Sacred Vow

“The stars, moon, and natural flowers are a witness that today, I promise to stick with you till the end. I will be yours till not even death can separate us,” Liyana vowed.

“The stars, moon, and natural flowers are a witness that today, I promise to love you, care for you, and stick with you beyond forever. Nothing, not even death can separate us,” Ayaan completed the vow.

***

Liyana was in love with her college mate, Ayaan, and her parents agreed to an arranged marriage with the worst person she ever knew, Rayan. Her fate lies in the vow taken with her lover.

Can their love surpass the oppression faced by the family? Will their vow stick them together or be their doom?

“Love is the most effective cure. In the crevices of disasters, happiness lies like a diamond in a mind, so let's instill in ourselves the wisdom of love. " “Let's, let's stay together.”

The sky, mid-afternoon, is a beautiful canvas graced with sky blues and pure milky whites. The blue in the depths beyond and the smooth, rounded, sugar and sweet sun blaze up the sky so bright and creative.

Liyana Shah, a typical Pakistani lady sat across the street on a long bench, reading a particular philosophical novel. She was 23 years old. A humble, mischievous, and vivacious lady she was. She had her long black heavy locks in a bun with a transparent stole, encircling her well-sculptured face. She was a perfect exemplar of beauty with her big, beautiful brown eyes. Her skin was lightly golden and unblemished. She had a moderate height of 5 feet 4 inches. Whenever she smiles, which was constant, her snow pearl perfectly unified teeth sparkled coupled with her cute dimples making her gorgeous. Though she was a poor, simple girl, yet high in all appetency. She lived with her parents in Cliffton.

Clifton is an upscale and historic seaside locality in Karachi, Pakistan. It is one of the most affluent parts of the city, home to some of Karachi's most expensive real estate. Karachi is the capital of the Pakistani province of Sindh, Southern Pakistan. Situated on the Arabian Sea, Karachi serves as a transport hub, and it's home to Pakistani two largest seaports, the port of Karachi and Port Bin Qasim, as well as the busiest airport in Pakistan.

“Liyana baby!” a familiar voice sounded jovial and Liyana lifted her eyes to behold the smiling face of Sofia.

Sofia Naqvi was a 24-year-old Muslim. She has a slightly pale complexion. She had her hijab beautifully wrapped over her head. Her hazel-like eyes dazzled. Overall, she was pretty in her way with a heart as selfless as a water touch. She was from a distinctive orthodox Islamic family that never joked with the ethical impression of their females. Though Liyana was also a Muslim, she got no restrictions or manner of dressing from either her parents. Her father was a busy man who cares less about the appearance of his daughter as long as he was aware of her decency. Her mother was a Punjabi woman from Punjab state, India.

“Hi, Sofia! What's up? " Liyana responded, reciprocating the smile and Sofia sat beside her.

“Alhamdulillah, I’m good,” Sofia smiled. “Why are you sitting here alone?” she asked, placing her handbag beside them.

“There is too much noise at home,” Liyana sounded off, closing the page she was reading.

“What's causing the noise?”

“My neighbor and his wife started quarreling earlier today. They wouldn't let me concentrate on reading, so I had to leave home for them,” Liyana explained.

“Oh, sorry about that,” Sofia conveyed.

“You see the reason I wish never to get married?” Liyana said, turning her face to Sofia. “Married couples are so annoying and men could be callous most times," Liyana let out.

“But your parents are married, aren't there?”

“Um, their case is different,” Liyana said. “My mum and dad do fight sometimes, but they make sure to settle their differences even before I learned they were fighting. That's their problem though. My desires are different, besides, it isn't a must I get married, is it?”

“You are being childish, Liyana. Only time can tell though,” Sofia worded.

Just then, the call to prayer (Adhan) started. Liyana was silent while Sofia recited some supplications after the Adhan du’as.

“It's time for Zuhr namaz, let’s go pray, " Sofia said, standing up and picking up her bag.

“I will pray later, okay?” Liyana said reluctantly.

“And why is that?”

“I want to change to my mother's religion.”

“Your father will skin you alive for that,” Sofia warned. “Come on, let’s go pray,” she added, pulling Liyana up.

The two friends headed to the nearest Masjid to offer the obligatory prayer.

Liyana reached home later on and met her mother, Jasveen Shah, doing laundry manually in the compound.

“Hello, Mother,” Liyana saluted, heading inside.

“Where have you been?” the mother’s question stopped Liyana in her tracks. She turned to the mother.

“The neighbor’s fight drove me out, Mother," she declared. “I couldn't focus on my reading. It was super annoying.”

“It's okay. You go in and help me with the dishes, I will join you later to prepare dinner, okay?”

“Fine, Mother,” she accepted and headed inside.

The next day, Liyana was in a hurry to get to class for lectures when she bumped into a guy, falling down her books. His name was Ayaan Syed. He was one kind of a favorite folk on campus. He was a charm to behold. His skin remained flawless coupled with his fairer complexion. He had a spiky smooth textured haircut like most other guys. His hair was silky black. His broad shoulders complemented his physique. He had a well-built gym-going body and was very masculine. Ladies mostly drool at his sight, but despite his charming, good looks, Liyana found his presence a little intimidating. Ayaan was a gentle-natured guy. Not the showy kind. Respectfully, not only to the elders but to the dignity of all women. Above all, he places the interest of people above his. Liyana found herself relinquishing to his sight. She shuddered, moving back to stand her ground. They were something about him that mostly draws her attention. Could it be his good looks? She never cared to think. To fight her weakness, she decided to always act rude or angry whenever she comes in contact with him.

