Anaisha was going to visit Hasan's home for the first time as their daughter-in-law. She didn't know, why it was an issue and why she was panicking. Normally, she never cared about what people thought of her. But this time, she couldn't pick what to wear. She didn't want to be too flashy nor too underdone. Also, she had mostly sleeveless blouses. It was frustrating. Finally, she picked a pink floral full-sleeved blouse and plain pink saree, that she neatly, draped, and pleated, making sure there was minimum skin showing.

At the exit of the airport, Hasan gave his hand to her. Mindlessly, she handed him, her luggage. He gave her a puzzled look.

"Let's go," Anaisha replied, putting on her aviator sunglasses and walking ahead of him.

"Be careful." Hasan helped Anaisha sit on the man-pulled rickshaw. It was on her insistence; else he was in favor of hiring a taxi. Anaisha adjusted her saree and shifted. Hasan sat beside her, and she was squeezed to the side.

"Are you comfortable?"

She nodded, touching her meenakari, double-layered Jhumkas.

Anaisha felt her heartbeat increase as she walked with Hasan. The road was a little uneven and so, she held him tightly. Few people passed greeting Hasan and passing a look at Anaisha.

"Beta, Hasan." Keshavji's booming voice greeted him. Hasan stiffened. He respected Keshavji a lot, he and his family has done so much for them. But he feared his reaction upon knowing Anaisha was his wife.

The man held his Dhoti and limped towards them. The pestering sprain in his left knee made it difficult for him to walk. But for a man in his eighties, his health was good.

"Namaste, Keshavji." Hasan folded his palms and lowered his head.

"Bless you." Keshavji ran his palm over his head. Then, his gaze traveled to Anaisha. She copied Hasan. He nodded at her.

"Um, Keshavji, she is Anaisha. My—um—wife." He introduced them, crossing his fingers behind his back.

Keshavji took a moment and then smiled, nodding his head. He blessed Anaisha as well and suggested she should visit their place and meet his daughter-in-law. Anaisha agreed.

Hasan pushed the door and stepped into his house. In the courtyard, there was his father, Mahmood Rauf.

"Asalam Aliakum, Abbi."

His father placed the newspaper beside him and smiled brightly at his son. He walked to his son and embraced him. Hasan closed his eyes with a small smile on his face. After they parted Mahmood called out to his family and soon, his wife, Bilal and Zahir also came out into the courtyard. Momina's face turned bitter upon looking at her daughter-in-law.

Anaisha was interested in Zahir's reaction, but strangely, she couldn't decipher his look.

Bilal hurried to Hasan and hugged him, then greeted Anaisha politely. She smiled back, acknowledging him.

Momina walked up to Hasan. She caressed his head, and they shared a small embrace. Before Bilal could begin chatting with him, she interrupted her youngest son and turned her attention to Anaisha.

"You girl, come with me. You two will be staying away until the Walima." She grabbed Anaisha's elbow and began to take her. On her way, she turned and passed a wink at Hasan, who had a disappointed look on his face. 

Hasan wore the beige blazer over his maroon Kurtha and excitedly applied his usual ittar. He was eager for the reception, to see Anaisha. Bilal walked in, just as Hasan had finished applying kohl in his eyes. He turned around and opened his arms,

- "How do I look?" He said with pride.

"Stereotypical." Bilal replied sassily. Hasan glared at him as he wore his beige karakul cap. Then the two brothers walked out of the room.

Hasan was quite bored in the gent's section and was on his toes when he was informed about being transferred to the ladies' section.

Anaisha- He thought happily.

At the stage Anaisha was seated awkwardly in a heavy maroon gharara. The dupatta of which, weighed a ton, according to her. The ladies' section was in the backyard of their house. Hasan walked in, and his gaze fell instantly on his wife. That moment, he noticed her discomfort, and something told him, it wasn't because of the dress. Anaisha shifted a little as he sat beside her.

Cautiously, he leaned a little towards her in pretense of adjusting her elaborate zari work dupatta and whispered, - "All, okay?"

Anaisha pressed her lips and shook her head, - "Period cramp."

"Oh!" He retracted his hand.

Anaisha was grateful as Hasan managed to cut short the ceremony. She ate her dinner and was guided few ladies and Momina to Hasan's room. Momina kept a bitter face as the taunts of her friends echoed in her head.

"Momina, Hasan's first wife and Sehrish both were so good. But why did you get him married to her this time. She is beautiful but look at her color, so blackie."

"Yeah, also she isn't one of us. How will she manage? And kids?"

"Soon she and her family will grab your son. Forget you had a son named Hasan, Momina."

"Sit here." Sakina Phoupo, Hasan's paternal aunt, helped Anaisha climb on the bed and sit neatly. She glanced around the dimly lit room and eyed the glass of milk and few dates placed on the bedside table. After dinner, she wondered who could have these. And everyone left, the first thing she did was getting rid of her dupatta.

The washroom was Indian and so it posed a little difficulty for her. Somehow, Anaisha changed into a thin strapped peach, half lacey flowing gown. After she freshened up, she began waiting for Hasan. It was strange as he was taking a lot of time. Perhaps, the other men must have cornered him. She stretched her arms and cracked her knuckles. Every part felt stiff, and more was the period pain. She had the dates and gulped down the warm milk.

