"The only thing worse than a boy who hates you, is a boy who loves you."--Markus Zusak (The Book Thief)

Mina's POV:

It's been a couple of weeks since my family dumped me on Kulsoom Nani. She had blackmailed me into staying at her place for the month instead of my own.

"Your house faces the west, girl." She had huffed to me, "Everyone knows it's bad for my Alzheimer's during October!"

I would have swallowed these science-less facts if it weren't for the fact that she didn't have Alzheimer's. She did have a chronic need to annoy me though.

On the way to her house she tried to convince me to dump Simba at random busy roads, basically she wanted my baby to become roadkill.

Upon reaching her house, (which looks like something out of a heritage museum file), she told me to occupy the tower room, approximately 500 miles away from her own. Not that I'm complaining, but I did feel slightly unwelcome at this command.

EMV muttered, 'A dragon inside a castle locking you up in a tower....you better grow out that hair.'

Apparently, she had good reason for giving me the tower room (I've found that she almost always has one). The tower room had an attached playroom for Simba, complete with a brand new litter box, and a tiny kitty castle! The room itself is light and airy, with a netted white canopy bed, and recessed alcoves stuffed with plush cushions. The view from my room's turreted balcony is breathtakingly gorgeous of course.

The dragon's castle is surrounded by sprawling gardens, and even a good-sized farmland area. I can spot a couple of artificial ponds, and waterfalls among the lush wooded areas of her lawn. The house itself is made of old red stone, and modeled after old Indian Haveli (historical castle) style house.

Kulsoom Nani had traveled to karachi during the 1947 partition between India and Pakistan, but she had left behind her family's sprawling estate in the process.

She once told me that when her late husband learned how much she missed her family home, he did his best to recreate the place for her in Pakistan. I thought it was one of the most romantic things ever! He actually traveled back to India, with an architect, in search of the place, so as to capture the essence of that home.

Kulsoom Nani almost always teared up whenever she recalled this story, which is bizarre in itself.

Kulsoom Nani's kids are now all grown up and living abroad or have their own places in the city. Her grandkids (My cousins), keep dropping in now and then, so I guess she rarely feels lonely. Her stories from her kids' childhood are hilarious. This place is filled with so many anecdotes, so much love, so much history, it's awe-inspiring. Whenever I hang out with her, she gives me tours, and recalls every little (embarrassing) incident that happened there.

"Girl! you see those wrought iron gates to the barn house?" She squints during one of our walks. "Your Uncle Mansoor stuck his head in it once; we had to saw the grills away to release his huge head. That child has been a disgrace to my womb I tell you...Hmph, not very bright he was. I have no idea how he managed to get a government post. Says a lot about our government...."

"Ahaan!" I mumble, texting Adiba surreptitiously.

"Hmmph, put that brain eating device away girl! don't you know it is causing baldness in men." She taps her cane against my hands. "And control your obese cat! it has ruined two of my rose bushes."

I glance up from my phone to witness Simba wrestling with a third rose-bush. Damn, that kitty had a lot of energy!

"Oh my God! I am so sorry Drag- err, Kulsoom Nani! I will def-" I hasten to reassure her.

"You are aware that our ground-keeper has two rottweilers for security? They will munch that furry thing in less than a bite! he doesn't even qualify as a decent-sized appetizer for Gog and Magog." She cuts me off.

Dear lord, even her dogs' names were terrifying. Simba was reluctantly snuggled in my arms for future outings.

I'm glad that this place is slightly outside the actual city parameter, after living my whole life in the smoky hustle bustle of Karachi, this seems like a breath of fresh air. Traveling to work is a pain in the butt though. The Dragon makes her chauffeur drive me to work in one of her huge Land Cruisers, which totally makes up for the long drive. I actually arrive early to office despite the 75-minute drive.

Do I feel like a total urban princess? Yes. Do I miss my own (relatively) tiny home? Hell yes.

I skype with Mom and Dad regularly, even though 90% of our conversations turn out like this:

Me: Salam Ma and Dad!

Mom: HELLOOO?? CAN YOU HEAR US?

Me: Uh, yes I can hear you just fine, how is the Hajj going?

Dad: Ayesha, I don't think she can see us....What on earth does "low connectivity" mean..??

Mom: MINA! CAN YOU SEE US SWEETIE?

Me: YES! I can see you Ma, can you just talk to me?

