Taabindagi (Sequel Of Sharar)

Nineteen

His jet-black hair, silver lining from pre mature grays, slightly damp from the evening wash, fell in careless disarray over his forehead, a few strands curling at the ends. The golden glow of the lanterns softened the sharp angles of his face, casting subtle shadows over his sharp cheekbones and the firm set of his jaw.

With the sleeves of his kurta pushed up to his forearms, revealing sun-kissed skin, he looked nothing like someone who had spent most of his life in America. Instead, he blended seamlessly into the very essence of Baig Haveli-rooted, effortless, and entirely at home.

"Bada ho gaya hai ab Issam," Zinnirah said with pride.

(Issam has grown up now.)

Ayla smiled, sensing an opportunity. "Bade ho gaye hain tab toh inke liye bhi ab larki dekh leni chahiye, kyu?" she teased, making Issam visibly uncomfortable.

(Since he has grown up, we should start looking for a girl for him, right?)

Sharfa's ears perked up. Her fingers curled into the hem of her shirt, her stomach twisting.

"Main bhi bhabhi se yahi kehti hoon, iske liye ab larki dekh leni chahiye," Hamna chimed in.

(I tell Bhabhi the same thing. We should find a girl for him now.)

"Dadi, please," Issam mumbled, clearly embarrassed.

But Kaif instigated the matter. "Aap log sari planning khud na karo, kya pata usne pehle se koi pasand ki ho."

(Don't do all the planning by yourselves. What if he already likes someone?)

Sharfa's breath hitched. She glanced at Issam, waiting-hoping-for some kind of reaction.

"Batao, Issam, koi pasand hai tumhe?" Zinnirah pressed.

(Tell us, Issam, do you like someone?)

Sharfa's leg bounced restlessly, an unconscious response to the anxiety curling inside her. As she puts her hair strands behind her ear.

"Aisi koi baat nahi hai," Issam answered firmly, his discomfort evident.

(There's nothing like that.)

Sharfa exhaled, but she couldn't tell if it was relief or something else.

But Zinnirah had turned serious, her voice gentler but no less determined. "Phir tum apni pasand bata do mujhe. Tumhare liye main yahi ki koi larki pasand karungi. Tum phir yahi rehna."

(Then tell me your preference. I'll find a girl for you from here, and you will stay here then.)

After losing her husband, Zinnirah only had Basim and his children left. But Basim lived abroad, tied up in his work, and she never pressured him to return. Issam, however, came back every vacation of his own accord. She wanted him to stay forever.

Sharfa watched Issam's reaction closely, but his expression remained carefully neutral.

Her heart, however, was not.

Because if there was even the smallest chance of someone being Issam's choice, she wanted it to be her.

"Dadi, main toh abhi parhai kar raha hoon." Issam attempted to deflect, his voice casual as he leaned back slightly, but his words did little to shift the attention away from him.

(Dadi, I'm still studying.)

Then, almost instinctively, his gaze flickered toward Sharfa.

She was already looking at him.

There was something unguarded in her expression, something that made his grip on his own indifference falter for just a second. His features hardened almost immediately, his jaw setting in place, the easy nonchalance from earlier disappearing like a wisp of smoke.