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[Eid Special]
FAIZAN
[18 months later]
“Eid Mubarak, my son!” Farhan says after we step out of the mosque after offering our Eid prayer. He steps forward with his arms wide open, “come on. Hug your man.”
“I’m not your son,” I tell him.
“Shhh. hug first, debate later,”
“There is no debate,”
“Ya Allah! Just give me my hug. People are watching,”
I shake my head at his dramaticness and accept the hug, returning it as well.
“This is nice,” Farhan says after a few seconds.
“This is enough,” I say, pulling away.
“I got my yearly dose,”
“Do you hear the words that come out of your mouth?”
“I know I have a beautiful vocabulary.” He proudly says, “Yes, I will teach Maham,”
“No.”
“I will take no charge. Don’t worry,”
“I’m leaving,” I say and turn around to head to my car.
“Hey! I wasn’t done talking!” he calls out before he follows.
“We’re meeting for brunch later, I’ll listen to your nonsense then,” I say and unlock my car.
“Do you think I will give you my attention when my adorable niece and nephew are present? You think too highly of yourself, son,”
I sigh, “are you done?”
“I will never be done but I’ll let you go. I can’t handle a grumpy Faizan who misses his wife and daughter. That’s a nightmare,” he says, “the brunch is at two, right?”
“Yes,”
“Alright. Off you go now,” he says and walks away to his bike.
I get in my car, start the engine and start driving back home, eager to see my wife and daughter.
I stop by the flower shop to get flowers as usual before resuming my drive to the house.
I park my car in the garage and step out to head inside.
I find the living room empty as I step inside. So, I make my way to our bedroom where I find Maham seated on the bed, dressed in a beautiful pastel green kurti and gharara with light golden embroidery, her small hands decorated with golden bangles that she is inspecting with a determined gaze. Her hair is nicely clipped back with golden clips.
“Assalamu Alaikum, najm,” I greet her, quickly earning her attention.
“Baba!” she lifts her arms up, a gummy grin on her face as she stares up at me.
I put the flowers aside and pick her up, cradling her in my arms. I place a gentle kiss on her cheek, “you look so beautiful,” I tell her, earning a heartfelt giggle.
I smile, “where’s ammi?”
Maham points behind me and just then, I hear the bathroom door unlocking. I turn around and catch my beautiful wife walk out in a stunning green kurti trousers which matches the color of my thobe. The ends of her sleeves and kurti are embroidered with golden patterns. Her hair is down, her face beautiful as ever.
“Assalamu Alaikum,” she greets with a smile.
“Wale kum Assalam,” I kiss her cheek as she steps closer, “you look lovely, amar,”
Her smile widens, “thank you, meri jaan,” she says and places a soft kiss on my cheek.
My heart melts at the gesture and the nickname. She started using it randomly one day when I took care of Maham while she wasn’t feeling well.
Later, she asked me if I liked the nickname and I said yes before she could finish her sentence.
I love that she calls me that.
“Baba, bagels,” Maham says, holding up her arm to show her bangles.
“Close enough, najm,”
Arzo chuckles and covers Maham’s cheeks with kisses, earning a loud squeal from her which makes us smile wide.
I pick up the bouquet from the bed and hand it to Arzo “your flowers,”
Her face lits up, “thank you,”
“No problem, amar,”
“Let’s go downstairs. I’ll make breakfast you haven’t eaten,”
“Have you?”
“No, I was waiting for you,” She says and walks out of the room, inspecting the flowers before I can say anything.
I look at Maham, “what are we going to do about your mother?”
Maham stares at me for a moment then looks away, babbling about something that catches her eye.
I kiss her head then make my way downstairs to help Arzo.
ᯓᡣ𐭩
“Look who’s here!” mama says as soon as she opens the door, reaching for a giggling Maham.
Maham goes in mama’s arms without any complaint and mama showers her with kisses, “come in, come in,” mama says, between her kisses then heads inside.
We follow her into the living room where the rest of the family is seated.
“Eid Mubarak, everyone,” we greet and get it in return.
Arzo puts aside the dessert as we exchange hugs from everyone.
“Eid Mubarak, Faizan Chacha!” Zayn says, full of joy and excitement.
“Khair Mubarak, Zayn,” I say, pulling him in a gentle hug, ruffling his hair, “you look nice. Better than your baba.”
