It was the second half of the night, and the moonlight cast a soft glow over the world, as if it had become a part of the night's tranquility. But while the world rested, one mischievous soul was still wide awake.
Meher…
She slowly pushed open the door of a room. Darkness engulfed the space, except for a faint beam of light slipping through the window, landing right on Aeni's sleeping face.
"Aeni!"
Meher whispered, her voice barely audible.
No movement.
She stepped further inside.
"Aeni… wake up."
This time, her tone held a slight edge of eeriness. Aeni shifted slightly in her sleep but didn't wake up. Meher's devilish grin deepened. Now was the time for the real attack.
Deepening her voice, she spoke in a chilling tone, "Aeni, wake up… your time is up."
But just as she finished her words, something happened that she had never anticipated.
Without even opening her eyes, Aeni lazily moved her mehndi-covered hand— smack!
A solid hit landed directly on Meher's face.
For a moment, Meher's brain froze. She felt a strange warmth on her cheek… followed by a peculiar scent.
Mehndi…
Her hand flew to her face in shock. As realization dawned, her entire body shivered for a second.
One second.
Two seconds.
Three seconds… and then—
Without a word, without any reaction, she bolted out of the room at lightning speed, shutting the door behind her with a soft thud. Aeni, completely unaware of what had just transpired, turned to her side in sleep and dozed off once again.
Meanwhile, Meher rushed into her room, slammed the door shut, and gasped for breath.
"I went there to scare Aeni… but she ended up scaring me!"
She turned toward the mirror—and let out a horrified scream.
Half of her cheek was completely covered in mehndi.
"Oh my God! The mehndi event is tomorrow, and… and what is this?!"
Frantically, she wiped at her face, only for the stain to darken further.
"What kind of ghost mehndi was that?!"
Desperate, she grabbed a hairdryer, applied lotion, tried everything— but nothing worked. The mehndi had become a permanent part of her face.
She stared at the mirror, feeling utterly betrayed.
"My own face is conspiring against me."
Her mood was completely ruined. She had to get revenge on Aeni. But then…
She paused.
"Wait… she was sleeping. She just moved her hand in her sleep…"
Her jaw dropped.
"That means… this is all my fault! I went to scare her and ended up ruining my own face!"
Frustrated, on the verge of tears, she threw herself onto the bed and groaned into the pillow.
☆☆☆
Atish sat in his office, engrossed in a file. His office was sophisticated—everything placed with precision, reflecting his perfectionist nature. Even the slightest disturbance in his surroundings could set him off.
His deep brown eyes were sharp with focus, a permanent seriousness carved into them. His dark, gelled-back hair, light stubble, and chiseled features made him strikingly handsome.
He was not someone who smiled often, but when he did, it was enough to leave people speechless. Unfortunately, those rare moments were few and far between.
And then—
The door swung open without a knock.
"Ah, my grieving friend! Looks like you don't even have time to miss me anymore, so I thought I'd drop by myself."
Amaan waltzed in without a care, pulled out a chair, and sat down.
Atish closed the file with an audible snap and shot him an unimpressed look.
"I was hoping you'd finally learn some manners, but it seems you're still the same fool. This is my office, not a roadside café."
Amaan smirked.
"Oh wow, such a cold response! Who's ruining your mood besides me? Tell me, Atish, do you even allow happiness in your life anymore? I swear, there was a time when you used to at least smirk when you saw me. Now it feels like you'll be sentenced to death if you're caught smiling. But no worries, I'm here! You don't have to talk; I'll do all the talking for both of us!"
Atish exhaled sharply, somehow managing to tolerate his nonsense.
"Would you like to tell me what dragged you here?"
His patience was wearing thin.
"Oh, nothing much. I was just hungry, and your office was nearby, so I thought—free lunch!"
Atish raised an eyebrow.
"You think I'm sitting here to feed you?"
Amaan grinned.
"Of course! I know your anger is just on your face, not in your heart."
"I have no plans to feed you anything right now. I have a meeting in a few minutes. I'll see you at the mehndi function tonight."
Atish stood up, signaling the conversation was over.
Amaan sighed dramatically and got up too.
"Okay, fine. But at least buy me coffee?"
"Sure, the café in my office was made just for you."
With that, Atish walked out, leaving Amaan to follow him, laughing.
☆☆☆
The house was buzzing with excitement. Guests were slowly filling the space, and the preparations were in full swing.
Meher, her face hidden under her dupatta, hurried into the kitchen, where her mother and Mashal were busy.
"Ammi!"
Her desperate voice startled both women.
