"Her memories always burnt my healing heart to nothing but ASHES!"- Hisham Hosseini.

Thoughts!

Resentful thoughts.

These were the only types of thoughts that clouded Hisham's mind as he stood on his bedroom's balcony.

Thoughts only brought to him by a certain someone.

A certain someone who went by the name...

Zulekha Akram...

His Ex Wife!

FLASHBACK...

Arguments!

Baseless arguments!

One of the strongest foundations of his so called marriage!

Feeling mentally drained, he let out a long loud sigh, rubbing his temples in circular motions as he listened to his dear wife do what she was very much best at...

Shouting her head off!

"I AM NOT PERSONAL KITCHEN MAID, HISHAM HOSSEINI!"

"I never said you were, Zulekha. You are my wife. My equal. I would never..."

"Then what exactly were you trying to insinuate just a few seconds ago?"

Feeling greatly ashamed, he stared at the burnt eggs in front of him; eggs that he had desperately tried to make and his poor heart couldn't help but sink to its greatest depths when he said...

"All I was trying to tell you Zulekha is that I am genuinely, really really bad in the kitchen. I really am!"

"So is that my fault now? Is it my fault that my husband doesn't know how to make something as simple as a sunny side up?"

Hurt settled deep within his eyes and he quickly looked away feeling greatly insulted afterwich he softly whispered...

"All I asked was for you to spare some of your very precious time to help me make a decent omelette. I am your husband Zulekha, is that too much to ask for?"

"Plus, you barely do anything all day anyway. In fact, what do you even do all day?"

Guilt immediately consumed him and his heart strongly clenched the very second he saw tears stain her eyes and he quickly rushed to embrace her while apologising for his insensitivity only for her to angrily push him away.

"What do you mean by what do I do all day? Just because you don't see me breaking my poor back doing household chores doesn't mean I don't do anything, Hisham..."

"I know. I am sorry, I really didn't mean it that way..."

"Then how exactly did you mean it, Hisham? How exactly did you mean it?"

A stream of hot tears began trickling down her beautiful face causing his heart to clench more and more due to guilt and in the very end, despite her millions of tiny protests, he strongly and forcefully pulled her into his arms, coaxed her down by whispering sweet nothings in her ear, only for all the blood to drain from his face a few seconds later when she wriggled out of his embrace and said...

"You disgust me, Hisham!"

"I never took you to be a man who believes that he is more superior to women. A man who shamelessly thinks that he has a right over every second of his wife's time! A man who actually goes to the extent of questioning her about it."

"I...I...I don't...I would never...," he stuttered.

"Or are you also one of those very much disgusting men who believe that their wives' only place, is in the kitchen! Are you also one of them Hisham? Are you?"

He could only but continue stuttering as a response, tears staining his own eyes as his mind drifted to the millions of times he had done nothing but genuinely tried...

Tried to do his part...

Tried to do it PERFECTLY!

His part, as a husband!

His part, as the man in the house!

Doing his part was something he never expected to be lauded for because in all honesty, he was just doing nothing but the bare minimum!

Coming to the kitchen however, everything was an entirely different case...

A hopeless one at that!

The burnt toasts!

The overly salted rice!

The watery soup!

Not forgetting to mention...

His always very much undercooked, eggshell garnished eggs!

It didn't matter how hard her tried...

The results were always nothing short of a natural disaster!

He silently laughed at himself knowing very well that he couldn't cook to save his own life and as he turned to look at his still sulking wife, a distant look crossed his face and he couldn't help but call out to her...

"Zulekha?"

"Hmmm!"

"Remember the very time we met? Our very first halal meeting..."

"Yeah! What about it?!"

"That very much delicious, that very much lavish buffet that had been thrown on your dining table. You had made me believe that you had made every single dish that lay on it. You had made me believe that cooking was your favourite hobby..."

"So is that why you married me? So that I can sit and cook for you all day?"

"I didn't say that!"

"Then what..."

"I just wanted to know if you flushed that so called hobby of yours down the toilet?!"

"Don't you dare talk to me like that, Hisham!"

Having had every bit of his patience thoroughly tested, he angrily picked up the extremely burnt pan from the cooker, emptied its contents into the bin and then loudly flung it into the sink.

He then turned to look at her while pinching the bridge of his nose hoping it would help calm him down and then said...

"Look Zulekha. It's crystal clear that I can't cook. So either..."

"You cook and I do the dirty dishes!"

"You cook and I do the laundry!"

"You cook and I vacuum the entire house!"

"You just cook, Zulekha! Just cook and I promise I will do any and every other thing you want me to do!"