“Hey! I heard that.” Zahid complains
“I know,” I say, Zayn laughs.
“My turn!” Farhan says, stepping forward with his arms wide.
“I already hugged you.”
“Wouldn’t hurt to be hug again-”
“No.”
He drops his arm, “mean,” he says then goes to mama and baba who are playing with Maham.
“Eid Mubarak, Faizan,” Hafsah says as Arzo goes to hug Zayn.
“Eid Mubarak, Hafsah,”
She smiles then we turn our attention to Arzo who’s attacking Zayn with kisses.
“You’re growing up so fast,” she says, fighting her grip around him, earning a giggle from him. She laughs then lets him go. Arzo fixes her hijab and Zayn runs to Farhan.
After a moment, Arzo and Hafsah help mama set the table while baba, Zahid and I sit on the couch and catch up. Farhan takes the responsibility of the kids by being a kid himself but it keeps the kids entertained so no one’s complaining.
“Lunch is ready,” Hafsah announces.
We all get up and head to the dining table.
“It’s alright. I can feed her,” Farhan says when Arzo goes to take Maham back.
“Are you sure? You have to eat as well,”
“I can handle it. Don’t worry, bhabhi,” he says then looks at Maham, “I can do it, right Maham?”
Maham nods, leaning closer to Farhan.
“See?”
“Alright. But you can give her to me if she troubles you.”
“Believe me, bhabhi. She is Faizan’s daughter but she can never trouble me,”
“When have I ever troubled you?” I ask.
“Not the point.” he says then goes to his seat.
After Arzo takes her seat beside me, we start eating.
Surprisingly, Farhan handles Maham perfectly which relaxes Arzo. He eats as well and Maham stays calm with him while he joins the conversation every now and then.
“Farhan seems to be practicing for future times,” Zahid comments.
“Oh, I cannot wait for Farhan to bring home a bride,” mama says.
“So, when are we getting the invite?” Baba asks.
Farhan smiles as he feeds Maham another bite, “soon, InShaAllah,”
ᯓᡣ𐭩
“We’ll clean up,” baba says, stopping mama as she goes to pick up the dishes.
“You ladies go and sit in the living room and chat,” Zahid adds.
“I’m going with the ladies,” Farhan says, standing up with Maham in his arms, “because I have the kids. Come on, buddy,” he takes Zayn’s hand and heads to the living room.
Baba, Zahid and I clean the table then join our wives in the living room.
Baba steps away for a moment, then returns with a warm smile, handing each of us and the kids our Eidi. We accept it gratefully, exchanging smiles and saying thanks.
Then we hand out our eidi to the kids, watching their eyes fill with wonder and excitement as they hold the envelopes in their hands.
Maham stares at the envelope for a long moment.
“Such a determined look,” Farhan says, quietly.
Maham looks at Farhan then turns towards her mother, “ammi,” she says, getting up on her feet and padding her way towards Arzo.
“Yes?” Arzo asks, leaning closer to her.
Maham shows her her envelopes.
“That’s your eidi. Dada, dadi, Zahid chacha, Hafsah Khala and Farhan Chacha gave these.” she explains, “Look, Zayn has them too,”
Maham looks at Zayn and he shows his envelopes with a grin. Maham then turns back to Arzo, handing her the envelopes before climbing onto her lap.
“Alright, someone’s sleeping,” Arzo says, cradling her properly in her arms.
“You should take her in the bedroom down the hall,” mama suggests.
“Yeah,” Arzo kisses Maham’s head, “let’s go,”
“I’ll come with you,” I say, putting Maham’s envelopes in Arzo’s bag.
We make our way to the guest bedroom. By the time we enter the bedroom, Maham is sound asleep.
Arzo gently places her on the bed and I put pillows around her so she doesn’t roll off.
“She’s asleep,” Arzo whispers as we step back, “she is so adorable,”
“She is,” I say as we look at our daughter’s peaceful form. I wrap my arm around Arzo’s waist, gently pulling her closer.
Arzo releases a soft sigh, “Faizan?”
“Yes, amar?”
“Do you think we’re doing a good job with her?”
“So far so good,” I say, “she’s still young. There’s a lot to come,”
She hums, “good thing, we’re in this together,”
I kiss her head, earning a soft smile as I say, “always, amar,”
I wouldn’t have it any other way.
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