hmm engaged? Fingers crossed. Nice 1 kip it up.

Becketh: hmm engaged? Fingers crossed. Nice 1 kip it up.

Hmmm. I can see you're enjoying your independence.

Waiting to see how it will end...

Hello deiok?

Deiok: I thought Aariz doesnt believe too much in God or so i thought.

And why will komal father want his assistant to marry his daughter, when she is not too old to still be single. Me thinks he wants a man that will be his son-inlaw and thesame time be incharge of his firm.

Well nice one as always.

Pakistanis (or should I say Muslims) have a tradition of getting their daughters engaged at a very tender age when the right proposal comes.

Its not like in Naija where a Lady will be 28 and her parents are not worried about her being single .

Becketh: hmm engaged? Fingers crossed. Nice 1 kip it up.

Glad u r enjoying it

harlos: Waiting to see how it will end...

Hello deiok?

It's not ending so soon

harlos: Waiting to see how it will end...

Hello deiok?

Hey mr Harlos, hw is your body now?

'Sikander Riza, the ruler', as her father privately dubbed him, was second-in-command of the company her father had built into one of the largest in U.K.

Well bred, educated, and well off in his own right, he had joined it from one of their main competitors, and had qucikly became Managing Director. He had eyesight fixed on the stars. Getting to the top was his prime ambition, and he was intelligent and hardworking enough to be well on the way there.

"I thank the day Sikander joined me," Her father often used to say. "It will be hard replacing him if he leaves."

If her father hadn't thrown him at her as a suitable husband from the time she was sixteen, she might have found him tolerable. But knowing he was regarded as a surrogate son had made her react against him.

How and when it had all started?" She could still recall very well. After all, it was her sixteenth birthday

Now, that was another thing that had turned out to be 'bitter sixteen' for her instead of a 'sweet sixteen' one.

"Hello Komal, enjoying yourself?" He had asked in a typical, casual voice. Impeccable in grey dinner jacket and black trousers that emphasized his physique, his pale grey eyes regarded her unblinkingly.

"Very much, and you?" She asked back formally.

He nodded.

"May I have a word with you in private?"

Short of being rude, she couldn't refuse, and stifling her impatience, she preceded him into her father's study.

What on earth did he want? Impatiently she tapped one small foot as he went to standby the fireplace.

"You're leaving for college on Monday, I believe." He said conversationally.

"Yes."

"Then I'm glad I can speak to you tonight. I'm going abroad for a while, and this is the only chance I'll have of seeing you until your holidays."

So what?" She thought irritably. She hardly saw him anyway.

"A little birthday gift," He said, holding it out. "I didn't want to put it with the others in the hall."

Taking a flat, square black box from his hand, Komal opened it slowly and gasped.

On a bed of black velvet lay an excellent necklace of real, true pearls all arranged evenly. Involuntarily, Komal brought a finger to touch the brightly colored pearls.

She loved it at first sight, although hated the fact that Sikander was giving it. However, she didn't let her feelings reveal through her face.

"Thank you, it's a nice one." She said.

"I'm glad you like it," He said tonelessly.

Komal was about to turn away from him when his voice gripped her feet.

"I'd like you to accept it as a combined birthday and engagement present." He went on. "To me, it seemed premature to buy a ring until you've given me your answer."

Speechlessly she stared at him.

"I'm asking you to marry me." He added.

He couldn't be serious!

But his expression showed he was, and the very idea infuriated her into replying.

"We hardly know each other. I've never even been out with you!"

"We've known each other for two years; I've seen you most times I've dinner here."

"Karim, our butler sees me everyday." She rejoined, referring to their servant. "But I don't expect him to propose to me!"

He swallowed but said nothing.

"I know exactly why you want to marry me, and it's got nothing to do with love." She said firmly without much expression.

"You're sure about that?"

"Actions speak louder than words, and yours can hardly be called lover-like!" She railed.

For several seconds Sikander remained silent, the increasig dark complexion of his skin being the only sign of anger. "I don't need to marry to secure dynasty, Komal. I'm quite capable of securing my own."

"Come off it," She retorted. "This company is ready made for you."

"What makes you certain I don't love you?" He countered, ignoring her comment.

"They way you behave, as I said, you've never even asked me out before."

"A mistake, I agree. But only because I thought you were too young to....."

"But mature enough to be your wife." She cut in sacarstically.

He took a very long breath and then said,

"But I'm honest....."

