This post starts from .My Cinderella – 1/2. Thanks.
Nuzhat gave the ring to her mother and then to her maid-child but it won’t fit any finger.
On the Eid morning, I wrote notes on the cards with the help of my jolly uncle and I put that I LOVE YOU card behind Saima’s Happy Eid card.
In case it was a trap, I could always say it was a mistake and avoid a free-yet-well-deserved slap.
But Saima noticed that second card in the envelop, nodded with her head and smiled.
The Sanhedrin informed Uncle Irshad of his plans going off-track because of Saima’s successful luring plans of his gullible nephew.
He told me he had to go to Karachi for some urgent business and he asked me to wait for him.
As soon as he left, his wife asked me to visit Murree and spend some nights with the girls!
Dating and pre-marital sex is considered a taboo and a sin in Pakistan.
I noticed Saima wasn’t going… Safia and Memona were!
Even Aunt Qudsia was also going.
That reeked of a conspiracy.
I told Saima I wasn’t going to spend any nights with no girls and was going to return before nightfall as a proof.
She kept her eerie silence and seemed not to give a damn.
I believe everybody had known about my night-time ejaculation because I had not had an opportunity to masturbate since three days.
They thought I was a sex monster. Am I?
Right before reaching Murree, Memona touched me with her leg.
She was sitting beside me and thought it nice to tell me she was on fire. I immediately pulled my leg away because I thought she was 17 and a minor. Besides, hot damsels scare me.
We went downhill on a jogging track and reached the bottom after an hour, during which I took some snaps of the girls and we plucked some flowers, too.
As we reached the end of the track, Memona suggested going back uphill.
I said “It’ll take us more than an hour to go back uphill and it’s getting late.”
“No, it won’t take even half an hour”, she corrected.
“Oh, that! Yes, that won’t take that long, will it?” “But why Saima was silent & unhappy?” I pondered in my heart.
I pulled out my damn ring and gave it to Safia. It won’t fit any of her many fingers.
Then Memona grabbed that ring and tried it on her slim fingers but it fit none. Her fingers were either a little too slim or a little too thick for my ring.
Saima had confused me by her total lack of interest in my trip to Murree.
But that cheap ring saved the confusing relationship that was developing and undoing continuously.
I told Memona about the beasts and all the creeping things that caeepeth after dark in the jungle.
“Why not take a ride uphill, eat something delicious and book a room? Aunt must be waiting,” I suggested.
Upon our arrival to Murree, we all had went to toilet and emptied our bellies, just as in a good romantic Hollywood movie.
Disgusting but a funny thing to do at a date, nevertheless.
Now our bellies were empty. Empty and hungry.
The girls agreed with excitement.
We gulped down two large bowels of Balti Murgh, a delicious chicken curry dish.
But Aunt Qudsia barked at the idea of spending a night in expensive hotels of tourists’ Murree!
That unromantic Aunt… saved my relationship!
After everybody failed to fit the ring on any finger of theirs, Saima put it on her wedding finger and… it fit like a glove!
She smiled while we all looked in awe & shock.
I thought it didn’t fit any finger because it was a cheap ring. I was blaming myself.
Shocking ways of my ex-Father!
My uncle didn’t relent, however. He put a condition of bringing at least two of my brothers & sisters to the wedding party — an impossible condition, he knew.
He later added, “Since your brothers & sisters visit Pakistan in July-August, let the wedding be at that time.”
He’s a good uncle and thought he’d give me some time for my foolish delirium to subside.
Nobody from my side or her side (or any other side) wanted that marriage to take place, each for his own good reasons.
Even I didn’t want it.
Only Saima and her mother did and… of course, God did.
During our anxious waiting period till dreadful July-August, a song came out by Sajjad Ali titled… Cinderella.
Even its lyrics seemed to mock our anxiety during that waiting period and to pacify us.
Pakistanis do not understand boring Hollywood films. They like Bollywood films because they say it through a song. So God gave us a song to understand.
“Even a cheap engagement ring would have served as a proof of your choice,” Saima chastised me after our successful marriage!
What did my ex-Father miss when He created women?
He did miss something, didn’t He?
This story continues .here.