[meri har manmaani bas tum tak,
baatein bachkaani bas tum tak
meri nazar deewaani bas tum tak
mere sukh dukh aate jaate saare
tum tak tum tak tum tak sone yaar]

She throws gang signs when Tu Hi Haqeeqat plays.

And that's really nasty looking but it somehow makes me laugh.

Why does she do all the weird things on earth? She's a compilation of all the things that make me gag.

The glimmer of her eyes hides away in the middle of the song and I get myself to believe it's some thought she suddenly got, but then her gorgeous eyes trace my eyelashes.

Uff yeh teri palkein ghani seen
Chaaon innh ki hai dilnasheen
Ab kisse ddar dhoop ka hai
Kyun ki hain yeh mujh pe bichheen

She stops the music and looks out of the window with a thoughtful face.

"Kyun? Thak gayi ajeebness dikhaa dikhaa ke?" I ask.

♡♡♡

Apparently I was wrong. That was just a wave of sadness. There was much more ajeebness in her that I was yet to see.

I yawn and glance at my watch.

We watched the sunrise with two plastic cups of chai just a while ago.

"Ghar khul gayaa ho ga," I say as I rotate the steering wheel.

"Khul gayaa ho ga kyaa hota hai? Hotel hai koyi? Amusement park hai?"

I dismiss Xavier's call.

"Your channel has become the second most subscribed. Yehi bataane ke liye kar rahaa ho ga." She says and I look at her to see her watching my screen.

"You know who Xavier is?"

She shrugs, "Anza."

"Tum ne phuppo se kahaa kyaa?" I ask, moving her attention.

The YouTube channel wasn't really worth it. After last night I feel like it wasn't worth losing the friendship at all.

"Kyaa kahaa maine?" Ms. Forgetful wonders to herself.

Joh bhoolna chaahiye woh bhoolta nahin isse.

My eyes subconsciously go to her covered forearms. The ring on one of her slender fingers yearns to sit calmly but her hyperactive personality won't allow it any rest.

She keeps fidgeting it while she thinks of last evening.

"Gaana gaa rahi thi main shaayad... Mood kharaab tha unn ka. Kehti hain— Nahin nahin! Main juice pee rahi thi, woh bartan uttha rahi thi, tou maine awain mazaak mein gaaya, rang biranga paani pee ke, seedhi saadhi kuri bigarr gayi, tou unnhon ne murr ke mujhe gusse se dekha— waise bhi pyaar se dekhti kahaan hain,"

I laugh and she rolls her eyes,

"Lekin extra gusse se dekha, tou aage alfaaz hi yeh the, achha? jaan ke nahin kiya maine, dekh ke mujh ko hassta gaata, sarr gayi yeh dunya sarr gayi. Tou ranjeeda ho gayi phuppo. Phir... mujhe nahin pataa kyaa hua, apni ammi pe gayi hain woh."

I gesture the watchman and he unbars the gate, I thank him with a small smile and almost crash the car with the wall when Ms. Faint-Of-Heart puts her cold hands over mine on the steering wheel.

My body stiffens at the touch and I look at her, who's casually chirping as if nothing happened.

"—kyun ke mujh mein badle ki aag ka shola laraz raha hai!" A villainous laughter along with a clap errupt when she moves her soft hands to each other with a smirk.

She leans back on her seat and her eyes coruscate in a sparkling excitement. I blink mine away.

She stops the music on my phone and searches for a song. We had muted it but hadn't stopped the playlist for some reason.

I park the car and look at my phone to see her preparing herself.

Oo meherbaan ve
karaan main tera sukriya ve
Oo sahibaa ve
mareez-e-ishq ho gayaa ve
Mainu lagdi nahin koyi dawaa ve
mera Rabb hi hai mera gawaah ve
Hurn tu kar mera faisla ve
joh naal tere naa jiya
toh jee ke ki karaan
Tera, tera, (...) tera, tera hua haan
Aashiq tera, tera, (...) tera hua haan

While the lyrics repeat, I vividly live the moment we get inside the house.

As if this is going to be a core memory. One of the biggest trees in the jungle of my mind.