"Yes, no doubt about that. You've always been honest to your business, an excellent businessman and I'm just another piece of business to you! Only there's one thing you've forgotten."

"Which is?"

"That I can't be bought or taken over! Now if you don't mind, my friends are waiting for me."

Turning in her heel, she stalked out.

She hoped she had not come across too flat. But she had to be honest with him, and with herself. She glanced at Sikander as he came to join the guests once again; his face again spotless and without any expression, like nothing had happened at all.

One never knew with him. He rarely showed much expression, while she was an open book.

Same night, her father had announced in private that he'd want her to marry Sikander. He didn't actually force his decision but it was clear that Sikander was his only choice, and then it was not very easy for Komal to ignore or reject him specially when she had no one else in her mind.

"I'd want you to consider Sikander as the first man in your list, when the time comes." Her father had said.

"We've nothing in common." She protested.

"Sure you have, he likes this country. Like you, he is not conservative, and he's interested in art; same as you."

"You must be joking Dad! He's never even talked about love to me."

"When have you given him the chance? As soon as you see him, you rush off as if your tail's on fire."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning is clear. Spend time with him; try to understand each other. That's what a successful marriage needs." Her father said finally.

Komal tried picturing being married to him, no highs, no lows, no quarrels and no passion.

How boring!

Not that she had ever actually fancied him! They were too disparate: he was cold where she was warm, analytical where she was intuitive and reserved where she was impulsive.

Deiok: Hey mr Harlos, hw is your body now?

Is Harlos sick?

Wow!!!

I'm so tensed wen I'm reading through dis wonderful,great,influential,emotional,touching story of urs.

U really av it in U dear and THANK U 4being discover it.

More inks.......ma'am

horlah005: Wow!!!

I'm so tensed wen I'm reading through dis wonderful,great,influential,emotional,touching story of urs.

U really av it in U dear and THANK U 4being discover it.

More inks.......ma'am

Thnx. Glad u r enjoying it.

If only u knw hw i feel reading ds,den u wnt want 2 pause a moment.more ideas 2 ur brain

Rily lovely one...tnx 4 taking me 2 Pakistan @least I cn say I've der nw more grease 2 ur elbow

Nice one. I like the way you put in this flash back.

underage:

Is Harlos sick?

Yeah, he was having a little malaria,. But i think he is ok now.

*speechless*

Thanks guys for all ur comments, they keep me going. Please don't forget to advice or criticise or make any other suggestions and observation.

@Harlos, hp u r feeling much beta nw.

Update coming up next

Her friend Mawara always used to inquire about Sikander, in the same way good friends tease their friends about their spouse-to-be, but suprisingly Komal never felt any heart-throbbing emotion for him whenever Mawara talked about him.

"What about this guy of yours?" Mawara had once asked.

"Sikander? What about him?"

"How's he?"

"Not bad I guess." Komal began to polish her nails carelessly. "He is always busy with his business stuff you know."

"Komal, are you happy with this relationship?" Mawara's question was sudden and unexpected.

"Which one?"

"Come on, I mean your relationship with him."

"Miss Mawara..." Komal said quickly, forgetting her nails for a while. "For your information, we don't have any relationship yet. We're not even engaged officially and properly."

"Okay....okay." Mawara raised her hand, stopping her from saying more. "I mean, are you happy with what your father said about him being your future husband?"

"Yeah I'm. Am I not supposed to be?"

"But do you love him?"

"Listen my friend. The set up to which we eastern girls belong doesn't give us much choice. We have to obey our parents, no matter if their choice suits us or not, and I'm no different. But really I'm happy. I have left everything to God. I'm sure He will do well with us."

"But that's not the answer of my question." Mawara shook her head in frustration.

"I asked, do you love him?" Mawara glared at her.

"I'll try to love him definitely. Like most Pakistani girls do after marriage." She laughed coldly.

"I know." Mawara took a cold breath. "He is not your ideal."

"Yeah, but I don't think it matters alot. He is too cold to be my ideal. I like friendly, charming men, who could give me full attention and care. But Sikander doesn't have much time for me." Komal said blankly.

"But he can change." Mawara argued.

"Change?" Komal raised her brows in a gesture of disbelief. "Don't you know, a woman marries a man expecting he will change, but he doesn't, while a man marries a woman expecting that she won't change, but she does." She laughed, but at Mawara, it clearly looked like an artificial act.

"Why? He looks so nice."

