Saira Malik
"SAIRA!"
"Utho!"
"Sairaaaa!"
"F☆ck off Maryam." I mumble, grabbing a pillow and covered my head with it, blocking out all the noise.
"Uth moti! Rishte wale aare tumko dekhne. Utho jaldi." She screeched and jerked the pillow.
"Tell them to come some other day." I groan, clutching it tighter so she couldn't snatch it.
"Uff...Allah!" She exclaimed. I heard footsteps walking away as I relaxed on the bed. Just as I was about to go into slumber again, I felt something hit my body.
"Kiya hai, Bhai? Sone do mujhe. PLEASE!" I moan.
"Bhai New York me hai." I heard mom's voice through the pillow. Slowly cracking an eye open, I peeked only to find a pissed-off look on her face.
"Mumma!" I whine, changing sides. I pulled the blanket over my head. "Ek ghanta bhi nai hua mujhe aankh band karke. I'm jetlagged!"
"There is no such thing called jetlag, Saira. Don't throw the American terms on my face."
At that, I felt like ripping my hair out of my scalp. Sometimes, no scratch that. Most of the time, desi parents can be just too much.
"I don't wanna argue mom. Just let me sleep!"
"Saira." She gritted. A loud groan filled the room, as I sat up huffing and ready to murder anyone that crossed my path.
Throwing the comfy blanket away, I show her my face, and how awake I am for her to leave me the hell alone. She glanced at me briefly. "15 minutes me tum bahar rehna." Saluting at her command, I wait till she was out of the room, before falling back on the bed. Just when I was about to shut my eyes an ear-piercing yell had me bounce up.
"SAIRA!"
"I'm up! I'm up!"
Swinging my feet on the ground, I pause. My eyes shutting on their own accord once again. I felt myself sway, before hitting the bed again.
'Wake up Sai meri jaan...you have a long life to live. Don't let it end by the hands of your mom!' I murmur, giving myself a pep talk. It took all the energy in me to peel my eyes open which felt like heavy weight lifting by my eyelids.
'Kiya azaab hai!' Groaning, I rub my eyes. Getting to my feet, I stretch before making my way towards the luggage placed at the corner of my so-called room. And start with the quest of finding the perfect attire of the day.
I tell you...life is soo peaceful in the west. Na clothes ka tension, na koi guests ka! And even if we have any, they inform about 5 hours before. Not like here, jo beghair bole aagaye. Bus...mast magan life rehti uder!
Aur yaha? *scoff*
Anything but that! Every two minutes you have someone knocking at the front door, and you have Allah-knows-which relative visiting. They say, New York never sleeps. Boy...they don't know what it's like here!
Tossing a heavy dress away, my eyes fell on a light blue cotton kurti wrapped in a white palazzo. 'Chalo...aaj tumhari turn.' I say and pull out. Walking to the door, I take a peek through the curtains scanning the mega hall for any guests, surprised to find it empty. I summon Tahera, our housekeeper Shaheen Bi's daughter, who stood before me within seconds.
"Ji bibi?"
"Tahera ise press kar dona, please?" I hand her the clothes, and she nodded.
"Bahar koi aake hai kiya?"
YOU ARE READING
Hona Tha Pyaar ✔
Humor"I was on a goddamn vacation in this God-forsaken place. I never meant to get engaged to you. I never meant any of this to happen. You. Me. Us. None of it!" That was Saira Malik's life in summary. Once a happy-go-lucky girl fantasized about two thin...