A breath of energy seeps in me despite the many hours of depriving myself of sleep.

There's a hangover feeling buzzing in my head. Maybe the hangover of her uniquely gorgeous laughter. Or of her bubbly eyes, which are always clinging onto some kind of happiness. Always trying to grasp onto the good side of every particle the universe consists of.

She looks up at me as she takes my hand and puts me in the middle of the scene. Right in front of the dining table.

I watch her eyes coloring themselves into a very dramatic blue. Her contagious duchenne smile infects me as well.

"hosh baaton ka aksar nahin tha,
dil humaara tou shaayar nahin tha,"

She dedicates the song to me in a very actressy manner, theatrical tiktoker.

"tune likh di yeh taqdeer warna,
ishq waala muqaddar nahin tha..."

Her hands raise up for bhangra as she circles around me and a shameless laugh elopes my lips.

"teri nazron ke karam
jhootte hain deen-o-dharam
kiye jaa tu kiye jaa
abbhi kuchh aur sitam,"

she runs up the stairs and gestures to me while shouting the song in a melodious fashion.

"nahin sambhla dil mere sambhaale,

isse kar ddaala tere hawaale
tu mittaa de yaa chaahe bachaa le
jaa ishq pe mere chalaa le apni marziyaan"

She slams the door of her room and I shake my head at her amusing behavior while heading towards the dining table.

Only to realize the whole table is full.

And everyone's looking at me now.

Disowning my phone, I look up towards her door as the smile bids bye to my lips.

"Ae ke haurn lage aa ae?" Phuppo asks, for the first time in history, glaring at me with anger.

I'm almost shrugging my shoulders when Zaira opens the door to sing the rest of the song.

"dil ke aage yeh aafat bari hai
khwaahishein phir bhi zidd pe arri hain
hum se maayoos hoga zamaana,
par zamaane ki kisko parri hai?

zamaane ka darr chhoro Hamza, bataa do sab ko tumhain mujh se ishq ho gayaa hai!"

Her laugh echoes before the words even end. She closes the door and leaves the Q&A on me.

♡♡♡

"No. No, no, not at all. I'm sure it's in your office." It's right in my room but Zain's ass needs to leave me the fuck alone.

"Hamza, I checked—"

I look back towards the source of melody, "—Zain, I don't have the file. Go fish around your office."

I'm walking past Zain down the stairs when I notice his brows arched.

"What?"

He looks towards the kitchen and shrugs with a shake of head before leaving to his room to search for the file.

Zain's such an asshole.

Someday I'm going to list down all his omnishambles and taunt him for them to take revenge of the way he always catches me during my foul-up moments.

I glare at his head as he peeks back once again with a smirk.

As I climb down the stairs I keep looking up to make sure he doesn't glance back. A whistle and ruffling hair along the walk to disguise.

Haroon, the blind guy, bumps into me.

I look at him and he raises his chin, upset.

I raise my chin back, arrogant.

"Raat ko kahaan the?" He raises his chin.

I look behind him towards the kitchen, where Ms. Philosopher is casting round the cabinets.

"Apni behen se poochho."

"Uss ne subbhah woh kyun kahaa joh uss ne kahaa? Tum log larre kyun nahin? Yahaan aane ke baad sirf do baar kyun larre? WhatsApp pe toh jaani dushman bane phirte the? Usse kyaa kehte ho, khud mein bhi guts nahin hain tum mein larrne ke."

He keeps his hubbub on play as background music.

She looks so pretty, her hair curls from the roots till the ends in very shrunken long noodles.

Thinking of it, her hair must be really long without the curl shrinkage. I wonder what it looks like when straight.

I picture it.

Nuh, curls suit her better.

"Oh hello," Haroon waves his hand and almost looks behind himself at the sister of his that I was gawking at but I quickly camouflage the situation by walking him outside.

"Kitne saal ke ho tum?" I scrutinize him as I gently fucking push him out of the house by his shoulder.

"Fifteen and a half." He's talking so full of ego, as if he were much much older and experienced than me.

"Fifteen and a half," I repeat,

"Hm!"

