In the bright lit office of Halal Irish Meats, Salman seething eyes met with the chairperson of the company that was his biggest suppliers. His jaw tightened and his grip on his pen stiffened. Mr. Shams swallowed seeing the leashed rage in the young man. He didn't know how he will answer to the questions that Salman was adamant to ask.

Never leaving his blazing gaze, "Let's be honest with each other, Shams." Salman said in a very cool voice which was a cover up for his temper.

Shams slightly nodded indicating his affirmation.

"Daud is manipulating your decisions. Isn't he?" Salman's piercing gaze went through the brave façade of the older man.

Shams sighed, "Look it is my decision as to who I want the contract with." He tilted his head, "But I agree Daud terms and conditions are very attractive."

Leaning forward on the glossy wooden desk, Salman hissed, "What is he giving you that I am not?"

Shams eyebrow raised, "Partnership. A stake in his company. Do you promise me that? I don't think so."

Rolling the pen on his fingers, trying to come to terms, "And one of his conditions is to leave our contract. Isn't it?"

There was eerie silence. There was no need to give the confirmation. The silence spoke loud and clear.

Salman threw the pen across the table, and settled back on his chair, "I will pay cash for every consignment. I will double my orders. And I will settle for 10% of the shares of the company." Shams eyes widened. Salman lips curled in a satisfying smile. "Of course you know very well what 10% will mean?"

The other man was quiet.

To make his point, Salman said, "Thousands of euros in your pocket with no efforts made."

"I ... I ..." Shams stammered.

Salman's sparkled with triumph, "It's an opportunity of a life time. I give you a week to decide." With that he threw back his chair and strode out of the office without a backward glance.

The game is on, Daud. I will rip you apart now. Then I will see how Nawal marries you.

****

"Seema?" Ghazala spoke uncertainly on the phone.

"Jee Baji." Seema sounded distant.

Ghazala sighed, this would be even more difficult than she thought, "I am sorry. I tried my best but after what Nawal did...." Her voice trailed off.

There was silence on the other side.

"Seema?"

"It's okay baji. I understand we cannot force her. It's a matter of her whole life."

"I wish the events were in my control. But we are helpless in front of our children." Ghazala shoulders slumped as she sank back on the kitchen chair.

"Baji, let's not bring this topic up ever again. This chapter is over. I wish happiness for Nawal."

"Thank you Seema," Ghazla voice lowered in guilt.

"I have to go I will call you later, Baji." Seema said in a hurry and before her elder sister could respond she hung up.

Ghazala knew there will be no call for some time. Seema was really upset. If only, Nawal had listened and agreed, she would have never damaged the relationship with her sister.

The die was cast.

****

"Such an elegant dress, Nawal. I had no idea you bought this last time when you went to Pakistan." Samreen said zipping Nawal's dress. Nawal smoothed her dress from the sides.

"Yes Bhabi, I don't know why Mom told me to get it. But I did. There were no big events to wear it. Well until now." Nawal murmured looking at herself at the mirror.

Squeezing her arms, Samreen commented earnestly, "Well you are looking like a princess. I am sure Daud will not be able to take his eyes off you."

Nawal was about to reply when the baby's cries resounded in the room. Nawal's youngest nephew was crying, demanding his mother's attention.

Samreen stepped back, "It's better I feed him now. I was thinking to pin up my sari." She sat on the bed and embraced her baby boy in her arms. Dropping her black glittery pallu (sari drape on the shoulder), she unbuttoned her fancy blouse. "I don't know why I agreed to wear sari. It was your brother's idea." She said in annoyance as the baby latched on her breast.

Nawal had started applying foundation on her face, "Well I am sure Bhai jaan thinks you look sexy in it." She winked.

Samreen huffed, "A mother of three young children cannot handle sari. It's just not easy."

"Well then let him take care of them and you walk freely in your sari." Nawal smirked and continued to apply foundation on her neck.

Samreen giggled, "Funny, your brother had said the same."

"What's all the giggling about here?" Fiza asked entering the room.

"Oh Fiza you are right on time." Samreen grabbed her friend's arm who was now her sister in law as well. "I need your help with the make-up." Fiza opened her mouth to decline but Nawal pouted, "Please Fiza you can't abandon me this way."

"Fine sit down." Opening the eye shadow box, Fiza muttered under her breath, "Such drama queen."

Nawal ignored her sister in law who was only couple of years older than her. And dragged the desk chair in front of the dresser.

"Ok start." Nawal's enthusiasm could be seen as she perched on the chair and closed her eyes.

An hour later the two married women were scanning Nawal's appearance after their handy work.

"Mashaa Allah you look gorgeous Nawal." Samreen exclaimed. "May Allah ward off all kinds of evil eye. Ameen."

The other two women echoed "Ameen".

