Episode 4

The wedding was scheduled for just after midnight on Thursday.

There was a reason for it.

Asha had been born on a Thursday, and her family believed it would be auspicious if her marriage took place after the day had fully passed.

It was an old village belief.

The kind that still survived despite the passing years.

---

Meanwhile, Wasek sat alone inside his room with the door locked.

Outside, Naima knocked repeatedly.

"Wasek, open the door."

No answer.

She knocked again.

And again.

Still nothing.

A knot formed in her stomach.

What if he changed his mind?

What if he refused at the last moment?

Everything had already been arranged.

Their father's heart was set on this marriage.

If something went wrong now, the humiliation would be unbearable.

More importantly, it would devastate Azmal Sahib.

Naima's imagination always ran toward the worst possibilities.

"Wasek!"

She knocked harder.

"I need to talk to you. Please open the door."

Finally, the door swung open.

Wasek stood there looking annoyed.

Without saying a word, he returned to the bed and sat down.

Naima entered immediately.

"What's wrong with you?"

Questions poured from her mouth.

"Why are you sitting alone? Are you having second thoughts? Do you not want this marriage?"

Wasek sighed heavily.

"I'm getting married, aren't I?"

His voice carried clear frustration.

"I went to see the girl. The wedding is tonight. Everything is happening exactly the way all of you wanted."

He stood up and walked out toward the veranda.

"What more do you want from me?"

Naima followed him.

After a moment, she asked quietly,

"Do you like someone else?"

Wasek shook his head.

"No."

Then he gave a small smile.

"And even if I did, what difference would it make now?"

The answer left Naima speechless.

Trying to change the subject, Wasek asked,

"Where's Arshi?"

"With Baba."

A smile appeared on Naima's face.

"Grandfather and granddaughter are busy telling stories."

"And Shamim?"

"He went looking for a palanquin."

Wasek turned to look at her.

"A palanquin?"

Naima nodded.

"It was Mother's dream."

---

Years ago, Shahara Begum had often said that her son's bride would arrive in a palanquin.

Like a princess in a fairy tale.

Like the grand weddings she used to describe to her children.

Life had not allowed that dream to come true exactly as she had imagined.

There would be no lavish celebration.

No grand festivities.

But at least one part of her wish could still be fulfilled.

That was why Shamim had been sent to find a palanquin.

---

Back at Amjad Hossain's house, preparations were in full swing.

The moment Wasek and Shamim left after the formal meeting, wedding arrangements began.

This was his eldest daughter's wedding.

Even without a grand ceremony, Amjad wanted everything to be perfect.

Relatives had started arriving.

The atmosphere of a wedding filled the house.

Some guests helped with cooking.

Others chopped vegetables.

Some arranged decorations.

Everyone had something to do.

---

Asha had been bathed and dressed in a yellow sari.

She sat quietly while neighbors came one after another to admire the bride.

Rini never left her side.

She kept staring at her sister.

Completely fascinated.

Asha had never worn a sari before.

At least not in front of her.

"Appa, put the veil over your head again."

Rini giggled.

"I want to see how you look."

Asha glanced around nervously.

"If you don't stop bothering me, Mom will scold both of us."

Rini only laughed.

---

Standing near the doorway, Rasheda Begum watched her daughter.

For a moment, she forgot to breathe.

When had this happened?

When had her little girl become a bride?

The yellow sari transformed her completely.

She looked grown up.

Beautiful.

Ready for a life beyond her mother's reach.

Quietly, Rasheda Begum whispered a prayer.

"Allah, keep my daughter happy."

Her eyes filled with tears.

"Give her the strength to build a home wherever she goes."

Wiping her face quickly, she entered the room.

"Asha, you haven't eaten anything all day."

She sat beside her daughter.

"If you don't eat, your face will look pale."

Then she turned toward Rini.

"Come with me."

A few minutes later, they returned carrying bowls of sweet rice pudding.

Asha refused at first.

But Rini crossed her arms stubbornly.

