20. Grand Affairs

...

Two days after their wedding, Dahlia arrived at the Fayyads' ancestral home, nestled deep into her in-laws' village, with her husband and the rest of his family.

Layla had been teasing her for days that she was in for a surprise. Dahlia assumed Kaveh was secretly planning a honeymoon to Europe or something; only to find out honeymoon for the Fayyads translated to a family trip to the village.

They took two of their family cars, one for the parents and Azar, and the other for the siblings and the new bride, and started right after Fajr. Kaveh took turns at the steering wheel with the chauffeur to shoulder some of the exhaustion of the long path. The four year old Azar frequently shifted cars in between breaks, and refused to sit anywhere else but on Dahlia's lap for long periods of time.

By time their journey ended, Dahlia had dozed off. Kaveh usually stiffened at any sort of physical affection in public, but as Dahlia was gently shaken awake, she opened her eyes to find that he had let her rest her head on his shoulder.

She rubbed off her remaining sleep to find herself staring at the massive haveli with intricate architectural work. The Chowdhury Haveli, with its lake view, have been standing with all its glory since the British Raj. There were renovations needed to be done over the years to maintain it - and a massive rebuilding of the left wing after the damage done by '81's tornado - but the original skeleton of the house had remained.

The Chowdhurys', now the Fayyads', were descendants of the Zamindars whose bloodline could be traced back all way to the Mughal era.

Dahlia stole a glimpse at her husband, and the only word she could use to describe his expression was brooding. That's what he had been doing during the entire journey, nothing could improve his mood, and the frown on his face just worsened since they stepped out.

They were greeted with flower petals and sweets. Dahlia was starting to feel overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the crowd gawking at them, and with the enthusiasm they were received.

The interior of the haveli had been fully polished and modernized, and bore none of the history of its siding. The rooms were air-conditioned and the bathrooms were fully furnished.

Dahlia, accompanied by Yasmine Fayyad, Layla and Azar, was immediately whisked away to the grandmother's room, after saying a brief goodbye to Kaveh - who was lead off to a different direction by his father and uncles.

Dahlia was made to change into a red attire and some of the jewelry she had worn to the wedding. Time trickled as the crowd moved slowly and one by one, nearly the entire village wanted to see the new bride.

This continued for the entirety of the morning. Dahlia had seen very little of their country outside of the city she lived in. She grew up with the hustle and bustle of the metropolis, and was a city girl through and through. Witnessing the differences in the clothes, mannerisms and customs - and hearing the dialect that almost seemed like a foreign language - were both astonishing and overwhelming to her.

It was during lunch when they saw the men for the first time since their arrival. Separate tables had been laid out in the main hall as lunch became an affair of feeding all the people attending their house. The aroma coming off the food gave off a rustic vibe - the kind that was unique to things cooked over wooden stove.

The table Dahlia sat at was shared by the family only. Layla and Azar, who had veered off to go do some sightseeing, had returned inside slightly tanned. Dahlia tried to smile at her husband, which he returned briefly. Her father-in-law, Arshad Fayyad, on the other hand was in the best of spirits. He kept discussing that his retirement plan included moving back to the village. But by the looks of it, neither his wife nor his sole son were thrilled by the prospect.

"Have you considered handing over the business to your son, Arshad?" one of the elder asked.

All eyes turned to the man sitting at the head of the table. Dahlia had learned that he was the younger brother of Kaveh's grandfather, and the current leader of the family. He had weathered skin and aged limbs, but he still bore the typical physical qualities of most Fayyad men - tall and lean with piercing eyes.

"He's still too young for it, Chachaji," Arshad Fayyad replied.

"Your father was younger than the boy when Abba handed him the business, so were you when Bhai Jaan did it."

Dahlia felt Kaveh tense up besides her. He looked as impassive and unfazed as he always did, but she could see the muscles on his back tighten.

Arshad let out a chuckle. "Kids these days are not like us. They don't mature as fast as we did. But I'm teaching him the ropes, he'll get there."

"You do not spoon feed how to run an empire!" he cried, his voice raising at the outrage. "We do not teach our sons how to hunt using books and whiteboards before their first hunting. We simply hand them a rifle and send them out into the wild. Business is like that too. You need to throw him into the field if you want him to learn."

"If you had actually bothered with training, maybe cousin Akbar would still have two hands," Kaveh retorted before his father could, beckoning at the man with an amputated arm - result of a hunting accident.

Kaveh's sentence was uttered with the utmost politeness, as always, but the reaction it had was polar opposite. His words dissipated in his mouth as his father glowered at him from across the table. He pursed his lips and looked down at his food.

