Mending Broken Hearts

38. On The Way

June 2020

Omar

I stood in the immigration line at Jinnah International Airport in Karachi, clutching my passport with a valid visa and my negative COVID test result in one hand. My carry on bag in the other.

"What was your purpose of returning to Pakistan?" the immigration officer asked me.

"I was visiting family. I am a doctor-in-training an my father wasn't feeling well," I replied. 

And somehow ended up getting married to the most incredible woman in the world, I wanted to shout out loud for the world to hear. Barely able to contain myself at the thought of her waiting for me, and so very thankful for the mask I wore, I let a wide grin spread onto my face.

It totally skipped my mind that immigration officials ask you to take your mask off as well, for identification purposes. "Mask utarein," the man asked. 

I obliged. The grin, unfortunately, persisted. 

The officer raised an eyebrow, "Abu ki tabiyat kharaab thi tou itna muskaraa kyun rahein hai?" (If your father wasn't well, why are you smiling?)

Oops. I swallowed the joy, and stuttered a reply. "Umm...ji...woh sahi ho gayein hain ab." (He is fine now.)"

"Ajeeb doctor hain aap," the man grumbled, but stamped my passport anyway and let me go. Now I just prayed I wasn't 'randomly' selected for further questioning when I entered US. 

Twenty minutes later I was standing in the mithai shop just outside the departure lounge. That was probably, something I should have done before but between making sure Abu had everything he needed, and trying to stuff all the clothes and jewelry Ami had bought for Madi in a suitcase, I just didn't get the time. 

Yet, mithai was the only gift Madi had asked for. So stale or not, airport mithai it would have to be. But what shall I get? I wondered. From red, white and pink mithai shaped in little balls, to brown squares that resembled fudge there were a surprising number of options even in this unassuming little shop. 

I texted her.

Me: At the mithai shop in airport. What sweet stuff do you want from here?'

She replied almost immediately.

Madi: Only you 💖

I chuckled thinking of how she must have smiled while biting her lower lip and typing that message.

Me: Stop flirting with me Mrs. Madi A. Omar and answer my question!

Her reply made me laugh out loud. 

Madi: I won't stop flirting! I can do whatever I want with you now 😏

Fiesty! My sweet, innocent wife it seemed may not be as inhibited as I thought she would be. But any further thoughts of testing her innocence immediately fizzled out when a man cleared his throat loudly. 

"Ji janaab, kuch lein ge bhi ya idhar kharai ho ke sirf haste rahein ge?" the mithai shop man asked with an amused look in his eyes. (Sir, are you going to buy something or just stand here laughing?)

That jolted me back to reality, diverting my thoughts from the untimely, albeit now appropriate, visions of being with my wife. Quickly, I purchased the mithai I knew she enjoyed – gulab jamun, habshi halwa, and barfi – along with some extras for my in-laws. Then, I got the hell out of that mithai shop, before the shopkeeper could give me anymore weird looks.