MAQAAM - Chapter 6: Chapter 6

"I won't go!" Inara declared glaring at her husband, who was acting so unlike his title. Taking the job of her parent's messenger and advocate, he frowned with dissatisfaction.
"It is only a dinner." Rahil's reasons were as illogical as his face.
"With Iram?" She dropped her curve with an icy snort. "No, thank you!"
"She is your sister." As if she could change that fact.
"All the more reason for me to say no." She dumped the dried clothes on their bed. Sitting crossed legs, she started folding them making different piles for each of them.
It was a weekend, her weekend to be exact. After the inconsistent strike conditions with the transport drivers, this was the first free day she had for herself to complete all her pending tasks. It had been ten days that Rahil had been dropping her to and fro from the office, making each ride invoke feelings she should have locked in the back of her mind.
If not just that, this man was a wanderer by soul.
Ghummakar! To be exact.
Each day that Afreen had been at Irfan's place, her sister's house to be clear. He had taken her on drives around the city, his excuse was that it was Afreen's instructions.
Oh, Inara knew better.
What he needed was a companion to go and explore places that Mr. Lazy wouldn't have opted for if alone. Now that she sat behind him, he drove around and introduced her to the best food places, malls, markets, and local attractions, and if not them, he would trick her into spending time sitting on a park bench watching the sunset.
That sunset cost her an hour more at the office yesterday to complete the weekly working hour target.
"Your parents would be upset if you refused the invite, Inara. This way you will be able to see your parents too."
"I am not going and if you keep torturing me, I don't know about my parents but your parent will be upset." She shot him a look promising repercussion. "I will call Ammi and tell her that her son wants me out of his hair for the night."
"That sounds really believable." He taunted removing his glasses, he sighed. "Tell me a good enough reason why and I will stop pestering you."
"I have plenty." She threw his trousers for him to catch the article. "First, she is my twin and I don't want to see her. Next," she threw his white shirt "I am not going to Qadri's place." Another shirt "Third, this is my weekend and I have movies to complete." She looked around searching for more of his clothes from the pile "And last is..."
"Keep going." He scowled as another of his clothes landed on his laptop.
Inara gulped averting her eyes. "You are not coming with me. I will be bored there."
"Inara" His voice softened, passing his neatly folded clothes to her and holding her palm in his "Your parents will be there."
"May be there." Inara corrected him "Ammi said she is not sure."
"Same." Rahil shrugged switching to his laptop screen. "Mrs. Khan asked me to convince you, tell me what it will take you to go there?"
"Mrs. Khan?" She asked raising her brow.
He hummed distractedly as he replied to an email. "Your mother."
"Wait, Wait!" She climbed to face him, blocking his vision from the laptop. "You call my mother Mrs. Khan? Mrs. Khan?"
He looked flabbergasted, and uncomfortable as he nodded.
"I call your mother Ammi and you call mine Mrs. Khan?" She repeated to earn a frown from him.
"Ammi asked you to call her that, didn't she?"
"And my Ammi didn't ask you to call her anything but Mrs. Khan? What about Baba? Is he also Mr. Khan to you?" Well, it was getting all the more interesting.
"I have...always addressed them that?" He mused to himself more to her.
"That changes now." Procuring her phone from below the left-over clothes, she dialed her mother before her husband realized.
"Inara." Came her mother's voice.
"You disappointed me, Ammi." Her voice modification skills had gotten her into many school plays. "I had expected better from you, Abbu too. How could break my trust like this? Do you know how much it hurts me?"
"Inara, my child, what happened?"
"Inara?" Rahil mouthed with wide eyes; they were double the size making him look super confused, so much innocent, and so adorable. "What are you doing?"
Placing a finger on her lips, she gestured for him to shush. "Is Abbu with you? Why not place the phone on speaker? I will tell you both together how your little action made me feel so bad."
"You are scaring me, Baccha."
Inara bit back a grimace, feeling almost guilty. "Call Baba or should I take him on a conference?"
"Wait, I will." She heard her mother yelling her father's name with all her might that she had to remove the cell from her ears.
Rahil tapped her shoulder with a meaningful glare. "This is not funny."
