Our Story Ends Here/Heart Broken Loving Story

Mehar (A Love ❤👱Story That is Incomplete )

I entered the dining room where Amma and Abba were eating quietly. I held my breath and prayed

to god, asking him to turn the matter in my favour.

‘Come, beta. Why are you standing there?’ Abba asked.

I nodded and smiled as I sat opposite him.

‘When are your exams getting over?’ he asked.

‘Today is my last exam,’ I said, tossing an omelette on my plate. Amma kept an eye on me.

‘Great. Start packing your bags then. We’re going to Islamabad for a week,’ he announced.

I started trembling, and could feel my cheeks flushing.

‘Uh. Isn’t it all of a sudden? When are we leaving?’ I asked, trying not to choke.

‘Tomorrow morning,’ he replied.

Am I left with an option now? No! If Abba has decided something, then it has to be done. I

have no right to object to his decisions.

‘Are you happy with this news?’ Amma asked, breaking my reverie.

‘Amma, if you’re happy, then I’m happy,’ I tried to smile but failed. I was 100 per cent sure that

my disappointment was obvious.

‘No, beta. This is certainly not about our happiness but yours. We’ve planned this trip for you.

Your Khadijah Phupho and her kids, especially Hamza, are eager to see you. We’ll only go if you

want to.’

This is it. This is the best time to talk about what you want, Mehar. This is the best chance

you will ever get. Just say it!

‘Abba . . . if it is about my happiness, then . . . I am ready to go,’ I said. I couldn’t hurt my

parents.

‘Are you sure?’ Abba asked.

‘Yes,’ I replied firmly.

‘I guess we should start packing then,’ Amma said.

I sat there, dazed and confused. I had the chance to speak up, tell them what I wanted. I had the

opportunity to talk to them about the upcoming trip, but I had chosen to remain quiet. Why? For

this question, I had no answer. I could not see my parents getting hurt on my account.

Later that night, I messaged Sidra on WhatsApp.

She wanted to know if I had talked to Amma and Abba about the Swat trip. I told her the truth.

She instantly called after reading my messages.

‘Why didn’t you ask them?’ she asked in an agitated voice. I knew she was quite upset with me.

‘I couldn’t . . . I couldn’t ruin their plan,’ I said. ‘They seemed so excited after a long time.

How could I dampen their enthusiasm, Sidra?’

‘But what about you? You were longing for this trip, weren’t you?’

‘Yes, I wanted to go, but nothing is more important than our parents’ happiness. Right?’

‘Yeah,’ Sidra sighed. ‘Right.’

‘I am going to sleep now. I have not even finished packing.’

‘Okay. Have a nice time with Phupho’s family.’

‘Yeah, right,’ I sighed.

‘Especially Hamza,’ she giggled.

‘Oh god.’ I rolled my eyes. Sidra always teased me about Hamza. ‘I sure will,’ I said with a

smile.

As I was about to flip my pillow, my glance darted to the doorway. I was stunned to find Abba

standing there.

‘Abba?’ I shivered.

‘Why couldn’t you ask for the permission straight away?’ he asked with a heavy voice. Behind

him, Amma’s frail shadow lurked.

‘Abba . . . I . . . I just couldn’t. I didn’t want to hurt you,’ I managed to say, looking down.

‘I would have given you permission if you would have asked for it, meri jaan.’ Abba walked

towards me and then gently placed his hand on my shivering shoulder.

It took me a minute to absorb this.

‘This is your life after all. You’re allowed to enjoy it as much as you want,’ he said.

‘But Abba . . . I thought you would never want me to visit Swat Valley and other nearby areas

alone . . .’

‘Why not? There’s no danger. We have army checkpoints throughout the region. You’ll be safe.

Don’t be scared. You’re a general’s daughter after all. A brave daughter!’ Abba hugged me.

I smiled and then looked down, tears forming in my eyes. I had never thought he would allow

me to go so easily.

‘But you have to promise us one thing, Mehar,’ Amma said, stepping into the room.

I looked at her inquisitively.

‘As soon as you return from the trip, we’ll get you engaged to your Phupho’s elder son,

Hamza.’

And there came another major shock. Despite knowing that my cousin had been fond of me

since childhood, I couldn’t digest the news.

‘Hamza likes you and is keen on getting married to you,’ Amma declared.

‘And we have approved his proposal. I hope we have done the right thing,’ Abba concluded.

My eyes became watery the next instant. It was not that I didn’t want to get married to my

cousin. I liked Hamza. In fact, he was the most respectable and decent fellow in my entire cousin

clan. I just didn’t want to get married so soon.

‘That’s why we wanted to take you to Phupho’s house so you could meet Hamza, and we could

proceed with the engagement ceremony. However, this event can be postponed. We shall await

your return from the trip and then continue the rasam,’ Abba said with delight.

‘Are you happy with our decision?’ Amma asked.

‘Yes, Amma,’ I said with a heavy heart. ‘I have no qualms about this proposal. I’ll do as you

say.’

‘Mashallah. Great news! I’ll go and deliver it to Khadijah right now!’ Abba said cheerfully and

left the room.

Amma glanced back at me.

‘When does your group leave?’ she asked.

‘Tomorrow morning, 5 a.m.,’ I said.

‘Is the group reliable?’

‘Yes, Amma. Totally,’ I assured her.‘

Acha . . . Let me help you pack then. I don’t want you to forget warm clothes and other

important items.’ As Amma continued to speak, I fell into my own dark world.