24/04/2022
“1995.
I was 16. He was 17.
We saw each other for the first time in front of Copper Kettle in Liberty Market Lahore. He was a friend of my cousin’s and they met briefly while I waited next to the car. He thought I looked like a snob and I thought he seemed too chummy.
So “hmph” teenage moment!
We met off and on with the cousin but never got along. Snob vs too chummy didn’t stand a chance!
1997.
I was 18. He was 19.
I was in my BA 3rd year. He still hadn’t completed his A levels...moment of silence there.
I took his number from the same cousin and called him one night in June to talk about something pestering me. Something I knew only he could help with. Incidentally he was alone at home and free.
So, as fate would have it, the snob girl and the chummy boy ended up chatting the entire night. Something which is quite a heroic achievement in the times of one landline a house. That too in the TV lounge and Amma Abba’s surveillance at its peak.
Bharpoor taaliaan!
The next few days we ( separately in our own lives) couldn’t help but think of how well we got along in that one chat. It was actually as comfortable as chuddy buddies.
So. A few days later I, the cheeti ( as my sister called me later) called him again! From the same landline ( it was an orange phone I still remember that. I still remember his phone number also) and from the same TV lounge. Guess what? Yes! Another all night chat. But drop scene yeh huwa ke meri walida mohtarima aa gayeen subha 5 bajay. She didn’t exactly figure out what was happening but of course antennas were up. And Mr Rana ki to sitti gum ho gayee (which he told me later). He said he walked outside on the road at 5 am for hours panicking that I may be in trouble.
Later in the day he walked to a PCO to call and check if all is well. The phone kept ringing and shutting until I picked it up. And a voice said “Sarah?” I said “ uhh no” He said “just wanted to check are you ok?” I said “Yes”.
Relief for him.
Giddy smile for me,
And that was it.
Two telephone conversations later we were both 100% certain that we wanted to get married.
Why?
Because it was just so easy to talk to each other. We are the absolute opposites when it comes to personalities, like & dislikes, habits and general approach to things. But, we were both so sure. The kind of bond we had was special, and we couldn’t let go of it. 23 years later, this one fact still holds true.
Acha jee. Ayen na zara practical zindagi main. Jag jayen thora. 19 sala Hero A levels kar raha hai. Theek hai na? Interest kis cheez main hai? Theatre main. Operation theatre nahin. Drama wala theatre. Theek ho Gaya? Heroine BA kar rahee hai. 3 sisters and an EXTREMELY strict and conservative household. Fauji abba. Elder sister engaged. Matlab ke next in line to get married and Amma Abba completely clear on the fact that 1 acha rishta and baat done and beti ko tata bye bye. Parhayee etc sab 2nd priority.
Kher. Nazreen waqt ka pahiyya chalta raha. BA ho gaya. Lekin hero A levels main fail ho gaya. Bijlian gir gayeen armaanon par. His result came out the day my best friend was getting married. Crying my eyes out was easy because it got camouflaged behind my missing her. Everyone thought she was so lucky to have me as her best friend
My Masters degree began and he enrolled in a local foundation course for an external degree.
My elder sister got married matlab tamaam topon ka rukh kahani ki heroine ki taraf. Rishtay atay rahay lekin waapis bhee bhee rahay, Shukar Alhamdullillah! Never did rejection feel so good!
1999.
He told his mother kyunke bairooni maddad ki zaroorat par chukki thee. Aik rishta serious ho gaya tha. Army Captain. I wonder where he is now...ok. Focus. His mother was super supportive. I collected the himmat to confide in my mother. Jhaar pari lekin qayamat nahin ayee. Baree hee maharat se donon walidas to milwaya. Makhan lagaya. Kiya nahin Kiya. They both said ok we will help you. Plan yeh tha ke my Ami will defer potential rishtas and his mother will bring the rishta as soon as he nears graduation and can talk to Abu with some grace.
Took a promise from us that we strictly follow boundaries.
No exclusive meetings.
No one should be able to see us together.
No compromise on this.
And we remained true to our word.
Now when I think of it I feel SO good about us.
I kept studying. He tried studying and kept doing theatre. Started debate coaching with the initial pay of Rs. 5000.
2000.
My Masters done. Itni parhi likhi qabil heroine. Hero ka final year. Finally!!! Rishta aa gaya and came the million dollar question “yeh larka Akhir karta kiya hai?!” Start of a new era of daily discussions and many at times fights of Abu saying this is insane and Ami supporting me ( how sweet).
2001.