"Did I say he's not?" Komal's tone was colder this time. "He sure is a very nice 'business man'. My father can't trust any wrong person for his business and........well for his daughter."

"Know what Komal?" Mawara gave her a friendly look. "Value this relationship. You are lucky that your parents have seen some nice man for you in this bad era when most girls are still waiting for good proposals.

"I don't care about that." Shaking her hair, Komal had finally said.

After that birthday incident, Sikander talked to Komal only one more time on the topic, and she could guess that is was more of her father's wish that made him to talk about the same topic again.

It was four months after her birthday that they met on the dinning table, alone in her house.

"Hello Komal." As usual his soft voice was devoid of any expression.

"Hi."

"I wanted to know your answer."

"You already had one, if I am not forgetting."

He drank the glass of mineral water, without looking at her; his eyes seemed almost robotic.

"You didn't give me a clear cut reply." He said as he gulped down the cold water.

"Oh." Her brows rose automatically. "I thought you were wise enough to....."

"It is wise enough to have clear cut answers in such important matters instead of wasting time playing tricks and games." He cut in sharply, and for the first time she thought he was finally going to lose his temper.

"I'm not playing any tricks or games Mr. Sikander."

"Why?" As he spoke, she could note the mild amusement glistening from his eyes. "I suppose you're still young enough to play games."

"Yeah, thay's why you were proposing to me the other day." She laughed with sheer satire.

"I didn't say that we were getting married on the very next day." He said, now once again back to his cold, plain style.

"I'm sorry." She replied quickly. She had decided not to waste her time, energy and mind by talking with such man who was well-known for his 'business stamina' and 'talking energy'.

"The answer is 'no'." She finally said.

He looked unaffected, like he had already guessed it.

"May I ask why?"

She didn't reply, just brushed her lips with the fragrant tissue paper and got up to leave.

"Do you hate me?" He asked suddenly.

She thought for few moments, and then came to conclusion that she had, infact, no feelings for him. No love, no hate.

"No." She said and reached near the room window.

"Do you find me repulsive then?"

His question startled her, and almost without realizing it she made a physical inventory of him, accepting again that some women would admit the tall, lean figure and the dark precise features.

"I simply feel 'nothing' for you Mr. Sikander."

"Would you mind telling me the reason?" He asked again.

"That's because your character's like an iceberg most of the time---three quarters hidden!" She told him.

"Ice bergs melt, given sufficient warmth." He whispered.

She pretended not to hear and stared through the window as if she had never seen England before.

"I hope you've got what you wanted to know." She said turning, and then seeing no response from him, she turned on her heels and walked out of the room.

Since then, they never talked about it again. Their conversation had always been very formal and couldn't increase more than typical 'hello and hi'.

me like bt its short na nywaz tnx,u doing pretty good

I appreciate ur work but the updates are nt like before and they lack the suspense that was common in the early episodes...but above all nice work nd more power to ur elbow

Nice.

This is superb. Patiently waiting for the next update.

Hi underage, i'm very well and better now thanks

Deiok i was sick and now i'm better

@the story, i read two update at once and it was interesting, can you make it two at a time

Hey guys, sorry for not updating earlier. I will update soon.

Meanwhile, thanks all for being here.

@Harlos, glad to hear you are better now.

"If your dog is barking at the back door and your wife yelling at the front door, who do you let in first?" Shaheryaar asked Aariz with a very serious expression on his face.

"My wife ofcourse." Aariz said, shrugging his shoulders. "What about you?"

"The dog." Shaheryaar told hin thoughtfully. "Atleast he'll shut up after you let him in."

His gesture and expression made Aariz laugh. He had just arrived in Shaheryaar's apartment a few minutes ago, with a hope that his old friend could give him some considerable suggestion on his matter regarding Komal. But, from what looked Shaheryaar's mood, it won't be so easy.

"You've become so lazy." He slapped him playfully. "Don't you like to do any work?"

"I like work. It fascinates me. I can sit and look at it for hours." Shaheryaar said with a lazy smile. It was almost 12 p.m, and he was still lying on his bed.

"Try some exercise." Aariz suggested sincerely.

"Well.....I've already thought about that." Shaheryaar said. "But everytime I get the urge to exercise, I lie down till the feeling passes."

"Hardwork never hurts anybody." Aariz told him with artificial anger, pushing the heavy pillow away from Shaheryaar's sleepy face.

"But why take the chance?" Shaheryaar replied quickly and pulled the pillow back to his face.

He was really being funny today.

