Mahjabeen was lost in a peaceful slumber when a soft voice gently interrupted her dreams. "Tumhe khaaney mai sabse zyaada kya pasand hai?" it whispered. A sweet smile formed on her face as she began to reminisce about a special moment at a restaurant with her parents, where a waiter had asked, "Aap logon khaaney me kya pasand hai?"

Half-awake, Mahjabeen mumbled, "Sab kuch," not quite grasping why the waiter wasn't reciting the menu or handing her a list of dishes. After all, it was just a dream, and formalities need not apply here. She longed to indulge in every delightful dish before someone woke her from this slumber.

"Maslan batao toh Maho?" The faceless man transformed into her beloved husband, his eyes brimming with joy. She giggled, holding his hand, as enchanting music filled the air. Murtasim, donning a waiter's uniform, twirled her around with grace and tenderness.

"Baatonaaa..." he asked sweetly, his gaze capturing her heart in its embrace. Her voice laced with drowsiness, she replied dreamily, "Mattar korma, Mattar keema, Mattar Biryani, Mattar plough, Mattar tikka, Mattar kabab aur Matar Paneeerr..." Murtasim gasped, releasing her hand, and started to run away. Without hesitation, she chased after him, but he seemed frightened, his eyes filled with terror, as if she were a ghost.

"Murtasim..." she cried out desperately, "aap kaha jaarhey?" However, her voice faded away in the dream, and she witnessed him dancing with Haya, causing her to scream in horror.

"Nahiii..." she exclaimed. Suddenly, someone shook her awake, whispering urgently, "Mahjabeen utho!" As she opened her eyes, Mahjabeen found herself staring into his handsome face, and she couldn't help but envelop him in a tight embrace. She felt a surge of fear that he might vanish at any moment, but the scent of his cologne reassured her. In his arms, she discovered a sense of tranquility, as if she had found her true home.

Murtasim sensed her grip tightening around him as she snuggled closer. He felt the weight of her heavy breathing gradually returning to a peaceful rhythm, but she showed no signs of letting go. Instead, he listened to the gentle sound of her quiet snores. Murtasim couldn't help but smile, relishing the feeling of her soft body pressed against his own, realizing just how much he cherished these moments of intimate connection.

***

As soon as Mahjabeen woke up she decided to visit Maa Begum, yesterday's chaos still lingered in her mind. She was unsure about many things, and she needed some elderly advice. More than Haya the thing that bugged her was the lack of intimacy in their marriage. They had kissed a few times, but whenever she tried to go a step further Murtasim would back off. It lowered her confidence and subconsciously made her feel unwanted.

So she went into Maa Begum's room with a cup of tea, looking at her lovely daughter in law, she couldn't help but smile. A gentle smile graced her face as she soaked in the warmth of Maa Begum's presence, knowing that her mother-in-law held a wealth of experience and insight.

"Maa Begum, maaf kijiyega, magar aapse ek sawal puchu?" Mahjabeen spoke softly, her voice tinged with both apprehension and hope.

Maa Begum's gaze met Mahjabeen's, her eyes reflecting a mix of curiosity and caution. "Haan, pucho," she replied, her tone measured.

Hesitating for a moment, Mahjabeen gathered her courage and asked, "Aap Chacha Shahanwaz se mohabbat karti thi kya?" Her voice quivered slightly, uncertain of what the answer might reveal.

Maa Begum's eyes held a flicker of nostalgia. "Haan, beta, bohot," she replied, her voice filled with a touch of wistfulness.

Mahjabeen's heart skipped a beat, emboldening her to continue. "Woh bhi aapse mohabbat karte the kya?" she inquired, hoping for an affirmation that would validate her own longing.

Maa Begum's gaze turned distant, as if lost in a maze of memories. "Shayad..." she murmured, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

A surge of curiosity and hope filled Mahjabeen's heart. She pressed on, her voice filled with a delicate blend of vulnerability and yearning. "Aaplogon ke beech mein kabhi koi aayi kya?" she asked, her words carrying the weight of her desire to understand the depth of their relationship.

Maa Begum's expression turned guarded, her features reflecting a mix of hesitation and defensiveness. "Kaisi fuzool baatein kar rahi ho tum," she replied, her voice laced with a hint of dismissiveness.

Determined, Mahjabeen took a step forward, her eyes locked with Maa Begum's. "Dekhiye, main aapke bete se mohabbat karti hoon, magar mai jab bhi unke kareeb aaney ki koshish karti hu woh durr bhaagtey hai... Ya phir kabhi kabhar Haya baaji beech me aajati," she pleaded, her voice laced with vulnerability.

A flicker of surprise and realization crossed Maa Begum's face. She reached out, gently placing her hand on Mahjabeen's shoulder, a gesture of understanding and acceptance. "Haya... Tumhare beech mein aajati hai? Uski ye jurrat!" she exclaimed, her voice a mix of astonishment and concern.

