Their Last Season

"Ya Allah, why is Amma not picking up the call?" Mahira muttered, getting annoyed.

She dialed her Amma's number again and this time on the fifth ring her Amma picked up.

"Assalamualaikum, where were you Maa? I have been calling you for 4 minutes and you weren't picking up my call." Mahira huffed.

The person on the other end smiled.

"Bitiya, you know in 4 minutes you have called me 10 times. When will you learn to wait? I was in the washroom, bitiya."

The old lady on the other end said amusingly.

Mahira smiled.

"You know Amma, I can't live without talking to you. Well, leave all this — I have something important to tell you." She said hurriedly, like a child eagerly waiting to tell her mother about her day.

"Ok, tell me Gudiya." Her Amma spoke with the warmth that always melted her heart.

"Amma, you know today my senior praised me a lot.

He said I am the best employee and engineer.

You know Amma, I am getting a promotion."

Mahira chirped.

Her Amma smiled proudly, tears in her eyes.

Mahira had always made her proud.

Through Mahira she was completing her dreams.

"MashaAllah, MashaAllah. My bitiya is talented, and definitely she is the best."

Amma added warmly.

They talked for some more minutes before hanging up.

"Love you Amma." Mahira said in a soft voice.

"Love you too, Gudiya." Amma added.

Mahira smiled and turned towards the door where she saw Danish leaning against it, amused.

"Assalamualaikum." Danish greeted with a soft smile.

"Walaiqumasalam, when did you come?" Mahira replied warmly.

"I came when you were busy stealing my mother." Danish said, teasing her.

"Are we getting jealous?" Mahira also leaned towards the cupboard, folding her arms, smirking.

"Why would I? The moment I married you, I knew my mother was no longer only mine." Danish said in a resigned tone.

She shook her head.

"She is your mother, but for me she is both mother-in-law and mother."

She said it casually but her eyes — the way they shone with tears.

Danish walked towards her and pulled her into a side hug.

He knew she was missing her mother.

Mahira had lost her mother when she was a toddler.

Her father had raised her.

He tried becoming both parents for her and her siblings.

But still, a mother's void was somewhere there.

It got fulfilled when she married Danish.

Her mother-in-law Silah gave her the love she had been craving for.

"Ok, listen. I know you have work but I am missing Amma a lot so I am going to the village. And you have to make arrangements."

She said with utmost seriousness.

Danish got bewildered.

This girl and her sudden decisions.

Danish shook his head and called his brother to drop her at their hometown.

Mahira packed while singing a song.

Her excitement for the trip could be seen on her face.

Her face was adorned with a smile.

Danish smiled seeing her enthusiasm.

Next day.

It was time for her to go.

Her brother-in-law came to pick her up.

She was about to leave the room when Danish suddenly hugged her.

He didn't know why, but he didn't want her to go.

"Danish, I know you will miss me but I will be back in 3 days."

Mahira said while smiling.

But he didn't let her go.

"Danish, I am not going forever. Why are you hugging me as if it is the last time?"

She said to lighten the atmosphere.

Danish pulled out of the hug and looked at her with disapproval.

"You don't get to joke like this, Ira.

Come back soon."

He said while holding her hand and taking her towards the main door.

Her brother-in-law was there.

"Bhabhi, it's time."

She was about to leave when she felt a tug. She turned back.

Her Abaya's sleeve hook had gotten tangled with Danish's shirt sleeve button.

"See, even my shirt doesn't want you to leave."

Danish said while raising his hands.

She shook her head.

She bridged the distance between them and started untangling her abaya.

Danish watched her, smiling, but his heart — oh, his heart was screaming not to let her go.

But he didn't say this to her.

Because he knew how much she wanted to meet Amma.

"I love you..." He whispered.

"Come back soon." A request.

She nodded.

"Love you too...

Allah Hafiz." She smiled.

And just like that she went away, leaving behind a throbbing heart.

It had been 3 days since she went there.

Danish received a voice note in the afternoon.

"You know, this time I am bringing the best gift for you — the one you can never give me.

Wait, dear husband...

Meet you tomorrow.

Allah Hafiz."

He replied,

"Ok, are you challenging me?"

But hours passed and she didn't reply.

Now it was night. He tried calling her.

Worriedly he was pacing when he got a message.

"Amma and I are at Nani's place, network is not good here."

He sighed with relief.

He heard the doorbell ring. He looked at the clock — it was 4 am.

When he opened the door he saw his brother.

His brother Usama was crying and in the next second his brother hugged him.

Danish got worried.

His heart was throbbing.

Something bad had definitely happened.

"Bachcha, what happened?" He asked, dreading the answer.

Usama didn't speak.

Danish patted his back to calm him down.

Then his hand went still. He heard something he could never have been prepared for.

"Bhai, Bhabhi fell from the terrace.

She is no more, Bhaiya.

She is no more."

Usama uttered with utmost difficulty.

And Danish — he was frozen.

His Ira was no more.

.........................................

It had been 15 days since Shanaya had committed suicide.

But for Sumayya and Hamza it felt like 15 months.

Sumayya was standing near the window.

She could never forget the way Hamza broke down in her arms.

His words still echoed in her ears.

Oh, his words.

"I again lost my sister, Sumi.

I lost her...

Why am I such an unlucky brother, Sumi.

Why...

Why does Allah take the ones most beloved to us."

And Sumayya had no answers.