“Oh, Lord!" she exclaimed, frowning with despair. “You should watch where you are going,” she admonished as she hunker down to pick up her books. She was expecting him to join her, but that only happens in movies, she thought.

“Because your books fell doesn't make you a victim. You had bumped into me and I expect an apology from you,” he retaliated.

What does he mean by that? Liyana thought. Perchance, Ayaan wasn't as gentle as he seems. She stood up, glaring at him as he walked passed her.

“I hate you!” she groaned angrily and rushed down to class.

After lectures, Liyana sat with Sofia on a long bench in the campus environment, chatting.

“Today's lectures were choking, I felt like disappearing from class," Liyana quibbled.

“Was that why you had failed in answering the professor's question?” Sofia queried, casting an interrogatory look at her.

“Um, not that, I had a bad start off, Sofia,” Liyana let out. “One son of a gun had angered my spirit earlier. I don't know, but I think I hate him.”

“You hate no creation of Allah, Liyana,” Sofia cleared. “The Qur’an taught us to love, not despise. You just got to tolerate everyone's personality and behavior. Do you get it?”

“Whatever!” Liyana smiled and Sofia shook her head with a chuckle.

At Ayaan’s place, his grandma, whom he lives with was in the sitting room, making a beautiful embroidery on a piece of cloth when Ayaan arrived.

“Salaam alaikum,” he saluted, shutting the door behind him. He had just gone to perform the Ishai namaz.

The grandma responded,” “Walaikum salaam.”

He sat down, lost in thought and looking bothered.

“Why have you been wearing a long face, son? Anything wrong?” the grandma asked, concerned.

“I don't know, naaniji,” he commented. “I tried not to mind, but the ponder keeps bothering me,” he stated, sitting up and entwining his hands in each other. “There is this college mate of mine, naaniji. She always claims to hate me. She is one lady on the whole campus I would point out who loathes my presence. She could be respectful with good manners, a kiddie-like personality, simple in nature, beautiful in appearance, but mostly annoying, especially towards me. Every time we come in contact, the sentence, “I hate you” is what I get. Her words keep rumbling in my head that I found myself overwhelmed sometimes,” Ayaan enunciated.

“Did you wrong her in any way?” the grandma asked, focusing on her grandson than the embroidery.

“Um, not that I can remember, naaniji,” he scratched the back of his head. “To make matters worse, she happened to be my crush. Does that even make sense, naaniji?”

“Then you two must be in love,” the grandma declared.

“I wish not to anymore, naaniji,” he sobbed, relaxing back on the couch.

“You can't ever tell, son. The strongest love started with hatred, remember?”

“I wish it was so with mine. You don't know, naaniji. She can't stand my presence. I see her trembling sometimes and I guess getting angry is the best way to fight off the urge of whatever she was feeling at that moment,” Ayaan stated.

“Don't worry, son, only time shall tell,” the grandma concluded and Ayaan sighed.

A day later, Liyana went to the college library to borrow a novel. She happened to be a friend of the library assistant. The library assistant, Gurkiran, was a Punjabi from India, so when Liyana told her her mother was also a Punjabi, the middle-aged woman liked her especially. Liyana uses the fondness of Gurkiran to borrow home any resources from the library with or without her college ID.

“Hello, Gurkiran ma’am. How are you doing?” Liyana saluted, smiling cheerfully.

“I’m good, Liyana, you?” Gurkiran responded with a broad smile, putting away the record book she was holding in a drawer.

“I'm all right too, Gurkiran, ma'am,” Liyana said, folding her hands behind her back while moving to the woman.

“You need a favor, Liyana, spill it out, I'm all ears.”

Gurkiran could read from the picture. She knew very well when Liyana is seeking out something even though she hadn't said it. Sometimes, Liyana wondered whether Gurkiran had some special ability to read minds, but she never found a chance to ask.

“Right, Gurkiran, ma’am,” Liyana accepted, stopping in her tracks as the woman stood up from her seat behind the desk. “I saw a historical novel two days ago and I promised myself to read it completely, but that wouldn't be possible, having to spend just a few hours in the library. Can you please lend the book to me? I will return it in two or three days.”

“Are you a student of this institution?” Gurkiran asked, looking serious while moving away from Liyana.

“Huh?” Liyana sounded off surprised while following the woman down the bookshelf section. Gurkiran smiled. “Thank God it was a joke,” Liyana said relieved.

“Says who?”

“I know it is.”

They both headed to the shelf to get the book. Liyana specified where she had seen it. Unfortunately, the book was gone.

“It was here,” Liyana said, shifting each book on the shelf to find it.

“What is the novel title?”

“It was titled “The Pakistani Bride.” I know I saw it here beside the “Mottled Dawn”. Who could have taken it?” Liyana uttered, looking sadly at the woman.

“Then a librarian must be reading it,” Gurkiran said, turning to go back to her office.

“Who could that be on such a golden day?” Liyana lamented, going away with the woman.

“Come back another time.”

“That can't be!” Liyana stamp her feet on the floor and Gurkiran looked at her.

“Don’t make noise in the library, Liyana. I will lend you the book the next time you see it, okay?” Gurkiran said and head on to her office.

“This is disappointing!” Liyana muttered to herself. At the exit, Liyana veered around to see those reading and there, she saw the book with Ayaan. “Damn it! Not this son of a gun again. He has crossed his boundary this time. Such an annoying and self-centered somebody,” she lamented and finally stepped out.

Author’s note 🎉🎉🎉

Woohoo 💃💃💃 I started another story again. Thank you all for following me up. This one is going to be a bit tragic, bear that in mind. Don’t worry, the tragedy will be the ending. Happy reading!