly see that he was very much happy and content.

"What about her family?" She said, lost in her deep thoughts.

"Well, they all live in London. Her father owns a big business conpany in England. She is the only child of her parents."

"Is she from our own sect?" She asked suddenly.

He frowned. "What difference does it make?"

Her hand slipped out of his.

"A lot of difference!" Said Mrs. Ali. As she spoke now, Aariz noted a definite change in her tone.

Anger began to surface inside her, slowly but very surely.

"Why?" He demanded, but his mother coldly drew herself away from him.

"I don't have to explain myself to you, Aariz, but if you really must know, I am not going to let you marry that girl. Now, we should better not waste our time and energy by talking about this useless topic, shall we?" She said with an irony in her voice.

He let out a long cold sigh, and then got to his feet, turning his back toward his mother.

"But we have decided our future." He said plainly. "We won't compromise our love at any cost."

"Mind you." She told him thickly. "We humans have no power to decide our fate. It's our Allah who does that!"

"Yes, but Allah has given us full authority to spend our life in a way we want." He answered patiently. "And using that right and authority, I'd make Komal my wife as soon as possible."

"How dare you?" His mother was tremblig with shock, hurt and rage. "You want to drown the name of our family?"

He turned back to look at her, his eyes glittering angrily. She stared back at him, her own eyes blazing defiance.

"I can't even think of that." He explained, not quite understanding what she really meant by that.

"Yes, that's what you're doing." She murmured thickly. "By bringing some girl from a totally different community from our family."

"Mother, they are muslims."He protested.

"Yes." She replied loudly. "But have you ever noted the differences which exist between muslims now?"

"It doesn't matter to me in any way." He told her with ice in his voice.

"But for me, it does matter alot." Mrs. Ali said, quite unaffected by his coldness.

"Nobody in our whole family history has ever married a girl from another sect. I'd not let that happen at any price." She announced her decision and stood up, throwing a final look at him.

"I'd revolt." He shouted. "I don't give a damn to these stupid family values."

"Shut up your mouth." She yelled back.

Aariz was stunned as he saw his mother reacting so intensely. He had never expected that his own dear mother would react this way. Her words hit him like blows.

"We love each other very much." He clenched his teeth, trying his best to keep his voice as low as possible.

"I don't care." She ignored that, carrying on in a flat, cool voice.

"I don't care whether you care or not, Mother!" He looked explosive.

"AARIZ!" This time his mother's voice was louder than ever. "Are you in your senses?" She glared at him with angry eyes.

"I'm not one of your female friends or colleagues. I'm you MOTHER!"

"I'm going to marry her." He annonced his decision without mercy.

His mother's teeth met and dark red anger surged up her face.

"Over my dead body!"

"Do that!' He yelled back, resenting the threat as she walked out without looking back, leaving Aariz in raging temper.

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

It was about 10 a.m the next morning when the phone rang and Mrs. Ali answered.

"Can I talk to Aariz, please?" She heard from the other side.

"May I know who you are?" Mrs. Ali asked back.

"I......I'm Komal, his friend."

"Friend?" She repeated, her voice rigid and her tone cold.

"What do you mean?" Komal was confused.

"What I really mean is something you know very well." Mrs. Ali said rigidly.

"Listen Aunt......

"You listen."Mrs. Ali cut in sharply. "Find some guy for yourself from your own community. Our sect is different, and that is a 'big' difference."

From the other side, she just heard few breaths.

"But we've decided to get married......." There was a definite trembling in her voice as she spoke.

"Who are you to decide anything about my son?" Mrs. Ali added in a rough voice. "This is not London. I have not brought up my son like the way you 'westerners' do. We do care about our values and community a lot."

Her words came like a chain of bombs linked with each other.

There was a deep silence on the other side.

"Keep your hands off him. I know very well the girls of your type." Mrs. Ali's voice grew colder.

"Stop following my innocent, oh sorry, stupid son. Keep yourseld out of his way. Okay?"

But the line went dead. It has been disconnected from the other side.

Mrs. Ali sat upright in her stiff Victorian armchair, staring straight ahead, her mouth set.

"This time I am not going to let him talk his way out." She murmured to herself.

Disgraceful behavior, fighting his own mother for some other girl-----what did he think he was doing?

Spare the rod and spoil the child, his father always said and he was right.

I should have been stricter with Aariz when he was a child. I've let him twist me round his little finger, that's the trouble. He has always got away with too much, and look what it had led to! Getting the family into other sects, different community, leaving his own. All of my friends and relatives will be hearing about it. What would they think?"

She clenched her teeth and closed her fists with force. An angry flush crept up her face.

She took a long breath and then left her chair.

She had to take care of this problem sooner, before it gets out of control.

Next update coming in 10mins. Watch out

I Hate 9ja: keep d flag flying

I will . Thnx for being here.

