The weather unfolded its splendor today in Mirpurkhas, nestled within the province of Sindh. This city, the 16th largest in Sindh with a population of 233,916, was graced with exceptional beauty. Rain had delicately graced the city, leaving the roads adorned with glistening wetness. The fragrance of petrichor gracefully dominated the air, creating an atmosphere so tranquil that inhaling it felt like sipping serenity.

In one of the most affluent corners of Mirpurkhas, where the Abbasi residence commanded its presence, a young woman paced within the confines of her home's baramda. Eventually, she settled down with a huff, tapping her khussa-clad feet on the floor, her lips forming a subtle pout. Her parents were expected to return after a week spent with her phuppo, a hiatus that coincided with her 10th board exams.

An hour had passed since her mother's call, signaling their imminent arrival. Yet, their home remained void of their presence. Anxiously glancing at the main door, she found herself on the brink of worry. Silently, she uttered prayers for her parents' safety and swift return. Seated on the diwan, she anxiously awaited their arrival, with the door becoming a focal point of her increasing apprehension.

Suddenly, a knock echoed through the dwelling, jolting her from her thoughts. With a smile, she approached the door, anticipating her parents' return. However, she was met with unfamiliar faces as strangers entered her home, bearing a disconcerting cargo. "Riaz Ali Abbasi ka ghar hai na?" inquired one of the men. She merely nodded, perplexed by their unexpected visit.

(This is Riaz Ali Abbasi's home?)

Without awaiting permission, they boldly infiltrated her home, leaving her astonished by their audacity. Observing them carrying two white, body bag-like parcels, her breath hitched. Placing these ominous packages in the living room intensified her anxiety.

"Ye kya kar rahe hain ap log?" All the while, the household servants had joined her in the living room. "Mere bache... Hum highway par they... Jab bhot bura... accident hua..." The man began sharing the grim details with considerable difficulty.

(What are you all doing?)
(Kid, we were on the highway...when there was a tragic accident)

"Is se hamare kya wasta hai uncle?" Rubaab queried, noticing one of the white bags on the floor. "Ye tumhare baba hain shayad bacha." With a few minutes of contemplation, she sat beside the white bag. Anxiety, thumping hearts, and continuous prayers consumed her; with trembling hands, she opened one of the bags, only for a heart-wrenching scream to escape her lips. She crumpled to the floor, clutching the lifeless hand of Riaz Abbasi.

(What do we have to do with this uncle?)
(That man...is your father we guess)

The maids opened the other bag, and Rubaab moved toward it, now cradling her mother's face in her hands. "A-ammi... a-ammi" she sobbed, pleading for her parents to wake up. Could her parents truly have departed so abruptly? Moments ago, they were fine! She had conversed with them! She had teased them, for Allah's sake!

(M-mama...pa-papa please wake up)

Beside her parents, she continued to cry, her world reduced to the sorrowful scene before her. No one but these two people mattered to her. Her chachu and chachi were vixenish and avaricious figures, unlikely to take her in. Even if they did, they'd be devilish guardians. Her innocent mind harbored an unfavorable image of these relatives, etched by their manipulative influence. She was but a girl molded by their designs, unable to comprehend without their guidance.

Suddenly, recollections of the people her parents had visited flashed in her mind. Trembling, she rose from her position, holding onto the Diwan. Heading toward the telephone, she dialed the number, attempting to steady her breath amid the sobs, which were now audible to anyone on the line.

In another setting, Haseena Karim Shah was with her family in the living room, engrossed in conversation with her devraniyan. A servant rushed toward them, bearing news of an incoming call from her bhateeji. She took the phone, greeted her Dil ka tukra, only to be shaken by the sound of Rubaab's voice.

Her grip tightened on the phone.
"Rubaab bache... Meri jaan kya hua h apko? Sab kheriyat to hai na?" but she could only hear Rubaab's crying!
"P-phuppoo.. a-ammi a-abbu...." Rubaab tried forming the sentence, but she failed miserably!

(Rubaab baby....my love what happened? Is everything okay?)
(A-aunt...mama papa)

"Kya hua hai ammi abbu ko meri jaan... Batao phuppo ko... Chalo pehle rona kam karo... Shabash meri jaan!"

(What happened with mama papa my love? Tell your aunt....come on stop crying....good my love)

"A-ammi a-abbu k-ka a-accident h-hogaya..." Haseena's grip on the phone now loosened, holding her chest she tried to rebalance herself. Karim Shah, who was coming to ask her something, saw his wife's condition and rushed toward her.

(Mama baba got into an accident)

"Kya hua hai begum?" Haseena Begum looked at her husband. "Mera bhai," before breaking down. How can such a big trouble fall upon her brother? The brother who had just left some hours ago?