Finally a graduate. Hero found a job of 13000 Rs. Wasn’t great but I was ready to marry an unemployed man to Yeh to lottery thee. I started working. With almost the same pay...and Somehow, after two years of convincing and case pleading we got engaged on the 1st of January 2002. By far that day is, even now, the happiest day of my life. If anyone asks me that question, the first image that pops in my head is that night. It was surreal...honestly it was just meant to be. There was nothing going in our favour but somehow it happened.
Understanding yeh huwee the shadi araaam Se ho gee. Obviously hero was 23 years old!!! But dekhain, dulhan 22 kee thee na...and that’s OLD in a conservative, Punjabi family. To naya katta khul gaya na. My parents wanted it over and done with ASAP and his parents were reluctant. I can understand both sides but qeema kis ka bun raha tha? Aik saal main tension peak par pohanch gayee aur wohee huwa jo filmi stories main hota hai. Hero ko laga unn ke Amma Abba ki “insult” ho rahee hai and unhon ne mangni tor dee... jee haan!!!
🥁🥁🥁
Lekin heroine ki dhittayee par to medal banta hai. ( My sister suggested that I should talk to Abu. Matlab ke khud kush Hamla). Aadhi raat ko ja kar Abba ko jagaya aur bhaaan bhaaan kar ke dukhi kahani sunayee. Felix felicious feeling thee seriously. He heard me. And somehow promised to take care of everything. And he did. Date set ho gayee. Aglay saal ki! 365 days later. That one year was torturous. Because both set of parents were extremely upset with each other and both of us were constantly playing peace makers with one goal. Countdown to 365 days...it was exhausting!
But main ne bhoolne nahin diya hero ko ke mangni main ne jori. Jee Haan. Pehli call bhee main ne hee kee thee. I’m sure he mutters under his breath “why did you?”.
Acha jee six months before the big day, Mr Rana decided to quit his job and pursue acting. Chalo jee. Naya sayapa. To huwa Kiya? Everyone discouraged him. Except me. But he wanted to satisfy his parents and went to UAE for a job hunt. Nope. No luck. Came back and announced that whatever it takes I am going to pursue my first love. Theatre and acting. And there was no turning back. Nautankee it was!Amma Abba told me clearly ke soch lo. There is no certainty or future for theatre or acting in Pakistan. All my life I’ve been answering the wretched question “So what does he ACTUALLY do?” Lekin kahan jee. Nothing hits home when you’re in “lurvvve”. He assured me that he will make me the happiest girl on earth. I believed him.
2003.
To kar li shaadi.
We were the happiest people alive. I honestly have seen VERY few couples as happy on their wedding day as we were. We were actually on cloud 9. Ready to take on anything that life brings. Anything.
Early marriage days were an absolute dream come true. We felt that all hardships are behind us and we have conquered everything in life. If we can do this, whatever life brings will be easy! Life with him for me actually meant a fairy tale. I was the stupid, naive, day dreaming princess and he was my Prince Charming, equally young and naive. He was supposed to whisk me away from a life of curfews, restrictions and boundaries to a house where I could paint the town red! From the house that didn’t allow me to laugh loudly and clap without a reason to a house where dancing to random songs was daily routine. Without any occasion or reason.
The fact that we paid for a 2 day stay at PC Bhurban with our salamis was a matter of pride for us. We still talk about how we sat down on day 3 and counted if we can stay another night, which we couldn’t and came back.
Happily.
The first few months were like a daze. With no luxuries but plain joy. We had so much fun. Just being together. Nothing mattered. Driving to work in the morning chatting chirpily, watching TV with dinner, going for groceries. Finding joy in the smallest of moments. Will our car ( a 3rd hand Alto) start or not in the morning was a daily bet of ours. The fact that our entire pay ( both) was spent completely on basic necessities was a matter of pride for us. Watching late night movies with a pizza was an absolute luxury!
I was willing to face anything with him. For him. When our car’s windshield smashed during a toofan we didn’t have extra cash. Omair won 10000 Rs at a theatre festival the very next week and we got it repaired. Drove around for days with no windshield and we still laugh about it 🙂
But things started going downhill a few months later. My super comfortable relationship with my mother in law turned bitterly toxic, for reasons incomprehensible to me ( at least then).
My 29 year old elder sister suffered a brain hemorrhage in UK and was in the hospital for months. In and out of surgeries before coming around but her movement was affected for life.
My parents and younger sister went on rotation to be with her while I stayed back because I was “someone else’s wife” now so he was supposed to take decisions for me. Finances became a big issue so I took tuitions to save money and go visit her.