Nawal stood in front of the mirror gazing at herself. Unable to believe what she was seeing at the mirror's reflection. She was donned in light gold colour flowy dress that had intricate designs of pearls, Swarovski diamonds and thread embroidery. Her dupatta was pinned on the head. Her hair was tied in messy fishtail braid set on the side on her shoulder. She adorned large oriental style gold chandelier earrings, chunky stones ring and matching glass bangles. Fiza had outdone herself applying cosmetics on Nawal. Nawal's eyes were nearly bare, with light coloured eyeshadow and kohl pencil while her lips were highlighted with a dark maroon lipstick.

"Are you sure this lipstick looks good on me?" Nawal was perplexed.

"You look great. Besides, men won't be coming in the guest room that has been set up for women sitting area." Fiza pointed out.

Nawal inclined her head in agreement.

"Girls come on, there is so much ..." Ghazala's eyes widened when she had stepped in the room. The sight of Nawal had robbed her speech. She couldn't believe her daughter had grown old enough to become a bride. Her daughter, her baby, her little girl. But as she had done all these years, she continued to hide her inner most thoughts for her daughter, "Hmm...good. Daud and his family is here. Let's go."

Nawal's heart fell knowing her mother didn't even compliment her. It was the biggest day of her life. She swallowed, disappointed she picked her pearl and gold clutch bag. Fiza squeezed her hand in reassurance and Samreen smiled softly in silent support.

****

Daud was restless seated amongst Nawal's brothers and father. He was dressed in a dark grey three-piece suit and a dark blue shirt that was an exact colour of his eyes. He was tapping his fingers on his lap as the men around him spoke of politics back in Pakistan or of the recovery of Irish economy. He wasn't interested in any of this idle chat. He wanted to slip the ring on her finger and claim her as his.

There were very few people invited for the engagement party. From Daud's side of the family, his parents and grandfather was present. His youngest uncle was also present with his wife. He was a very quiet man living in outskirts of Dublin who would hardly interfere in other's affairs. His cousin Usamah was also there with his newly married wife Sabah. Muhammad and his family wasn't present. That was expected, as Salman would never want to be present at the engagement and nor would any of his family members.

Ghazala stood by the threshold of the living room and smiled pleasantly greeting the men, "Assalam u alaikum."

The men replied, "Walaikum salaam."

"We should get the ring ceremony done." She announced and then turned to Daud, "Chloe has asked for the ring."

He nodded and stood up. Ghazala waited anxiously for the ring but instead the young man gestured her to walk before him so he could follow. Baffled, she trod to the guests' room where the women guests were seated. "One minute" she said to her future son in law.

"Daud would like to come in here." Ghazala announced in the room. The women scurried to wear their hijabs. Chloe frowned knowing that Ghazla preferred segregation of genders and she had a fair idea that Daud was aware of this. Then why was he coming in the room? She hesitantly stood up and neared her son. She arched an eyebrow questioningly, in response Daud smiled broadly.

Once the women were in their hijabs, Daud stepped in the room. He muttered his salaam and his eyes were focused only one girl. His girl. The girl in gold dress. He was oblivious to others who replied his greeting. He strode to the young woman and went down on one knee in front of her.

Nawal's heart was pounding hard when she had heard his voice. Unable to look up, her head bowed down, her hands were gripping the clutch bag tightly.

"Nawal Ahmed, will you marry me?" his husky voice asked.

Her eyelids gradually rose and met his penetrating blue eyes. She was speechless. She nodded slowly. He smiled and extended his hand. She let go of the clutch bag and timidly her hand covered his outstretched palm. He gripped it in his warm hand and then slid the sparkling diamond ring on her third finger. Her gaze flickered to the ring. Their gazes met again and she felt she was drowning in those deep blue seas. His lips twitched. Her cheeks tinted. Squeezing her hand, he let go then and stood up.

Averting his gaze from other women in respect, he strode out of the room. Ghazala was scowling at the scene that had unfolded in front of her. But she held her tongue.

All the ladies surrounded Nawal and squealed in excitement as they glanced at the spectacular solitaire diamond gold ring.

"Look at how big the diamond is!!" Fiza complimented.

"Mashaa Allah it looks beautiful on your hand Nawal." Samreen observed rocking her baby son in her arms.

Nawal whirled the ring on her finger with a dreamy smile and tried to slow down her heart beat.

Her dream was coming true.

****

Late night when the guests were gone, Nawal relaxed against the headboard as she slipped the bangles out of her wrist. Samreen sat beside her nursing the baby.

"Mashaa Allah it was a great event." Samreen mused out loud. She lightly traced her baby's black hair, "The food was good but most of all the would be bride was blushing throughout the event." She winked, glancing at Nawal, "Especially during the ring ceremony."

Nawal closed her eyes and a smile lingered on her lips, "oh Bhabi, I had never thought he would go down on his knee. It was as if ... as if..."

"A real filmy scene." Chuckled Samreen.

There was a light knock, "Can I come in?" Faraz asked peering in through the door when he opened it.

"Of course Bhai jaan." Nawal said as the last of the bangles came off.

Samreen smiled at her husband. Faraz smirked, "Little guy hungry again?"

Samreen rolled her eyes, "He is one hungry baby."

