Scene One
A House Filled with Laughter
Six months had passed like a gentle breeze—soft, quick, and full of blessings. The house that once echoed with cautious footsteps and whispered worries was now alive with laughter, playful sounds, and the rhythmic comfort of routine. Rimsha had settled beautifully into motherhood, her days flowing naturally between caring for Fatima, managing the home, sharing moments with Imran, and receiving constant love and guidance from Kulsoom aunty.
Fatima was now six months old—healthy, chubby-cheeked, and glowing with innocence. Her eyes sparkled with curiosity, and her smile had the power to dissolve every exhaustion Rimsha ever felt.
That afternoon, sunlight poured into the bedroom as Rimsha sat on the carpeted floor, carefully arranging soft pillows behind Fatima.
"Bas, idhar seedhi baitho," Rimsha said gently, adjusting the pillow.
"Dekho, mummy ne tumhara throne bana diya hai."
Fatima wobbled slightly, then steadied herself. Her tiny hands flailed in excitement, and a loud, delighted giggle escaped her lips.
"Aha!" Rimsha laughed.
"Tumhein yeh pasand aa raha hai na?"
Fatima responded with another happy sound, her eyes bright and focused on her mother's face.
"MashAllah," Kulsoom aunty said from the doorway, smiling proudly.
"Bilkul apni maa par gayi hai—ziddi bhi aur khush mizaj bhi."
Rimsha looked up and smiled.
"Aunty, dekhein na," she said.
"Jab baithti hai to bohat khush hoti hai."
Kulsoom aunty stepped closer, watching Fatima carefully.
"Bas zyada dair mat bithana," she reminded gently.
"Abhi choti hai."
"Ji," Rimsha replied obediently.
---
Scene Two
Tiny Hands, Big Joy
Later in the afternoon, Rimsha prepared Fatima's cereal. She sat her in her baby chair, securing the soft belt, and picked up the small spoon.
"Achha, princess," Rimsha said playfully.
"Ab dekhein kaun si zyada tez hai—tum ya mummy."
Fatima stared suspiciously at the spoon, then opened her mouth slightly.
"Wah!" Rimsha exclaimed happily.
"Good girl!"
As Rimsha fed her, cereal smeared around Fatima's lips, making her look even more adorable.
"Aray baba," Rimsha laughed softly, wiping her mouth.
"Yeh kya fashion hai?"
Fatima responded by grabbing Rimsha's finger tightly.
"Tumhein mummy ka haath hi zyada pasand hai," Rimsha said lovingly.
From the living room, Imran watched the scene quietly, a soft smile resting on his face. He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, his heart swelling at the sight.
"Tum dono ko dekh kar lagta hai ghar aur bhi zinda ho gaya hai," he said softly.
Rimsha turned toward him.
"Zinda nahi," she replied gently.
"Poora ho gaya hai."
Imran walked closer and kissed Fatima's forehead.
"Assalam-o-Alaikum, meri princess," he whispered.
Fatima squealed happily, kicking her legs.
"Dekha?" Rimsha teased.
"Papa ko dekh kar extra khush ho jati ho."
Imran laughed.
"Bilkul meri beti hai," he said proudly.
---
Scene Three
Evening Reflections
As evening approached, Rimsha moved easily through her routine—changing Fatima's clothes, playing peek-a-boo, and humming soft lullabies. There were no restrictions now, no constant reminders to rest. She had regained her strength, confidence, and rhythm.
Kulsoom aunty watched her quietly, satisfaction evident in her eyes.
"Tum bohat achi maa ho, Rimsha," she said sincerely.
"Aur bohat achi bahu bhi."
Rimsha paused, slightly emotional.
"Aunty," she said softly.
"Yeh sab aap ki wajah se hai."
Kulsoom aunty smiled warmly.
"Bas Allah ka karam hai," she replied.
That night, after putting Fatima to sleep, Rimsha entered the bedroom. Imran was already there, sitting on the bed, scrolling through his phone.
He looked up.
"Thak gayi ho?" he asked.
"Thora sa," Rimsha replied, sitting beside him.
"Magar acha wala thakaan hai."
Imran smiled.
---
Scene Four
A Question from the Past
After a moment of silence, Imran spoke again.
"Rimsha," he said thoughtfully.
"Amana Superstore ka kya plan hai?"
Rimsha turned toward him.
"Matlab?" she asked.
Imran put his phone aside.
"Mera matlab," he said gently,
"mujhe lagta hai tum office ka bilkul bhool gayi ho."
Rimsha smiled faintly.
"Bhooli nahi hoon," she replied.
"Bas busy hoon."
"Busy kis ke sath?" Imran asked teasingly.
"Apni princess ke sath," Rimsha said proudly.
"Aur apne ghar ke sath."
Imran nodded.
"Samajhta hoon," he said.
"Magar tumhara career bhi bohat important hai."
Rimsha leaned back against the pillows.
"Sach kahoon?" she asked.
"Hmm?"
"Pichlay kuch dinon se main khud soch rahi hoon," she admitted.
"Lagbhag aik saal ho gaya hai office dekhe huay."
Imran looked at her carefully.
"Tum wapas join karna chahti ho?" he asked.
"Shayad," Rimsha replied honestly.
"Ab Fatima thori stable ho gayi hai. Main bhi."
Imran smiled gently.
"Mujhe koi problem nahi," he said.
"Tum jo chaho, main tumhare sath hoon."
Rimsha looked at him, gratitude in her eyes.
"Tum hamesha itna supportive kyun ho?" she asked softly.
Imran chuckled.
"Kyunkay tum meri wife ho," he said simply.
"Aur meri best decision."
Rimsha smiled, her eyes moist.
---
Scene Five
Dreams Shared in the Dark
Their conversation stretched on for nearly an hour—about Fatima's future, about balancing work and home, about dreams that had paused but never ended.
"Main chahti hoon," Rimsha said quietly,
"ke Fatima yeh dekhe ke uski maa strong hai."
Imran nodded.
"Aur woh dekhe gi," he said confidently.
"Tum dono strong ho."
As the night deepened, Rimsha lay down beside Imran. He turned off the light.
"Good night," he whispered.
"Good night," she replied softly.
From the cradle nearby, Fatima stirred slightly, then settled back into sleep.
Rimsha smiled in the darkness, listening to the steady breaths of her family. Six months had passed, but the miracle continued—every day, in every small moment.
The house slept peacefully, wrapped in love, gratitude, and the promise of a future built together.