Omair found a better job and kept doing some TV work on the side but it was a struggle with nothing to fall back on. My heart would be with my sister but I would act jolly because “ghar ka mahaul kharab hota hai”. He decided to study and applied to LUMS for an MBA and started preparing for GMAT, which meant greater financial stress one me. But I stood by him. He didn’t get in ( a behteri in hind sight). The constant stress affected my gynea system... I actually didn’t feel like having a child because I was just so unhappy...and the uncertainty of life, my sister’s health, my parent’s stress and his career had started getting to me. But it had been three “LONG” years, and that gullible version of me caved in to pressure and we started treatment. What followed was two years of scans and injections and tablets and all the side effects that come with it.
2007.
Eventually, an IUI worked and Rayaan came along. In bitter reality Rayaan was my clean chit in the eyes of the society that I am “complete”. I did not feel any gushing love for him. Omair on the other hand was over the moon! He has not loved anyone like he’s loved Rayaan. He is born to be a father. And that was a blessing, because Rayaan got the love he deserved from Baba while Amma was busy fighting her battles. The toxic relationship with my mother in law turned unbearable, I almost had a nervous breakdown and we moved out. It was ugly.
Omair didn’t have a job at this time. We had an infant and no worldly possessions at all except my jewellery and bedroom furniture. Fun fact: I had no jahez. Omair’s family made is 100% clear that there will be no jahez. Full marks to them there.
In these 4 years the ONLY thing that kept me sane was Omair, his humour, and our friendship. In these years we became even closer friends than before. He would listen to me silently if ever I felt like venting my heart out. Mostly I tried to keep it in because I didn’t want to upset him. Just silent hand holding was so comforting when he didn’t have any words of tassalli for me. He didn’t share his stress because HE didn’t want to stress me out.(This is when I realized strongly how the man is the worst hit in a conflict between his wife and mother. Made a mental note of never ever letting my son go through this. I hope I remember this by the time that time comes)).
We cared for each other as friends before anything else and kept going...We have always been more of friends than anything else.
Something that caused huge problems later because married people need to be husband and wife, behave like a couple, argue like a couple and demand stuff like a couple. But we thought as long as we can communicate openly, make each other laugh, never dream of hurting the other and never go to bed angry, all is well.
This man has made me laugh at the toughest of times and has always ALWAYS been kind. That alone is something I cannot thank Allah enough for.
2008.
This marked the year for us actually starting from scratch. I sold some of my jewellery to buy furniture (Something I confided in Omair much later and he still hates this fact) crockery and appliances. We used up all of our savings. We set up a two room portion far away from the city which we called home for two years. I remember someone bringing flowers which I put in a balti because there was no vase. Meals were on the floor. We used to leave home at 645 daily to drop Rayaan to day care ( eternally grateful to The Early Years ) and get to our jobs. I was teaching at several places and so was he. We were shuttling between jobs all day. Only to return in the evening exhausted, showered ( if we had the energy), have omelette toast and crash. All this was just making ends meet, pay rent, bills, Rayaan’s fee, basic grocery and NO savings. Eating out was out of the question. But we were SO very happy.
It was unbelievable.
Even now when we look back the two years at “26 M” were the warmest, coziest, happiest ever. I actually found out what people mean when they say money isn’t everything. I learnt to love my baby boy who was an absolute Godsend. He took his first steps on that terrace. We got heat strokes from the hot weather but still managed to smile. The first sofa set we bought was second hand, for Rs 4000, which Omair refused to give away till 3 years ago.
The beds in the 2nd room were given by a dear friend for free. We shared the bills. Since we couldn’t eat out much I experimented with a lot of cooking (Dalda ka dastarkhwan was my saheli in those days).
Sharing financial and household responsibilities was never ever a problem between us. It was always “our” money, our responsibilities. We were both fighting our separate battles of the move ( we really never wanted to move away from his parents and this was very painful for both of us differently) but we never fought over it. Everything was always so civil and so comfortable.
2010.
We moved to a better place. Things settled a bit vis a vis work. Him and mine both. Slowly the ice started melting with my in laws ( things now are 100% ok. Yeah. That also happens. A lot of the credit goes to my parents in law here. But that’s a separate post)
Slowly and steadily we made a home.
Right now, I’m sitting in our TV lounge of the home we’ve been in since 2010. And when I look around, every single thing that I can see has been bought by us personally.
Alhamdullillah.
Allah has been so unbelievably kind. If I say that we have actually built a home from scratch together, it’ll be 100% true. From a teaspoon to the TV to the car. Everything. But we still remember the first 5000 he earned and the third hand Red Alto whose floor collapsed while we were driving it. Flintstones!!!!
2011.
I had my miscarriage.
2012.
This was the year we lost our twins in the 33rd week.