Deiok: Nice one and thanks for the update.

If i may say, i think the story just got complicated, Komal engagement is not only the problem here, infact its a minor problem compare to the sectarian issue. If i were to be aariz i will simply follow my heart against sameer's advice that the love of the parents are greater than the love of his belove.
And mind you were there is love, no matter what they can tolerate each other.

And it seems like the story is just starting.

Here's a fan of stubborn Aariz . Yeah, dis is just d beginnig. Thnx.

[quote author=j-gatherer]That's a nice piece u've just delivered.
When I read d previous upd8 I thot it wasn't suspense filled bt going back nd reflecting on it...I've come to see that ur story is just unique in it's own way,dt keeps one's mind busy making up all possible 'case scenarios'.
Also,I'd like to know what inspired u to write ds story, 'cos occurrences like the one u're describing r very common in today's world.#smhs for komal nd Aariz,eeyah ![/quote]Well, I think wat really inspired me is the way such occurences are common these days, as u said. Thnx for being here

harlos: This one is really tough as i got confused at a point.

You are always on point with ur updates making it more interesting. Keep it up dear

Aariz is in love already and it is not going to be easy for him to just change his mind,and his friend shaheryaar i think made the best move by taking him to someone that is a product of such marriage. Hope he will listen sha

Thnx. I hope he listens too

Okay guys, that's it. Your comments are highly welcomed. Please tell me what you feel about the story so far. How do you feel abt the characters and so on.

I would also like to inform you that dere will be updates dis weekend, by God's grace.

Thnx and I luv u all

"If your dog is barking at the back door and your wife yelling at the front door, who do you let in first?" Shaheryaar asked Aariz with a very serious expression on his face.

"My wife ofcourse." Aariz said, shrugging his shoulders. "What about you?"

"The dog." Shaheryaar told hin thoughtfully. "Atleast he'll shut up after you let him in."

His gesture and expression made Aariz laugh. He had just arrived in Shaheryaar's apartment a few minutes ago, with a hope that his old friend could give him some considerable suggestion on his matter regarding Komal. But, from what looked Shaheryaar's mood, it won't be so easy.

"You've become so lazy." He slapped him playfully. "Don't you like to do any work?"

"I like work. It fascinates me. I can sit and look at it for hours." Shaheryaar said with a lazy smile. It was almost 12 p.m, and he was still lying on his bed.

"Try some exercise." Aariz suggested sincerely.

"Well.....I've already thought about that." Shaheryaar said. "But everytime I get the urge to exercise, I lie down till the feeling passes."

"Hardwork never hurts anybody." Aariz told him with artificial anger, pushing the heavy pillow away from Shaheryaar's sleepy face.

"But why take the chance?" Shaheryaar replied quickly and pulled the pillow back to his face.

He was really being funny today.

"Come on. Get a life." Aariz called him, shaking his shoulder.

"Why not a wife?" Shaheryaar asked in return, his eyes still closed.

"Why don't you get married, Shaheryaar?" Aariz asked, now really getting into the mood with his friend.

"You can't be serious." Shaheryaar asked in a tone like he didn't believe Aariz could suggest something like that. "I don't think any girl would be willing to marry a man like me."

"Why not." Aariz raised his brows. "You can give an 'ad' in a newspaper classified, saying 'Wife Wanted'. I'm sure you'd recieve hundred of letters in response."

"Yeah, letters from husbands instead. All saying the same thing, 'You can have mine'."

His statement made Aariz smile again.

You can do some searching. I can support you, if you're really serious." He gave him a sincere suggestion.

"I don't feel like doing anything for a while." Shaheryaar yawned lazily.

"But at least you can start thinking about that." Aariz gave him a serious look. "When there's a will, there is a way."

"I don't agree." Shaheryaar replied, closing his eyes sleepily. "Where there's a will, there are five hundred relatives."

Although, Aariz tried, but it was impossible to remain serious at his spontaneous remark.

"You apartment looks so dirty." Aariz said unpleasantly, looking around to see a pile of dirty socks with scattered cloths and dirt everywhere.

"Well, I did clean my house yesterday, sure wish you could have seen it." Shaheryaar said thoughtfully.

"Shall I award you a trophy for that?"

"No." Shaheryaar opened his right eye while keeping his left one closed. "I already have many."

"Shaheryaar....." Aariz got nearer, his voice almost turned to whisper. "There's a secret I want to tell you. It's just between you and me."

"Don't worry." Shaheryaar assured him "Your secrets are safe with me and all my friends."

Before he could finish his sentence, Aariz threw a heavy sofa cushion toward him, which made him rise from his bed finally.

"Okay, okay man. Give me some minutes." Shaheryaar said, putting his feet into his slippers and then turned toward the washroom.

Feeling bored, Aariz picked the newspaper from the table and began glancing at the headlines.