"Shush!" Giving him a way to speak, she heard her father speaking on the phone.
"Hello, my Inara." He greeted her with a calmness that he often used when he sensed a storm he would be facing soon. "Why is your mother frantic on the phone?"
"Do you know what I call Rahil's mother?" She asked, dropping to build up the situation. It was her father, after all, the man would know immediately of any games she played.
"Did Afreen Aapa say something to you? Let me talk to her. I am sure she wouldn't mean anything."
"It is you two I am upset with." She pouted in the receiver.
"Then tell me, Baccha." She was near to cry and guilt crippled Inara's resolve.
"Why does Rahil address you two as Mrs. and Mr. Khan? Do you not consider him your son-in-law?"
"Give me your phone, Inara." He jumped to snatch it from her but she was faster. "You are blowing things out of proportion."
"Rahil, what is she talking about?" Her father's voice left her speaker.
"No, No, No. You are talking to me and not him." She ran to the other side of the bed, long forgotten were his laptop and tied-up clothes that he dropped and chased her. "When were you going to ask Rahil to call you Ammi and Baba?"
"Stop it, woman." He tried to catch her but she was quick to climb their bed and run in another direction. "Don't you dare drop my laptop?"
"You, little troublemaker." She heard her father comment. She could imagine him shaking his head while he bit back his amused smile. "What do you want?"
"Rahil to call you both the way I do." She panted, ready to bolt out of the door as her husband breathed like a raging bull. "And, I will not come to Iram's place. No one will tell me otherwise."
"Inara, will you ever grow up?" Her mother chided her simultaneously as she heard her father snicker.
"Ammi, I am putting the phone speaker and you will officially ask him to address you as Ammi? Got it?" She squealed as he lunged forward, still running away from his reach. "Rahil, I will complain to Baba that you are not being good to me."
"I heard that already." Faris was full-blown laughing. "You, complaint box."
"See, even your parents agree with me." Rahil boasted making her shoot him an unimpressed look.
"I am not a complaint box."
"Sure, you aren't." Both men spoke simultaneously.
"Baba! Rahil!" She whined but nonetheless switched her speaker on. "You are on speaker now. Ammi, Baba do it."
"You don't have to do it, Mrs. Khan." Rahil rubbed his temple with defeat, mouthing "You will pay for it, Inara."
"Did you hear that?" She gasped dramatically.
"Aren't we like your parents, Rahil?" Her mother's question made him drop his shoulder.
"Of course, yes, Mrs. Khan." He admitted.
"Then you will stop calling us this formally. Understand, son?" Her father's aristocratic tone could be heard so clearly.
"Y...yes. Yes, Mr. Kha..." He grimaced at the slip of his tongue as Faris cut him off using his full name.
"Rahil, son?"
"Yes, Baba." He gave up, shaking his head and surrendering. "It won't happen again."
"See, first is resolved." Her father declared, surely handing over the phone to her ammi to deal with her next demand.
"Inara, Rahil..." Jamila pulled her guardian angel tone, she could convince anyone using it.
But Inara refused to fall for her charms. "No, I will not go."
"Okay. Fine." Another soldier dropped her weapon making her punch in the air with victory. "But you will come home next week and we will talk about this in detail. Got it?"
"Are you inviting your married daughter alone, Mrs. Khan?" Oh, how she was enjoying this.
Though not for long, only 7 more days.
"No." She quipped immediately. "Rahil and you both. But are you free next week, Rahil?"
"He will manage." She answered on his behalf and the man had never looked so exhausted.
"I will be there, Ammi." He answered to her mother and glanced at her grinning face.
"Sorted." She chimed happily. "I will see you next week then. Allah Hafiz, Ammi. Baba. I love you the most."
"Allah Hafiz, you toofan." Her mother dropped the line, not that she would charm her in minutes once she saw him. (Hurricane.)
"See," She plopped back on the bed dropping the device as if a useless waste of space. "Now Ammi will never ask me to go to her place tomorrow."
Rolling his eyes, he took his seat back and typed continuously on his laptop, glaring at the damn device.
