Chapter 6
Author's POV:
The morning of the nikah dawned with a hushed reverence in the Malik household.
The house that only last night echoed with laughter and teasing now brimmed with nervous anticipation.
Women moved hurriedly from room to room, finalizing preparations.
The scent of rose petals and attar filled the air, mixing with the soft recitation of Quran that played in the background.
Aayat sat quietly in her room, draped in an elegant ivory outfit with delicate golden embroidery. Her hands, still stained with the dark mehndi designs, trembled slightly as her friends and sister fixed her dupatta.
"appi, you look like a princess," Hayaat whispered in awe.
Aayat gave a small smile, but her heart was pounding. She lowered her gaze, whispering to herself, "Ya Allah, sab asaan kar de..."
Aayat, dressed in her bridal attire, slowly rose from her chair. Her eyes wandered around the room, absorbing every corner with a heavy heart. The thought that she was about to leave this house-her home-brought tears to her eyes.
Hayaat, standing nearby, noticed the shimmer of tears in her elder sister's eyes. She immediately signaled to all the cousins and friends to leave the room. As they quietly stepped out, Hayaat walked up and gently placed her hand on Aayat's shoulder.
Aayat turned, and before she could say anything, Hayaat wrapped her arms tightly around her, breaking into tears.
"Hayaat..." Aayat's voice quivered as she tried to console her younger sister. "Konsa door jaa rahi hoon main? Ye samnay wale ghar toh jaa rahi hoon."
Hayaat shook her head, her sobs escaping in between words. "Ghar toh samne hai, Appi... lekin ab aap kisi ki biwi ban jaogy... Ab aap us ghar mein rahoge, is ghar mein nahi..."
Hearing her little sister's words, Aayat's own tears finally fell. She hugged Hayaat tighter, both sisters crying silently in each other's arms.
Wanting to lighten the mood, Aayat wiped her tears and forced a faint smile. "Meri kitaabein... tumne mere bag mein nahi dali na? Kamchor ho tum. Pata be hain Exams aane wale hain."
She went to pick her books from the table. As she lifted one of them, a small card slipped out and fluttered to the floor.
Hayaat quickly bent down, picked it up, and handed it to her. "Appi, yeh kiska card hai?"
Aayat glanced at it, and a smile touched her lips. "Yeh... mujhe ek uncle ne diya tha. Unhone kaha tha, agar kabhi zaroorat ho toh main unse contact kar sakti hoon."
"Lekin Appi, unhone aapko card kyun diya?" Hayaat asked, curiosity gleaming in her tear-streaked eyes.
Aayat sat down slowly, holding the card between her fingers. "Wo... chaar saal pehle, jab main stationery se notes lene gayi thi, aur wapas aa rahi thi... tab..."
Aayat Flashback
Aayat was walking down the busy street, reading her freshly bought notes as she went along. Suddenly, she heard a panicked voice shout, "Sonia!"
Startled, she lifted her head. Right in front of her, a woman stood frozen in the middle of the road as a speeding truck raced toward her. The woman's fear had locked her feet to the ground.
Without a second thought, Aayat threw her notes aside and rushed forward.
She grabbed the woman's arm and yanked her back with all her strength.
In the process, her own foot twisted, sending her tumbling onto the hard road.
Pain shot through her arm and the back of her head as she hit the ground.
Within moments, the man who had shouted came running. He rushed to the woman. "Sonia, tum theek ho na?"
The woman, Sonia, clutched his hand and quickly pointed to Aayat. "Sameer... ladki ko dekho, main bilkul theek hoon."
The man-Sameer-lifted Aayat carefully and guided her to the side of the road. Seeing the blood trickling from her arm and the bruise forming on her head, he said firmly, "Chalo, doctor ke paas le chalte hain."
Despite her protests, he helped her into his car and drove straight to the hospital.
Inside, while the doctor treated her minor injuries, Sameer looked at her with concern. "Beta, ghar walon ka number do... main unhe inform kar deta hoon."
Aayat quickly shook her head. "Uncle, zaroorat nahi hai. Main bilkul theek hoon. Bas thodi si chot hai... agar unhe pata chala toh bas wo sab pareshan ho jayenge."
Sameer studied her for a moment, then simply nodded. Later, as they walked out of the hospital, he handed her a new set of notes. "Yeh maine mangwaye hain. Tumhare purane waale to girne se kharab ho gaye the."
Her eyes widened. "Oh... thank you, Uncle."
She turned to leave, but his voice stopped her. "Ruko, beta."
Aayat paused, looking back politely. "Jee, Uncle?"
He smiled warmly. "Tumhara naam kya hai?"
"oh sorry mein toh khud ko introduce karwana hi bhool gaye. Mera naam Aayat malik hain." she replied softly.
"Bahut pyara naam hai," he said, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out a card and handed it to her. On it was written: Sameer Khan, along with a personal number.
Aayat looked at the card in confusion. He gently placed his hand on her head. "Tumne aaj hum par bohot bada ehsaan kiya hai. Zindagi mein agar kabhi bhi tumhe zaroorat ho, is number par call karna. Ye mera personal number hai."