Mahjabeen tried to calm her, her voice soft. "Maa, aap gussa toh na karein".

"Mahjabeen, tum chahti ho kya Murtasim tumse mohabbat kare ?" Maa Begum's voice held a mix of curiosity and concern.

"Ji, haan," Mahjabeen replied, her voice filled with both determination and vulnerability.

"Toh uske liye tum thoda sajjo acche kapde peheno, taaki woh jab ghar aaye aur apni itni haseen biwi ko dekhe, toh usse pyaar aaye tum par," Maa Begum suggested, her words carrying a glimmer of hope and a path forward.

After the tender moment of understanding between Maa Begum and Mahjabeen, Mahjabeen mustered the courage to speak her heart once again. Her voice was filled with a mix of anticipation and vulnerability as she looked into Maa Begum's eyes.

"Maa Begum, kya aap Haya baaji ki shaadi karva sakti hain? Shayad yeh sab behtar ho," Mahjabeen suggested, her voice carrying a glimmer of hope for a future that held stability and happiness for Haya.

Maa Begum's gaze softened, realizing the depth of Mahjabeen's concerns. After a moment of contemplation, she nodded, a quiet acceptance settling within her. "Haan, beta, tum sahi keh rahi ho. Haya ki shaadi karva dete hain," she agreed.

With Maa Begum's blessing, the wheels of a new chapter began to turn. Maa Begum set out on a mission to find a suitable match for Haya, someone who would cherish her.

***

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Khan Murtasim Khan found himself in the midst of a culinary battle, with his loyal servant Bakhtu guarding the entrance. The kitchen was in a state of chaos, and Murtasim struggled as he clumsily sliced an onion. Throughout his life, he had relied on servants to handle all the cooking, with his own culinary skills limited to making tea or Maggi. However, today he felt a strong urge to prepare something for his wife that would bring a smile to her face. As he glanced at the long list of dishes she loved, he couldn't help but feel overwhelmed. The sheer sight of peas was starting to frustrate him. Little did he know that his wife had listed every dish she could remember, oblivious to his limited cooking abilities.

"Sahib aap ek hi dish banadijiye na", Bakhtu suggested feeling sorry for his Khan. He couldn't help but mutter to himself, "Mohabbat me pehli baar kisiko ek kilo mattar cheelte dekha"

Murtasim shook his head, determined to make all the dishes before sunset. Bakhtu couldn't help but feel proud as he watched Murtasim browse through video after video, attempting to recreate each dish. Although they didn't turn out visually appealing, Murtasim Khan had put in his best effort. By the end, his coat was drenched in sweat, but a smile graced his face as if he had won an award.

That night, Murtasim sat at the dinner table, resembling a teenage boy eagerly awaiting his crush. When Mahjabeen saw the variety of dishes, her mind flashed back to the strange dream she had experienced. Unable to contain her astonishment, she gasped, "Murtasim aapko kaise pata chala mujhe mattar khaaney ka man tha?" Haya and Maa Begum remained oblivious to the fact that Murtasim had prepared the entire meal.

Haya thinking it was made by Mahjabeen couldn't help but shout at Raza, "Mere liye anda fry krdo, ye kya mattar ki bazaar lagayi hai, aur ye sab jalley hue kyun hai", she complained finding out the faults in the dishes. She was trying to prove a point, that Mahjabeen wasn't the ideal bahu, the wife that Murtasim deserved.

"Aapke Murtasim bhai ne badey pyaar se banaya hai, aap nahi khayi toh bhai ko bura lag jayega", Mahjabeen taunted sweetly as she emphasized on the word bhai. Murtasim couldn't hold back his laugh at the ugly face Haya made.

He served her the dishes, Maa Begum felt proud as she ate the dishes although they weren't perfect but they finished all of them. Murtasim was staring at Mahjabeen waiting for her approval but she kept on putting the food in her mouth and at last, she finally said those words, "Khan sahib aapke haath chumne ka man karrha, kya zaika hai khaaney me"

Murtasim extended his hand with a mischievous smile and Mahjabeen actually pressed a kiss on them. Maa Begum couldn't help but clear her throat as she made an announcement, "Haya ke liye mujhe bohot accha rishta mila hai, Naurez Khan ka, padha likha hai aur sabse badi baat green card holder hai"

Haya's eyes widened as she shook her head, " Maa Begum mujhe nahi karni shaadi"

"Lagta hai Haya sharma gayi hai, Murtasim aap hi apni behen ko samjhaye na behne saari umar apne bhai ke ghar me toh reh nahi sakhti...", she said innocently, implying that Haya couldn't remain in her brother's house for her entire life.

