Hona Tha Pyaar ✔

12. Isku Bolte Assal Tour

Saira Malik

Popping the last bit of Taki in my mouth, I scroll through the emails on my laptop that lay on my thighs when my phone chimed with a new text, sitting beside me on the bed. I picked it up to see it was a text from Hitler.

Be there in 20 minutes.

That was all it said. I huffed, rolling my eyes at his khadoosness before putting the gadget away, I focus back on the list of emails displayed on the screen. My inner self wondering what today will be like. Because yesterday was shit. Purely utterly shit.

Bande ku tour karao bole the. Aur tour matlab kiya? Ek jagah jaate, photos lete, explore karte. Magar Hitler? Naaa. . .

All he did was drive, drive, and drive, telling me this building is this, that building is that. Sab kuch car me baithke. Faida hi nai hua, of taking all the pain and changing clothes for him 3 times. Because we never left the car. It felt like bahar Corona hai and car me andar apan safe hai. Uff Allah!

We've been to Hi-tech city yesterday, I think, 'cause he said it was the main hub of the city. And believe me when I say, I did not enjoy it.

I mean, mai New York se hu. New York, jo in sab ka baap hai. Why would I enjoy a place like Hi-tech?! Arey bhai, kuch heritage wali jagah leke chalo na! Tell me about this city. The actual Hyderabad. Yahan ki specialty, yahan ki history. Buildings to sari dunya me hai, tumhare pass kiya hai?

Hein?

'Ma.' My Bollywood self answered.

My phone pinged again, a new text coming in.

Be there in 10.

Urgh! Sukoon nai hai isku kahi bhi.

I groan, throwing the covers over me. I am so not in a mood to leave bed today. Let's just ask him to postpone the plans for today. Grabbing the phone, I begin typing.

'Aaj nai jainge na, please?'

My thumb hovered above the send icon ready to tap when I paused abruptly.

Wait. . .why am I begging? It's not even worth it! Who knows today he might take me to a mall and say this was the first mall ever that was built in Hyderabad. The odds of such thing happening are not narrow anyway. Keeping that in mind, I restructure the sentence.

'I'm not coming today.' Haan, ye sahi hai. I nod, and hit send.

The next thing I know, my phone begins to ring in my hand. Hitler calling flashes on the screen. Swiping right I answer the call.

"Um. . .Hello?"

"Jaldi neeche aao. Mood kharab mat karo mera. Otherwise kal ke jaisa tour karatu phir se." He hissed.

"Lekin--"

"Lekin wekin kuch nai. Mai aaru ghar, ready raho. Aur suno, comfortable shoes pehno."

"Okay, but listen--"

The line went dead.

I grit my teeth at his antics, clutching the phone in my hand. Why is so. . . Hitler?!

I groan, punching the pillow in front of me a couple of times before dragging my feet towards the washroom helplessly.

Tour azaab bangaya meri jaan pe!

Nonetheless, I was ready and wrapping a nude color hijab around my head. A sigh escaped my lips as I glanced at my outfit of today. Latte high-waisted pants, a white t-shirt tucked away under a knee-length blue floral print chiffon cardigan and comfortable shoes. I still didn't get why he made me change clothes yesterday. I tried not getting my hopes too high this time and send a quick prayer to the skies.