Umar was riding the bike, and Mawra was sitting behind him.
Mawra spread her arms wide, waving them in the breeze. She felt as though she were free from everything in the world.
Her heart and mind were completely at peace, and she was happy with the decision she had made.
They pulled up outside a restaurant.
"Let's eat something," Umar said.
"Yes, let's go," she replied.
They went inside, sat at a table, and waited for the waiter.
"What will you have?" Umar asked.
"Whatever you're having," Mawra answered.
The waiter arrived and asked for their order.
"One chicken biryani with raita and salad," Umar said, then turned to Mawra. "Think about it again, what do you want to eat?"
"Just get me a biryani as well," she said.
The biryani arrived shortly, and they both began to eat with great relish.
"You know, biryani is my absolute favorite food," Umar said. "No matter how much there is, I can always finish it."
Mawra simply smiled at his words.
"Was there ever anyone else in your life before this?" Mawra asked.
"No, never," Umar replied. "You were the first girl I looked at, and you immediately found a place in my heart."
"What was it about me that you liked so much? I can tell of there is one thing."
Mawra just smiled again..
After leaving the restaurant, they began wandering on the bike again. As they passed through the bazaar, Umar suddenly stopped the bike and walked toward a nearby shop.
A few moments later, he returned with two flower garlands (gajras) in his hand.
Umar placed the garlands on Mawra's wrists with his own hands.
Mawra was overjoyed.
Next, they stopped at a street food stall.
"Brother, two plates of Chana Chaat, please," Umar ordered.
They enjoyed the snack together. This time, Mawra spoke up: "Chana Chaat is my favorite thing in the world."
Then, Mawra asked quietly, "Umar, we are here right now, but what have you thought about the future? What are we going to do?"
"Look, Mawra," Umar replied, "we will think about the future later. For now, just live this moment of freedom."
Mawra remained silent, but she felt satisfied.
They went to a park next. After parking the bike to the side, they began to walk together.
"Umar, this is the first time in my life I've come out like this with someone," Mawra said. "For the first time, I am seeing the world in a completely different way. My heart, my mind, and my soul—everything feels free. Today, I am finally understanding the true meaning of living life."
Umar simply listened and smiled. They continued to walk together, talking about many things.
Finally, as the college day ended, Umar dropped Mawra near the bus. She boarded her bus and headed home.
Mawra was incredibly happy. Following their first outing, she went out with Umar a couple more times to explore the city and share meals together.
However, trouble began when a man from their village spotted Mawra with Umar and reported it to her father.
Fortunately, when Mawra's father heard this, he refused to believe it.
He dismissed the man, saying, "You must be mistaken; that cannot be true." When Mawra found out about this close call, she was gripped by a sudden fear.
One night, while Mawra was talking to Umar on her phone, he suggested, "Let's meet tomorrow."
But this time, Mawra refused.
"No, Umar, it's too difficult for me now," she pleaded.
"Everyone knows my father. If someone sees us again... someone has already tried to tell him once."
"Mawra, don't worry. No one will find out," Umar insisted. "My heart is restless; I haven't seen you in so many days. I just need to see you and be with you. Please, come tomorrow."
After thinking for a moment, Mawra softly agreed, "Alright, fine."
They met again in the same park.
"Don't you miss me?" she asked, lifting her head to look at the man sitting before her. Her eyes were moist with tears, and her face was clouded with sadness.
"I do miss you, so much," he replied. "That is why I am sitting here with you now."
"Umar, how long can this go on? How long will we keep meeting like this?" Mawra asked desperately. "I'm scared now. I think we should tell everyone the truth."
"Have you gone mad, Mawra?" he snapped back quickly. "Do you think it will be that easy?"
Mawra sat beside him, dressed in a pink frock with a white shalwar and a silk dupatta. A pendant hung around her neck, and though her dupatta was draped over her head, strands of her hair strayed across her face. Umar was dressed in a white shalwar kameez, with disheveled hair and bloodshot eyes.
There they sat, side by side—two people ready to die for one another, yet at that moment, they couldn't even meet each other's gaze.
"Umar, I'm exhausted by all of this," Mawra said. "If my family finds out through someone else, it will only make things harder."
Umar paused for a moment before speaking. "We will tell them soon. Look, Mawra, don't be distressed. I am with you. We will fix everything very soon."
When Mawra arrived home, she was met by her father and brother standing in her path.
"Where are you coming from?" her father asked angrily.
"What kind of question is that, Dad? You know I'm coming from college," Mawra replied with feigned confidence.
"Then why did a friend of mine tell me he saw you wandering around the city with a boy today?" her father demanded.
"Tell us the truth, Mawra. What is going on?" her brother added sharply.
"I don't know what you are talking about," Mawra insisted. "You saw me leave for college, and I've just returned."
Her father looked at her sternly. "Listen, Mawra. I have a lot of trust in you. Please, do not break that trust... otherwise, the consequences will be terrible."
Mawra walked silently to her room. She didn't let them see it, but inside, she was trembling with fear.
Look Umar, my family has become suspicious of me. I don't know what to do anymore," Mawra said, her voice trembling with fear.
"Don't worry. I will send my parents to your house very soon to talk about our marriage proposal," Umar replied, trying to reassure her.
"But Umar, my marriage is already fixed elsewhere. What will happen?" Mawra asked anxiously.
"Mawra, we have to do something now. Just don't be upset; I will fix everything," Umar promised.
After two days, things seemed to return to normal. The two of them went back to talking for hours on the phone. Once again, they planned to meet up.
Mawra got off the bus and hopped onto Umar's bike. Like always, they spent the day wandering around.
However, when it was time for her to head home and Mawra stepped off the bike, she looked across the road and saw her brother and father standing there.