"What brings you here so early in the morning?" Shaheryaar asked as he entered the room after few minutes.

Aariz nearly killed him with eyes on his 'early in the morning'.

"Well..... I needed some advice."

"Yeah, you can take mine, I'm not using it." He said, rubbing his hair roughly with his towel.

"Do you ever get serious?" Aariz asked frustrated.

"Only when you're not." Shaheryaar added. "Okay man, I stop now. What's the problem?" His face became so serious that if someone saw him at the moment, he couldn't believe that this was the same man who was continously joking around just few seconds ago.

"You already know the problem." Aariz combed his long, slender fingers through his silky, shiny hair. "Sectarian differences in marriage."

"Oh." Shaheryaar sighed aloud, pouring hot tea into the cups from thermos.

"Well, my friend." Shaheryaar handed him a steaming cup and then sank into the easy chair in front of him. "That certainly is a big problem."

"What's the solution?" Aariz bit his lower lip. "I've been thinking but seems like my mind has stopped working." He exclaimed helplessly.

"You know you're getting old when you stop to think and forget to start again." Shaheryaar told him with a mild trace of amusement in his eyes and then said,

"Well, to be frank with you my dearest friend, my sincere and honest advice is......." Shaheryaar left his sentence unfinished to take a fine sip of his tea. "You should drop this idea. In our society setup, you can't break the hard rules."

"Is that a challenge?"

"No.....just a plain, simple reality." Shaheryaar said, sipping his tea slowly. "Even if your parents allow that to happen, things are going to become even more complicated after your marriage."

"Meaning?"

"Such disputed marriages produce confused and frustrated kids. They find themselves caught between two different school of thoughts." Shaheryaar said thoughtfully.

"Well, that's not so hard." Aariz said, lost in his deep thoughts. "Children can always choose the right way on their own wish. I'd not want my chidren to adopt my faith reluctantly. If they think their mother's sect is good for them, that's fine with me." He shrugged his shoulders.

"I see." Shaheryaar nodded thoughtfully. "Perhaps you need a second opinion on that?"

"What?" Aariz didn't quite understand what he meant.

"Finished with the tea?" Shaheryaar looked at him, asking for confirmation. On Aariz's nod, he motioned him to stand up.

"Follow me, we need to meet someone."

"Who?" Aariz rose.

"You'd know." Shaheryaar told him and preceded him out of his apartment.

"Stop this nonsense Shaheryaar." Aariz yelled, looking displeased at his action. "I came here only for your suggestion."

"Listen Aariz." Shaheryaar turned toward him in a gesture of seriousness. "You're my friend and before you take the most important decision of your life, it's my duty to inform you about its possible consequences."

"But where are we going?" Aariz asked, as he followed Shaheryaar.

"Just to the neighbouring block. That's a walking distance from here."

Five minutes later, Shaheryaar was ringing the doorbell of another apartment.

The door opened and a man in his late thirties with a moustache and tight face, emerged from inside, his features softening rapidly as he saw Shaheryaar.

"Oh, nice to see you, Shaheryaar." He smiled at Shaheryaar, taking him into his arms.

"Sameer, this is my best friend Aariz Ali."

"That makes him my friend too." He hugged him too, smiling affectionately.

"Please make yourself comfortable." Sameer told them as he led them toward his drawing room.

"You two sit here, I'd be back in a few minutes." He said softly and then left.

"What's all this supposed to mean?" Aariz was still confused at Shaheryaar's mysterious behaviour.

"Sameer is the son of my father's close friend." Shaheryaar said. "A product of an inter-sectarian 'Shiyah-Sunni' marriage." He gave Aariz a meaningful smile.

"Oh!" Only then Aariz understood the purpose behind visiting Sameer.

"It doesn't make any difference for me."

"May be not for you." Shaheryaar whispered as they heard the sound of approaching footsteps. "But for others, it does."

Sameer returned with a tray of cold drinks and snacks in his hands.

"So what brings you here at this time?" Sameer asked gently as he sat opposite them, as he placed the tray on a center table.

"Sameer, we wanted to talk about something important." Shaheryaar said as he held the glass of soft drink in his hand.

"What can I do for you?" Sameer asked in a friendly tone.

"As you told me that you're a product of an inter-sectarian marriage." Shaheryaar gazed deeply at Sameer, taking first sip of his drink. "A Shiyah-Sunni marriage right?"

"Yes." He gave a short answer.

"What do you think about the future of such marriages?" Shaheryaar asked gently as he set the cup down.

"Hopeless." Sameer said without any expression on his face. "Miserable."

Aariz frowned and chewed anxiously on his bottom lip.

"Why do say so?" Aariz asked, keeping his tone light.

"Personal experience." Sameer turned toward him, a rigid smile playing on his lips. " We're total of four siblings, two sisters and two brothers. Our Mom is Sunni while Father is Shiyah."