"Do not want to praise me?" She smiled cheekily, fluttering her eyes to watch her husband murdering keys under his fingers. Her smile dropped to a grimace feeling bad for his dabba. It wasn't so bad to suffer his wrath. "Are you punishing it?"
Ignored.
She bit her left cheek and tilted her head to stare at him. "Are you ignoring me?"
Ignored again.
Now she was pouting. "Will you not talk to me again?"
"You manipulated them." He pointed with that same gravel that knocked her flipping insides.
"That is how middle children survive." She reasoned innocently. "Aqmar Bhai and Iram would always get away playing their elder kid and younger kid card so I had to resort to different tricks. I don't do it that often. Only sometimes."
"Still, you emotionally blackmailed them." He refused to get into her pouts or convincing face, why did she not earn her mother's charms?
"I am not a bad daughter." She hugged herself, pulling her knees up and placing her chin. "I only cause trouble when absolutely necessary. Did you want me to go to that house which could have been my in-law's place? Do you not even care a little?"
"I didn't mean it that way." He clarified placing his laptop away. "I was asking only because... Ammi asked me to."
"See, you sound so better calling her Ammi." She pointed grinning, the forlorn face long lost. "I did a good thing."
"You forced them to ask me, Inara. That is not how things work."
"Don't you know my parents, Rahil? My father would never be intimidated, not even by the very prime minister of the country. Why do you think I have that power over him? He knew what I was doing. He has always seen right through my stunts and called me out too when needed." She tried clearing the air. She didn't mean to demean him. She never would. "If not today, Baba would have asked you to address him informally tomorrow. It was only a matter of time. And, he is so proud of you and your achievements that he fought anyone who argued against him marrying his daughter with you. You don't need me to tell you what my father thinks of you, Rahil. You know it better than all of us. Don't you?"
"I do." He averted his eyes feeling remorse for overthinking.
"Our marriage was chaos for them both too. Last minute exchange of grooms must have made it slip out of their mind about how you addressed them." She pulled her lips grimacing at that day. "Baba would have chided you in the crowd for calling him Mr. Khan if we had married the normal way."
"You think our marriage is abnormal?" He cocked a brow.
"Not abnormal, neither normal too." She answered thoughtfully. "No one finds their sister in the arms of her own fiancé a day before their nikah and agrees to marry her sister's fiancé in return. That is a little too dramatic, no?"
"For you?" His eyes glimmered in amusement. "No."
She rolled her eyes at his innuendo, giggling to herself before she dived headfirst into chores.
Afreen's absence made them spend more time together, she was living with her sister- Irfan's family to diffuse the situation. Reportedly, Irfan was being coerced into marrying a girl when he bombed the truth of his relationship.
He had been dating Tarini, his college sweetheart for the past 7 years but never disclosed it to anyone, she doubted Rahil not knowing but she didn't ask. The boys would hardly give out their secrets to anyone. Being an inter-caste couple, they weren't sure until the girl was given the ultimatum.
Then it was a passing of ultimatums that made Irfan drop the nuclear bomb creating chaos in his family. His mother, though emotional had refused to understand and he had to get Afreen to intervene, the only rational person (as per him) in the family much to his father's chagrin who somehow wasn't totally against the idea.
"When will Ammi come back?" Inara plopped back, glancing at the long lines of unending codes that were successful in giving her a headache.
"Not before the next weekend."
And, the weekend couldn't come much later. Afreen told her how Fahima, Irfan's mother was warming up to the idea of Tarini in their family. They will be meeting families this Sunday so she kept delaying her return.
Zipping the little overnight bag Inara was preparing, she looked up to find her annoying roommate stuck to his phone. He had been like that from the morning, now that it was afternoon and time for them to leave the house to make it in time to her parents' place.
"Rahil" She hissed his name, making him turn only an inch. "Get ready."
He raised a finger indicating a minute to her.
"Rahil." She called him again, this time stabbing her finger towards the washroom. "Now."
He shook his head in exasperation but nonetheless disconnected the call. Wordlessly he entered the washroom to change while she changed in the room. She parted her hair in two, rolling some strands and pinning them back. Next were the earrings, the pair her husband dearest had frowned but paid for. They were asymmetric chains with little bells at the end.