"What age did you get this egois— m-mature at?"

"Don't change the topic, aise waise iraadon se meri behen ke paas nahin aana. Fifteen and a half tumhain zyaada nahin lagta toh yeh jaan lo ke karate aata hai mujhe. Belt beshaq brown-black nahin, lekin purple stripe ko underestimate mat karna. Do second mein life se out."

Sahi uss churrail ka bhai hai.

— Z A I R A —

I gathered the ingredients and turned the stove on.

"tu jeene ka sahaara
mere yaara o yaara mere yaar
ho o ho tu jahaan se bhi pyaara
mere yaara o yaara mere yaar

tere intezaar mein hoon
tere khumaar mein hoon
ab meri har duaa mein
rehta hai tu...

yeh jaan le ke hai

tu... mohabbat hai
tu... inaayat hai
tu... tujhi se main hoon

ohoo...oo

tu... meri aadat hai
tu... meri chaahat hai
tu... tujhi se main hoon

tujhi se main hoon

haan, akhiyaan nu akhiyaan—"

I saw Mr. Naamuraad leaning on the door jamb and watching me. He shrieked out of his daydream when I silenced myself and whisked the batter.

He walked in the kitchen, ever so silently.

Could you have danced any more in one day? Any more unprepossessing step?

Haaye Allah he intruded my privacy again, this was a me moment, he should have left after seeing me dance.

This is always going to remain embarrassing.

Subbhah waale toh phir planned the, abbhi I wasn't even aware of myself, why would he look at me?

I replayed the song and bounced my hair again to hear a chuckle from his side.

Shit. I left my hair alone.

Last night he said (claimed!) that I bounce my hair whenever I'm nervous and I denied it but now I could see what I had never noticed.

The first point on the blind self section of The Johari Window.

I squealed out loud at the combination of Aadee's voice and the feeling of satisfaction for remembering the name of the analogy.

Ya Allah, Ms. Philosopher who?

"Oye bas. Kaan ke parde phaarro gi abbh?"

I looked behind at him and moved back to screaming the song.

"haan yaheen kaheen,
gum huaa
mujh se mera pataa

haan jaagi jaagi
aankhon mein hai
bas tera khwaab sa"

Atif Aslam joined me; ;)

"saazishein yeh lamhon ne kar ke
hum ko mila hi diya

oo...o dheere dheere dil ne mere
bin kahe keh diya

anjaana tha jo armaan
tum se hi maine jaana
tum ko jahaan banaa ke
abbh main jiyun
yeh jaan le ke hai

tu... mohabbat hai
tu... inaayat hai
tu... tujhi se main hoon

tujhi se main hoon"

I squirted the batter on the pan.

"haan chherein mujhe
saansein meri
deke tera waasta
haan chori chori
bann'ne lagi
teri meri daastan

khushiyon ke bahaane sabhi
tumhi se hain milne lage
oo...oo
na nana nana raahon pe hum
saath chalne lage

shaamil huaa tu aise
dil mein sabar ho jaise
phir besabar main ho ke
kaise jiyun

yeh jaan le ke hai

tu... mohabbat hai
tu... inaayat hai
tu... tujhi se main hoon

tujhi se main hoon

wo...oo

tu... meri aadat hai
tu... meri chaahat hai
tu... tujhi se main hoon
tujhi se main hoon"

God knows when he left but thankfully he did and I could, without any shame, play the video where Aadee says I love you to Sara and obsess over it.

Dil jalta tou hai lekin Aadee ke chehre aur awaaz ki muskuraahatt ki wajaah se baar baar dekhne ko bhi karta hai dil.

Kyaa hi baat thi agar mama papa ne mera naam Zaira naa rakh ke Sara rakh diya hota.

Masle hi kyaa hone the zindagi mein?

Poora din gaanon ke bajaae woh aik audio download kar ke sunti main.

Lekin khair, kabbhi kisi ko mukammal jahaan nahin milta, kabbhi zameen nahin milti toh kabbhi asmaan nahin milta.

Jee lein ge dukh mein bhi pancakes ke sahaare.

