“Parisa, yeh kya pehna hua hai tumne?” Dadi Jaan asked, glaring at Parisa with her big, scary eyes.

(Parisa, what are you wearing?)

“Dadi Jaan, mai toh roz aise hi kapde pehenti hoon,” Parisa was confused. She was wearing a simple white frock suit. What was wrong with her dress?

(Dadi Jaan, I wear such clothes everyday.)

“Pagal ladki, aaj tera shauhar aanth saal baad waapis aa raha hai. Thoda sa shringar hi karle.”  She continued, “Aanth saal baad tumhara shauhar waapis aa raha hai aur tum yun safaid libaas pehen kar dayan ke jaise ghoom rahi ho.”  The seventy-year-old grandma loved to create drama over nothing.

(Mad girl, today your husband is returning after eight years. Dress up a little.) (He is coming after eight years and you are roaming around like a witch in this white dress.)

#AadatSeMajboor

“Lekin Ammi Jaan toh kehti hai ke mai safaid rang mein bilkul hoor lagti hoon.” Parisa said with a pout on her face. Even though she knew Dadi was getting paranoid for no particular reason.

(But Ammi Jaan says I look exactly like a fairy in white colour.)

“Naam Parisa hone se tum pari jaisi nahi ban jaogi. Sajna sawarna bhi padta hai. Kaun kahega tumhara nikkah ho chuka hai. Pata hai pichle do saal mein tumhare liye paanch paanch rishte aa chuke hai.” She adjusted her glasses while saying so.

(Just because your name is Parisa [like a fairy] doesn't mean you will become like a fairy. Who will say you are married. Do you know, in the last two years, total five proposals have come for you.)

“Arrey wah! Meri itni demand hai!? ” Parisa grinned.

(Oh wow! I'm so much in demand!?)

“Nashukri ladki, kyun bhool jati ho tumhara ek shauhar bhi hai?”

(Ungrateful girl, why do you always forget that you have a husband too?)

“Dadi Jaan, ab yeh toh bachpan mein karayi shadi ke nuksanaat hai.” She shrugged and held the strap of her kit.

(Dadi Jaan, now this is the side effect of marriage in childhood.)

“Chup! Jao jaake koi accha sa joda pehen kar aao.” Dadi Jaan pointed towards Parisa's bedroom.

(Shut up! Go and wear some nice dress.)

“Dadi Jaan, maine university bhi jana hai,” She looked at her wristwatch, “Arrey! Mai toh already late hoon. Acha, Dadi Jaan, mai chalti hoon. Khuda Hafiz.” 

(Dadi Jaan, I have to go to university as well.) (Oh, I'm already late. Okay, Dadi Jaan, I'm going.)

And she ran out of the Haveli before Dadi could stop her and quickly sat inside the car assigned to drop and pick her from the university.

🕊️🕊️🕊️

The car halted outside the university campus where Parisa studied. Parisa quickly got out of the car and wore her ID card before entering the campus gate.

She was walking by the lane at the side of the football playground. Her eyes were roaming around looking for a certain someone she loved to argue with.

“Aaj professor sahab nazar nahi aa rahe.” She mumbled to herself.

(Today Professor Sahab are not visible.)

The very moment a football came flying towards her and hit her head. Parisa couldn't understand what just happened. She only realised the situation when she fell on the ground and a sharp pain spread through her head.

“Haye! Mai mar gayi!” She cried loudly while holding her head.

(Haye! I'm dead!)

The boys, who were playing football, quickly ran towards her.

“Parisa Ma'am, aap theek ho?” All of them called her ma'am because Parisa was doing her fourth degree and she was their super senior.

(Parisa Ma'am, are you alright?)

“Besharamo'n, pehle mera sar phodte ho aur phir puchte ho mai theek hoon. Ullu ke patthon! Mera hi sar mila tha phodne ke liye?” She started and kept on cursing them in her Desi manner.

(You shameless boys, first you hit my head and then ask me if I'm alright. You fools! You got only head to break?)

“Parisa, in bachchon ka koi kasoor nahi hai, football ko kick maine maari thi.” And there came the guy she was looking for. Who blew the sockets of her brain by hitting it with a stupid football.

(Parisa, these kids are innocent, I had kicked the football.)

“Professor Zaviar!” Parisa shrieked angrily. Her nose flared in anger.

“I am sorry, Parisa. Visiting professor hoon, hafte mein ek baar college padhane aata hoon. And football is my favourite game. Toh kick kuch zyada hi zor se lag gayi.” Zaviar loved football as Ranjha loved Heer. But he had never imagined his Heer will do such a blunder with the Phulan Devi sitting on the ground in front of him.

(I am sorry, Parisa. I'm a visiting professor, once a week I come to the college to give lectures. And football is my favourite sport. So the kick happened a little too furiously.)

“Bhad mein gaye aap, aur bhad mein gayi aapki football! Mera bas chale mai football par ban lagwa doon.” Parisa kept on shouting in anger.

(You go to hell and your football go to hell! If it was upto me I would ban football.)

“Parisa, mai maafi mang raha hoon naa. Acha, mujhe jo marzi punishment dedo, mai chup chap qabool kar lunga.”  Zaviar knew he was going to regret it.