Indirectly, her first gift after marriage.
Shaking her head, she grinned as the bells created a melodious melody.
She had chosen a long kurta and cigarette pants that snug her and made her look taller. Covering a cotton shawl, she wrapped it on her shoulders leaving her head bare.
They were taking Irfan's car to travel; Rahil had offered to drive them crushing her dream of a train ride through the valleys. She had pouted but agreed.
"Chalien?" Like every time, he stood behind her glaring at his watch before picking the thing and tying it around his wrist. (Ready?)
"You hate watches." She giggled at the observation.
"Waste of machinery." He mumbled rolling his eyes, he took a once-over of them together and nodded in appreciation. "Why the bag? I told you we would drive back at night. I have work tomorrow."
"Just in case." Her shrug made him shoot a look that challenged her.
"Are you plotting something?" He asked not believing her.
"Negative. Of course, not." She shrugged and dived from his side. Opening the door of the room. "Hurry. I can't wait to meet Baba."
"Coming, Ms. Poster girl for punctuality."
Picking the bag, he followed her. While she locked the door, he checked his phone which she wanted to throw down their car window. Well, she always can.
He opened the bag door and deposited her bag; next, he helped her sit and rounded towards the driving car.
"What do you want to listen to?" She asked, contemplating between different radio stations.
"...We have received another one, it says..." The RJ paused to create the buzz.
"Mujhe kaha gaya that Mehnat karne ko,
Maine nukta palat kar Mohabbat karli."
"Mehnat aur Mohabbat, wow!" She was amazed, settling on the channel as they drove through the highway before entering the countryside.
"Vo kitab lautane ka bahana to lakhon me tha,
Log dhundhte rahe sabut, paigam to Aankhon me tha..."
"Hayee! This is also nice. No?" She asked glancing at him who drove with a straight face, that little frown made her smile drop. "Is something wrong?"
He snapped towards her as if pulled out of a trance. "No, nothing. I was only thinking."
"Do you want me to change this?" She asked if he might have not liked the poems, or it could be the fact that this boring techie didn't believe in this beautiful, beautiful poetic world.
"Yes, please."
She begrudgingly changed and leaned back as the soft music played through the car, filling the silence that wasn't suffocating, but not comforting either. Glancing at the man, she thought about how he could act as the coldest human when he wanted. He would stop talking, keep his face straight, and would glare at the smallest movements.
Like now, he felt her eyes and glared at her for distracting him. Was she distracting him?
Well, she should. In a marriage like theirs, one has to distract the other one to take a step forward.
For the longest time on the day of her Nikah, she had contemplated her decision to get married. It sounded so fictional to marry a man and not get inclined toward him. She was shameless to admit she was.
This man, her brooding husband was a gentleman behind his façade of indifference. The moment he had pulled that chair for her on their wedding day, she had seen the man for the first time in a light that wasn't meant to portray him as this sulking entrepreneur who was kicking his way into the business world.
He may lack some social skills, like that of smiling and laughing at her most amazing jokes, but he was a good man. As good as he can manage to take upon for a day.
"Stop staring at me like a Groot." See, his good quota comes to an end.
"Groot is cute." Inara chimed, unbothered by his aggravated frown.
"I didn't say you are cute." Rahil glanced at her and back to the road. "And stop looking, Inara. It is not right."
"Waah! Ab bandi apne shouhar ko dekhe bhi na." She was jesting, well not that she would back down. This compact space would give her all the right moments to push his buttons. "It wouldn't be right if I was staring at another man. I have a right on you, Rahil." (Wow! Now a wife can't even look at her husband.)
"Why don't you try a nap? We still have an hour and a half." He offered sweetly. And he wasn't sweet, only sometimes when he would bring food to her or adjust her quilt when she would wrestle it to his side.
"I am not sleepy. Why don't you try to talk to me?"
"I am driving." He reasoned.
"So?" She asked quizzically, waiting for another of his great logic.
"I can't lose focus. I don't want you to get hurt." See, back to those little sneak peeks of nice. She could do with them, for the time being of course.
"I won't die in an accident." She claimed jokingly. "It will take more to put me to death than these petty accidents."
