MAKING A SNAP CHOICE
It was about two o'clock at night, and the darkness pervaded the entire space, making it difficult for anybody to see far away. There was eerie quiet and a chill in the air that could send shivers down anyone's spine. They were both in their wedding dresses, standing next to their car, facing each other, alone on the highway. Her hair was blowing in the breeze, and her minimal diamond jewelry and beige embroidered lehnga gown were so sparkling and brilliant that they seemed to be shining far from the road and were the sole light source in the pitch-black area. The term that best describes their relationship would be tension. The face of one was held high devoid of feeling, while the other had a remorseful look, having no idea how to mend the thing he had broken. He looked into her eyes, apologizing and hoping she would know how to make this better.
" I need your permission to take advantage of you, Mr. Aiden”, It was the first time, he was watching her speak, but what he heard, was not what he had assumed she had spoken. He hadn't been bracing himself to be questioned about it. What emotion was in her eyes? Anger, no, despair, no—it was the emotion a queen has when she gives an order, knowing that it will be accepted and that the individual will comply. He knew he had to do it; he had no choice but to be used. Did he have the option to refuse? No, he didn't.
.....................
The prize presentation had not yet begun. Even if the noise was loud enough to impede hearing, it cannot be classified as cacophony. Despite the large hall, it appeared as though individuals were being imprisoned in a cramped space. Men in grey and white tweed suits and women in sea green dresses engaged in a furious debate on who would receive this year's The Most Influential Person. During his three years of schooling, the last master's degree student who inspired the majority of classmates and teachers with his or her research and brilliance was granted this honor.
“It will b Sir Aiden, this year” with a shoulder shrug, Amirah said nonchalantly.
She gave her a quick glance before dozing off on her phone once again and asking with little interest in the response. “And how do you know?”
“Just a wild a guess... since we all think he's amazing, and...” she took a moment to look at her with amusement and add “even you also admire him”
Her finger abruptly stopped scrolling. "Please, make the correction; I don't admire him; I just find him sharpest of us all.” Her voice had a tone of clearing as she spoke.
“Yup yup, I forgot that Ms. The Legendary Hessah Aliyan has no one to look up to...” Her eyes rolled in complete disappointment.
“My beloved pupil, their parents, and the instructor, may have I your attention please!” The formerly packed audience fell into a solemn quiet as soon as this statement was delivered. He was Professor Zaviyar as the host. He had lengthy beard with white hair, and he was in his fifties. Everyone’s favorite. “You are all cordially welcomed here,” He smiled softly before adding “and congrats, you all are graduated one now.”
"Let's first present your graduation certificates to everyone and then announce the winner of the annual title." It's Miss Khadija, a 35-year-old lecturer who is the kindest but most domineering.
Students received their awards one by one, creating a special moment as they picked up their certificates.
After a certain number of individuals had taken their turn, Miss Khadija spoke in a proud tone. “Now please make a round of applause for highest scorer in biochemistry and immunology, Ms. Hessah Aliyan”
As she passed through the alley, she arrived at the stage to the cheers and smolders of the audience.
“You slay gal...” With both hands encircling her lips, Amirah screamed, her voice drowning out all the others.
Despite being the finest student of all of them, Amirah never feels envious of her accomplishments or her superior knowledge.
Despite having quite distinct personalities, they were cousins but more like sisters.
Hessah gave her a charming eye-smile in return.
.........................
As he read the newspaper, Hamid Sahab could feel his wife's eyes on him all the time. He was burrowing his face deeper into the page, careful not to meet her sharp eyes. However, he didn't think it was conceivable for what she was starring for to go unanswered.
“All right! Alright Spit out the question you've been dying to ask.?”
“Spit? Asking? His wife, Sharzeena, halted cutting vegetables in the middle and turned to face her husband in utter shock. “For the past two months, you have been disobeying my instructions to persuade your son to get married.”
“Begum, the reason I am not persuading him is that: He is neither too young to be told to do anything nor too old to marry in haste and anxiety.” Repetition of the same conversation wore him out, so he responded to persuade her this time.
“He is currently 25 years old. Could you kindly tell me your age at marriage?” She used a mocking tone as she talked and added “And because Ammi has been concerned about him due to her sickness, it's not like I'm urging him to get married and settle, just get nikahified.”
“Although I understand your mother's worries, I believe they are unnecessary. Insha'Allah, she will live a long life and see her grandkids.” He let out a sigh, gripped her hand tenderly between his two, and continued speaking. “It's not that I don't want to see children get married soon; I simply can't make them do it since marriage is something that should only be done when someone feels compelled to do so and only when they want to; it's entirely a matter of personal preference.”
“But Hamid, what if Am...mi”
“Believe me, everything will work out if you believe Allah. Diseases are prevalent at this age, and we are taking care of her.” He patted her hand lightly and murmured “And then, I'll ask him again if he agrees, then, okay?”
“Okay” She looked into her husband's eye and smiled.
“Beautiful Lady and may be the gentleman, what are y....” He yelled in sheer delight as he walked into the sitting room holding the trophy, but he stopped when he saw them seated closely together, hand in hand. With a slight head twist, he inquired in a humorous manner.
“Doing romance?” He flashed a cheeky smile, “Hmm! I think I disturbed you, sorry! Carry-on”
“Yes, you did my son”
The comments made by her husband made Sharzeena Begum's already scarlet cheeks even redder. She closed her eyes. “Astaghfirullah, before spitting, neither of you ever thinks.”
“Astaghfirullah? For doing romance? If my wife had been as gorgeous as you, I would have been spending time in love just as much as you are.” He winked at her mother smilingly.
“So, my son, why don't you get yourself a wife as gorgeous as your mother?” Hamid Sahab spoke in a tone that was both scornful and persuasive.
“Yes, that's what I want to say: I've found my girl. Please seek her parents for their consent to marry her.”
“What” They glanced at one another before turning to face their son. Unbelievably, the man who had been refusing marriage for a year until only a few hours before, had met his soulmate.