(Parisa, I'm apologizing naa. Okay ,give me whatever punishment, I'll accept it quietly.)

“Pakka?” She asked skeptically.

(Sure!)

“Pakka.” He smiled and forwarded his hand to her. She held onto it and he pulled her up, making her stand up from the ground.

(Sure.)

“Toh kya hai meri saza?” He asked.

(So what's my punishment?)

And Parisa smirked.

🕊️🕊️🕊️

“Kya!? Prank woh bhi Dean par?” Zaviar was astonished to say the least. He regretted the moment when he decided to play football with his students.

(What!? Prank that too on the Dean?)

“Zaviar Sir, kar dijiye naa prank Dean par. Bohat mazaa ayega.” said the football team's captain.

(Zaviar Sir, just do the prank on Dean. I'll be fun.)

“Kya mazaa ayega? Meri shaamat aa jayegi.”  The Dean was a crack head who loved to trouble other professors.

(What fun? Disaster will happen.)

“Sir, please. Uss motey ne bohat sataya hai humein.” Another student pleaded.

(Sir, please. That fatty has troubled us a lot.)

“Mere lecture ka time ho raha. Jab prank karna ho mujhe bula lena.” Parisa told and walked away.

(It's time for my lecture. Call me when you'll do the prank.)

“Lekin kya prank karu Dean par. Maine kabhi kisi par prank nahi kiya.” Zaviar helplessly told the students.

(But what prank should I do on the Dean? I have never pranked someone.)

“Sir, ek prank hai mere dimaag mein, lekin uske liye humein BTech students ki madad chahiye hogi.” said the football team's captain.

(Sir, there is a prank in my mind, but we'll need the help of BTech students for that.)

“Lekin prank hai kya?” Zaviar asked.

(But what is the prank?)

🕊️🕊️🕊️

Parisa was attending her lecture. Zaviar was giving a lecture in his classroom. The football team was scattered in their respective departments.

The interesting fact was that speakers were installed in every room and corridor of the campus. Every building had a separate system, however, the systems could be connected if needed. And those systems could be connected to someone's phone as well, if done by a pro BTech student.

And that's how the prank happened...

Everyone was busy with their tasks when the speaker chimed. A loud and unpleasant ringtone followed.

“Hello.” The voice belonged to the Dean.

“Kya hello! Driver ke hathon bhindi bhijwane ko kaha tha, ab tak nahi aayi.”  A woman shouted angrily.

(What hello! I had told you to send ladyfinger from driver's hand, it still hasn't come.)

“Din shuru hota nahi hai, tumhari kichkich pehle shuru ho jati hai.” Dean sounded annoyed.

(Day doesn't start, but your rubbish already starts.)

“Agar meri kichkich se itni hi pareshani hai toh shadi hi kyun ki mujhse?”

(If my rubbish is so troublesome then why did you marry me?)

“Mai kahaan karna chahta tha tum jaisi chudail se shadi. Woh toh mere baap ne meri ek naa suni.”

(I didn't want to marry a witch like you, my father didn't hear me out.)

Everyone was in fits of laughter hearing the conversation on speakers. Literally the whole campus was laughing.

The Dean too realised that his voice was echoing in the background. He tried again,

“Hello,” And he heard his voice from the speaker.

“Ab kya behre bhi ho gaye ho?” His wife shouted making the listeners laugh even harder.

(Now you have turned deaf as well?)

The Dean immediately cut the call and walked out of his cabin in an angry mood.

🕊️🕊️🕊️

Zaviar had just finished his lecture and was walking towards the library when the Dean stopped him.

“Professor Zaviar!”

Zaviar's rushed steps halted as he heard the Dean's voice. He got nervous. He was afraid that Dean got to know he was the one behind this prank.

Zaviar slowly turned around to face the middle-aged man.

“I think someone pulled a prank on me,” said the Dean, unaware that he was talking to the guy behind the prank.

“Oh... yes, I heard it.” Zaviar nodded trying to act as innocent as possible.

“But I don't understand how it was done. How my phone call could be heard on the speaker all over the campus?” The Dean expressed his doubt.

“Sir, you don't know, these kids nowadays are very advanced in terms of technology. Someone must have hacked your phone and the system of entire campus.” Zaviar looked serious, in a very comical manner.

“Oh, I am not going to leave whoever have done it.”

“Sir, leave it. They are just kids. And it won't be nice for your reputation. If management got to know about it, they are going to blame you only. So, you know, it's better if it remains as a prank.” At the end, Zaviar tried to scare the Dean.

The Dean thought for a while and nodded at him.

“Yes, you are right. Thanks for your advice, Zaviar.” The Dean smiled and walked away.

“Mention not, sir.” Zaviar mumbled while huffing a sigh of relief, “Parisa, aaj toh tumne marwa hi diya.” He spoke dreamily with a smile lingering on his lips.

(Parisa, you got me almost killed today.)

•••

The football incident is inspired from reality.

One day almost all the sections of 12 grade were present in the ground. Teej celebration of college students was going on in the auditorium. Girls were walking around and chatting while boys were playing football.

So the football came flying into my direction. But by luck I moved aside at the very moment. And the football hit my friend's arm.

And I kept on laughing for the next fifteen minutes.

•••

Btw, how's the first chapter?