"Don't." He snapped harshly, his entire demeanor flipping like a light switch. "Do not talk about dying again."
"S...sorry." She gulped; this man could scare the living daylights out of a human.
Inara heard him take a sharp intake of breath, his knuckles clutching and releasing some tension.
He closed his eyes restraining his anger and composing his face. "I am sorry for that tone. Just don't...never talk about death again."
She hummed in response and laid back in her seat, adjusting it to incline. She could put his suggestion to work and decided to take a nap instead.
"Are you suddenly sleepy?" He asked and she refused to acknowledge him. "Inara, answer me."
Changing the gear as his palm brushed against her knee making her shoot up. With wide eyes, she glared at him while he smirked in small victory.
"Still won't talk?" He asked, eyes on her as they kept it locked for some good seconds before he turned back to the road. "I said I am sorry."
"Someday I will mix diarrhea pills in your coffee and say sorry." She grumbled.
"Your heart is not that harsh. I know." He was freaking chuckling.
"But my brain is murderous. Be aware, Shouhar sahab. What if I make you eat baby potty instead of keema filling in your favorite?" She was back to facing him, shoes discarded and legs crossed getting comfortable.
"For that, we need a baby at home." He smirked. "If we start now, it would still take 9 to 10 months for your dream to come true."
"Shameless." She gasped hitting his shoulders while this man laughed.
Those fine lines around his eye crinkled like an artist's perfect strokes. The sound of his laughter reverberated in her heart. He was right, her heart wasn't harsh but it would go crazy because of this man. He was such a fine creation of almighty that she felt jealous of him. He created a man so alluring, and he was hers.
If not by emotions, legally Rahil Sohail was bound with Inara for his whole life.
There would be an entire range of women who would be jealous of her, while they would see him beside her, she would relive this exact moment of his laughter and smirk at the greater victory she had achieved.
"Stop laughing, you look like a fool." She lied through her teeth and he saw right through it. His laughter turned into soft chuckles and snorts that made him shake his head with disbelief.
"I don't." He claimed. He knew he didn't. Oh, the entire world knew he would never look like a fool.
"Khushfehmi hai aapki." She bit her grin back, glancing at him through her peripheral to see the smile on his lips. (You are overconfident.)
She gifted that smile to him; she was so proud.
"Khushfehmi hi sahi." (I am fine being that.)
They parked infront of her parents' place. A haveli built by her grandfather and later renovated by her father. He had tried to keep its beauty intact yet this place was no longer a maze where little Inara and Iram played hide and seek. It was changed to suit his political image and cater to the needs a politician had to maintain his vote banks.
"Andar chalein?" Rahil nudged her shoulder through his. Standing infront, she had stared at her home with longing of the past months. (Shall we?)
Whatever it was, it was still her childhood home.
She nodded wordlessly and unconsciously held his shirt sleeves as they walked forward. If he noticed, he didn't point for which she was glad.
She rang the bell, glancing at the potted plants used for decoration in the front staircase. Her mouth twisted with distaste as their withered flowers pouted facing her.
The door parted and the words left her before she could process them. "Mali kaka is fired."
"What?" Jamila, her mother was disoriented at her words for a brief second before her eyes glimmered with happiness and something else Inara couldn't decipher until the next second.
"Wo to baad me dekhenge, pehle tum idhar aao." She lunged for Inara's ear, twisting with a force that made her shriek in protest. "What were you saying on the phone? I disappointed you?! Is that how you talk to your mother?"
"Ammi...Ammi, let go." She begged, squirming in her hold as she looked at Rahil for help.
"No, Rahil beta. Don't buy into her innocent face. She is pure devil when she wants to be." Jamila warned him to which he nodded in agreement.
"I have come to know that." He chuckled.
"Are you laughing at me?" Inara shot him a glare promising to go through all the creative plans she had for him.
"I wouldn't dare, Inara." Oh, how innocent this man could act.
"You are threatening your husband right infront of your mother? Is this what I taught you?" She twisted more making her yelp in pain.
"Ammi! Please. I am sorry." Inara pulled her pout, wondering if it would work this time. She looked behind her mother and finally, finally, she found her savior. "Baba! Help me."
