It was the day before the wedding. And it seems like Pasha haveli was bustling with joy and happiness.
Workers moved here and there, arranging the decoration for tomorrow. Meanwhile, the situations inside weren't any better.

"Aree wo gift wala box kaha gya?" Shahna asked, looking around for it in panic.

"Ammi ye toh rha!" Laiba pointed out.

"Mujhe bhi na kya hogya hai.." she shook her head

"Aap pareshan na ho...sb ache so ho jayega" laiba tried to calm down her mother.

"Inshallah. Pr na jane kyu mere dil mai bechani se ho rhi hai."

"Ammi aap fikr na kre zyada. aapka BP badh jayega"

"Aap ye sb choorde or kuch der apne kamre mai aaram kr lein"

Shahna stood up and left for her room.

Everybody in the house was busy doing something or another. But as the sun set, a lively mood spread across the haveli.

It was a small event of mehndi for all the women.

Couple of aunties sat in circle as they sang songs, while one of then played tabla.

Farha was sitting on the small couch set in between, a smile plastered to her face. As two girls sitting beside her applied mehndi with practiced ease.

"Zayada lgani ki zarrorat nhi" she hissed at them, once no one was paying attention to her.

"Lekin aap toh bride hai na" one of them said.

"Jitna maine kaha hai utna kro"

"O, sanu kehndi tu lai de jhanjhar, nahi te mar jaana
O, sanu kehndi tu lai de choodi, nahi te mar jaana
O, sanu kehndi tu lai de jhanjhar, nahi te mar jaana
O, sanu kehndi tu lai de choodi, nahi te mar jaana",

"Chlo Mahnoor dance krte hai", Urooj tried to convince her.

"Nahi mujhe dance nhi krna"

"Chlo!!" Urooj finally pulled her to the centre where few girls were already dancing.

Mahnoor couldn't help as a laugh left her. She and Urooj twirl around as older ladies chuckled at them.

Mahnoor finally escaped the dance floor. And grabbing her dress, she sat on the nearby chair, her heels digging into her feet.

Just then she received the message from Eda, that she has arrived.
Mahnoor stood up and rushed towards the gate.

"Kitni late aayi ho tum" Mahnoor complained as she took her in hug.

"Iss Shahrukh he wajah se" Eda said

Her gaze travelled to him, who was leaning against the car already looking at her.

She respectfully wished him salam and he answered with a, "Walekumasalam"

And after saying goodbye, she dragged Eda with her to the party.

There were few people now as elders retired to their room. Only young girls were present.

"Ohh toh ye hai Farha?" Eda stared at the girl laughing amongst the other girls.

Mahnoor followed her gaze. "Hmm."

Farha was smiling, nodding at whatever the others were saying. Every now and then she'd laugh softly, careful not to smudge the mehndi on her hands.

"Huh."

"Kya?" Mahnoor asked.

"I don't like her."

Mahnoor nearly choked.

"You don't even know her!"

"Exactly."

Mahnoor frowned. "Phir kaise decide kr liya?"

Eda shrugged.

"Bas vibe achi nhi hai."

"Eda!"

"I'm serious."

Mahnoor looked at her incredulously.

"You saw her for two minutes."

"Two minutes bohot hote hain."

Mahnoor shook her head.

"You're impossible."

Eda continued staring at Farha.

"Look at her."

"What about her?"

"Everything."

Mahnoor looked again.

Farha was talking to Urooj now.

"She's just sitting there."

Mahnoor groaned.

"Allah ke waste seedhi baat kro."

Eda leaned closer.

"She looks fake."

Mahnoor blinked.

"Fake?"

"Fake."

"Eda, that's so rude."

"I'm not saying she's a bad person."

"Then?"

"I don't know..." Eda narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. "It feels like she's performing."

"You've officially lost it."

"Maybe."

Eda grabbed a samosa from a nearby plate.

⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢

The mehndi celebrations had ended hours ago. The laughter, music and chatter that had filled the haveli throughout the evening had long faded into silence.