What followed was a complete fallout between us.
Oddly enough...We were heartbroken, more for each other than our own selves. I struggled desperately to deal with everything that follows after losing a child. But I failed miserably because of my combination of “I have to be strong”, “ I should always be grateful”, and “ everything happens for a reason” and “I need to be there for him”, and “Look how much pain my sister has gone through, this is nothing”.. But my body wasn’t agreeing with my mind and I fell critically ill.
Hospitalized for weeks while doctors struggled to figure out the problem. Eventually managed to come out of it Alhamdullillah but it took its toll on our relationship.
We drifted apart although he looked after me with such care that it makes my heart melt every time I think about it. But we both knew that it wasn’t the same.
For reasons we both knew and understood but didn’t have the courage to talk about. Since we were such close friends, we both understood the other’s thinking process and we let each other be. It was like parallel lives. We came home to each other, never stopped loving each other but we started living our own lives. Professionally we both grew but as “us” we stopped moving.
Now, when I see couples making this mistake I make it a point to tell them. Ask them to talk it out. Understanding each other’s struggles and giving each other too much space at the cost of your own happiness can cause irreversible damage.
This lack of communication is something I regret in hindsight. Something that went on for years and something that caused our marriage to almost end at one point...We didn’t even talk about what we were going through with anyone either.
No One.
Because our go to person was us...to kiya kartay?
But, yet again, guess what came to our rescue? Dosti. We just couldn’t give up on the dosti. No matter how much time we spent with other people, we just couldn’t help but miss what we have.
And what we have is extraordinary.
We feel at home with each other.
And that is irreplaceable.
You know the person who can look at you and understand what you are about to say? That’s us.
Home is where your heart is, and our hearts belong to each other. Three C sections and he stayed with me at the hospital. You want your mother around at that time and I wanted him. He’s changed countless pampers, done night duties with the kids, cooked breakfast for me, cleaned, dusted, changed linen, gotten furniture poshish done, taken me shopping infinite times, waited patiently while I got my threading done only so we can take a drive together, bought sanitary napkins, taken me for Falooda at midnight, you name it. He made me open my first personal bank account and asked me to put all my salary in it instead of the joint account, he’s never asked me how much I earn, never told me I’m fat ( and I’ve been fat!!!). Always disregarded comments about how “young” he looks compared to me.
Something I have let bother me for years before growing up and not giving a rat’s ass eventually.
We’ve never ever argued in front of the kids. He’s always given me the lead in parenting, trusting every single decision I take as a mother, and never made me feel bad for the bad ones (there are quite a few).
He’s never stopped talking to me although I tend to give him the “silent treatment” quite a few times. He’s supported me most in my work. Helped me through the tightest spots professionally. I have grown as a person with him. I have learnt from him what it means to truly forgive someone, to be non judgmental, to drop one’s agenda and focus on the bigger picture. People say it about their fathers, and as much as I love my Abu with all my heart, my husband gave me wings to fly and the
courage to follow my dreams.
He’s actually one of a kind.
Completely secure.
Non judgmental.
Hospitable and generous to the core.
Genuinely happy for everyone’s success and happiness.
Humble.
A truly happy person who wakes up every morning to live life to its fullest!
A truly loving father.
A genuinely caring son.
An absolutely accommodating husband.
A wholeheartedly loving brother.
A friend in need.
I’ve spent years being scared of Nazar and bad luck by telling people how blessed I feel, every moment of my life, but not right now. I feel if many people will jinx this, enough people will be happy for us and make the bad nazar nuetral 🙂 I think the world deserves to know this side of the coin as well.
There ARE men who are plain GOOD men. And I have been infinitely lucky to have one of them. I may become overwhelmed with fear in a few days though. I’m unpredictable in this department
🧿
My love story is rather simple.
I simply decided to marry my best friend. My best friend decided to marry his. And we really wouldn’t have it any other way. He calls me his “best mistake”. I still can’t decide if that’s a compliment or not I
consider him “my lucky break” in life.
We haven’t had a marriage which revolves around expensive presents, holiday destinations or lavish surprise birthday parties but we have a marriage which has survived the test of time. It is based on years of honesty, trust, hard work and respect. We have both invested in it. Yes I have invested a lifetime in this relationship as well. I have compromised and given in countless times. Cried myself to sleep and wept in the shower. There have been numerous ugly downs in these 23 years...but the beautiful ups have been more than numerous. The laughters are actually infinite.
Alhamdullillah.
The most important thing is that we haven’t kept any scores. Who needs to keep a score when we both get to win in the end?”
-shared by Ms. Maira Omair Rana...
