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"The most beautiful in the world was my own funeral."

Fariya

"Fariya Ali Sikandar Binte Ali Sikandar, you are given in the Nikah of Omer Ahmed Lashari Bin Ahmed Lashari, with 10 Lakh Rs as your mehr, do you accept it?"

The voice reached her ears, it was loud and clear, but her mind did not process it. It could not process it. Her mind was too blank to even comprehend what was going on around her, the only things it could process was the sight of her beloved father lying on a bed, his hand in hers, his eyes on her.

She was looking straight in his eyes, not even blinking. There was no expression on her angelic face, no light in her hazel eyes. The Mowlana was repeating the same sentence for the second time when she heard a sound, a feeble sound.

"Fariya?"

The voice of her father reached her and she closed her eyes, a small attempt to get away from this chaos. She opened her eyes and let the tears fall from her eyes freely, not even caring that every eye in the room was on her.

The Mowlana again repeated for the third and the last time, his voice harder this time. She was immersed in her thoughts when she felt a pressure on her right hand, a hand which was holding her father. She looked down at her father's hand and then back at his eyes.

And after a pronlonged moment which was spent looking at her father's eyes, which held so many hopes and requests, Fariya finally said the words and even the walls of the room wailed and cried.

"I do."

Her voice, trembling. Her body, shaking. Her heart, dying. Her soul, aching.

She repeated the same words three times before the Mowlana asked her to sign the papers. He placed the papers in front of her and gave her a pen, pointing somewhere at the papers. Fariya took the pen with trembling hands and looked at the place where Mowlana was pointing.

She signed the papers with quivering hands and then the Mowlana took the papers from her and passed them to the black-eyed man sitting in front of her. Fariya did not dare lift her eyes, she just kept looking at his hands, mainly because she did not know where to look at otherwise.

His hands were perfect and had it been some other time, she would have appreciated them. But now, things were a mess and she was a chaos-admiring his hands was not in the option.

Her thoughts still roamed around the water she was in when she heard Molvi Sahab pronouncing words.

Starting with the name of Allah, he wished the new couple every success and every happiness in life. He blessed them for the life they were going to start, for the future they were going to share.

Everybody in the room including Fariya followed the Mowlana, but unlike the Mowlana, she did not pray for happiness or success, instead she asked for strength. Strength to deal with the current situation, to face all the challenges life has thrown at her.

After she was done with the prayer, she looked at her father who was also looking at her, his gaze as soft as ever. Fariya passed him a smile, her very small yet beautiful smile. Taking his hands in hers, she bent her head and kissed his knuckles slightly.

Her father also smiled at her and placed his other hand on her head. "I'm pro.. proud.. of you, Fari!" On hearing those words, she straightened herself and again looked at him, a small smile still etched upon her face.

They were looking at each other when the older man, the father of the groom, came to stand beside his son and took her father's other hand in his hands and kissed it gently. The both men smiled at each other, a full and bright smile.

Fariya looked up at both of them when her eyes landed on the man the world calls hers. He was smiling slightly, looking at his father and the man on the bed. His smile was beautiful, Fariya had to admit it. His black eyes were shining as he smiled which only added to his beauty.

Suddenly, the man, her man, diverted his eyes from his father and looked at her. Fariya's breath caught and she quickly moved her eyes away from him. But it was too late, he had caught her staring at him. Embarrassment and shame attacked at her simultaneously and she felt all of her blood move towards her face.

Shyly and reluctantly, she again lifted her eyes only to gasp for he was still looking at her. One moment later and and she was again looking down; her face, red, her heart, palpitating. But what robbed her of her breath was the look in his eyes.

Her heart beat accelerated for she sensed dislike and loathe in his eyes and what caused Fariya even more distress was the fact that this hatred was directed towards her, only her.

She looked down at her hands which were placed in her lap and begin to think about the events which had happened in one single night.

She remembered talking to her friend and feeling blessed about her life. It was only few hours ago but it seemed to Fariya as ages ago. Her life has turned upside down in these few hours.

From the sudden heart attack of her father to her even more sudden Nikah, her life really has turned to ashes. She was still thinking about her life when the words of her father-in-law brought her back from her thoughts.

"The Nikah was sudden, Ali. Omer and Fariya need some time to adjust to it. We won't take Fariya today with us. The Rukhsati will happen after some time. Are you okay with that?"

Ahmed Uncle looked at her father with a questionable gaze and Fariya looked at her father nodding his head. "As you wish, Ahmed Bhai."

With that, Fariya breathed a sigh of relief for the first time in these few tiring hours. But her relaxation was short lived for the next words again robbed her of her breath. She looked at her husband, her eyes wide, for it was from him that the question came.

"I want to talk to your daughter, Uncle. Can I?"

He was looking at her father while asking the question which made Fariya's world tremble a bit. A deadly silence fell on the room and every eye moved towards the man, a man who dared enough to ask this question in front of everyone.

She moved her eyes away from the tall, dark and handsome man towards her father, waiting for his answer, desperately hoping that he would say no. But he didn't. He merely nodded his head and gave him his permission, permission to talk to his wife.

Fariya's shoulders dropped in defeat and she looked at her father with a pained expression on her face. Taking his eyes away from her father, Omer looked at Fariya and asked her to follow her outside the room.

Reluctantly, she stood up and without looking at anyone went outside, Omer walking in front of her; gracefully.