"He won't." Jamila glanced behind her shoulder to threaten her husband.
"See how Ammi is treating her daughter the first time she comes home after marriage." Yes, emotional blackmail always worked.
"You, little troublemaker." Her father laughed shaking his head. "Jamila, let them come inside first. You will have her all for yourself to beat."
Jamila glanced at her husband and back at her daughter with apprehension but smiled at Rahil. "I wouldn't punish him. The poor soul is already putting up for you."
"Ammi!" She whined feeling Rahil biting back his chuckle. She shouldn't have put him in a great mood.
"Come in, Come in." Jamila stepped to the side and ushered the couple inside.
Taking a lunge at her father, Inara threw herself in his arms. While she hugged his life, Farish's strong arms wrapped protectively around her small frame.
"I missed you." She whispered to her secret keeper.
"Me too, Mera baccha." He caressed her head, patting her and placing a quick kiss on her crown. "Is he treating you right?"
She nodded fervently. "Very much. Thoda Thanda-garam but you can see him for yourself now, don't you?"
"He is a good man." He agreed glancing at him, whispering to his daughter. "And, you, are you troubling him?"
"I am a delight to be with, Baba!" She goaded with a flip of her invisible hairs.
"Shaitan." He shook his head grinning.
Standing back with a matching grin, she parted and Rahil said his salam to her father. He nodded with formality to which Farish clicked his tongue in disagreement.
"That is not how you greet your father, son." He embraced Rahil in a man hug, patting his back. "How are you putting up with my daughter?"
"I would be better." He glanced at her jumping around, searching and greeting their househelps, and then peaking inside the hallway to spot her brother. "She is keeping me afloat."
"Good, Good." He stood watching her yell her brother's name standing below the staircase. "A little nutcase but she has a good heart."
Rahil chuckled at his description and almost agreed to him as Inara and Aqmar bantered near the stairs. He was glaring at her in retribution while she stood defiantly, her negotiating face on.
"If you save me, I promise to get Ammi off your back for marriage for another 2 weeks." She was bribing her brother, seeking protection now that her father had changed teams and deserted her to face his grumbling wife.
"She is not considering my marriage just yet, Inara." Aqmar scowled. "Stop exaggerating. She is angry because you tend to drive people to their limits."
"So, you won't save me?" She pulled her pout and fidgeted with her dupatta ends. "Please, Bhaijaan. Aren't I your favorite?"
"You aren't." He rolled his eyes.
Her face dropped, this time genuinely. Did he too favour Iram over her?
"Fine. Don't make that face. I was teasing you." He gave up. "I will get her off your back. Happy?"
"Very. You are my favorite brother." She nodded giddily, almost forgetting his words, and jumping back to her father who had settled in the living room.
"I am your only brother," Aqmar called out to her.
"Still." Inara sang grinning. She felt the eyes of Rahil and her father watching her in amusement as she danced her way around the house.
"Inara." Her mother's voice halted her. "I am still waiting for my greeting."
Smiling her best, she faced her mother and walked to her open arms. "I love you the most, Amma."
"So I have heard." Jamila patted her head. "Tame down that mischief now, can you?"
"That..." she grinned trailing. "I will see and let you know."
Jamila shook her head in amusement. Her middle child was a ray of sunshine, bubbling with little happiness and a lack of filter. She would act as the most mature kid in the house when needed, but at the same time, she was her little child ready to paint her walls red as soon as she turned her back.
"Shaitaan" Tapping her chin, she sighed and blew protective versus around her. She had been so worried for her girl but looks like she wouldn't be any longer. Rahil had been keeping her baby tickling. She was smiling rather brightly and had turned into her mischievous version, the tone higher of that.
His support was helping her bloom. She wouldn't need anything else.
"Inara, come sit with me for a while." Farish patted the seat near him.
"Why not!" She was walking towards them, smiling at the two men when her feet halted. She could feel her presence, she always has. Twin connection may be.
Feeling the cold icy chill run down her blood, she met Rahil's curious eyes which switched to a frown before she could blink, not that she would blink as the voice made her turn towards the entrance as her mother reached to greet her guests.
Her other daughter.
"Iram, Come in."