Mashal turned to her in confusion.
"Ammi!"
Tears brimmed in Meher's eyes.
"What happened, Meher?!"
Her mother's concern deepened.
"Ammi, I— I can't show my face to anyone anymore!"
Her dramatic words nearly gave Tyeba Begum a heart attack.
Mashal's eyes widened in horror.
"What did you just say?!"
Her mother stepped closer, her voice laced with panic.
Meher yanked off her dupatta and pointed to her cheek.
"Look, Ammi! How am I supposed to face the guests with mehndi all over my face?!"
A second of silence.
Then—
Tyeba Begum exhaled in relief while Mashal burst into uncontrollable laughter.
"You ungrateful child! Get out of here before I smack you myself!"
Her mother picked up a spoon and raised it threateningly.
Meher shrieked and ran for her life.
"I'll deal with her, Khala," Mashal chuckled, leaving the kitchen.
As soon as she stepped out, she collided into a firm chest.
"Oh—!"
Strong hands steadied her before she could stumble.
"Whoa, careful."
Zaryab's voice was amused.
Mashal stepped back hastily.
"Oh, sorry! I didn't see—"
Zaryab smirked.
"Even if you had, you would've still bumped into me. On purpose, right?"
Mashal flushed.
"Why would I do that?!"
Zaryab's gaze held hers.
"Yeah… I was wondering the same. Why would you? But you know what? I don't mind. Any excuse to hold you."
He stepped closer.
Mashal's breath hitched. Just as he reached for her hand—
She bolted.
At the top of the stairs, she risked a glance back.
Zaryab was still watching her, grinning.
Her heart pounded as she disappeared inside her room.
Zaryab chuckled and shook his head.
☆☆☆
When Mashal entered the room, she saw Meher glaring at Aini, Aimel, and Momina with an annoyed expression. The three were sitting on the bed, laying out the outfits they planned to wear for the function that night, chatting at the same time. Everyone now knew how Aini's henna-stained hand had gotten ruined and why Meher's face was also a mess.
"Mashal, look! We've taken out all our dresses for tonight. Have you taken yours out?"
Aimel quickly grabbed her hand and made her sit on the bed.
"Yes, I have," Mashal replied, then turned to Aini. "Oh, Aini, your hand got ruined!"
Aini, who had been on the verge of tears, looked even more upset. After all, it was her only brother's wedding.
"This is all Meher's fault! She thought she could scare me? Good that it happened to you, even better, actually!" Aini snapped, taking out her frustration on Meher.
"Do one thing—cut your hand off. No hand, no regret!" Meher shot back sarcastically.
"Enough, you two! How long will you keep fighting? It's not even that bad. It'll be fine," Mashal intervened, first looking at Aini and then turning to Meher.
"You don't stress either. Just apply a heavier base; the henna stain won't show," she reassured.
Meher let out a deep sigh but remained silent.
"I really shouldn't have chosen a lehenga," Momina spoke up. "Look at me, Meher. I'll look terrible." She was hinting at her body shape.
"Oh, stop it. You're not even that fat. Don't listen to people's nonsense, or it'll drive you crazy," Meher replied.
"She's right," Aimel chimed in. "Don't stress. By the way, my cousin is extremely pretty and super cute! And as for weight, well… it'll only increase in the coming days!"
Everyone burst into laughter.
"Alright, alright! Enough now. Hurry up and get ready. Meher, fix your mood too! You and Aini still have to perform the group dance, remember? I'm going now. You all get ready quickly."
Saying this, Mashal left the room.
Meher knew that no amount of makeup would completely hide the henna stain. But after thinking for a moment, she smirked, grabbed her lehenga, and walked into the bathroom.
☆☆☆
Zayan Khan, Raza Khan, and Am Nayab were three siblings. Tehmina and Tayeba Begum were sisters, first cousins, and also their wives. Tehmina was married to Zayan and had three children—the eldest was Atish, then Mashal, and the youngest, Ali. Zayan Khan had passed away recently. Atish had just completed his studies when this tragedy struck. He had deeply loved his father and had dreamed of going abroad for higher education. But after his father's sudden passing, he abandoned that dream and took over his responsibilities, managing the office and household alone. Ali was still a college student, and Atish had given him complete freedom from any burdens. For Atish, Ali's education was the top priority.