"Apologies, Chachaji," Arshad spoke again, letting out a forced laugh. "A couple years spent abroad, and the only skill he came back with is how to run his mouth."

However, the man only guffawed. "Then do not apologize for his only good quality, Arshad. Speaking against me takes guts," he said, shooting Kaveh a curious glance, whose jaw only tightened at the comment.

Then grandmother Fayyad started shouting that they were ruining lunch with 'faltu' discussion of the company, like they had ruined her life. After that, the conversation got veered into a different direction as they focused on their semi-cold food.

It was late evening once again when Katrina Khan found Ashiq Salehin waiting for her.

She stopped dead in her tracks at his sight. At first glance, she almost didn't recognize him. His hair had been cut short. He had gained a bit of weight. The clothes he was wearing were starting to look more like they belonged to his father's wardrobe than his.

It had been weeks - months - and Katrina believed she had seen the last of him. But here he was.

He straightened the moment he saw her. His eyes were set on her across the hustle and bustle of the busy street. Katrina looked to her right. Jaabir was besides her, they were on their way home from a grocery shopping spree at a local vendor's. Her arms were weighed down with bags filled with vegetables, so was her brother's.

"Jaabir, take this and go upstairs," she handed him the bags on her hands and beckoned towards their house.

However, her brother was already fuming at the sight of Ashiq.

"But, api-"

"Jaabir, leave." Her voice turned stern. "I can handle this."

Her brother did not have much of a choice as she practically shoved him away from the scene. He shot Ashiq a dirty look, but still reluctantly faced their house and obediently ran down the street as fast as he could.

Katrina turned her attention back to the man on the other side of the road. She knew if she had allowed her brother to stay, the situation would have quickly escalated to something unpleasant. Like Tamara, her twin siblings weren't the biggest fan of Ashiq either. This was the most sensible choice she could think of.

Taking a deep breath, Katrina walked towards him.

The street of her house was a stark opposite of the street of her office - the place she was used to meeting him mostly. Her street was chaotic, messy and full of noise - and Ashiq did not look like he belonged there, one bit.

"Hi," the word seemed to be forced out of his lips, as if he didn't know what else to say.

"What do you think you're doing here?" she exclaimed, the last bit of her patience with him slipping through her fingers. "How can you show up in front of my house, of all places? Do you understand how inappropriate it is?"

He let out a deep breath. "I needed to talk to you."

"About what?" she asked with exasperation. "Tell me, what is it you want to tell me? What have you been trying to tell me so desperately over the months that it led you to my house?"

There was absolute silence from his end.

"There's nothing you can say at this point that will make you feel better."

Ashiq flitted his eyes away from her face and looked over her shoulder. Katrina turned around. At a distance, she could see Jaabir making his way towards them again, but this time he was accompanied by Tauhid and Tamara - who was still in loungewear with a jacket and a headscarf haphazardly put around her.

Katrina turned to look straight again, exhaustion overtaking her. She lifted her gaze towards Ashiq once more.

Guilt. Anguish. Turmoil. That's all she saw.

For months, she had harbored anger and resentment towards him in her heart. She saw him as a deceitful man who simply couldn't fight hard enough for her. But as Katrina looked at him now, she realized she no longer held him accountable, because somehow, she had learned to let go of those feelings.

She felt a flicker of pity in her heart for her him. All she saw now was a man who wasn't strong enough to fight his extremely selfish parents, and was paying for it dearly.

"Go home, Ashiq. Please. You're sensible enough to understand how wrong this is." she requested, the indignation leaving her voice, weariness settling in. "Go to your wife and try to make things work with her. We have nothing else left to discuss."

Pain flashed across his face. "Do you actually mean that?"

"Yes," she said, with conviction.

"Is it because of him?" he added bitterly.

She swallowed at the mention of Salman. "No, it's not," she replied. "Don't try to contact me again. And honestly, I'm not saying it out of anger this time, I genuinely don't want to see you anymore."

He clenched his jaw and his eyes watered. But he maintained his silence.

"If you can't abide by my request yet again, I'll have no choice but to inform both our parents you have been contacting me for all these months," Katrina said, unable to meet his eyes. "I know if people find out, it's my family and character they'd be pointing fingers at. I can't let that happen."

Her words struck him like a slap across his face.

She did not wait to see his full reaction, neither did she wait for his response. But she knew her threat would be keeping him away, Ashiq cared about his reputation too much to allow the situation to reach that extreme. This is the last resort Katrina's heart was preventing her from approaching, but that was no longer the case.

The air surrounding them hinted of rain. Katrina simply turned on her feet and started walking towards Tamara, Jabir and Tauhid.