Faraz chortled and turned his attention to Nawal, "So, are you happy now?"

Nawal flushed, biting her lower lip, she whispered, "Jee."

"Good, I want you to be happy always. And I am sure Daud will keep you happy too inshaa Allah."

Samreen responded, "Inshaa Allah."

"But I didn't like what he did today." Ghazala stomped in the room.

Nawal scowled. Faraz eyebrows knotted, "What did he do?"

"He shouldn't have touched Nawal. He is still her non-mehram." Ghazala fumed.

Faraz straightened in alert, "What do you mean touch?"

"He is the one who put the ring on her." Ghazala pointed at Nawal's hand.

Faraz relaxed, "Mom, this has become a trend now. It's okay if he did." He shrugged, "Besides, he did in front all of you. It's not like he did it alone."

Ghazala shook her head in annoyance, "Trend doesn't mean we forget our values and what our religion teach us. What is wrong will always remain wrong. I wasn't able to say much at that time." Her gazed focused on Nawal, "listen to me clearly Nawal, I don't want you meeting with him. I don't even want you talking to him on the phone either. But your father is not agreeing to me. I don't know why your father agreed to get this engagement done when it is not even Islamic practice. It was far better you would have gotten married today and go to your home. But your father's insistence he doesn't want you to depart from home so soon."

Ghazala was furious. Faraz slid his arm around his mother's shoulder, trying to cool her, "Mom calm down. Nawal will not disappoint you inshaa Allah. Even I agree with Dad that she shouldn't be rushed to the marriage. All will go well inshaa Allah."

Ghazala crossed her arms over her chest, "Well you and Shahbaz both got married right after the decision was made. We should have done the same for her."

Rubbing her arm, Faraz gently tugged her out of the room, "Let's go downstairs and your son will make you cuppa tea. You know I have become an expert in making tea. Your daughter in law is too lazy to listen to me."

Ghazala giggled.

Samreen yelled, "I heard that."

"Now, I am in trouble. Wait till I reach home, she will be giving out to me." Faraz mockingly complained.

Ghazala laughed.

Nawal sat dumbfounded on the bed. There were tears in her eyes, "Bhabi am I really this bad?"

"Of course not my dear. Mom is only worried about you. Sometimes her concerns are more stern than they should. But you shouldn't take it to the heart. Just remember not to do anything that will hurt her." Samreen murmured placing the baby on the bed and fixing her pallu.

"What about the ring? Shouldn't he put it on me?" Nawal pursed her lips in regret.

"I will be honest with you Nawal. No he shouldn't have. He is not your mahram. Once the nikkah is done he can put anything on you. But not now." There was a momentarily silence, Samreen looked away lost in her thoughts, "This is why your brother didn't agree to engagement. We ended up having our nikkah done immediately after our parents had agreed to the marriage. Even though, the marriage ceremony and valima took place after three months. And I didn't go and live with him until after the marriage ceremony."

Nawal was confused. Was being his fiancé still not made her his?

****

In darkness standing by the sea, the cold winds blew the sands. The gigantic waves crashed on the beach. With his hands dug in his jacket pockets, Salman strolled down the beach. Unaware of the cold. Oblivious of the darkness. This harsh weather was nothing compared to what his heart was feeling. Tonight was the night, the girl of his dreams was getting engaged to the man he had learned to loath in the last few months.

He kicked the pebbles and strolled further, his hands curling to balls in his pockets. Looking up the heavens,

Why Allah? All I ever asked was her. Only her.

He had always thought of her with him when he had planned his future. And now there was no future. A dog barked in the distance. The winds speeded up. His jaw clenched standing under the open skies, he resolved.

I won't let him have her.

I will fight till the end.

I will.

****

Nawal had just entered the masjid and was going to the women's toilet to perform her wudu. She paused in her steps to respond to Daud's text message.

Nawal: I am at Clonskeagh mosque.

Daud: Are you there for the prayers?

Nawal: yes for jummah. I just finished classes and walked to the mosque.

Daud: ok.

Nawal: Why do you ask?

Daud: later.

In the last one week since the engagement, Daud and Nawal had been chatting daily. At late night, they would speak for hours on the phone. It was mostly general talk but sometimes Daud would flirt making Nawal blush. He would laugh in response. And Nawal would be fluster unable to respond. Now as she rolled her sleeves of her shirt, she thought, why was he asking where she was.

She let it go and prepared herself for the Friday congregation afternoon prayer. The advantage of studying at her university was that it was near the largest mosque in Dublin. This allowed her to easily walk up to the mosque after her Friday classes. The adhan echoed in the mosque when Nawal stepped barefoot in the female section of the mosque. Her heart beating in tranquillity. She sat down among the other women from all walks of life to listen to the Sermon and then pray behind the imam.

After the prayer, she was strolling through the mosque parking lot to the entrance gate of the mosque grounds, when her phone rang. Her eyebrows furrowed, Daud was calling her. He never called during the day.

"Hello Daud?"

"Turn around."

c