Meanwhile, Mashal had completed her Ph.D. and, in a short time, made a name for herself in the business world. Atish, on the other hand, was an extremely serious and reserved person. His entire staff operated under his control, knowing their limits well. He wasn't overly friendly with anyone. He despised chaos and noise. Though he rarely got angry, when he did, the person in front of him would feel like they were having a minor heart attack. Only Amaan remained unaffected by his temper. According to Amaan, "Atish has done a Ph.D. in anger and a master's in suppressing love."
Raza Khan was married to Tayeba Begum, and they also had three children—the eldest, Zaryab, followed by Meher, and then the youngest, Aimel. Zaryab's marriage had already been arranged with Mashal. Everyone assumed it was an arranged marriage, but that wasn't true—Mashal had been his childhood love.
Meher, two years older than Aimel, was a university student, close to finishing her studies. Aimel and Momina were in college.
Meher had always been mischievous. Since their houses were next to each other, she would often barge into Atish's home, where her future sister-in-law and best friend, Mashal, lived. The two would turn the house upside down, leaving poor Khala (aunt) to clean up after them with the help of the maid. Atish would get furious just seeing Meher but would restrain himself, as his mother always said, "Guests should be treated with great care."
He would silently fume, wondering what kind of guest showed up uninvited every single day. He couldn't stand this "chatterbox" Meher, who talked so much that it gave him a headache. He had never seen her sit still or remain silent.
But he had no idea what fate had in store for him.
The youngest, Am Nayab, also had three children—the eldest, Ubaid, whose wedding celebrations were in full swing, followed by Aini and Momina. Aini had completed her studies. Today was the mehndi function, and it was bound to be spectacular.
Since Nayab Phuppo's house had a small lawn, she had decided to hold the mehndi and other small functions at Atish's villa—the most beautiful and prominent bungalow in the colony. The rest of the events were to take place in a banquet hall.
☆☆☆
"You all aren't ready yet? The guests have arrived! Get ready and come downstairs immediately. And Aini, take these flower bracelets to Nayab Apa. She ordered them for Ubaid's in-laws. The other set is for you all to wear," Tayeba said as she entered the room, holding baskets full of floral bracelets.
She placed one basket down for them and handed the other to Aini, who was already dressed.
"Yes, Mami, I'll take them," Aini replied, taking the basket and stepping out of the room. Tayeba had already left.
Humming a tune, Aini walked down the stairs but suddenly bumped into someone. The bracelets scattered all over the floor.
"Are you walking around with your eyes closed?!" she snapped.
"No, I'm walking around with my glasses on, unlike you, who's walking with her eyes shut," came the amused reply.
The guy knelt beside her to help pick up the fallen bracelets.
"You look blind anyway," Aini mocked.
"Oh? Then I'm blind only for you," Amaan chuckled.
"What do you think of yourself, huh?" she huffed.
"Your future hero," he said, leaning in teasingly.
"Shut up! Or I'll break your glasses!" she warned.
"What's the point of breaking them? You'll have to fix my heart next," he smirked.
Aini's cheeks turned red.
"Your heart will shatter with all your lame lines," she shot back.
"Alright then, let me think of a new dialogue. You just keep bumping into me."
Aini felt like throwing the basket at his head.
"Keep dreaming."
Amaan handed her the last bracelet. "And you keep pretending."
Snatching it from his hand, she stomped away, while Amaan just smiled.
☆☆☆
Ubaid's in-laws had arrived. Originally, Nayab Phuppo was supposed to go to the bride's house, but citing her home's small size, she had moved all the functions to her elder brother's place. The bride's mother—who was also her sister-in-law—was initially hesitant but eventually agreed.
The mehndi ceremony had begun. After some time, when everything was settled, the lights in the lawn suddenly went out. Everyone gasped in surprise.
A single spotlight turned on at the front of the stage. A girl stepped into the light, carefully holding up her lehenga. She had lowered her veil slightly, and all eyes were on her.
"Oh, my love…"
She lifted her hands gracefully for the dance. Atish, seated with the others, held his breath as he watched. Suddenly, the lights came back on, revealing Mashal on one side and Aini on the other. Unlike Meher, they had their dupattas neatly draped over their shoulders.
As the song began, so did their dance.
Atish, growing more restless, suddenly got up and stormed inside.
He barely stopped himself from storming over and smashing the DJ's entire sound system along with his head. His frustration was evident as he got up abruptly and marched inside.
A little while later, as the dance performance ended, two teams were formed—one representing the groom and the other, the bride. It was now a singing competition between them.
The bride's side started off, and her younger sister took the mic, launching into "Tan Tana Tan Tan Tan Tara!" The reaction was instant—a mix of horror and uncontrollable laughter swept through the hall.