"Mahjabeen theek bolarahi hai, Haya", Murtasim agreed with his wife, and this broke Haya's heart. Her fragile spirit still clung onto the hope that yesterday's mishap could be reversed, but she saw how much importance he gave to his wife and she felt defeated.

"Aap logon ki jo marzi", Haya sighed finally as her eyes teared up, she felt lonely and maybe if this man was good enough she could live a peaceful life. Maybe someday she could forget Murtasim and fall in love with her husband.

***

News reached Malik Zubair that Maa Begum's daughter was getting married, and his heart skipped a beat. The name Maryam danced through his mind like a haunting melody. He couldn't help but assume that destiny was playing a cruel trick on him once again, pushing Maryam further away from his grasp.

Little did he know that his assumptions were far from reality. The bride was not Maryam, but Haya, and the groom was Naurez Khan. Fate, in its twisted sense of humor, had chosen to deliver this news as another blow to Malik Zubair's already shattered heart.

As the realization sank in, Malik Zubair's world crumbled around him. The wine glass slipped from his trembling hand, shattering into countless shards on the cold floor. The room, once dimly lit and filled with melancholy, seemed to darken further, mirroring the depth of his despair.

His mind became a battlefield of emotions, a tempestuous storm brewing within him. Confusion, disappointment, and a renewed wave of heartache washed over him in relentless succession. The weight of his unrequited love became even more burdensome, threatening to consume him whole.

In that moment, Malik Zubair felt the bitter taste of betrayal from fate itself. The wounds of his past were ripped open anew, and the flickering flame of hope that had burned within him was extinguished, replaced by an even deeper sense of loss.

He found himself at a crossroad, unsure of how to navigate this unexpected turn of events. The dreams he had woven around Maryam shattered like fragile glass, leaving behind sharp fragments that pierced his soul.

As Malik Zubair sank deeper into his despair, his heart cried out for answers that seemed forever out of reach. The world, once filled with poetic beauty, now appeared bleak and devoid of meaning. Love had become a cruel joke, and he, a tragic figure caught in the midst of its twisted game.

With a heavy heart, he retreated into the shadows of his solitude, his verses now echoing with a sense of desolation. The poetry that once provided solace now served as a painful reminder of the love he could never possess.

In the depths of his sorrow, Malik Zubair clung to the fragments of his shattered dreams, praying for a glimpse of light amidst the darkness. But as the night grew silent, he couldn't help but wonder if the universe was conspiring against him, snatching away every chance of happiness that dared to cross his path.

Malik Zubair, his heart shattered into countless pieces, mustered the courage to confront Maryam. Tears streamed down his face as he looked into her eyes, a mix of pain and longing evident in his gaze. His voice trembled with raw emotion as he poured out his feelings.

"Pee peekar jee raha hu mai, magar kya karu ab aansu bhi sukh gaye mere," he sobbed, his voice choked with anguish. Each word carried the weight of his despair, his desperation to be heard and understood.

Maryam, listened silently, her heart torn between conflicting emotions. She yearned to hold onto the love they once shared, but circumstances had forced her to make a painful choice.

"Devdas nahi ho tum, na mai paro," she replied, her voice filled with a mix of sorrow and determination.

Malik Zubair's eyes widened with disbelief, his voice quivering as he sought answers. "Tum mujhe apne dil se nikaal di ho?" he questioned, his heart unable to accept the reality that Maryam had pushed him away.

Maryam nodded, her tears now flowing freely down her cheeks. The pain in her eyes mirrored his own, she held her ground, knowing that their union was not meant to be.

"Please, mai maafi mangunga tumhare bhai se," Malik Zubair pleaded, his voice cracking with the weight of his remorse. He was willing to sacrifice everything, even his pride and dignity, for a chance to win Maryam's love back.

"Woh aapka aur bhai ka muamla hai," Maryam whispered softly, her voice filled with resignation.

The true intensity of Malik Zubair's despair was palpable. It consumed him, tearing at his soul and leaving him broken. The pain he felt was not just from losing Maryam, but from the realization that his own identity, his very existence as Malik, was a sin in her eyes.

As Maryam held her ground, Malik Zubair felt his world crumble around him. His love had become a burden, a curse that he could never escape. With a heavy heart, he turned and left the Khan haveli, his footsteps heavy with defeat.

Outside, in the darkness of the night, he couldn't contain his anguish any longer. He shouted Murtasim's name into the void, his voice filled with anguish and desperation. The words echoed through the stillness, carrying the weight of his pain.

Murtasim, hearing his name being called, stepped out into the moonlit courtyard, confusion etched on his face. And in a moment of surrender, Malik Zubair dropped to his knees, his head bowed in front of his worst enemy, all for the sake of his love.

Maryam, watching from a distance, tears streaming down her face, realized the true extent of Malik Zubair's devotion. Despite the animosity between their families, he was willing to humble himself, to submit to his enemy, all in the name of love.