She just cried with him.

Amina aunty was on holiday.

Sumayya wanted to meet her but since she was a new bride she couldn't go out like that.

But her heart ached for Aunty.

Why is life so unpredictable?

One moment the loved one is in our arms.

The next moment there is just their remnants.

Hamza and Sumayya were sitting on their room's balcony, sipping tea.

Sumayya asked the question that had been on her mind for 15 days.

"Hamza." She began.

"Hmm." He hummed.

"That day you said you had lost your sister again."

She paused, knowing the topic was tender.

"But you don't have a sister — there are just the two brothers."

She looked at him.

She saw how his hand tightened on the cup.

She knew she was about to witness a new part of Hamza's story.

Hamza put the cup on the table and looked at the moon.

"I am the youngest — you know that.

16 years younger than Bhai.

But after Bhai, I wasn't born first.

My sister was.

'Ayla.'

Ayla Appi." He exhaled.

"She was 14 years older than me.

2 years younger than Bhai."

He paused. He felt a hand slip into his.

Sumayya tightened her hold — as if saying, I am here. I am with you.

"Bhai and I loved her most.

But she loved me most."

"Hamza, where are you beta?

See, I have made your favourite paratha.

Come out."

Ayla called out.

Ayla knew her baby brother was hiding in some corner of the house to avoid eating.

Hamza and his eating habits.

Ayla shook her head smiling.

Then she heard a giggle.

She knew Hamza was under the table.

She smiled.

"Hamza." She called him, stepping towards the table.

"Okay, don't eat. You know I only make paratha for you — but no worries, I will give it to Bhai today."

Little Hamza was smiling, proud of himself for hiding from his Appi. But the moment he heard Appi was going to give his paratha to Bhaijaan — his possessiveness kicked in.

Appi's special paratha was only Hamza's.

Hamza came out from under the table and grabbed Ayla's kurti.

Ayla smiled knowingly.

"No, Appi — mine." Hamza declared.

Ayla turned and scooped 5-year-old Hamza into her arms.

"But you didn't want to eat, so I thought — why waste food? Let me give it to Bhai." Ayla said, suppressing her smile.

"No, mine." Hamza protested.

Ayla laughed.

Hamza huffed.

Here he was so worried and his Appi was laughing.

"Put me down." Hamza demanded.

Ayla put him down. He took his plate from the table.

Ayla sat down, then scooped Hamza again and made him sit in her lap.

She lovingly fed him.

"Appi, when will I grow up like Bhai and Abbu?" Hamza enquired, furrowing his brows.

"Why do you want to grow up like them?" Ayla asked.

"Because then I will earn money." Little Hamza said as if stating the obvious.

Ayla was amused.

"And why does my baby need to earn money? If you need anything, just ask me." Ayla said while stroking his hair.

"Oh Appi, you are not as intelligent as me."

"I want to buy jhumkas for you the way Bhaiya buys them for you from his own money." Said the little boy.

Ayla's heart swelled.

"But I have bangles, baby."

Ayla replied.

"No, I want to buy pink and white bangles for you because you have every colour except those.

So your Hamza will bring them for you."

Hamza replied innocently. Then he paused.

"And you won't wear pink and white bangles from anyone but me." He added with seriousness.

Ayla felt wetness on her cheeks.

How much her baby brother loved her.

She kissed Hamza's forehead and hugged him.

Hamza hugged her back.

"I have a dozen white and pink bangles in my locker. But now I don't have her to give them to."

Hamza said as a sob left his mouth.

Sumayya's own eyes welled up.

Then Hamza stood up and gave her his hand.

She took it.

He took her into their room. Sumayya followed.

He stopped near the cupboard.

Sumayya watched him keenly.

He opened the cupboard and then a locker — inside was a large wooden box.

He took it out and sat on the floor. Sumayya sat in front of him.

He looked at the box as if it were the most precious thing in the world.

Then he opened it.

Sumayya gasped. She understood.

It was Ayla's bangle box — bangles of every colour except pink and white.

Sumayya looked at Hamza.

"It's hers.

See — she kept her promise. But I couldn't."

Then he took out another small box from the locker and opened it.

"I bought them for her. But now it's too late."

He hiccupped.

Sumayya patted his thigh.

"It's just I and her remnants."

Sumayya saw a grieving brother — how he was treasuring his sister's last belongings.

"How did she die, Hamza?" She couldn't stop herself from asking.

Hamza looked at her.

"She was 19 when her appendix burst. And just like that..." He couldn't complete the sentence.

"You know, Sumi — Abba and Bhai couldn't even cry.

They don't even take her name because it hurts them too much."

Hamza whispered.

"She went, but she took a part of us with her.

Leaving us broken in a way we can never heal.

And now Shanaya has left me.

She wasn't my sister by blood but my heart was joined with hers the way a mother's placenta is connected to her baby.

She could have talked to me...

She could..."

He whispered.

They mourned his sisters together.

Later Sumayya helped Hamza to bed.

And then she slept too.

.........................................

"You know, Mahi, she was looking just like you.

The same innocence.

The same curiosity.

But I am afraid, Mahi — what if she has ambitions like yours?"

Silah whispered.

Silah remembered the bride in the red veil.

Sumayya.

The woman who — like Mahira once — became a bride in red.

But died while bleeding red.

Silah whispered while looking at Mahira's red veil.

Her remnant.