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  “Ashal...! Can you tell me one thing...! Why are you so concerned about me and my relatives?” Maham had probed Ashal with scrutinizing eyes. “Why the concern? One is a debt, and the other is a favor,” Ashal answered absentmindedly. “There’s no favor in friendship,” Maham said, looking intently at Ashal. “You're right; I'm just trying to repay the favor you did for me. I may not even be able to talk to Abba anymore. You had them agree. It feels like a dream that my marriage has happened. And with the one I wanted.” “Have you talked to Haris Bhai?” Maham asked. “A little while ago, I got a call from him; he said to learn to speak English quickly. Soon, I'll call you over.” Happiness started to cascade down Ashal's face. “Maham, before your wedding, I won’t go anywhere, not to Manchester or anywhere else.” Maham remained silent upon hearing this. She got up from her spot and sat in front of the vanity. Maham's cat-like eyes had red streaks. She looked i...

  "It's wrong... wrong... wrong..." Morgan was driving. His mind kept telling him: "Beg Sahib, you are making a mistake... don’t go... it’s Miraj’s... I’m telling you again." "Mister Brain! You're saying strange things... she's had her operation... Morgan should definitely go. In sickness, medicine doesn’t work like a glance does. Maham's one glance will act as a balm. Mahem will recover quickly." The heart called out Mahem’s name with utmost reverence as it presented its arguments. As the heart and mind debated, the journey from Model Town to Miraj came to an end. Maham parked the car next to his factory and entered the mosque with his eyes lowered. After the prayers and group supplication, he raised his hands again for Mahem’s recovery. "O Allah! Grant Mahem the health that leaves no room for disease." Maham prayed briefly while Hakeem Sahib watched him. Maham wiped his face with his hand and got up to leave. Upon reaching...