"If you don't eat, neither will I."

Asha smiled despite herself.

"What kind of logic is that?"

"The best kind."

Rini held out a spoon.

"You feed me first. Then I'll feed you."

Unable to resist, Asha gave in.

For a few brief moments, the sisters forgot the sadness waiting ahead.

---

As evening turned into night, the groom's party prepared to leave.

Before departing, Wasek entered his father's room.

Azmal Sahib looked at his son for a long moment.

Then he smiled.

"When your mother died, I promised myself I would never let you feel her absence."

Wasek remained silent.

"I tried to give you everything I could."

His voice weakened slightly.

"Your happiness always mattered to me."

He paused.

"The first time I saw Asha, I thought of you."

Wasek looked up.

"She is gentle. Respectful. Intelligent."

A proud smile appeared on Azmal Sahib's face.

"From that day, I secretly hoped she would become my daughter-in-law."

The room grew quiet.

"Trust me one last time, son."

Wasek lowered his head.

"I do, Baba."

"Good."

Azmal Sahib nodded.

"Now go."

Then his eyes drifted toward a framed photograph hanging on the wall.

"And don't forget to ask your mother for her blessings."

---

By midnight, Asha had been transformed into a bride.

The yellow sari was gone.

In its place was a beautiful red Benarasi.

Gold jewelry sparkled under the lights.

Her long dark hair framed a face streaked with nervousness and tears.

She looked almost unreal.

Like a fairy who had wandered into the wrong world.

---

The guests finished eating.

The Qazi arrived.

And finally, the moment everyone had been waiting for came.

The marriage ceremony began.

---

The Qazi first sat with Asha and the witnesses.

Formalities were completed.

Names were verified.

Conditions were explained.

Everything was ready.

Only one word remained.

"Kobul."

Acceptance.

The Qazi looked at Asha.

"Daughter, do you accept this marriage?"

Silence.

Asha couldn't speak.

Inside her chest, a storm raged.

Childhood memories flooded her mind.

Her mother's voice.

Her father's smile.

The warmth of home.

The safety she had always known.

Everything felt as though it was slipping away.

The room blurred.

People began encouraging her.

Some spoke softly.

Others impatiently.

Still she couldn't find her voice.

Tears streamed down her cheeks.

At last, with a trembling breath, she whispered,

"Alhamdulillah... Kobul."

The room relaxed.

The Qazi repeated the question.

Again she answered.

Then a third time.

"Alhamdulillah... Kobul."

The moment the words left her lips, Asha burst into tears.

Across the room, Rasheda Begum and Rini were crying openly.

Amjad Hossain sat frozen.

Unable to speak.

Staring silently at the ground.

---

A short while later, Wasek gave his acceptance as well.

The marriage was complete.

They were now husband and wife.

---

Then came the hardest part.

The farewell.

The moment every daughter fears.

The moment every parent dreads.

Asha's crying became uncontrollable.

Tradition required her to throw a handful of rice behind her as a symbolic gesture of gratitude toward the home that had raised her.

With trembling fingers, she took the rice.

Her hand shook violently.

She tossed it over her shoulder.

But the words that were supposed to accompany the gesture never came.

Her voice broke before she could finish.

She couldn't walk.

Every step away from the house felt impossible.

If only she could stay one more day.

One more night.

One more hour.

But life never asked what daughters wanted.

Eventually, Amjad Hossain took his daughter's hand.

Slowly, he placed it into Wasek's.

His voice trembled.

"Today, I place the light of my eyes in your hands."

Tears filled his gaze.

"Take care of her."

He swallowed hard.

"Never make her cry."

No more words came.

The emotion was too much.

For the first time that night, Wasek truly understood the weight of what had been entrusted to him.

Without saying anything, he gently lifted Asha into his arms.

The bride buried her face against her veil as fresh tears fell.

Carefully, Wasek carried her to the waiting palanquin.

And under the silent midnight sky, Asha began the journey away from the only home she had ever known.

To be continued...

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