𝐎𝐮𝐫 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟏𝟔

Faizan

The following week after our family dinner, everything seems messed up.

No one seems to be submitting projects on time, we’re getting the most rude and disrespectful clients and on top of that Farhan decided to go on an adventure on his motorbike and get hurt.

“I didn’t see that tree,” he says, “it was dark and I was in the moment.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose, “what were you doing near the woods?”

“Riding my motorbike.”

We’re in Farhan's office. He tried sneaking away without letting me know but luckily, I was outside when he exited the elevator.

I release a heavy breath, remove my hand from my face and look at him. He has the audacity to grin while his face is covered with bruises and cuts.

Farhan got into a lot of minor accidents with his motorbike when we were in college. I would always catch him sneaking in the middle of the night limping and wincing from pain.

No accident taught him a lesson to not repeat it again. It was as if he wanted to feel the pain.

However, I thought he learnt his lesson after we started our business because this never happened until today, he came in with his bruised face scaring most of the employees who saw him.

“Go home,” I say.

“No, thank you. I have work-” he winces when he moves his shoulder, “I am fine.”

“I am not in the mood to play your games or babysit you. Go home and rest.”

“You are not my father.”

“Farhan.”

“I’m fine, geez. What is wrong with you? Why are you more miserable than ever these days?”

I clench my jaw, “I am not miserable.”

“Yes, you are. You’ve been more strict on everyone for the past week-" his eyes sparkle with mischeive right after your family dinner.”

“Don’t change the subject-”

“Something happened at the dinner, huh? Did your baba said something? Mama? Zahid bhai? Hafsah bhabhi?”

“No one said anything.”

“Liar.”

“Farhan, go home and rest.”

“No, thank you. I will stay here.”

“Did you even go to the doctors?”

“Nope. I have a first aid kit at home,” I drag my hand across my face, “I am fine.” he says then suppresses a wince.

“If you don’t go home right now, I’m banning chai in this building.”

Farhan dramatically gasps, “you wouldn’t.”

“You and I both know, I would.”

“How dare you threaten me?”

“Stop with the dramatics and get out of this building.”

He stands up from his chair, “fine, geez.”

I make sure he gets out of the building and gets in his car safely. I already have a tracker on his car to know if he’s going home or anywhere else.

He needs supervision.

After I watch his car disappear around the street, I take out my phone and make sure he goes home.

I’m about to go back inside the building when a familiar car stops in front of me.

Baba steps out of the car and hands his keys to one of the valets after they greet each other.

“Assalamu Alaikum, baba.”

“Wale Kum Assalam.” he says with a smile.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yes, I just came to talk to you.”

“Oh. Well, let’s head inside.”

We both head inside the building and go to my office. I let baba take his seat first then I sit across from him on my chair.

“What did you wanted to talk about?”

“The topic you are avoiding from your brother.”

I freeze for a moment before I relax myself, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He chuckles, “you can’t hide from me, Faizan. I know jealousy when I see one.”

“I am not jealous,”

“So the fact that Arzo will be marrying her cousin doesn’t upset you?”

“No.” I force myself to sound calm when the mere mention of that topic makes my blood boil and I don’t understand why I’m feeling like this when for years I’ve tried to pull out my emotions and nothing worked.

“Faizan, it’s okay if you like her. Talk to her baba.”

“I don’t know if I like her.” I say, “You know, I can’t recognize what goes on around my head. These emotions are new to me and I don’t want to take a wrong step and hurt her in the process.”

I’ve considered myself dull since I was a child because unlike everyone else, I didn’t feel any emotions. I felt pain physically but I never felt pain mentally. Like the pain you feel when someone you love dies or your favorite toy breaks.

People call me an emotionless monster. What proof do I have that she won’t think the same when I am not able to console her?

“So, you’ll let her marry someone else? What if in the future you regret it? You had a chance, you could’ve talked to her baba and you would’ve been the one who married her.”

When I dont say anything, baba continues, “I never said anything before because I know it’s hard for you to recognize your own emotion. But I saw how worried you got when she walked away from her cousin. And what happened at dinner wasn’t an accident either. You know you want her. You’re scared to admit it.”

“I’m scared to ruin her life,” I confess. “Marriage isn’t a game.”

“You’re right. And no marriage is perfect. Even now, your mama and I have our ups and downs. Marriage opens the door to a new chapter of your life. A chapter you start with someone else, someone you’ve prayed for.” he says, “As long as you ask Allah for guidance for every step you take, you’d be successful. Never limit yourself when asking him for something. He listens as much as you talk to Him.”

“Take a moment and think everything through. If the idea of you marrying her doesn’t sit right with you then I will not say a word, neither will Zahid." Baba says, “don’t force yourself to believe something you don’t want to. Think it through with an open mind.”

I stare at baba for a while and process his words.

I am scared of admitting the fact I don’t like the idea of her marrying anyone else but when once the idea of her marrying me came into my mind, an unfamiliar kind of comforting feeling set into my body.

Arzo is the moon that shines in the dark night, the moon everyone stares at and calls beautiful. I’d be the dark cloud who hides her behind myself, cutting everyone from admiring her.

I release a sigh and pick up my phone. Baba smiles in my spherical vision as I dial Zahid’s number and place the phone by my ear.

He picks up after few rings, “Assalamu Alaikum.”

“Wale Kum Assalam, Zahid. I need something from you.”

“What?”

“Arzo’s baba’s number.” I exchange a glance with baba and his smile widens.

“Why?” I can feel him grinning through the phone, “Say it.”

I do. I admit it out loud.

“I want to marry her.”