♡♡♡

"Tum ne bajjo ka sharmaana dekha nahin jab bhaijaan innh se mohabbat ka izhaar kar rahe the," chaachi indirectly teased taayi ammi and I giggled,

"Dekha maine dekha,"

"Haan naa, bikul surkh ttamaattar ki tarha ho gayaa tha innh ka chehra—"

"Safina! Bas. Awain kujh vi?" She grew annoyed and quickly changed the topic before the blush appeared again, "Ithe aa, Zaira, tere waalan te tel maar chhorran, aur sone ho jaasan,"

"Aaho, payback le le. Pay-back ae ke rishwat ae? Agge aurh isran de confession karwaarn waaste. Bajjo di te khushi di intehaa—"

"Safina, bas kar!" Taayi ammi got redder than a tomato once again and I couldn't hold my laughter in when chaachi gestured towards it.

I sat down in front of her and she massaged my head with some baadaam ka tel while I hugged my knees and closed my eyes.

Instant soothing.

Intimacy with one's self is so... not talked about?

This me, this closeness, no one can ever come this close to me.

I thought of my future husband and a smile slid in the action lines out of nowhere.

Even if someone's skin is making direct contact with mine, they still won't be clashing in me.

This is why I could never be a book writer. What does clashing in me even mean, ew?

The fluttering of my eyes, the feel of my lips touching themselves, my own hands on my own skin. It's all so intimate, I rarely ever notice it.

I traced the goosebumps above my sleeves.

Intimacy with another person is cool and all but we rarely ever notice being with ourselves. Because we've always been with our bodies and minds and now we take them for granted.

I fluttered my eyes to notice the movement and moved my neck towards the plate of freshly made pancakes. My elbow detached from my waist and my hand reached up to tear the soft surface of the pancakes in a bite.

Alhamdulillah, all of these are such privileges; the floor below me spoke of our financial conditions; the plate screamed desi culture; the soft skin against my arms thanked me for all the self care; the pancakes, a representation of how much free time I have for myself; the self-acquired ring on my finger, a display of freedom; the texture of his warm strong hands on my cold ones when he took the bite of pancake from my hands and my eyes that were witnessing all of it, two blessings I rarely ever thank for.

Janaab Waada-e-faramosh tasted it as if he were a MasterChef judge and grimaced right after it passed down his throat but picked a whole pancake up and took it upstairs with himself.

I laughed and closed my eyes to go back to that homey intimacy.

Apne aagosh mein jitni aafiyat hai,
qaainat ke kisi aur hisse mein nahin.

♡♡♡

"Phuppo," I cut down her gossiping over the dining table, "Ihtesham bhai roz ghar se nikal ke halal kamaayi karne jaate hain, ghar mein jaa ke apni biwi ka haath battaate hain kyun ke woh apni biwi se bohot muhabbat karte hain aur bach'e naa karna un ka zaati faisla hai. Kal Ihteshaam bhai apni zoja ke liye gajrey le ke gaye aur unnh ki begum ne unnh ka pasandeeda khaana banaaya."

"Tenu kis daseya ae?"

"Uss ne toh bilkul nahin jis ne aap ko yeh bataaya ke woh joru ke ghulaam hain, apni biwi ke neeche dabe hue hain bawajood iss ke ke woh naaqis hain, naa unnhain ghar ka khaana pakaana aata hai aur (etc, etc,) baaqi sab baqwaas. Itni buri zehniyat nahin hai unnh mein se kisi ki bhi jin se mera mel-jhol hai."

"Ae main apun takeyaa ae."

"Toh phir toh bohot buri nazar hai aap ki, kuchh achha dikhaayi hi nahin deta? Aur bohot buri zubaan bhi jis se kabbhi kuchh qaabil-e-tareef sunaa hi nahin—"

"Zaira!" Mama stopped me and I moved my eyes towards her, "Baron ka lehaaz karna bhool gayi—"

"—Itni hi bari hain yeh toh samajh kahaan ghaayab hai innh ki? Yeh baatein 14 saal ke bachon ke saamne karte hue sharam nahin aati innhain? Harr waqt pataa nahin kyaa kyaa bolti hain, itni buri zehniyat ke saath zinda kaise reh sakta hai koyi? Har jagaah har insaan mein khaamiyaan nikaalti hain, khush kaise reh leti hain aap? Auron ki zindagi mein ghusna band karein aur apne bete ki taraf dehaan dein jis mein itni aqal nahin ke nazar kahaan karni hai."

