In the quiet, the soft sound of a door knocking echoed through the white bungalow. Knock, knock.
"Please come in"
The moment the sound echoed, the one knocking on the door paused, then with a smile, gently opened the door.
"Peace unto you, Ammi Jan," he greeted, his voice filled with warmth and respect.
As he entered the room, he greeted with a polite "Salam." Sitting on the bed across from him was a woman in her 40s. Her hair was a deep shade of brown, and her eyes were a striking green.
It was evident from the expression on her face how much joy the young man's arrival had brought her.
"Peace unto you, Ammi ki Jan," the woman replied, her voice warm. She started to rise from the bed in welcome, but the young man gestured with his hand, signaling her to stay seated. Instead, he walked over and sat down on the chair placed beside the bed.
"I should have come much earlier!" The young man said, expressing a hint of regret, his voice filled with concern as he asked, "How have you been feeling?"
"My health is completely fine now, there's nothing to worry about," she replied with a reassuring smile. "I just felt a bit lightheaded, which caused me to slip off the stairs. I've been on bed rest for the past three days, but the recovery has been very quick. All praise is to God."
"I'm glad to hear that. May God grant you good health," he said with a smile.
"Have you gone home?" the woman asked, as if trying to think it over.
"I am at home!" he replied with a light chuckle.
Hearing his reply, it seemed as though the woman's breath momentarily stopped. She looked at him, then lowered her gaze, as if something weighed on her heart, but she chose not to speak.
He, too, was looking at her, trying to understand what she was thinking, wondering what was going on in her mind.
"What will you eat?" she asked, breaking the silence and looking at him.
"Tell me, what has been cooked at home?" he asked, his tone curious.
"We have broccoli made today, but if you want something else, just let me know," the woman said, her voice soft and her smile comforting. She continued to look at the man sitting in front of her, her gaze gentle and calm.
Beach:
"Hmm, it's almost ready. The smell is really good," Safira said as she flipped the skewers on the grill.
"I sent Arfa pictures of corn and barbecue, and she's sending crying emojis, saying she's really missing beach parties," Dada Jan told Safira, laughing and speaking in a playful tone.
"Well, who told her to go so far and get married? If she had married someone here in Karachi, she'd be enjoying on the beach with us right now. Now, who's going all the way to Rawalpindi to feed her kebabs?" Safira said to Dada Jan, teasing him playfully.
"Safira, focus on your hands and less on your mouth. The kebabs shouldn't burn. Besides, they're already way too expensive. We could've just brought some minced meat from home and made barbecue ourselves. The restaurant owners only made them this expensive because of the beach," Hannah replied while painting, not lifting her eyes from the canvas, continuing with her strokes.
"Uffo Hannah, by saying that you've completely filled in for Ammi! If she were here right now, she'd be saying the same thing," Safira said, and both she and Dada burst into laughter, clapping their hands and teasing each other.
Hannah shot them both an angry glance, then, without saying a word, turned back to her painting and continued with her strokes.
(White Bangalow) Outside the room:
The man's manager was standing outside the room, waiting patiently.
He placed one foot on the ground and slowly began to tap it repeatedly, as if the wait for time was making him a bit restless.
"Dear, sit here," someone said from behind, gesturing for him to sit down.
When he turned around, a woman stood before him, wearing a black scarf. There were lines on her face, the kind that often appear as women age. She handed him a glass of water with one hand.
The boy sat down on the chair and took the glass.
"Dear, first put the files aside, they might get damaged," the woman in the black scarf said, showing concern.
"Yes"
The boy hesitated for a moment, then placed the files neatly on the table and began drinking water from the glass.
He drank the entire glass of water in one go. From his state, it was clear that the boy was extremely nervous.
"I haven't seen you before. Have you just started a new job?" she asked.
"Yes, it's only been one week," the boy replied to the woman's question.
"You...?"
"I've started working as their manager," the boy replied, anticipating her next question and answering before she could ask.
"Isn't your age too young to be a manager?" the woman asked, as if interrogating him.
The boy was starting to feel uncomfortable with her question, but he knew he could do nothing but answer.
"Actually, I met Haris Bhai in Morocco. He saw that..." the boy began, continuing his explanation.
"I was amazed by his abilities and immediately offered him the manager's position. He thought about it for a while, but after my repeated insistence, he finally agreed," Haris interrupted the boy before he could answer.
The boy and the woman were both slightly taken aback by the sudden response.
"Haris, dear, I'll prepare food for you," the woman said, ending her line of questioning abruptly due to Haris's sudden arrival. She quickly rushed towards the kitchen.
Then Haris looked at the boy, his face expressionless, offering no reaction. The boy understood that he didn't need to explain anything to anyone.