Dad: *Beep Boop*...Look what you did now, it says it is muted! what does that mean? is my voice muted, or hers?

Me: Daddy, please stop pressing buttons. Please.

Mom: I CAN SEE YOU NOW HONEY! NOD TWICE IF YOU CAN HEAR ME!

Dad: How much is this costing me?

Me: Skype is free Dad!...Er, Ma, can you move the tablet away away from your face? I can only see your nose.

Mom: SPEAK LOUDER MINA! CAN YOU SEE ME NOW?

Me: You know what, I think Kulsoom Nani wanted to speak to you guys....

I hand off my iPad to the dragon most of the time. Both sides end up yelling at each other about mute buttons and network connections, until one of the devices gives up the fight, and surrenders to low battery. Intense.

I am super envious of the cool snap-chats Adiba and Ali send me. Laden with hashtags #Food, #Sun, #ThailandLove.
Hmmph. If they weren't super cute, (and if they hadn't bought gifts for me), I'd be annoyed at this evil inbox spamming.

Shehzer has taken to skyping every other night with me. Both of us are so tired by that time, we barely ask niceties before nodding off. He wanted to come to Karachi last weekend, but I told him not to overspend on air fare. Skype and texting aside, I am kind of shy about hanging out with him, now that I know how deeply he feels for me.

For the most part, living here has its perks.

One such perk happens to be an outdoor projector screen.

12 square feet, and killer graphics! let me just say I will never watch "The Conjuring" quite that way again.

An upcoming Pakistan Vs. India match is going to be an epic one with this screen. My cousins and I have already planned the whole day. To say that we are insane about cricket is an understatement.

Someone will bleed green soon! Inshallah.

Shehzer's POV:

I call Mina from the airport cab as soon as I land in Karachi. Her cell Phone kept ringing, but she didn't pick up. I frowned as I dialed the landline number she had given me of her Nani's place.

"What?"an incredibly impatient male voice exclaims.

"Assalamualikum, is this Kulsoom-er-Nani's place?" I ask cautiously.

"Wassalam. Yes it is. Anything else you want me to answer? It's not like we don't have a life and death situation going on here...."

I choke on my tongue in my worry, "WHAT? Is everything okay? Is anyone hurt? Where's Mina?"

"No, everything is not okay. We are going through hell right now!"

My heart droops at his words. Allah have mercy!

"Is Mina okay? Is she hurt? What is going on man?" I almost yell at him.

"MINA IS JUST FINE, BUT TEAM GREEN IS NOT!" He hollers back, "Have you seen the run target they gave us? It's a bloodbath dude!"

I must have mentally murdered this faceless stranger a million time in the past few seconds. Freaking cricket fanatics. I gritted out a request to talk to Mina. I got a whole lot of hollers and yells in the background before my fiancee got on the phone.

"What?" she snaps at me.

"Walikumassalam Shehzer. Oh, you just survived another five-hour PIA fiasco for me? How sweet of you." I reply sarcastically.

"Ain't nobody got time for dat right now Romeo. The boyses are getting murdered on the pitch!" She breaks off to yell at someone named Misbah.

"I wanted to see you today, can you explain the address to me?...Uh? Hello??" I am puzzled by her intensity for this game, I never pegged her as a fanatic.

"Hey, It's me again." The nameless stranger is back, most likely not of is own free will. He rattles off an address for me that I memorize.

"What's the property called?" I inquire.

"It's My Castle."

"I know it's your castle, but what is it called?" I chuckle back.

"No, you don't get it, it is called MY CASTLE." He barks impatiently before hanging up.

Mina is right. Her relative is crazy. Who names their house stuff like that?

........

I think it is perfectly normal to call this place a castle. It is HUGE.

An extremely well dressed, snobby caretaker escorts me to one of the huge gazebo things where the "party" is happening. I spot a huge projector screen surrounded by Bean Bags and couches; around a dozen of Mina's relatives of various ages are sprawled around the place. Mina herself is looking adorable in a Pakistan team jersey. Her face is war-painted in green, and she is biting her lip in concentration. Nobody is speaking a word, eyes glued to the screen.

"...and, this brings an end to the powerplay for the Indian side, Can the green shirts cover up for the massive fielding mistakes they committed...?" The live commentary is interrupted by a Pepsi commercial, and everyone starts yelling at the top of their voices.