As she settled, Anaisha heard footsteps outside her room. Assuming it to be Hasan, she waited for a moment. After nothing happened, cautiously she climbed down the bed and walked up to the door. There was someone pacing outside. Who could it be? She wondered, clenching on the handles of the double-door.

She opened the door with a jerk and was startled to find Zahir there. He jumped on spot, with his eyes wide. Anaisha glared at him,

- "What are you doing here? Isn't your new wife entertaining you?"

Zahir sighed, - "She is visiting her maternal home." He sounded dull. But before any further confrontation happened, Bilal arrived out nowhere and dragged his elder brother along with him. Anaisha eyed him suspiciously.  

Hasan borrowed his friend Imtiaz's car and drove to the nearest supermarket. Already, he could feel his feet heavy. He gulped, marching towards the section he had never ventured, ever.

There were so many options, but Hasan was completely clueless. He looked around and found a sales lady eyeing him oddly.

"Excuse me." He cleared his throat, - "Can you suggest me one of these." He pointed towards the women's hygiene section. The girl frowned at him.

"Do you use these?"

Hasan shook his head, - "I am shopping for my wife."

The girl's frown turned into awe, - "Okay, does your wife use pads or tampons or cups."

Hasan was numb. He knew about pads but what the hell are tampons and cups? He swallowed hard.

"Pa—Pads." His cheeks flushed. Forget touching these products, he had never even said the names, and would turn away if the advertisement comes on TV. The girl beamed and handed him one pack. He checked the price and was stunned.

"Why is a necessity item so costly?" He spoke to himself.

"EEEEE!" The girl shrieked, taking him by surprise.

"Who is the lucky woman who has married you, sir?"

"Huh!"

"Nothing." The girl blushed and scooted away. Hasan shrugged and picked up few more packets. He also got newspaper for disposing them off. For some reason, something made him feel super-awkward. Also, wondered what was so awkward about them anyway?

Anaisha's sleep was disturbed by the flimsy wooden door creaking open. She sat up on the bed and blinked rapidly. With the travel and the ceremony, she was very tired and had instantly fallen asleep. Hasan walked in with a shopping bag in his hand.

"Hey,"- She removed the duvet and was about to step down when Hasan gestured her to keep sitting. Anaisha shifted, letting him sit beside her.

"Where have you been? You didn't even change." She helped him out of his coat.

"I had gone out for you." Hasan dug his hand into the bag and took out the packets.

"I thought you might not be having these. So, I got these for you." He forwarded it to her.

Anaisha looked at him with a look of surprise and admiration. He was so kind and caring.

"Thanks, you shouldn't have."

Hasan smiled, - "Come on, it is nothing."- He got up and began to unbutton his Kurtha as he walked towards the cupboard, - "As your husband, it is my duty to take care of you." He said mindlessly.

Anaisha's smile faded. "Oh! So, you got these because it was your husband duty, and I thought—"

Hasan paused, taking out his night Kurtha. He turned around and noticed her fallen face.

"No, no!"- He sat beside her. He held her shoulder, but Anaisha shrugged his hand away.

She turned to look at him, - "You are doing all this for me only because you think it is your duty to keep me happy. But was that the case with Sanam?"- Hasan's expressions changed, - "Also, in case we divorce, or something happens to me. You will marry for the third time and treat that wife same as you are doing to me."- She looked away, - "And here I thought I was special."

Hasan took a moment before speaking, Anaisha kept her gaze averted from him, - "Anaisha. You are special. If you hadn't been, why would I have wanted our marriage to be forever. And why are you thinking of divorce and death."
Anaisha glared at him, - "But you don't love me."

He gulped, - "Falling in love doesn't happen instantly. I definitely like you, and I am attracted you. But you shouldn't have brought Sanam into all this. She is no more; she can never come between us."

Anaisha looked away and sighed, - "My head is spinning, I am going to sleep. And thanks again for this." She shifted, laying on her side. Hasan doesn't say anything. Perhaps, because of her periods she was having mood swings. Silently, he changed into his night Kurtha and pants, then he laid beside her. He leaned his head against the bedpost and kept admiring her. Even though, she was turned the other side. Some time, later she turned to her back, and he shifted, looking away. If she finds out he was creepily staring at her the whole night, it would be embarrassing.

Hasan got up and walked to his cupboard. He sat down, searching through the last section of his closet. There was a card box with his old stuffs. Before Anaisha was to be shifted here, he cleaned his place and made sure that everything that was related to Sanam be temporarily, shifted to Bilal's room. He didn't want to upset Anaisha because of his past.

As Hasan looked through his belongings, he found few cassettes and CDs. He recollected his and Anaisha's shared interest in music. He didn't have much classical music, but he had few ghazals and vintage Bollywood songs. Looking through them, his lips curved into a smile.

How was the Chapter, my lovelies? Isn't Hasan the dream husband *_* And whats up with Zahir? What does he want with Anaisha? What are his intension? I wonder...

Please, guys, drop your thoughts in the comments and Stay Tuned for the next update *Lots of Love* *Hugs and Kisses*