"Come on. Get a life." Aariz called him, shaking his shoulder.

"Why not a wife?" Shaheryaar asked in return, his eyes still closed.

"Why don't you get married, Shaheryaar?" Aariz asked, now really getting into the mood with his friend.

"You can't be serious." Shaheryaar asked in a tone like he didn't believe Aariz could suggest something like that. "I don't think any girl would be willing to marry a man like me."

"Why not." Aariz raised his brows. "You can give an 'ad' in a newspaper classified, saying 'Wife Wanted'. I'm sure you'd recieve hundred of letters in response."

"Yeah, letters from husbands instead. All saying the same thing, 'You can have mine'."

His statement made Aariz smile again.

You can do some searching. I can support you, if you're really serious." He gave him a sincere suggestion.

"I don't feel like doing anything for a while." Shaheryaar yawned lazily.

"But at least you can start thinking about that." Aariz gave him a serious look. "When there's a will, there is a way."

"I don't agree." Shaheryaar replied, closing his eyes sleepily. "Where there's a will, there are five hundred relatives."

Although, Aariz tried, but it was impossible to remain serious at his spontaneous remark.

"You apartment looks so dirty." Aariz said unpleasantly, looking around to see a pile of dirty socks with scattered cloths and dirt everywhere.

"Well, I did clean my house yesterday, sure wish you could have seen it." Shaheryaar said thoughtfully.

"Shall I award you a trophy for that?"

"No." Shaheryaar opened his right eye while keeping his left one closed. "I already have many."

"Shaheryaar....." Aariz got nearer, his voice almost turned to whisper. "There's a secret I want to tell you. It's just between you and me."

"Don't worry." Shaheryaar assured him "Your secrets are safe with me and all my friends."

Before he could finish his sentence, Aariz threw a heavy sofa cushion toward him, which made him rise from his bed finally.

"Okay, okay man. Give me some minutes." Shaheryaar said, putting his feet into his slippers and then turned toward the washroom.

Feeling bored, Aariz picked the newspaper from the table and began glancing at the headlines.

"What brings you here so early in the morning?" Shaheryaar asked as he entered the room after few minutes.

Aariz nearly killed him with eyes on his 'early in the morning'.

"Well..... I needed some advice."

"Yeah, you can take mine, I'm not using it." He said, rubbing his hair roughly with his towel.

"Do you ever get serious?" Aariz asked frustrated.

"Only when you're not." Shaheryaar added. "Okay man, I stop now. What's the problem?" His face became so serious that if someone saw him at the moment, he couldn't believe that this was the same man who was continously joking around just few seconds ago.

"You already know the problem." Aariz combed his long, slender fingers through his silky, shiny hair. "Sectarian differences in marriage."

"Oh." Shaheryaar sighed aloud, pouring hot tea into the cups from thermos.

"Well, my friend." Shaheryaar handed him a steaming cup and then sank into the easy chair in front of him. "That certainly is a big problem."

"What's the solution?" Aariz bit his lower lip. "I've been thinking but seems like my mind has stopped working." He exclaimed helplessly.

"You know you're getting old when you stop to think and forget to start again." Shaheryaar told him with a mild trace of amusement in his eyes and then said,

"Well, to be frank with you my dearest friend, my sincere and honest advice is......." Shaheryaar left his sentence unfinished to take a fine sip of his tea. "You should drop this idea. In our society setup, you can't break the hard rules."

"Is that a challenge?"

"No.....just a plain, simple reality." Shaheryaar said, sipping his tea slowly. "Even if your parents allow that to happen, things are going to become even more complicated after your marriage."

"Meaning?"

"Such disputed marriages produce confused and frustrated kids. They find themselves caught between two different school of thoughts." Shaheryaar said thoughtfully.

"Well, that's not so hard." Aariz said, lost in his deep thoughts. "Children can always choose the right way on their own wish. I'd not want my chidren to adopt my faith reluctantly. If they think their mother's sect is good for them, that's fine with me." He shrugged his shoulders.

"I see." Shaheryaar nodded thoughtfully. "Perhaps you need a second opinion on that?"

"What?" Aariz didn't quite understand what he meant.

"Finished with the tea?" Shaheryaar looked at him, asking for confirmation. On Aariz's nod, he motioned him to stand up.

"Follow me, we need to meet someone."

"Who?" Aariz rose.

"You'd know." Shaheryaar told him and preceded him out of his apartment.

