He gave a nod and walked past her. Amaal’s smiling eyes were on him, Atharva’s too. He kept walking.
“Oh ho,” Adil clapped his chest to halt him. His jovial face was extra cheery today. “All good?”
Samar nodded.
“Good as ingood?”
Samar saw his eyes veer to the spot behind him. To Iram.
“Hmm.”
“Then come, we have some fun to have there.”
Samar let him turn him around, only to find Begumjaan with Iram now. How many of his people was she going to snatch?
“All good?” Atharva joined them, asking the exact same question.
“Begumjaan has opened her matrimony shop.” Adil tipped his chin. “Support me, boys.”
Samar huffed, following him to the spot he had just left.
“Samar,” Adil warned.
He nodded.
“…how would I not?” Begumjaan was laughing. “Finally this good–for-nothing man has done something worthwhile in his life.”
“And here I was wondering why I am hiccupping!” Adil started his drama. “Begumjaan has been cursing us in Farsi, Atharva." He elbowed Samar.
“Oh no, you hiccup when Begumjaan curses you in Kaeshir,” Samar found his voice. “If she curses you in Farsi then your right eye flickers.” It was true. They had gone through long discussions and use cases to come to that conclusion years ago.
“No, that’s the left eye, right eye is if she uses bad words, the real bad ones,” Atharva jumped in.
“You rascals, you three,” Begumjaan turned to him. “Huh, Samar miyan, Atharva has also found sense in his life. High time you do now.”
Samar sobered.
“But didn't he tell you that he did, Begumjaan?” Adil announced. “Samar, you sly boy, you didn’t tell our Begumjaan?”
“What are you saying?”
“Yes, yes, tell me? Who is she?” Begumjaan lit up. Samar found his eyes rolling, and catching Amaal’s. In the distance. Not so distant that she couldn’t hear this.
Amaal startled as their eyes met. She turned away and wove into the maze of people.
“Yes, yes, tell her Samar,” Adil needled him.
“Adiiiil!” He sneered, seeing her disappear into the maze.
“Not she, ask what Begumjaan,” Adil went on. “He is in love with his constituency. Qureshi and I were even planning to get him married to a tree there, like they do in Hindus sometimes…”
“Stop messing around with me. That joke was not even funny. And by the way, you are next on my radar, Adil Hussain.”
Samar kept his eyes out for Amaal. But he never found her again. He heard his name a few times in the conversation, but his attention was divided between two women — Iram Haider, who was smiling at their internal jokes like she had always been a part of them, and Amaal, who had disappeared into the crowd of her people but still lingered on the surface of his mind.
His mobile buzzed in his hand.
FARIS