(What happened wife?)
(My brother....)
__________

Rubaab lay beside the janaza of her parents, feeling the gentle caress of someone through her hair. As she opened her sore eyes, her phuppo sat beside her, tears cascading down. The dam within Rubaab broke, and she sat up abruptly. It was a profound struggle to control her emotions, to confront the harsh reality that her parents were no more, leaving her alone in this vast and unforgiving world. In the presence of her phuppo, a fleeting sense of peace enveloped her, but the question lingered - for how long?

"Phuppo," she whispered, embracing her, and both were engulfed in tears while Karim Shah prepared for the burial. It marked one of the most poignant moments for Rubaab and Haseena; witnessing loved ones depart is an experience fraught with heartache. After the burial, they found themselves in Rubaab's room, where Chachu Akram Abbasi entered with his wife, Ayesha Abbasi. The mere presence of these two individuals made Rubaab sit up alertly.

"Kya hua hai bhai?" Haseena Begum inquired as Akram sighed and placed a paper in her hand. She read it, slamming it on the bed. "Aisa nahi hoga. Ye bat jaan len ap!" Akram glanced at his wife, who was already simmering with anger. "Kya bat kardi humne aisi haseena? Hamari bachi hai! Hamare sath rahe gi!" Ayesha erupted. They had never been fond of Rubaab's mother, who stood apart from them in every sense. She had a husband who cherished and loved her as if he couldn't breathe without her. The jealousy and joy of having Rubaab's parents no more were evident. Rubaab was Riaz's only child, and she was their ticket to wealth.

(Yes brother?)
(Nothing like this will happen!)
(What we said, even Haseena? She is our child; she will live with us!)

"Rubaab bache, jao jakar apne phuppa ko dekhna kahan hai. Or kaho phuppo bula rahi hai." Rubaab rose and left the room, feeling something unsettling falling upon her. It wouldn't be good. "Janti hun apki niyat ko mai bhai!" Akram sat near her. "Arey, aisa nahi hai. Hum to apni bachi ka khayal rakh rahe hain. Uska hamare ilawa hai hi kaun?" Manipulation! A trick they knew all too well. A trick that was their only means to make Rubaab theirs!

(Rubaab child, go look for your uncle...and tell him that aunt is asking for him!)
(I know very well about your intentions!)
(Arey there's nothing like this! She is our child, and we want to take care of her!)

"Mai hun uske liye!" Just as Karim Shah entered the room, Haseena Begum handed him the paper. "Mere bete ki biwi banegi Rubaab!" It was sudden, and she hadn't thought about it. But, currently, to save Rubaab, there was nothing else she could do. Karim Shah glanced at his wife before nodding, trusting that his wife's decision would be best. After all, he was a simp too!

(I am here for her!)
(She will be the wife of my son!)

"Arey, aise kaise? Ap logon ka koi haq nahi hai Rubaab par! Hum Aapke upper court case karwa sakte hain! Nahi le jasakte ap Rubaab ko!" Karim Shah let out a sarcastic chuckle and nodded. These people were really unaware of the name he had created in Pakistan, now being used overseas by his sons!

(Oh how can it be? You guys don't have any right on Rubaab! We will take you to court! You can't take Rubaab from us!)

"Thik hai; karenge court case! Dekhta hun kon tikta hai mere samne!" A threat! Because he knew no one could actually stand in front of him. Ayesha gulped before grabbing her husband's hand and dashing out of the room. "Maine sach kaha tha Karim Sahab. Meri hamesha se khwahish thi k meri bahu bane meri Rubaab." She had always loved Rubaab like her own. If keeping Rubaab meant through any of her sons, she would agree at any cost. Karim Shah nodded. "Kiske liye?" They had two sons! Of course, she would be for one of them. But who? "Mere Arsalan ke liye! Woh bada hai!" Karim nodded; of course, Arsalan! Farhan was a nut, hard to crack, anyway! "Jaldi karni hogi shadi phir, According to Islam and law, Rubaab belongs to them!" He informed her!

(Okay, do the court case! Let's see who will stay in front of me!)
(I am saying it Karim Sahab, I always had this wish that Rubaab will be my daughter-in-law!)
(For who?)
(For my Arsalan, he is older!)
(We will have to hurry up!)

"Hum baat karenge apne bete se ghar jakar. Mai Rubaab ko keh deta hun wo apna saman pack kare. Hamare sath jaegi woh."

(I will talk to my son soon!....I will ask Rubaab to pack; she is coming with us.)

And so, the journey toward her new life, her new home, the new chapter of Rubaab started. She sat in the back of the car, wondering if it would be okay. Would she be okay? Would she be happy? She was sure that nothing and no one could predict the future. Fear lingered, but in her heart, a bubble of anticipation for a new life held firm.