"Stop this nonsense Shaheryaar." Aariz yelled, looking displeased at his action. "I came here only for your suggestion."

"Listen Aariz." Shaheryaar turned toward him in a gesture of seriousness. "You're my friend and before you take the most important decision of your life, it's my duty to inform you about its possible consequences."

"But where are we going?" Aariz asked, as he followed Shaheryaar.

"Just to the neighbouring block. That's a walking distance from here."

Five minutes later, Shaheryaar was ringing the doorbell of another apartment.

The door opened and a man in his late thirties with a moustache and tight face, emerged from inside, his features softening rapidly as he saw Shaheryaar.

"Oh, nice to see you, Shaheryaar." He smiled at Shaheryaar, taking him into his arms.

"Sameer, this is my best friend Aariz Ali."

"That makes him my friend too." He hugged him too, smiling affectionately.

"Please make yourself comfortable." Sameer told them as he led them toward his drawing room.

"You two sit here, I'd be back in a few minutes." He said softly and then left.

"What's all this supposed to mean?" Aariz was still confused at Shaheryaar's mysterious behaviour.

"Sameer is the son of my father's close friend." Shaheryaar said. "A product of an inter-sectarian 'Shiyah-Sunni' marriage." He gave Aariz a meaningful smile.

"Oh!" Only then Aariz understood the purpose behind visiting Sameer.

"It doesn't make any difference for me."

"May be not for you." Shaheryaar whispered as they heard the sound of approaching footsteps. "But for others, it does."

Sameer returned with a tray of cold drinks and snacks in his hands.

"So what brings you here at this time?" Sameer asked gently as he sat opposite them, as he placed the tray on a center table.

"Sameer, we wanted to talk about something important." Shaheryaar said as he held the glass of soft drink in his hand.

"What can I do for you?" Sameer asked in a friendly tone.

"As you told me that you're a product of an inter-sectarian marriage." Shaheryaar gazed deeply at Sameer, taking first sip of his drink. "A Shiyah-Sunni marriage right?"

"Yes." He gave a short answer.

"What do you think about the future of such marriages?" Shaheryaar asked gently as he set the cup down.

"Hopeless." Sameer said without any expression on his face. "Miserable."

Aariz frowned and chewed anxiously on his bottom lip.

"Why do say so?" Aariz asked, keeping his tone light.

"Personal experience." Sameer turned toward him, a rigid smile playing on his lips. " We're total of four siblings, two sisters and two brothers. Our Mom is Sunni while Father is Shiyah."

"Was it a love marriage?' Shaheryaar asked.

"Ofcourse." Sameer sighed coldly. "Our society still avoids arranging such troubles."

"My father revolted against his parents and married my mother who was his class fellow in his University." Sameer began to say.

"There were objections on both sides. My mother's parents cut off completetly from her as soon as she got married. On the other hand, my father's relatives did a social boycott of the newly wed couple. Gradually they became isolated. Just after one year when the intoxication of love began to fade away, my parents realized it was a big mistake for being so selfish, without caring about their parents' happiness." Sameer told then in detail.

"It's not just that." He lowered his head, his face showing painful expressions. "Since the beginning of our childhood, we came across the most weird situations. These social-religious conflicts always kept us confused. In Ramadan (fasting period), my mother used to do iftaar (breaking of fast) ten minutes before my father did accoriding to her sect and this made us think about how and with whom to break our fast. With our father or with our mother?"

As Sameer spoke, Aariz sat upright, tense and still watching his profile intently. Sameer looked like a tensed man. His voice was impatient, irritated and his face matched his tone.

"Oh that's really sad." Shaheryaar exclaimed, feeling really bad for this guy.

Sameer's voice was even lower now, he looked somewhat defeated and tired.

"We always kept wondering whose method of prayer was right. Either our father's, who used to leave his arms straight or our mother's, who always crossed them while praying?" He laughed sarcastically.

"In Muharram (first month of the islamic calendar), it was even more tough." Sameer added roughly, gulping his drink. "My mother used to wear red and pink cloths, used to do make-up as usual but my father wore black cloths, as those were the days of mourning for him."

"Frustration increased." He continued in the same rough and harsh tone. "My mother's perspective about islamic principles and history was totally different from my father's. She believed in 'Caliphs' after Prophet but my father accepted 'Imams' after Prophet."

"I often ask this question. What was our fault?" Sameer's voice became a little louder. "We're still confused and frustrated and both of my sisters are still waiting for appropriate proposals."

