1st in spiritual on 14th August, 2018
1st in Pakistani on 6th August 2018
3rd in Pakistani on 9th July 2018
2nd in spiritual on 13th September
Jannat, a barely eighteen, timid girl living with her parents. They are not her biological parents though...
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تیرے وعدے پر جئے ھم اے جان!جھوٹ جانا کہ مر نہ جاتے خوشی سے اگر اعتبار ہوتا۔
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Azlaan Ahmed was sitting on the loveseat, his back broad and shoulders prideful. Besides him sat his brother Ali.
Next to Jannat's mother, sat his Mother Saima.
"Jannat, I am so happy. I can't believe this. Can you imagine? You, as Azlaan bhai's wife? O my God. I want to dance at your wedding already! " ,Hoorain exclaimed and Dua laughed.
Jannat couldn't raise her head. She tried but she could not. She was so so shy, she could feel it in her bones. They were cousins, she had known them for ages. But this was different. It felt different. Because the air was heavy with numerous feelings. Euphoria, excitement, exuberance. Everyone was happy.
They didn't feel like her cousins now. They were here for her engagement to Azlaan. She could almost read everyone's mind. Why had she read so many romance books? Her thoughts made the blush on her cheeks look pale. She blushed again, her skin glowing.
"Azlaan, come here, mera beta. " Her Ammi patted the sofa next to her. He stood up and ran his hand over his white button down shirt that he had paired with black pants. His oxford shoes tapped the floor and his grey eyes twinkled as he sat next to his Khaala, merely two seats away from Jannat.
His name was enough to make her lips shiver and hands clammy. Her head dipped even low.
Ali's loud laugh echoed through out the living room. He sat right opposite to Jannat in his black polo shirt and dark jeans. His hair falling in his eyes as he winked, "Why are you so shy suddenly, Jannat?"
Everyone laughed whole heartedly. Even Azlaan but with a shy smile gracing his raspberry lips.
"Chalo! Badmaash. Meri bachi ko tang na karo. "
Her Khaala was on her side. She was such a sweet and graceful woman. Every word she uttered was sweetness and more sweetness.
The large wooden doors opened and Ibraheem stepped in, his all black Armani business suit clashing against the homey environment. One hand held his phone to his ear the other rubbing his brow.
" Lo, Ibraheem agaya. Idhr aao,beta. " He came towards them as his Ammi called him.
After saying Salam, he sat next to Azlaan. They did the weird hand shake and a side hug.
Jannat kept her head low, towards Hoorain. Hoorain and Dua planned how they'll dance and when to start playing dholki.
Azlaan's father, Ahmed Lashari stepped outside of the drawing room with her father.
His shoulders almost as broad as her father but there was less white in his hair and beard. His Kurta was white and his body still fit. He had laugh- lines around his mouth and didn't wear glasses like her father. He had always been the 'Cool Uncle' for when they were growing up. He used to play with them and teach them cricket. He was happy, humble person, who didn't take everything as seriously as men did in this powerful family.
