1960
It was cold. The kind of biting chill that sank into her bones, even beneath the thick quilt she had pulled up to her nose. Asiya shivered, the cawing of crows sounding deeper, more resonant than usual, almost echoing in the unfamiliar silence. A strong, familiar scent of cologne hung in the air—Old Spice, she realised, its sharp tang cutting through the lingering fog of sleep. Something felt subtly, profoundly off. She sat up, rubbing her eyes. She was on a double bed in a large, elegant room she'd never seen before. Her gaze drifted to a lone bottle of cologne on a dressing table, then to a tall mirror, reflecting the stark walls. On the mantelpiece, a gold clock ticked quietly beside two framed photographs, its sound unnaturally loud. The fireplace was filled with cold ash. Memories of the previous day flooded back as she noticed Shair's clothes, discarded last night, draped over a nearby chair.
She got out of bed, her bare feet meeting cold cement, and peered through the window. No one. Beside the window, a woman's suit hung neatly, a shawl and sweater folded on the table next to it. They looked to be her size. They were the only feminine items in the room, a silent, almost poignant testament to her presence here. Asiya picked them up, a tremor running through her. A silent prayer formed in her mind, a plea against the terrifying prospect of doing something foolish with this bewildering, overwhelming new life.
She stepped onto a rectangular veranda that overlooked a deep valley. The trees and shrubs below created a tapestry of burnt reds, yellows, mustards, oranges, and earthy browns, reminding Asiya of the intricate patterns on Kashmiri shawls. She rubbed her hands together to ward off the chill as she turned to face the house. Six or seven doors lined the veranda. All the rooms must open onto this space, she thought, glancing up at the sloping tin roof above. The veranda seemed like the perfect place for a family to gather.
The brown grass on the lawn in front of the house beckoned her to imagine tea parties and picnics there. A row of delicate mushrooms sprouted from the base of an enormous fir tree. She could almost picture the children from the orphanage picking apples from the bare branches of the trees that framed the view. A boundary wall didn't enclose the house, but its position, about fifteen feet below the main road, offered a degree of privacy.
It was an intriguing house. She peeked into a standalone room and discovered it was the kitchen, where a few men and women were eating breakfast. They immediately stood to attention when they saw her.
Asiya, suddenly self-conscious, backed away, trying to hide behind the door. "Sorry, sorry… please, carry on… I didn't mean to disturb you." She blurted and didn't wait for a response as she continued her search for Shair.
A small patch of tilled earth ran alongside the kitchen wall, and a stream flowed nearby. Asiya walked to the edge of the stream, listening to the gentle splashing of the water.
"Do you like your new house?"
Asiya gasped and turned to face Shair's wide, teasing grin. "My house?!" she exclaimed.
"Of course! You see, the house is mine, and I am yours. Therefore, by logical extension, everything I own, including this house, is automatically yours!"
Asiya, her cheeks already flushed from the frosty morning air, blushed even deeper, a warm glow spreading from her ears to her toes. The thought that he was hers made her heart flutter. The rest of his playful logic was a pleasant blur. "Have you had breakfast?" she asked, trying to regain her composure.
Shair smiled at her subtle shift in topic. "Right, let's eat," he said. "Besides, there's no time to lose. We're going to be out for most of the day."
Shair placed his hands on Asiya's shoulders and gently steered her toward the dining room. A young maid was setting the table for breakfast. Relieved to escape the biting cold, Asiya stood by the fireplace, rubbing her hands together in front of the crackling fire.
Shair settled into the chair at the head of the table. "I hope you like omelettes, parathas, and tea. It's a rather simple breakfast, but all we could manage on such short notice."
"Seriously? It's the ultimate breakfast menu! I could happily eat this every day for the rest of my life," Asiya replied, her eyes sparkling.
Shair was nothing if not amused by her enthusiastic response. "We'll see about that," he chuckled. "Was the water in the bath warm enough?"
Asiya's ears flushed a delicate pink. "Yes, it was perfect. Thank you for leaving the electric rod in." She answered with a bashful smile.
A little while after breakfast, they set off down the road. The wet, winding road climbing uphill stirred a wave of nostalgia within Asiya. Her breath puffed out in swirling clouds of fog. Her skin tingled in the cool, damp air, hinting at rain, though the overcast sky remained serene. She drank in the sight of the dark evergreen forest, a tranquil blanket stretching across the landscape.
The trees around them began to shrink in comparison as they rounded a bend and reached the crest of the hill. The valley to their right plunged deep and vast, culminating in a majestic wall of snow-capped mountains—a breathtaking panorama.
"This is the closest I can bring you to your previous home for now. We're at Kashmir Point, and that…" Shair pointed towards the majestic, snow-capped mountains, "…is Kashmir."
Asiya gasped, clutching her chest. "Oh!" She stared, wide-eyed, at the panoramic view of the snowy peaks. Somewhere beyond that vast, treacherous valley lay the memories of her childhood—a time of innocent joy, surrounded by the love and protection of her family. But then, darker images surfaced: the ceaseless migration, her parents' tired faces, their tireless search for shelter, the constant reminder of being rootless. Her breath hitched, tears welling in her eyes, as the bittersweet tang of memory filled her. She was grateful for the present, for Shair's warm embrace pulling her back to this side of the valley. She looked up at him, a tremulous smile gracing her lips, and touched his face with trembling hands. "My home," she proclaimed with all the feeling in her heart, "is where you are…" Shair's grip tightened on her shoulder, his eyes reflecting a deep understanding.