I'd been wearing extra modest dresses, taking the dupatta properly and covering myself in every way possible these days. Smiling as I bore Uzair's devilish intentions just for the sake of the calm in the house.

But he was now troubling Alina and my baby sister jaan ka totta WAS noticing it and getting uncomfortable.

Unbearable.

Just for the sake of this calm I could not ignore his misbehavior.

Jise khud apni izzat aur sukoon ka lehaaz nahin uss ka lehaaz main kyun karoon?

Everyone stared at Uzair and phuppo fired back at me.

I rolled my eyes and when I saw a smirk on Uzair's lips I took the knife and sliced his throat open.

Everyone reached up to stop me but it was already done.

I had stolen the smirk out of his lips.

I rightfully smirked at the dead body.

"Zaire, salaad pass karin,"

Forget the daydream, I startled at the nickname.

Zaire.

I passed him the plate of salad.

♡♡♡

Kasam khuda ki yaa toh mujhe sab yaad rehta hai tafseel mein, yaa kuchh yaad nahin rehta.

I don't know what he was doing in my room, and what I was doing in between the wall and him, just starting up in his eyes and ditching my future husband as I got lost in a different universe.

Sab khwaab.

I saw him puffing away in a smoke, totally disappearing, and held the wall behind me for support.

Sometimes I feel like they have some meaning. Lekin pataa nahin aise hi khwaab kyun aate hain, badtameez achhe khwaabon ki tou jaise zaati dushmani ho mujh se.

I lay down and snuggle at ease.

Meri ghalti nahin hai.

Khaane ke maiz pe Hamza ki dashna-e-gamza ne sukoon ki saans nahin lene di.

I sighed and called Anza after seeing her messages.

"Hello ji. Wadde lok ho gaye ho tuss... tussaan te—"

"Tusseen, and no. Not in the mood. Anza yaar..."

"Kyaa? Pacemaker lagwaane waali baat phir se kar di ghar waalon ne, haina? Or you fought with your mum?"

I sighed as I pulled my blanket and untangled my earphones while she kept on blabbering,

"Or worst of all, kaheen surprise shaadi toh nahin karwaa di Pakistan jaate hi tumhaari? Oh my God! Yehi ho ga, YE HI HO GA, omg mere baggeir shaadi kar li tum ne? Iss hi liye kabbhi phone calls nahin utthaati thi naa? Shaadi mein busy thi? Jaanti hoon main sab, wahaan jaa ke jeeju ke pyaar mein mujhe bhool gayi tum I swear I'm never going to forgive you for this. Kis liye rent pe liya tha studio? Kis liye itne Bollywood dances practice kiye the? Yeh din dekhne ke liye? Tumhain teen dafaa qubool hai kehte hue aik dafaa sharam nahin aayi ke best friend ko invitation card na sahi aik whatsapp kar ke hi bataa doon?"

:(

"Zaira! Kyaa waqt huaa hai wahaan? So rahi ho? Oh no— Suhagraat manaa rahi ho? Beech mein mujhe call ki tum ne? Jeeju saamne hain! Yaa abbhi woh apne doston yaaron ke saath hain aur aaye bhi nahin kamre mein? Tips chaahiye? Ruko main bataati hoon maine notes mein likh ke rakha tha."

:(

"Jeeju ka naam toh bataao yaaaarrrr! Bro maine kahaa tha naa? Pataa tha mujhe. Tumhaari ammi ko waise hi nahin passand tum. Jaldi dafaa karne ke chakkar mein thi woh tumhain, meri sun li hoti, yahaan ruk gayi hoti toh yeh sab naa hota. Jeeju hain kaise? Pait toh nahin nikla huaa? Ganje toh nahin hain? Ameer hain? Daant kaise hain? Picture hi bhej do yaar koyi yeh kyaa badtameezi hai?"