"Oh God, someone shut her up before I slip into a coma!" Ali pleaded dramatically.
"I'll sing."
Amaan stood up confidently, grabbing the mic with a flourish.
Just then, Meher leaned toward Mashal and whispered, "I'll be back in a bit."
Mashal nodded without question, and as soon as Meher got up, someone slipped into the seat beside her.
Startled, she turned to see a familiar smirk.
"I came to tell you something," he said smoothly.
"What?" she asked, tilting her head.
"You look breathtaking tonight." He leaned in slightly. "MashAllah."
Her eyes widened slightly at his boldness, but before she could respond, he continued, "And that's it? Just a plain 'thank you'?"
"Then what should I say?" she asked, holding back a smile.
"Well, you could have said, 'You look even more handsome than me!' You don't even know how to compliment properly. How will you ever manage romance?" he teased.
Mashal tried to suppress her laughter as she watched him.
Meanwhile, Amaan had started singing, and the moment he did, chaos erupted.
"Tera hone laga hoon, khone laga hoon, ab main sone laga…"
The shrieks of protest were immediate.
"Oh my God, you talentless singer, stop murdering the song! Our ears are about to start bleeding!" someone from the bride's side shouted.
Amaan scowled. "We still have one singer left, someone who sings way better than your Tan Tana Tan sister!"
With that, he marched over to Zaryab and practically shoved the mic into his hands.
"What? Me?" Zaryab pointed at himself in disbelief.
"No, your soon-to-be brother-in-law will sing! Of course, you! Now get up and save our reputation!"
He shot him a pointed look, and after a brief hesitation, Zaryab took the mic. His eyes flickered toward Mashal, his lips curving into a small smile.
"This song is for the one who lives in my heart." His voice carried warmth as he stood up.
Mashal's cheeks turned a shade pinker, and Aeni nudged her teasingly.
As silence fell over the hall, all eyes locked onto him.
"Akele na jaana humein chhod kar tum...
Tumhare bina hum bhala kya jeeyenge…"
Zaryab's voice was deep and smooth, his eyes flickering between closing in emotion and opening to steal glances at her.
Mashal watched, completely mesmerized.
"One Waheed Murad existed in the '90s, and now, in 2020, we have your Waheed Murad," Aeni whispered, giggling.
Mashal couldn't even breathe. It was the first time she was truly seeing him—really seeing him—with her heart.
"Yeh socha hai humne, ke ab zindagi bhar,
Tumhari mohabbat ko sajda karenge…"
As the song ended, applause filled the hall.
Amaan clapped him on the back. "Damn! You were hiding your singing skills all this time?"
Zaryab just smiled, then turned to Mashal. Leaning in slightly, he murmured in a low voice,
"You are the one I've always thought about… for no reason at all."
Mashal's breath hitched. Without another word, she abruptly got up and walked away.
Zaryab's eyes followed her retreating figure until she disappeared into the crowd.
Meanwhile, in his room…
Atish removed his coat and tossed it onto the couch. Walking into the bathroom, he splashed cold water on his face. As he patted his face dry, he caught his reflection in the mirror.
And then… another reflection appeared.
His heart clenched. For a split second, he saw someone else in the mirror.
Shocked, he lifted a hand toward the glass—only for the image to vanish like smoke.
His pulse spiked. Without wasting another second, he grabbed his coat and stormed out of the room, his mind blank.
His steps were fast and restless, and then—bam! He collided hard with someone.
The person yelped, staggering back and almost falling.
"Ya Allah! You broke my bones, you cruel human!" The voice was full of agony.
Atish blinked, momentarily dazed by the impact, but as his mind snapped back, his expression darkened instantly.
Meher.
His jaw clenched, a dangerous fire flickering in his deep brown eyes. Before she could react, he grabbed her wrist and pinned her against the wall.
"Are you mad?" His voice was low, furious.
Meher's breath hitched at his intensity.
"It wasn't my fault! Please let go of my arm!" she stammered.
"Oh, really? Can't you watch where you're going? If your mind isn't in place, I will fix it for you. And I'll make sure you never forget it."
His grip tightened slightly before he shoved her arm away.
Meher swallowed hard, completely frozen.
"I swear, if I ever find you wandering anywhere near me again… it won't end well."
His fingers twitched toward her veil as if he intended to lift it, but at the last second, he exhaled sharply and stepped back.
Meher didn't wait. She turned and bolted, not daring to glance back.
Atish's gaze lingered on her retreating figure for a moment before he muttered under his breath,
"Crazy woman."
Shaking his head, he walked off.