Omer

She was right behind him, he could feel it without looking back. Walking with a normal pace, which must be very fast for the woman behind him, he led his way through the corridor and then went downstairs using the stairs.

Once he was down, he didn't even bother to look back once at the woman and continued moving towards the exit door. Reaching the door, he pushed it open and stepped outside in the cold and dark night which has descended upon the city of Islamabad with all its glory.

Holding the jacket more closely to him, he went forward towards the small and beautiful lawn in front of the hospital building. Only when he had reached the entrance, did he come to a halt and turned around to see if the lady was even following him all this while.

But to his relief, she was walking towards him, her steps small but graceful. Omer was standing like that for a few moments, waiting for the woman, when she approached him and stopped at some distance from him.

She was still, her eyes looking at the ground which trembled so many times tonight. She was beautiful, he had to admit it. Much more than beautiful. Every single one of her feature screamed perfection.

From her big hazel eyes to long eye lashes, from her slim nose to perfectly shaped lips, from her angelic face to her petite figure, she was indeed the most beautiful woman Omer had ever laid his eyes upon.

He was still looking at the woman, his woman, when she looked up from the ground, to gaze directly at his face.

It was her big, teary eyes which made him realise what he was doing. Shaking his head, he turned around and went inside the lawn. Walking on the lush, green grass, he spotted an empty bench and made his way towards it.

Once there, he stopped and once again turned around to come face to face with the woman. "Sit", he ordered, his voice low. She didn't look up at him but instead, did as she was told.

Sitting at the corner of the bench, she placed her hands in her lap. Takind a deep breath, Omer sat beside her, a 3ft distance between the newly married couple.

There was a silence, a pure and deep silence. It was the voice of the tall man which broke it.

"This Nikah was as unexpected for you as it was for me. Just like me, you must be finding it hard to believe that it even happened in the first place. But it won't last long. Your father is ill and as soon as he has recovered, you can talk to him and I'll talk to my father. They will agree for both of them cherish the happiness of their children.

The Rukhsati won't be happening tonight, nor will it happen at any other day. I guarantee you this. I was forced into this marriage and so were you. And I have no wish to accept this Nikah and start a new life with you. I'll end this Nikah as soon as possible."

His voice was cold, just like the words he said. Though his tone was reassuring, his voice was anything but that. It was more like he just wanted to be done with it, to be done with this mess once and for all.

Omer wanted to make it clear to the woman sitting beside him that he was forced into this marriage and he had no intention to start a new life with her. His words were hard, he knew it, but he couldn't find any better and soothing words. It was to be done like this.

But, selfishly, he made himself feel better by thinking that this Nikah was forced for her as well and just like Omer, she also needed an escape from this marriage.

"Do you want to say something?"

He asked, his voice a bit less cold this time. He waited for an answer which never came. Some minutes might have passed when he turned his head around to look at her, wanting to know why was the answer not coming.

But to his bewilderment, there were tears on her face. She was silently crying. Though it was dark, he could still see her tears from the light made by the moon.

He pressed his lips together and clenched his fists. What was she trying to prover here? That the injustice happened only to her? That only she was innocent?

"Do you want to say something?"

He asked again, this time his voice was cold as ice.

But this time, she answered. Not by words but by actions. She just shook her head slightly, tears still falling from her eyes.

Letting out a deep breath, he turned his head and for a moment or two, looked at the building of the hospital standing in front of him.

"Okay then. I'm going."

With that said, he stood up, and without even glancing at the woman once, made his way towards the exit of the lawn and then towards the parking lot.

Producing a key from his pocket, he clicked the unlock button and sat inside the car. And the next moment, he was out on the road.

Again.

For the second time tonight.

But this time, he had no destination. He did not know where to go. Not because he had no place to go, but because he did not have a heart to go there.

Driving carelessly on the roads of Islamabad at 4 in the morning, his mind was a mess. He just couldn't believe what had happened to him.

One moment he was sleeping peacefully in his bed and the next, he was married to a woman he had never seen before, let alone know her.

He was at the outskirts of the city, when he pushed the break and the car immediately came to a halt. The screeching sound of the wheels tore the silence of the night. He opened the door of the car and turned around so that his feet were on the ground while he was still sitting inside the car. Bringing his head forward, he placed it in his hands and let out a defeated sigh.

Omer never thought, never in a million years did he think, that life will throw at him all its injustice and cruelty. He was a happy man, a man blessed with almost everything. He had perfect life in the eyes of any stranger.

But they were wrong, so wrong. He didn't have anything even close to perfect. Money. Looks. Family. But mental peace? He lacked it. Drastically. But anything that happened in his life did not prevent him from being nice towards his family.

No other person had ever seen the good in him except his family and that is why he goes by words such as cruel and cold. But his family knew better. He was of the opinion that if you show people that you care about them, they'll walk all over you. And he wanted to prevent it, at any cost. And now this.

Tonight proved what he had always dreaded. His father's brother thought that his father cared so he used him to suit his personal ends. His father knew that Omer cared so he also used him.

Only one lesson was learnt: Caring is not an advantage!

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A new chapter! Kindly vote and comment to let me know if you like it. I'll look forward to your response!

Bin - Son
Binte - Daughter 
Nikah - Marriage contract
Rukhsati - Bride leaving her house after Nikah