I covered my ears with the blanket to save myself from cold and smiled at the image of Hamza and those adjectives on him. Nikla hua pait, ganje, terrhe-merhe daant...

Daanton ke paas woh qaatil dimples tou phir bhi hain.

I frowned.

"Zaira! Zinda ho tum?"

"Hm," I didn't want to say anything. "Yaar tumhain itna sawaalon ka jawaab maangna zaroori hai? Do minute ruk ke saansein hi sun lo meri?"

"Kyaa? Kyaa baqwaas kar rahi ho? Yeh suno, list mil gayi mujhe. Sab se pehle—"

"Anza," I whined, "Koyi suhagraat nahin."

"Kyun? Yeh tumhaari saas ne kahaa? Kaisi saas mili hai tumhain bhai? Khandaan kaise aage bhare ga? Jeeju ko paas aane dein gi nahin poora saal phir complain karein gi ke bahu bache nahin paida kar rahi. Iss se behtar toh tum mere bhai se shaadi kar leti, saas sasur ka koyi masla hi nahin," she laughed and I heard the pain in her laughter.

"Nanad bohot hai naa."

"Haan, package mein nanad toh zaroor hoti. By the way, I never told you but I always knew you'd never get married to Ahmad. Ahmad tumhaari passand mein dour dour tak nahin tha. Humdardi mein tum bhi kyaa kyaa karti ho—"

"Bewaqoofi mein tum bhi kyaa kyaa kehti ho? Tumhaare bhai se kaho abbhi bhi chances hain. Aur jhalli aurat shaadi nahin ki maine koyi. Lekin pataa nahin kitni dafaa cheat kar chuki hoon future husband pe. Atif Aslam ka toh main usse samjhaa bhi sakti thi abbh yeh sab kaise samjhaaon gi?"

"Zaira, don't talk to me. Ghantte se main pataa nahin kyaa kyaa khwaab banaa rahi hoon tum ne aik dafaa ttoka tak nahin?"

"Khwaab hi hain mere bhi dushman. Pataa nahin kyaa ho rahaa hai yaar. Kar kyaa rahi hoon main?"

"Kyaa? Contraceptive toh istamaal kiyaa naa?"

"Anza abbh main list banaa loon gi tumhain kitni kutt lagaani hai. Tang nahin karo mujhe."

"Toh phir kis baat ka sog manaa rahi ho aise?"

I closed my eyes and when I heard silence from her side, I ended the call and played Atif Aslam.

♡♡♡

I rechecked the message I sent a while ago.

@Shareef Bachey
Zaira:
Pakorey khaane hain tou
aa jaaoooo!! @ porch

15 minute tou ho gaye hain bheje hue, kisi ne parrha nahin kyaa?

I checked the info and sadly, but connecting the dots I realised how annoying they all find me.

It silenced me for two minutes but a giggle stole my breath for a short while as I busied myself in watching the two birds kissing, just a few feet away from me.

"Khatam toh nahin kar diye!" I heard a very Haroon-ish exclamation but the voice was deeper and,

"Tum meri zindagi mein aaye hi azaab ban kar ho. Do second parindon se khushi kyaa le li maine, tum se bardaasht nahin hua behiss insaan? Urra diya naa mere Khushi Kushal ko?"

Haroon-ish exclamation but extremely non-Haroon-ish person. Mr. Unpleasant.

"Ew," He grimaced and looked down towards the stairs before sitting down two steps below me. "Khushi, Kushal,"

"Ew, you're right. Jaldbaazi mein yehi naam nikla lekin mazmoon nahin badlo, tum ne mere parindey urra diye, kyaa manzar chal rahaa tha. Urre bhi dono alag alag rukh le kar abbh pataa nahin kaise jaa ke milein ge." I frowned, "Kabbhi naa mile tou? Poori zindagi tumhain badd'duaaein dein ge. Sahi ishq moshuqiyaan chal rahi theen tum ne aa kar—"

"—Ishq ki bachi yeh kal kyaa phasaaya tum ne mujhe? Hamza ko kyun ho ga itni bekaar larki se ishq?" He leaned back.