"Why are they letting Umar Akmal do the wicket-keeping? that guy has holes in his hands!!"

"SCREW YOU CORPORATE OVERLORDS!"

"Did you see Afridi's last over? He has got to be the most overrated player of th-"

"Don't you dare say anything bad about Afridi! He is Hot." (This one from the love of my life. Figures.)

"Can someone pray for Kohli please? May he get diarrhea...in like two seconds. Ameen."

"I'm not watching anymore. Every time I watch a Pakistan-India match, we lose. True story...."

I drop down on the grass beside Mina's feet. She looks stunned for a few seconds, before grinning widely at me.

She seems really happy to see me, even though her eyes keep flitting back to the still running commercial break. She introduces me to everyone else around. I'm greeted with enthusiastic, yet distracted, cousins. uncles and friends of friends. The guy from the phone is a lanky teenager named Yasir. He is the designated food and phone guy, apparently, he lost a coin toss.

"Oh my God Shehzer! I thought you were kidding when you said you were coming here!" She munches on some potato chips, offering me the bowl. I grab a couple of barbecue flavored chips from her bowl.

"Well, I kind of had to deliver something to you." I grin back at her, resisting the urge to tug at the errant curls falling over her face.

"Aww, you shouldn't have! we do have TCS, and DHL here you know?" she smirks cheekily before another casting the screen another eye flit.

"Uh, no. The thing is kind of too precious to send by mail." I smirk before producing the tiny wooden carved box I had been carrying around for the past week.

She squeels in horror and curses someone's ancestors to perdition. The game was back on.

Why do I have the worst timing? I groan inwardly. So much for the surprise element.

"I'm sorry, what were you saying?" She asks, eyes still glued to the match. Before I can open my mouth, everyone starts cheering and howling. Mina is jumping up and down on her couch, hugging her cousin in the next chair. "Afridi you absolute beauty!! WHAT A CLEAN BOWLED that was!" she is nearly crying with happiness. I am mesmerized by all this passion. This isn't just a sport, it feels like blood, life, and honor. All for 22 men in track-pants, and a tiny red ball.

Commercial breaks are the best way to have any real conversation. She turns to me with shining eyes. "I love our matches with India! nothing quite like them. Ha Ha, you chose a bad day to meet my family. They are usually not that insane." She gestures at a group of her male cousins dancing to commercial music. Wow.

"Uhh, yeah I realized that, but I couldn't wait to give this to you..." I lightly toss the wooden box once.

"BOY! is that what I think it is?" I whip around to see Kulsoom Nani waddling towards us for a closer look. Mina scowls in her direction.

"Shehzer do you want to go someplace quiet?"

"Oh no you don't! The BOY stays here; right under my nose. Now let's see what he got for your finger. Hmmph, must say the box isn't half bad."

I break out into sweat at the prospect of her beady eyes dissecting the ring.

"Um, this was actually my late Nani's wedding ring. My Nana (grandpa) in Lahore passed it on to me... I get it if you'd rather have a new one, but I kind of had it re-sized, and polished for you..." I'm sort of rambling a little bit from nervousness. What if she doesn't like it?

"Quit your yapping, and show us the goods, BOY!" I feel the light pat of Kulsoom Nani's cane on my back.

I flip open the box to reveal the delicate family heirloom. It is a Gold-diamond encrusted crown-shaped solitaire. I hear collective gasps from the nearby females. Kulsoom Nani is blowing Dua's and "Mashallahs" in our direction.

My eyes are for Mina only. She hasn't uttered a single word, as she stares at the ring. I try to quell my disappointment at her lack of enthusiasm.

I sigh, and begin shutting the box, "I'll get you something new from Tiffany's"

She stops me immediately, "Don't even think about it." Her hands are shaking as she extends her left one towards me. "Put it on me." she whispers, her voice thick with tears. I know that she is thinking about the last time someone put a ring on her finger. My heart swells with pride as I witness her brave attempt to move forward.

Her slim hands look fragile next to mine, and I give her a reassuring smile before sliding the ring on her ring finger. Our audience's cheers quickly turn into howls of horror.

Pakistan lost the match....

...But when I look at Mina's hand; I feel like a winner.

Author's Note:

It takes a great deal of strength to make my team lose a cricket match to India in my book. The things I do for the sake of this Novel!

#Painful

Photo in description: Mina's Ring.

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