She hesitated, trying to give it back. "Nahi, Uncle... iski koi zaroorat nahi."
Sameer softly pushed her hand back. "Rakh lo. Mujhe khushi milegi. Aur yaad rakhna... zindagi mein jab bhi tumhe zaroorat hogi, main tumhe zaroor milunga."
Flashback End
Back to Present
Aayat's voice trailed off as the memory dissolved, her fingers still brushing over the old card.
Hayaat, who had been listening silently, blinked rapidly, her tears momentarily forgotten. "Appi..." she whispered softly, "toh aap nay unki zindagi bachayi thi."
Aayat nodded with a faint smile. "Haan... aur us din mujhe samajh aaya tha, Allah insaan ko hamesha kisi na kisi zarayiye se bachata hai."
Hayaat leaned closer, curiosity written all over her face. "Aur uske baad... unse kabhi mulakaat hui?"
Aayat shook her head slowly. "Nahi. Uske baad kabhi zaroorat hi nahi padi. Aur shayad... padhay gy be nahi , kyu kay mere pass sab hain." She carefully placed the card back into her book.
~
Across the lane, in his own house, Rayyan sat surrounded by a few close relatives. He was dressed in a white sherwani, the perfect picture of composure - except his eyes carried the weight of a thousand unspoken emotions.
His father clapped his shoulder. "Rayyan beta, aaj tumhari zindagi ka naya safar shuru ho raha hai. Hamesha dua karta hoon tum dono ka rishta barkat wala ho."
Rayyan simply nodded, his voice calm, "Ameen, Abu."
But inside, his heart whispered a silent prayer of its own: "Ya Allah, bas wo hamesha aise hi muskurati rahay."
In the corner of the Malik mansion, Ramsha watched the bridal preparations with a tight jaw. Dressed in a maroon outfit, she looked beautiful, but her eyes carried the storm of envy.
Her mother nudged her, whispering, "Beta, control yourself. Log dekh rahe hain."
But Ramsha's gaze never left Aayat. "Woh meri jagah hain... meri," she thought bitterly. Each laugh, each smile of Aayat felt like salt on an open wound. And knowing Rayyan's heart was beating only for her... it made Ramsha's chest ache with fire.
The guests gathered in the decorated hall, white drapes flowing elegantly, chandeliers glowing warmly, and roses scattered everywhere. The imam sat with the nikah papers, his calm voice reciting the opening verses.
Rayyan sat tall, his hands clasped, gaze steady. Yet his heartbeat betrayed him - thundering inside his chest.
The imam looked towards him. "Rayyan Malik, kya aapko Aayat Malik se nikah qubool hai?"
For a moment, silence stretched. Everyone held their breath.
Rayyan's deep voice resonated firmly:
"Qubool hai."
Again, the imam repeated.
"Qubool hai."
And the third time, his voice carried a quiet determination, almost trembling with emotion:
"Qubool hai."
A murmur of prayers and smiles filled the hall.
---
Aayat's Turn
In her bridal chamber, Aayat sat nervously, her father Rashid by her side. Her hands were cold, her lips pressed together.
The imam's question echoed towards her:
"Aayat Malik bint Rashid Malik, kya aapko Rayyan Malik se nikah qubool hai?"
Her heart hammered in her chest. She could hear her mother's whispered encouragement, feel her father's warm protective hand. And in that moment, she thought of all the times Rayyan had silently been there - the calm presence, the quiet protector.
Her voice came out soft but clear.
"Qubool hai."
Repeated again.
"Qubool hai."
And a third time, stronger, almost as if sealing her destiny.
"Qubool hai."
The room erupted in tears and smiles. Her mother hugged her tightly, whispering prayers. Hayaat cried softly, while cousins giggled through their tears.
The announcement was made. "Nikah mubarak ho!" The hall filled with claps, du'as, and the sound of sweets being distributed.
Rayyan lowered his gaze, a subtle smile playing on his lips. His soul felt lighter, as if years of longing had finally been fulfilled. She is mine now. Forever.
On the other side, Aayat sat shy, her heart racing with emotions she couldn't yet name. She wasn't in love... not yet. But there was something comforting, something grounding about knowing it was Rayyan.
Later, when the rukhsati rituals were still being planned and most relatives were busy, Rayyan finally found a moment to approach her.
She sat quietly, her dupatta draped perfectly, her eyes lowered.
He bent slightly, his voice calm but firm, just for her to hear.
"Congratulations, Mrs. Rayyan Malik."
Her cheeks flushed. She glanced up briefly, whispering, "Don't call me that... it feels strange."
Rayyan's lips curved faintly. "Adat ho jaayegi."
She fumbled with her dupatta, trying to hide her nervousness. "Sabke samne aapko aise baatein karne ki zaroorat kya hain?"
"Sabke samne? Main toh sirf tumse baat kar raha hoon." His tone was steady, his gaze locked on her.
For the first time, Aayat felt her heart stutter in an unfamiliar way.
From a distance, Ramsha stood again - her nails digging into her palms, her eyes burning with silent tears.
---
End of Chapter
The nikah was done. Two destinies were tied.
One heart rejoiced.
Another burned.
And the story had only just begun.