"Iman, beta, utho." Iman, wake up
I heard my mom calling-more like screaming-even before she entered my room.
Asian parents.
I groaned, pulling my pillow closer and burying my face into it. A soft creak of the door followed, and then she stepped in.
Determined to shatter my peace.
"Iman, beta," she called again, her footsteps approaching.
I felt her hands tug at my mattress. I threw it over my face in defense.
"Uff, Allah," she sighed before yanking it off completely.
"Mmm... Mama," I whined, frowning.
"Ahad, bechara, intezar kar raha hai. Now get up, shabash,"
Ahad, is waiting for you she said in a convincing tone before leaving the room.
I finally forced my legs to start working and dragged myself to freshen up.
"Ahad be na, jaldi uth jata hai. Begairat," I muttered, my voice echoing in the restroom.
One hand held the toothpaste, the other a brush, as I frowned and continued grumbling.
"Can't he wait for three more minutes?" I asked myself.
I dragged myself downstairs, my hair still slightly damp from the quick shower. My brows were pressed into a frown, my arms crossed like a sulking child. The house smelled of parathas and chai, but even the tempting aroma couldn't shake off my irritation.
All because of him.
Sitting at the breakfast table, looking all fresh and wide awake like he didn't just ruin my morning, was Ahad. Begairat.
"Who wakes up this early on a weekend? And drags others with them?" I mumbled under my breath as I reached the last step.
"Iman, stop talking to yourself and come eat," Mama called, already knowing me too well.
I sighed and plopped down on a chair. Ahad, sitting across from me, smirked as he took a sip of his tea.
"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty," he greeted, way too cheerful for my liking.
I glared at him. "Shut up, Ahad."
"Arre, kya kiya maine? I was just waiting for my best friend like a good person," he said dramatically, placing a hand on his heart. "But no, madam has to act like I committed a crime."
I grabbed a piece of roti and tore it aggressively. "The crime is existing so early in the morning."
Mama demanded "I man, bas karo. Bechara Ahad subah se intezar kar raha hai, and this is how you treat him?"
I shot her a betrayed look. "Mama! You always take his side!"
"Because I'm right," Ahad grinned.
I narrowed my eyes. "You are right only when you disappear."
Papa, sitting at the head of the table, shook his head with a chuckle. "Bas, bas. You two fight more than you talk."
Ahad smirked. "Fighting is our love language, Uncle."
I almost choked on my chai.
Mama smiled approvingly. Traitor.
Dadi, who had been quiet so far, finally spoke. "Iman beta, Ahad kitna acha ladka hai. Har subah time pe uthta hai, namaz bhi padhta hai. Tum bhi isse kuch seekho." [Iman, dear, Ahad is such a good boy. He wakes up on time every morning and even offers his prayers. You should learn something from him too.]
I groaned. "Dadi, please, not you too!"
Ahad, clearly enjoying himself, leaned back in his chair. "Haan, Iman. Seekho mujhse." [Yes, Iman. Learn from me]
Iman crumpled a napkin and threw it at his face.
He caught it effortlessly, still smirking.
Mama sighed. "You two will never change."
Papa nodded in agreement. "Allah sabar de."
And just like that, another chaotic breakfast at our house continued.