Tera Deedar Hua ??? ?

The kitchen was filled with the sound of clinking utensils and the aroma of freshly cooked food.

Mehram, stood by the counter, rolling dough into perfect circles.

Madiah, however, struggled to replicate the round chapatis, her frustration mounting.

Mehram glanced at her daughter, her tone firm yet affectionate. "Madiah, gol roti banani toh seekh lo. Aaj kal ke bachon ko bas jaldi kaam niptaane ki padi rehti hai."

("Madiah, at least learn how to make round chapatis. Kids these days are only interested in rushing through their work.")

Madiah sighed dramatically, pressing the dough half-heartedly. "Ammi, gol roti banane se zindagi toh nahi sudhar jaayegi na?"

("Mom, making round chapatis isn't going to fix my life, is it?")

Mehram narrowed her eyes. "Baat mat banao. Kaam pe dhyan do."

("Don't make excuses. Focus on your work.")

Just then, the doorbell rang.

Madiah's eyes lit up like a lifeline had been thrown her way.

She quickly wiped her hands on her dupatta. "Ammi, main dekhti hoon! Aap tension na lein."

("Mom, I'll check! You don't worry.")

Without waiting for a response, she bolted out of the kitchen.

Mehram shook her head, muttering, "Bas mauka milte hi bhaag jaati hai."

("This girl, she runs away at the first chance she gets.")

The doorbell rang again, louder this time.

On her way to the door, Madiah huffed, "Aa rahi hoon! Darwaza tod ke andar aana hai kya?" She swung the door open and froze.

("I'm coming! Do you plan to break the door and come in?")

Standing there was the same man she had collided with at the mall.

Asad Ahmed Khan, tall, brooding, and impossibly composed, stood with an arched eyebrow.

His expression mirrored her shock.

"You?!" they exclaimed in unison.

Madiah was the first to recover.

She folded her arms across her chest, her voice laced with mock annoyance. "Aap yaha tak chale aaye? Maine kaha tha na, galti aapki thi, aur main apna contribution dekar aayi."

("You came all the way here? I told you, it was your fault, and I already made my contribution.")

Asad rolled his eyes, his tone dry. "Yeah, right. Sixty-forty."

Madiah nodded smugly. "Exactly."

Asad sighed. "Kya yeh Mehram Khan ka ghar hai?"

("Is this Mehram Khan's house?")

Madiah tilted her head, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Nahi, yeh meri Ammi ka ghar hai."

("No, this is my mother's house.")

Asad stared at her, clearly unimpressed. "Mehram Khan aapki Ammi hai?"

("Is Mehram Khan your mother?")

"Arre, aapko kaise pata?" she shot back, raising an eyebrow.

("How do you know?")

Before Asad could respond, Mehram's voice echoed from the kitchen. "Kaun hai, Madiah?"