But Mahnoor's mind was anything but quiet. And sleep refused to come.

Every time she closed her eyes, the same thought returned.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow Zarim would marry Farha.

The thought sat heavily in her chest, making it difficult to breathe.

With a frustrated sigh, she threw her blanket aside and sat up.

Moonlight spilled through the curtains, bathing her room in a pale glow.
Unable to bear the restlessness any longer, she walked toward her closet.

In the far corner, hidden behind a stack of books and old sketchpads, sat a dusty box.

For a moment, she simply stared at it.
Before she carefully pulled it out.

Mahnoor had always been a collector of memories.

While other people moved on, she held on.

Movie tickets, birthday cards, dried flowers, handwritten notes, tiny trinkets that meant nothing to anyone else but she kept them all.

Because to Mahnoor, memories were precious.

And this box held years of them.

She sat cross-legged on the floor and slowly lifted the lid.

A small smile tugged at her lips.

The box was overflowing.

There were friendship bracelets she had made when she was thirteen, greeting cards covered in glitter, dried flowers pressed between notebook pages, little gifts she had never used because they were too special to risk losing.

Every item carried a story.

A memory.

A version of herself she had left behind.

Her fingers moved through the collection until they landed on something familiar.

A camera.

The smile on her face softened.

Growing up, Mahnoor had never been able to stick to one hobby for very long.

One month she wanted to learn sewing.

The next she was convinced she would become an artist.

After that came baking, pottery, calligraphy, embroidery....each passion burning brightly before being replaced by another.

Then came the summer she became obsessed with photography. For weeks she talked about nothing except cameras. She watched videos, read articles, and spent hours admiring photographs online.

Her mother had flatly refused to buy her one.

"You'll get bored after two weeks," she had said.

But Mahnoor hadn't stopped talking about it.

Then her birthday arrived.

And among all the gifts, there had been one small box.

From Zarim.

Inside was a silver digital camera. It wasn't something fancy or expensive.

But to Mahnoor, it had felt like the greatest gift in the world.

She still remembered running around the house taking hundreds of blurry photos that day.

Mahnoor gently picked up the camera now.

Time had left its marks on it. Tiny pink stickers were scattered across the silver surface. A small charm still dangled from one corner. The edges were slightly scratched from years of use.

Yet somehow it remained her favourite possession.

She ran her thumb over the worn surface.

A painful ache settled inside her chest.

Back then, things had been so simple.

Back then, she had never imagined that one day even looking at this gift would hurt.

The camera hadn't been touched in years.

She wasn't even sure if it still worked.

Curious, she searched through the box until she found the charger.

After plugging it in, she placed the camera beside her and waited.

A few moments later, the tiny screen flickered.

Then lit up.

Mahnoor froze.

She slowly opened the gallery and there were dozens of picture clicked by her. Some of were sunset and sunrise, family, birds, flowers, cats and then Zarim.

There were photos of Zarim.
A lot of them.

Her thumb slowed as she scrolled through them one by one.
He looked so different.
Younger.
Lighter.
In one picture he was laughing at something Darood had said, his smile wide and completely unguarded.
In another, he was sitting cross-legged on the lawn, letting the younger kids climb all over him while he pretended to be annoyed.

There was even one where he was making a ridiculous face at the camera after catching her taking pictures.

A small smile found its way to Mahnoor's lips.

The Zarim in these photographs felt unfamiliar.
Because she had almost forgotten this version of him existed.

Mahnoor stared at a picture of him sitting on the terrace wall, sunlight falling across his face as he laughed at something outside the frame.

For a moment, she couldn't reconcile this carefree young man with the Zarim of today.

The man who always seemed tired.
Always carrying the weight of something invisible on his shoulders.
Her fingers lingered on the screen.

Time had changed him.
It had changed all of them.

Tomorrow all of this would truly become the past.
Tomorrow Zarim would belong to someone else.
Tomorrow she would have to learn how to exist in a world where the tiny hope she had secretly protected for years would finally die.

Her gaze drifted toward the balcony doors.