Hona Tha Pyaar ✔

21. Ghalat Fehmi

Fun fact:

You guys ever realize that,
Saira + Fahad = Sahad

Aaaahhhhh!!!! 😂😂😂😂

Enjoy the chapter 'cuz
"We'll have a blast!"

Fahad Abdullah

"Bhaiya photos dekhe kal ke?" Imran asked, barging into my room.

(Did you see last night's pictures yet, bhaiya?)

"Mm-mmm" I reply lazily, watching a crappy newscast on YouTube while chatting with Wajih, who lay before me doing the same. We were sprawled on my bed, my head leaning against the headrest and Wajih at the edge of my bed.

I swear, looking at him right now, it doesn't even feel like he is getting married in a less than 72 hours.

Banda mast hai apne phone me! Duniya se bekhabar.

He hasn't looked for any decorators for his room, nor booked a car for his nikah and the reception. I'm not sure if he even has his shervani ready yet.

Aur chale sahab shaadi karne!

"Dekho phir," He says passing his phone to me.

(Here then,)

"Photographers itni jaldi dediyea?" I inquire.

(Photographers?)

"Nahi, apne hai ye." Humming in response, I scoot over and let him plop down beside me, swiping right picture after picture.

(No, they're ours.)

"Thuu, ayse photos liyea mere tum kal? Ek mein mera mu khulla hai, ek me paani peeru mein, ek mein tissue se haldi pochru! Ayse lete photos?!" I glare at him, cringing hard at every single image of mine.

(Eww, these are the ones you took of me? My mouth's wide open in one, I'm drinking water in the next, then wiping off haldi on my face with a tissue! That's the way you take pictures?!)

"Dikha," Wajih steals the device from my hands, looking through.

(Show me,)

"Kiya bhaiya aysa bolre aap? Candid the poore wo!" Imran exclaims.

(Those are candid!)

"Bete, candid bhi ek kind of pose ich hai. Tum kuch bhi leleke nai bolsakte candid hai ye bolke. Aysich aate pics nahi to. Apne bhai ku nai dekha, kaisa letu mein photos so?"

(Candid is a pose in itself. You can't take anything and label it as candid, else this is what you get. Didn't you see the way you brother takes pictures?)

"Sab ka style alag rehta." He grumbles.

(Everyone's styles are not the same.)

"Wah! Isku bolte assal candid photo. Mashallah, kiya baat hai!" Wajih complements.

(Ah! This is what you call candid. Mashallah, so pretty!)

Knitting my brows, I take the phone away from his hands while asking, "Aysa kiya to bhi dekha--" I fall silent, as her face came into my sight.

(What is so--)

There she was, Saira, my Junglee billi, in her heavy yellow lehenga from last night. Her dark brown hair was perfectly styled, falling till down her waist in thick waves. She was laughing in the picture, her hand raised to her mouth, as she looked at someone away from the camera. There was haldi smeared against her creamy cheek, with the rose gajra adorning her fragile wrist. I could feel a smile spread across my face as I recalled her scent from when she was in my arms, laughing and squealing when we had our mini moment out on the porch, under the lights.