"Was it a love marriage?' Shaheryaar asked.

"Ofcourse." Sameer sighed coldly. "Our society still avoids arranging such troubles."

"My father revolted against his parents and married my mother who was his class fellow in his University." Sameer began to say.

"There were objections on both sides. My mother's parents cut off completetly from her as soon as she got married. On the other hand, my father's relatives did a social boycott of the newly wed couple. Gradually they became isolated. Just after one year when the intoxication of love began to fade away, my parents realized it was a big mistake for being so selfish, without caring about their parents' happiness." Sameer told then in detail.

"It's not just that." He lowered his head, his face showing painful expressions. "Since the beginning of our childhood, we came across the most weird situations. These social-religious conflicts always kept us confused. In Ramadan (fasting period), my mother used to do iftaar (breaking of fast) ten minutes before my father did accoriding to her sect and this made us think about how and with whom to break our fast. With our father or with our mother?"

As Sameer spoke, Aariz sat upright, tense and still watching his profile intently. Sameer looked like a tensed man. His voice was impatient, irritated and his face matched his tone.

"Oh that's really sad." Shaheryaar exclaimed, feeling really bad for this guy.

Sameer's voice was even lower now, he looked somewhat defeated and tired.

"We always kept wondering whose method of prayer was right. Either our father's, who used to leave his arms straight or our mother's, who always crossed them while praying?" He laughed sarcastically.

"In Muharram (first month of the islamic calendar), it was even more tough." Sameer added roughly, gulping his drink. "My mother used to wear red and pink cloths, used to do make-up as usual but my father wore black cloths, as those were the days of mourning for him."

"Frustration increased." He continued in the same rough and harsh tone. "My mother's perspective about islamic principles and history was totally different from my father's. She believed in 'Caliphs' after Prophet but my father accepted 'Imams' after Prophet."

"I often ask this question. What was our fault?" Sameer's voice became a little louder. "We're still confused and frustrated and both of my sisters are still waiting for appropriate proposals."

"Waiting for proposals?" Aariz couldn't get his point.

"This damn society won't let them get married because they are considered of 'mixed' religious orientation without any certain school of thought." Sameer's voice acquired an emotional tone. "Families come to our house, many times they have really liked my sisters for their guys, but as soon as they get to know that our parents don't belong to the same community, they apologize and leave and then never come back."

"So what do you suggest?" Shaheryaar asked, observing him keenly. "Should one really go for such marriage?"

Sameer gave them a wounded smile combined with a hard look like he couldn't believe if one could still ask such a question. He first looked at Shaheryaar and then at Aariz.

"I'm a victim of this terrible thing." He said harshly. "How can I suggest something so stupid and dangerous?"

On his meaningful sentence, Aariz averted his eyes away.

"It would be a big blunder. Even if your parents agree, problems would definitely arise as your children grow up. Also, when your chidren reach marriage age, things would become even worse, when nobody would be ready to marry his offspring to this mixed and impure generation of yours."

"So, you think one's love should be sacrified for the sake of his religion and parents, huh?" Aariz asked suddenly in a rough voice. His tone was so strange that Shaheryaar turned toward him to see if something was wrong with him.

Sameer looked at Aariz for a few seconds, smiled and said,

"Brother, as far as I know.......love itself is a name of scarifice. We've this famous saying of the Holy Prophet that 'if you make your parents angry, you make your Allah angry'. It's also a matter of love. There're standards and grades of love. We love our parents, friends, spouses, girlfriends. Now the point to be decided is that which love is the greatest and should be preferred over the other? Is your love for your parents greater than your love for you beloved or not? Do you love your parents the most? Parents.......who gave birth to you, the reason for you being in this world, who raised you, brought you up, facing difficulties and hardships for your comforts, feeling pain for your pleasure......... Or do you have more love for you girlfriend, who is beautiful, smart and sexy and you two have met just a few moments ago?"

Shaheryaar gave a sideway glance to Aariz, who sat there silent, looking visibly tensed.

"If ever time comes." Sameer was not finished yet. "You should always be prepared to give sacrifice of your lesser love for a greater one. That's the whole philosophy of love, in my personal opinion."

"I.....I suppose we should better leave now." Aariz stammered weakly. It was too much for him.

"Well, thank you very much, Sameer." Shaheryaar said, finally rising from the sofa.

"That was a good try from you." Aariz gave Shaheryaar a harsh look as they came out into fresh air.

"Listen friend........." Shaheryaar turned slowly to glare at his face. "As a friend, it's my duty to inform you about the possible consequences of the step you're about to take."

"I just wanted your advice and that's all."

"In that case." Shaheryaar said plainly. "I'd advise, stop yourself.

"Impossible!" Aariz's voice was firm, his attitude unshaken. "We've gone too far. We can't stop now."