The ground slipped from beneath Mawra's feet. She began to shake with terror.
"I'm coming with you," Umar said quickly.
"No Umar, for God's sake, leave this place right now!" Mawra pleaded.
"But Mawra—"
"Umar, I will handle it. Please, just go. I beg you!"
They looked at each other with eyes full of helplessness. Mawra crossed the road and stammered, "Father, I..."
Before she could say another word, a forceful slap landed on her face. Silence fell over everything. Passersby stopped to stare.
"Just get home, then I'll deal with you," Ali said through gritted teeth.
Ali grabbed Mawra's hand tightly and shoved her into the car.
"Is this how you repay my trust and faith? I told you never to break my trust, but you did exactly that!" her father shouted.
Mawra stood before him, clutching her mother's hand. Her brother, Ali, stood beside their father.
"Who is that boy? Tell me! Where does he live?" Ali demanded.
"How could you even think of doing this?
You are already engaged to Dawar, and yet you behave like this!" her father added.
"Father, I am engaged, not married. And I never want to marry Dawar anyway!" Mawra said, finding a spark of courage.
"What did you say? Have you become so insolent that you talk back to your father?"
"I will break your jaw if another word comes out of your mouth!" Ali yelled in rage.
"Tomorrow, we are calling Dawar's parents to the house to fix the wedding date," her father declared firmly.
Tears streamed down Mawra's face. "Dad, I don't want to marry Dawar. I never liked him."
"No one asked for your preference! Shut up and go to your room," Ali snapped.
As Mawra walked toward her room in a fit of anger, she cried out, "I won't marry him, no matter what happens! It's my life, and I will live it my way!"
As soon as Mawra entered her room, she collapsed onto the bed and began to sob uncontrollably. Late that night, her mother came into the room.
"Look Mawra, whatever your father wants will happen, whether you like it or not," her mother said sternly. "
It is better to stop being stubborn and marry Dawar. Forget that boy. Forget that he ever existed in your life."
"It's easy for you to say, Mother, but have you ever asked my heart how it feels?"
Mawra replied. "How can I just forget him? I would rather die than marry anyone else!"
"Quiet! Your father might hear you," her mother whispered harshly. "Forget him.
Clear your mind of his thoughts; it is for your own good." With those words, her mother left the room.
The next morning, her father gave his orders. "Mawra is not going to college from today. I am talking to Dawar's parents, and we must prepare for the wedding as quickly as possible."
"But..." her mother started to say.
"No 'buts'! I have said it. Arrange this marriage immediately."
When Mawra found out, her heart shattered. She wondered to herself, What is my mistake? Is it just wanting to marry the person I love?
Days passed. Mawra stopped eating and drinking. She stayed locked in her room all day, silent, lost in her thoughts, and constantly crying.
Eventually, the day came when her mother informed her, "Be ready tomorrow morning. Dawar's parents are coming to fix the wedding date."
"Mother, I've said it before and I'm saying it again—I will not marry him!" Mawra screamed.
"Your opinion doesn't change anything," her mother replied coldly and walked out.
The next morning, her mother brought a green suit to the room. "Wear this and get ready. They will be here any moment. I don't want to have to tell you again."
Against her will, Mawra had to put on the suit. She sat silently in her room, her vision blurred by tears.
"Oh wow, my daughter looks so beautiful!" her mother exclaimed upon seeing her.
"What kind of mother are you?" Mawra wept.
"Can't you see your daughter's happiness?
How can you commit such a cruelty against me? You have no right to do this to me!"
"Look, daughter, whatever I am doing is for your own benefit. You will understand this soon enough," her mother replied calmly.
Dawar arrived with his parents and brother. As they sat at the table, her mother called out, "Mawra, bring the tea."
Mawra walked out with the tray, her steps trembling. She fought to hide the tears in her eyes.
"Oh, she looks lovely!" Dawar's mother praised. Dawar sat to one side, his eyes fixed on Mawra. After some discussion, it was decided: the wedding would take place in one week.
Mawra felt like her heart was going to burst. Everything around her felt dark and hopeless. She didn't know what to do. While the rest of the family got busy with wedding preparations, Mawra remained trapped in her thoughts.
Finally, she secretly took her mother's phone and called Umar.
A voice answered from the other side, "Hello?"
"Umar, it's me," Mawra said. "My wedding is in three days. You said you would never leave me... Umar, do something! I can't marry him!"
"Mawra, listen to me," Umar replied. "I am with you. I will send my parents to your house tomorrow. Let's try to talk to them one last time. Try to make your mother understand—what is the harm in just talking once?"
The next day, the doorbell rang.
Mawra's father opened the door to find a man and a woman standing there.
"I'm sure you recognize me, Aslam," Mr. Daim said. "Look, we want to put the enmity of our past behind us and talk to you. Aren't you going to ask us to come inside?"
Mawra's father looked at them with pure astonishment. After a moment, he spoke. "Come in... come inside."
Once settled, Mr. Daim began, "Look, Aslam, my younger son is in love with your daughter. I have come here today to ask for your daughter's hand in marriage for him.
Why should the children suffer because of the grudge between us?"
When Mawra's father heard this, his eyes turned red with fury. "What did you say? So, he is your son?"
"Leave this house this instant before I do something I regret!" Mawra's father shouted in a rage. "Get out of my house!"
Look, Aslam, why are we destroying the lives of our children because of our own enmity?" Mr. Daim pleaded. "I ask for your forgiveness for everything that happened in the past."
"I don't want your forgiveness!" Aslam shouted back. "And mark my words—if your son ever crosses my path again, it will be his last day. Remember that. Now, get out of here!"