If he was Ranjha then she was his mother. She had given birth to him and knew how to make him obey.
‘Well, you are going to marry her. She is innocent in all this, you created this mess for her, not a toy you could play with and leave. No son of mine does that and I will see to it!
She said in a low growling tone and dialed the phone number in front of him.
‘Hello, we are coming for Heer, Miriam. What do you think about next month?’
Heer’s mother did not expect to hear this and became speechless. The only word she could utter in response,
“This is good news I am giving you and you, are floundering for words.” She said laughing at her friend.
“He is my son. What more do you have to think, we are coming to bring our daughter home where she now belongs. you just get ready for her departure, for-ever.”
Ranjha was standing there with fists clenched and, glaring at the sky. Because he could not glare at his mother.
It was his life and, he did not want to marry Heer anymore. Why were they not understanding this simple fact?
Miriam was crying with happiness and utter amazement over the unexpected news. Tears were flowing down her cheeks on their own volition and Heer, she was standing outside the room with red cheeks and listened to the one-sided conversation. Stars were twinkling in her eyes, hope shone in brown orbs and, love somersaulted, tossed and twitched like waves of a deep ocean where a storm was brewing, in an urgency to meet the loved one.
“Okay, I will tell her father and call you back. May Allah give you paradise for giving me this good news, my dear.” Miriam put down the receiver back in its cradle and called Heer.
“Heer, come here my heart!”
Heer who had run away on silent toes to avoid being caught eavesdropping came running back.
Heer said standing outside the door of her parents’ room, trying to hide that she knew the reason of this summon just now and, it was not an easy a task. Her heart was beating like a drum on the highest note and her feet could not stay in one place like her soul was dancing on the tune of love far away on the peak of a mountain as a saint lost in his worship.
She had waited for this moment, imagined herself wearing the bridal dress prepared with her own hands. Love had sewn every dream in each stitch, bead and sequin with utmost care in her dress.
Even though marriages happen, unlike those she was the desire of her Ranjha’s heart, the prayer and wish of his soul, her beloved. This awareness was intoxicating like alcohol flowing in her blood, making her drunk on the elation of being wanted.
“Come in, Heer.”
Heer crossed the boundary and entered the room.
“They are coming, my child.”
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