He looked at her with pleading eyes not knowing what else to say only for her to reply with...

"You are not the only one allowed not to know how to cook, Hisham! I also don't..."

"CAN YOU JUST STOP LYING ALREADY? JUST...STOP... LYING!

Just how many times...

How many times had he eaten her leftover meals after coming back from work?

How many times had he cleaned her cooking mess which included dirty pans and plates on days she claimed that she was "not at all hungry"?

Just how many times had he...

He sighed as he frustratedly and repeatedly raked his hands through his hair afterwich he said...

"I don't know what you are gaining by lying Zulekha but just know that I know you know how to cook and very well at that!"

"FINE! CONTINUE KNOWING BUT ALSO KNOW THAT I AM IN NO MOOD TO COOK RIGHT NOW, HISHAM! SO DEAL WITH IT!"

He sadly stared at her wondering why he always FAILED when it came to her and at his very last attempt to solve the late night feud they were having, he said...

"Let's just have all our dinners at the Hosseini Mansion!"

"EXCUSE ME, WHAT?"

"Yes! My Mama immensely loves cooking, Zulekha. She invites us over every day anyway. It would only but make her happy if we actually did show up!"

"You're not man enough Hisham!"

"WHAT?"

"How can you even think of suggesting that I go eat at my mother in law's house every day? Don't you have any form of respect in you? Don't you have any sort of pride?"

"But..."

"I will not go there! That's it!"

Feeling nothing but greatly confused and as much as he didn't want to shout, he just couldn't help it...

"THEN WHAT DO YOU WANT ZULEKHA? WHAT DO YOU WANT? KINDLY, ENLGHTEN ME PLEASE!"

"Order in Hisham! Order in! For the both of us!"

"Everyday?"

"Yes!"

He let out an extremely loud emotionless laugh not at all believing his ears after which he said...

"I don't have that kind of money!"

"Huh? Of course you don't. You are a miser, Hisham!"

Waves of anger coursed through him and he forcefully pulled her towards him, pulled out his phone from his trouser's pocket and as much as he wanted to slam the damn phone onto her face, he didn't.

He placed his phone on the kitchen's work top, opened his online banking application and quickly scrolled through his account desperately wanting her to see and more so understand.

"What miser Zulekha? What miser?"

"Look, our Maldives honey moon trip! It literally cost me an arm and a leg!"

"Those fancy restaurant dinners you want to have every other day! They don't come for free, Habibty!"

"I also give you half of my pay check every month and as for this mansion...I had to sell my very own sha...Never mind, you would never understand!"

"I am nothing but broke Zulekha. Nothing...but...broke!"

He stared at her hoping she would understand only for her to yell...

"Can you stop lying, Hisham? Just stop lying! Your father...

"How many times do I have to tell you that my father is rich, not me. I am on a salary, Zulekha..."

"It doesn't matter to my father if it's a prince or a frog. Anyone on my post will earn the same amount of money! The earlier you get that into your head the better."

He knew she didn't at all believe him upon seeing the great amount of distrust that lay deep within her eyes and in the end, he only but let out a long tired sigh as he said...

"Zulekha, I really and very much honestly cannot afford the lavish life you want to live. If you still really want to live such a life, then simply get a job."

To say that she was completely taken aback by what he said would be a complete understatement but it took her only a mere couple of seconds to get over it and then venomously reply...

"Get a job? Even if I do get a job Hisham, remember in Islam, a husband is the one to provide for his wife. My money will STRICTLY be my money."

"Well then your dear husband here, that's if you even consider me to be yours, cannot afford to live the life you want to live. You clearly got the wrong guy here, Zulekha. Sorry!"

She only but ended up literally laughing in his face making him feel greatly insulted once again and then said...

"I can't do this with you anymore. All this useless arguing has made me hungry!"

"Good for you then. Just remember you have a husband when you do decide to cook!"

She once again laughed in his face, picked up his phone from the kitchen counter and said while walking out...

"SORRY HONEY! I AM ORDERING AND YOU ARE PAYING!"

***

He looked out into the silent night as many of these types of horrible memories flashed through his mind only for him to let out a loud gasp, the very second he felt his mother's hand, on his very much sweat drenched back.

Not at all failing to notice her son's rugged breath and extremely tear stricken face, Yasmin lovingly took one of his cold hands into hers, kissed it and while staring out into the distance, she said...

"You still think of her, Hisham!"

He inhaled sharply remaining nothing but silent for quite some time afterwich he softly whispered...

"With my every breath, Mama. I think of her with my every single little breath!"

"Why?"

"I LOVED HER."

To be continued...

***

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ASALAM ALEIKUM.