"Waiting for proposals?" Aariz couldn't get his point.

"This damn society won't let them get married because they are considered of 'mixed' religious orientation without any certain school of thought." Sameer's voice acquired an emotional tone. "Families come to our house, many times they have really liked my sisters for their guys, but as soon as they get to know that our parents don't belong to the same community, they apologize and leave and then never come back."

"So what do you suggest?" Shaheryaar asked, observing him keenly. "Should one really go for such marriage?"

Sameer gave them a wounded smile combined with a hard look like he couldn't believe if one could still ask such a question. He first looked at Shaheryaar and then at Aariz.

"I'm a victim of this terrible thing." He said harshly. "How can I suggest something so stupid and dangerous?"

On his meaningful sentence, Aariz averted his eyes away.

"It would be a big blunder. Even if your parents agree, problems would definitely arise as your children grow up. Also, when your chidren reach marriage age, things would become even worse, when nobody would be ready to marry his offspring to this mixed and impure generation of yours."

"So, you think one's love should be sacrified for the sake of his religion and parents, huh?" Aariz asked suddenly in a rough voice. His tone was so strange that Shaheryaar turned toward him to see if something was wrong with him.

Sameer looked at Aariz for a few seconds, smiled and said,

"Brother, as far as I know.......love itself is a name of scarifice. We've this famous saying of the Holy Prophet that 'if you make your parents angry, you make your Allah angry'. It's also a matter of love. There're standards and grades of love. We love our parents, friends, spouses, girlfriends. Now the point to be decided is that which love is the greatest and should be preferred over the other? Is your love for your parents greater than your love for you beloved or not? Do you love your parents the most? Parents.......who gave birth to you, the reason for you being in this world, who raised you, brought you up, facing difficulties and hardships for your comforts, feeling pain for your pleasure......... Or do you have more love for you girlfriend, who is beautiful, smart and sexy and you two have met just a few moments ago?"

Shaheryaar gave a sideway glance to Aariz, who sat there silent, looking visibly tensed.

"If ever time comes." Sameer was not finished yet. "You should always be prepared to give sacrifice of your lesser love for a greater one. That's the whole philosophy of love, in my personal opinion."

"I.....I suppose we should better leave now." Aariz stammered weakly. It was too much for him.

"Well, thank you very much, Sameer." Shaheryaar said, finally rising from the sofa.

"That was a good try from you." Aariz gave Shaheryaar a harsh look as they came out into fresh air.

"Listen friend........." Shaheryaar turned slowly to glare at his face. "As a friend, it's my duty to inform you about the possible consequences of the step you're about to take."

"I just wanted your advice and that's all."

"In that case." Shaheryaar said plainly. "I'd advise, stop yourself.

"Impossible!" Aariz's voice was firm, his attitude unshaken. "We've gone too far. We can't stop now."

Okay guys, that's it. Your comments are highly welcomed. Please tell me what you feel about the story so far. How do you feel abt the characters and so on.

I would also like to inform you that dere will be updates dis weekend, by God's grace.

Thnx and I luv u all

This one is really tough as i got confused at a point.

You are always on point with ur updates making it more interesting. Keep it up dear

Aariz is in love already and it is not going to be easy for him to just change his mind,and his friend shaheryaar i think made the best move by taking him to someone that is a product of such marriage. Hope he will listen sha

That's a nice piece u've just delivered.
When I read d previous upd8 I thot it wasn't suspense filled bt going back nd reflecting on it...I've come to see that ur story is just unique in it's own way,dt keeps one's mind busy making up all possible 'case scenarios'.
Also,I'd like to know what inspired u to write ds story, 'cos occurrences like the one u're describing r very common in today's world.#smhs for komal nd Aariz,eeyah !

Nice one and thanks for the update.

If i may say, i think the story just got complicated, Komal engagement is not only the problem here, infact its a minor problem compare to the sectarian issue. If i were to be aariz i will simply follow my heart against sameer's advice that the love of the parents are greater than the love of his belove.
And mind you were there is love, no matter what they can tolerate each other.

And it seems like the story is just starting.

keep d flag flying

harlos: This one is really tough as i got confused at a point.

You are always on point with ur updates making it more interesting. Keep it up dear

Aariz is in love already and it is not going to be easy for him to just change his mind,and his friend shaheryaar i think made the best move by taking him to someone that is a product of such marriage. Hope he will listen sha

Thnx. I hope he listens too