5 Chapter 5/Sibling bonding

I woke up to the constant slamming of the doors and cabinets in my house. I can never sleep late on a Saturday morning! My elder brothers were coming for the weekend from their college.

Sure, I am excited to meet them after months, but seriously, they ruin my plans for sleeping in late.

I make a quick work of showering, brushing my teeth, throwing on my plum short dress with black stockings, and drying my hair. I made a decision of dying them jet black once I'm done with High School. Blonde is not my favorite colour, and besides it's way too mainstream.

I take a quick look at the time on the way to the kitchen, where the noises are coming from.

"Helloooooo!" Azaan chirps so loudly as if he is given a mic. I smile, and he pulls me in his embrace.

"Hey back," I reply and he pinches my cheeks.

Azaan is the best brother one could wish for. When he used to live with us before college, he would take me anywhere and anytime, with bombarding me with questions. He always agreed with my opinions, and took my side.

"Where's Hassan?" I ask, scanning the kitchen.

Mother takes off her apron, and replies, "He went straight to the airport. Maira is coming over from Seattle." And with telling that a huge smile appears on her lips.

I jump up and down in excitement. "Really! I thought she wasn't coming for another few days."

Maira and my eldest brother are getting married next month. We've known her since probably forever, as she used to be out neighbor, until recently she moved to Seattle. Her parents and her brother though still live next door.

Azaan plops on the chair, and grins. "She just couldn't wait to see Hassan. Looks like she's way too excited about certain stuff," he jokes, and we all laugh except for mother who 'tsks'

"Stop it, both of you," Mother scolds with a hint of smile on her face.

Millions of lanterns placed in every corner decorated our house. We had invited the close relatives only, with the exception of Hassan's friends' since they weren't exactly appropriate to be around. Growing up with boys has always brought some kind of fun in life—but now that 'fun' wasn't for my or my mother's ears. Those boys had become like lunatics passing around sick jokes, and Hassan seriously didn't want any man ogling his wife. So protective. Must be epic.

I skipped down the stairs, letting my hair bounce up and down, having the most out of life.

Something about a wedding home always sparks excitement inside me, because as my mother is from Pakistan, and I attended a Pakistani wedding twice in my teen life, those functions seem kind of interesting. I know most of my Pakistani 'cool' cousins absolutely despise showing up to weddings and gag about everything, but I think I differ from them due to my lack of experience in weddings.

Now that my brother was getting married, I was beyond delirious.

With a huge goofy grin, I swept towards the door and threw it open, squealing when Maira came into view. Not caring the slightest about her health, I crushed her in my arms and breathed in her scent; vanilla and home. She felt like home.

"Oh my GOSH!" I gushed, pulling back and taking in her new hair with wide eyes. "You really did dye your hair pink!" And it totally matched her funky personality! She looked no less than a rock star ready to rock my lives. Damn, was all I could mumble once again giving her a once over.

"Hello to you too, baby girl!" she laughed. Her bright green forest eyes twinkled with delight, and a big grin broke out on her face.

I could never imagine anyone else in place of her, someone who belonged with Hassan. They were the perfect match for each other. Apart from the MAJOR height difference, she was his total match. I guess Hassan towering over her was kind of cute, and although she was older than me by three years, I sometimes looked older than her because of my tall height as well. Everyone in my family is tall.

"You've grown taller. Last time I saw you, you were 5'5!" Maira said, shrugging out of her black cloak, just when Hassan shut the door and locked it. He faced us and winked at me, clearly on cloud nine now that his to-be-wife was officially in our house. Being the real mature I am, I stuck out my tongue at him. He chuckled, shaking his head at my childish behavior.

I linked arms with Maira and led her towards the living room. "I am 5'6 and a half now. Pretty cool, right?" Most girls at my age ranged between 5'3 to 5'5. And Aarib could easily be above 6'2.

Aarib? What the heck? Where did he come from?

I shook my head to clear the fog and commanded myself to shoo away the weird feeling that settled inside me when his name popped up.

Mama gasped from where she was ironing the clothes at one corner of the room. Abandoning everything, she all but sprinted across the room and embraced Maira in her motherly arms, also squeezing the life out of her.

I get comfortable on the sofa beside my brother and watch the emotional encounter taking place between the two sentimental women. "Women. . ." I fake muttered, shaking my head on a heavy sigh.

"Indeed," Hassan agreed, making me grin. I loved him. Gosh. I could never ask for any better brothers' in my life.