Yeh samajhta kyaa hai khud ko?

I snatched the pakora he just picked out of his hand, "Bekaar larki ke haath ke pakorey bhi nahin khaao phir," even though he had stuffed one in his mouth already.

"Chalo, yaani bekaar tou tum ho." He dusted his hands off and looked up in the sky. "Mrrhn, itna teekha kaun khaata hai?" He blew out a spicey breath.

"Hum se tou teekha hi banta," I shrugged.

I pushed my head on my knees and looked at him as he blabbered on and on.

Iss ko koyi kaise do din se oopar jhel sakta hai?

Itni tou yeh baqwaas karta hai.

"Aur phir phuppo ko bhi tou gussa kam nahin aaya, apne paas bitthaa ke joh buraaiyaan ki unnhon ne tumhaari. Kalmey bhi parrh ke phooke ke kaheen se jaadu tona hi naa karwaa rahi ho tum unnh ke masoom bachey pe."

Masoom bachey pe.

I snorted and he paused to look at me but I nodded to have him talk further.

Itna mehv-e-zaat banda maine zindagi mein nahin dekha. Joh raat ko ghantton tak iss ne apni masroof zindagi ki shokhiyaan maari hain naa. Uff, tobah hai. Ubaasiyaan aaye nahin jaa rahi thi.

Hairaani ki baat tou hai waise.

Basketball, vlogging, skit-making, acting, studies, podcasts, gym, managing The Hayats branch in New York, living with one roommate and dividing the house chores in half, looking hot 24/7, trapping girls and leading a playboy life, and yet he still manages to take out time for himself.

And the occasional new experimenting, such as playing the guitar, singing, cameos, learning tango, sports car racing, um... baaqi Anza ko pataa ho ga, but all of that is so cool.

That's the type of life I want.

YEH JAWAANI HAI DEEWAANI KA BUNNY BANN'NA HAI MUJHEY!

I'm very happy with my fun life, I experiment around a lot too, but not as much as him.

And I've always wanted to include a sport in my routine. He's a well known basketball player of an infamous team.

Lekin yahaan routine ho, tab naa. Itni spontaneous zindagi hai. Shaayad best part yehi hai meri zindagi ka. Spontaneity.

Kabbhi raat ko sote waqt yeh nahin pataa hona chaahiye agla dinn kyaa surprises laa rahaa hai.

He munched on my pakoras, "Main kasam khaa ke bataa sakta hoon yeh tum ne nahin banaae."

I opened my mouth, suddenly getting defensive but then decided to attack back, "khaa lo, jhootti kasme waade khaao humaisha ki tarhaa, mere pakorey mere liye hi sahi hain—waise raat ko main soch rahi thi, dining table pe joh saibon ka bowl hai, uss mein saib nikaal ke Maltesers ddaal dete hain. Saib toh koyi khaata nahin, chocolate kha ke hi kyaa pataa meetthi ho jaae zubaan."

He glared at me, putting his happy shappy mood on pause.

"Ghar ke sab afraad ki baat ho rahi hai. Aik tou chor ko apni hi khurakti hai."

"Yea whatever."

"Chor ki daari mein tinka." I added another when I realised he didn't understand the first one. And I knew he was not going to get this one either but it's so fun to annoy him.

"Bhai, bas. Literature book naa le aao apni yahaan."

"Ultta chor kotwaal ko ddaantte.

"Very lame. Your urdu doesn't make you any cooler."

"Angoor khatte."

"That doesn't even have anything to do with the topic. Short term memory patient, we were talking about sweetness. Those pancakes—"

"—Naach naa jaane aangan terrha."

"Aangan? What, what even? You're just randomly throwing them in."

"You're right. Bandar kyaa jaane adrak ka swaad."

"What the fuck?"

"Aik machhli saare taalaab ko ganda karti hai."

He went mum and let me blabber.

"Aik chup so sukh."

[naa apna aap dikhaayi de,
jab dekhoon khud ko darpan mein,]