"How can you be real?" she whispered, under her breath, as he made himself comfortable next to her on the driver's seat.
"What?" he asked, laughing softly.
"How can someone be as charming as you and not be completely full of themselves?" Asiya said, glancing down at her polished nails and then at her sandals, a shy smile on her face.
"And how do you know I'm not full of myself?" he countered mischievously. "Madam, there's a lot about me you don't yet know!" He then parked the Impala in front of the Commercial Zone and honked the horn.
"Really? Like what?" Asiya asked, her eyes sparkling as she studied her husband.
"Like what I'm going to do right now. Right here!" he whispered, sliding closer to her, his breath warm on her ear.
Asiya stared at him, then glanced nervously at the people bustling around them, lost in their little worlds. He was steadily, inexorably, leaning closer.
Shair continued in a barely audible voice, "You know, Asiya, I've been thinking…" He leaned even closer, a teasing glint in his eyes. "That I want to…"
Asiya's cheeks flushed crimson, her heart beginning to pound. She instinctively reached for the door handle, but thought better of it; getting out of the car would be even more conspicuous. Instead, she shrank back against the door. "What are you doing, Shair? Stop, please, everyone's watching…"
But Shair was incorrigible. "Let. Them. Watch," he replied, his voice a playful staccato, his eyes alight with suppressed laughter.
When her back pressed against the door, Asiya squeezed her eyes shut and held her breath. All she could hear was the frantic pounding of her heart, like a dhol drum at a circus. Then, silence. A soft, suspicious silence. Hesitantly, she peeked at her husband, unsure of what she would find. Shair was back in his seat, wiping a stray tear of mirth from his eye.
"What?" she asked, staring at him, utterly confused.
Shair burst into laughter. "What exactly did you think I was going to do? Here? On the street? Next to a market?! You're a piece of work, Madam Asiya!"
"I… I don't know," she stammered, a sheepish smile spreading across her face as she laughed and looked out the window. It was a bright, sunny afternoon, and she was acutely aware of her husband's close proximity and the lingering warmth of his playful deception.
A young man in a brown shalwar kameez knocked on Shair's window. Shair rolled it down to reveal a small tray with two plates of chaat. He took one plate and handed it to Asiya, then took the other for himself.
"Chaat? In the car?" Asiya exclaimed, her eyes lighting up at the sight of the delicious snack, surprised by the informality.
Shair smiled nervously, his eyes still a little misty from laughter. "My friends keep telling me the chaat at this market is the best, though I've never tried it myself." He paused. "I wouldn't normally be caught dead in such a… well, you know. But with you around, I feel adventurous. I want to experience everything…" He tapped his plate with his spoon. "Even this chaat!"
He looked younger, more innocent, and vulnerable than the Shair she had seen just moments before. She smiled. This was a side of him she hadn't seen before, a glimpse behind the polished façade. She happily dug into the chaat, and it was, without a doubt, the best she had ever tasted.
The following weekend, he took her to his village, Kot Bahadur Khan. Asiya sat beside him, tapping her foot, a growing excitement buzzing within her. As the drive progressed, the tapping grew louder and more rapid.
"What is it?" Shair asked, his eyes amused.
"May I please drive?" she asked, almost afraid of his answer. "May I please? Please! Please! Please!"
"Do you even know how to drive?" Shair mused, a knowing smile playing on his lips.
"No," she admitted, a little deflated, "but I've always wanted to."
The landscape transformed as they left the city behind. Rolling green fields stretched as far as the eye could see, dotted intermittently with trees and grazing cattle. The road narrowed, and traffic became virtually nonexistent. Shair pulled over onto a dusty shoulder and, with a smile, invited his lovely wife to take the wheel.
Asiya could hardly believe she was actually in the driver's seat, her hands trembling slightly as she gripped the steering wheel. Following her husband's calm instructions, she shifted gears and slowly released the clutch while gently pressing the accelerator. But her nerves got the better of her, and she let go of the clutch too quickly. Instead of smoothly moving forward, the car lurched to a dead stop, the sudden jolt shocking Asiya. As soon as the initial shock wore off, she burst out laughing. Her laughter was so full of life, so carefree, that it made Shair's heart skip a beat. He couldn't believe someone could make him feel like this. He secretly vowed to do everything in his power to keep her happy—this happy—for the rest of their lives.
Her second attempt was more successful. Slowly, the car began to move. Despite her jitters, Asiya found the sensation of the machine responding to her touch incredibly exhilarating. As they neared the village, Shair told her to pull over. But before he could explain how to park smoothly, she slammed the brakes and simultaneously yanked the steering wheel to the side. The car spun around, coming to a jarring halt that kicked up a thick cloud of dust. Both Asiya and Shair were stunned, unsure of what had just happened. As the dust settled, a terrified Asiya found herself pulled into Shair's arms. "Are you alright? Asiya, are you hurt?" her husband asked, his voice thick with worry.
Asiya's face had gone ashen. "What happened?" she stammered, her voice trembling. "Did… did I hit something?" She peered through the lingering dust cloud, trying to see what she had hit, terrified of Shair's reaction if she had damaged his car, or worse, injured someone.
"Are you alright, Asiya?" Shair asked again, his concern palpable as his hands gently probed her for injuries.
She was unsure what to expect—from the car, from the accident, or from her husband. When she realised the road was empty, that she hadn't hit anyone, a wave of profound relief washed over her. "I… I'm alright," she managed to say, as he pulled her into another embrace.
Her petite frame seemed to melt into his strong arms, arms in which she found a sense of peace, a secure haven where she hoped to spend the rest of her life.
"Ahem. Ahem." Shair looked around to see Ditto standing nearby, a faint smirk on his face.