Another Forever

3 9 | i n - l a w s

• f a a r i s •

"So soft." I mumbled to myself in sleep as I snuggled deeper into Noor. My hard body was pressed into her feminine one. She was warm, soft and.... A little too soft?

The grogginess from the sleep finally started to disappear and I realized I was cuddling with a pillow. I cursed under my breath and threw it away in despair.

"You're up." I heard Noor's voice. She was walking out of the bathroom, her hair wrapped up in a towel.

"Hmm." I said as I watched her walk over to the dressing table. She took off the towel and dried her hair in a sultry manner. Okay, maybe she did it normally and it was I who was being a hormonal mess right now.

She was wearing a plain white Shalwar kameez right now, the kameez hugging her curves at all the right places. After brushing her hair and applying some color to her cheeks and lips, she draped a colorful dopatta over her right shoulder.

"Stop staring and go change. Papa was asking about you when I went outside." Noor said to me.

Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I rubbed my sleepy eyes and headed to the bathroom. By the time I returned, Noor had already left. I took my time to get ready and by the time I walked outside, it was 9 o' clock.

As soon as I walked into the living room, I was engulfed by Noor's Dad who was like a cat impatiently waiting for the mouse. "Where are we going?" I asked while I was being dragged to outside.

"Market. Just to buy Naan." He replied. "Like real men."

"What does that even mean?" I mumbled under my breath in confusion. "Wait, are we going on this?" I stared at the motorbike in horror. He sat down in the front and waited for me to hop in the back.

"Obviously. You foreigners are too dependent on cars." He replied.

I kept standing there waiting for him to tell me that it was all a joke. But apparently, he was serious. Sighing, I ditched whatever dignity I had and hopped behind him.

"Hold on to me." He said and revved the bike. If embarrassment hadn't killed me, the fear would have. This was my first time sitting on a bike and never in my wildest dreams had I thought my first time would include Uncle Amjad, or Papa as he had asked me to call him.

The whole time we were on bike, I kept saying my last wishes in case this was my last day on Earth. Thankfully, it was a small ride and soon, we were in a bazaar. People around us were looking at me in a strange manner and I realized an Armani shirt wasn't the right outfit for this occasion.

I followed Uncle into a small shop where a man was making Naan. The intense smoke from the stove oven filled my throat and I coughed.

"Meet my son-in-law. He is from America." He introduced me to them as he patted my back. I smiled as everyone around us paused and stared at me from head to toe.

I passed a smile to all the old men and wiped the sweat off my forehead due to intense heat. We sat down beside another old man who was making Puris and he offered one to us to taste. "No thanks." I said.

"Take it. You get the best experience when you eat directly from the shop." Uncle said and tore the Puri in half, offering one half to me. I reluctantly tasted it and he was right. The Puri was so fresh and fluffy and you just can't mimic this taste in home or restaurant.

Two other men who were apparently Uncle's friends, sat down on stools in front of us and started interviewing me. I answered each query hesitantly all the while wiping the trail of sweat flowing down my face. Whenever I came to Pakistan, I mostly spent time in cars, hotels or Noor's house, all three places were always air-conditioned. But now I realized how hot it really was in here.