The Khan Haveli, a magnificent structure of sandstone and grandeur, stood tall against the backdrop of a clear, azure sky. Its ornate architecture spoke of a legacy that had weathered the passage of time with grace. The sprawling gardens, meticulously groomed, extended around the mansion, a lush oasis in the heart of tradition.

The Khan Haveli was a realm of intricate family dynamics. Despite the appearance of unity from the outside, the Haveli was partitioned into four distinct sections, each housing a different branch of the family.

Huzaifa Khan, the eldest brother of Khan family, held court with an air of authority. His two sons and their families lived under his roof.

On the left wing, Azlan Khan, second brother, held sway, residing there with his wife- Rubab and two daughters - Ayla and Ayat - both are married within the family.

The third section, however, remained eerily silent for most of the year. This was the domain of Shahzain Khan, the third brother, who had long since moved to America with his family. His part of the Haveli, locked and empty, stood as a reminder of his absence, save for his annual visits when the halls would briefly come alive.

In the fourth section, a different energy pulsed through the air. This was the domain of Huzaifa's youngest sister- Hamna, who doesn't live there anymore either, but her daughter Shyra lived there with her husband Kabir, the youngest of Huzaifa's sons. Laughter, vibrant, and carefree filled these rooms in stark contrast to the stillness in Shahzain's quarters.

The Khan Haveli was not just a residence; it was a symbol of love, tradition, and the complexities of familial bonds. It stood as a microcosm of interwoven lives, where past and present converged, and where the children's laughter once echoed through every room, bringing it to life. This is where the story begins when the family still lived under one roof.

•••

It was a typical day, the sun casting a warm glow over the lawn. Laughter and cheerful shouts filled the air as children engaged in carefree games. Among them, young Shahnan stood out, his eyes fixed on one person.

Determinedly, he approached Kian and Eifa, who were playing together. His small hand reached out to grab hold of Eifa's.

"Meli hai," he declared, his voice surprisingly firm for a 2-year-old. The other children paused, momentarily baffled by Shahnan's possessive claim. Eifa, caught off guard, glanced at the little boy who insisted on declaring ownership over her.

(She’s mine,)

Eifa was 4 years old when Shahnan was born. The little girl became excited upon seeing the newborn. Although Kian was younger than her, the age difference was not significant - Eifa, Ehan, and Kian lived together like triplets. And that's why Eifa was a lot happy when Shahnan arrived, Eifa felt like she had found a living doll. Shahnan was an incredibly cute, chubby little baby who didn't cry much but always giggled. As Shahnan grew a bit older, his attraction towards Eifa increased because she had always played with him since his early days.

"Sab sath mein khelenge," Eifa decided to keep the peace. Kian and Shahnan never got along. If Shahnan is on the swing, Kian would always demand to sit there and would start crying if he didn't get it. The same goes for Shahnan. He never let Kian play with Eifa, always coming there to take her with him.

(We’ll all play together,)

"Nahi!" Shahnan almost shouted. He doesn't want to play with Kian, nor does he want Eifa to play with him.

(No!)

"Kian, tum mere sath aao," Ehan also came there.

(Kian, come with me,)

"Pehle main aya tha," Kian was adamant too.

(I was here first,)

"Aap dono boxing karlo, jo jeeta woh khel lena Eifa ke sath." This was Aala Azrin. Although she was the eldest among them, she always had the most bizarre ideas.

(You two can box, and whoever wins will play with Eifa.)

Ayla and Ayat, who had been watching from a distance, thought it might be time to step in.

"Kian, woh chota bhai haina, aap kyu zidd karte hain ussey," Ayla scolded her son.

(Kian, he's your younger brother, why are you being stubborn with him?)

"Pehle main aya tha, usne zidd ki," Kian complained, on the verge of crying. Ayla always scolds him in these matters.

(I was here first. He's the one being stubborn,)

"Allah, idhar aiye," Ayat called her nephew to her and hugged him. "Shah, bohot buri baat hai, apko sabke sath khelna chahiye." Ayat looked at her son with sharp eyes.

(Oh God, come here,)

(Shah, that’s really rude. You should play with everyone.)

"Eifa meli hai," Shahnan again declared, his small, innocent face full of seriousness.

(Eifa is mine,)

"Saaf bola nahi jata, 2 kadam chalke gir jate hain aur abhi se haq jatana hai." Ayat scoffed, but Shahnan was unaffected.

(You can barely talk properly, trips after two steps, and you're already claiming things.)

•••

Later that night, when Hanan returned home from the office, Ayat shared her concerns about Shahnan's unusual behavior.

"Iss age mein Shah ki yeh sari baatein bohot ajeeb lagti hain. Hume samajh nahi araha woh seekh kaha se rahe hain yeh sab," Ayat expressed her worry.

(At this age, Shah’s behavior is really strange. I don’t understand where he’s learning all this,)

Hanan laughed it off. "Shiddat pasand toh humare khoon mein hai." He pulled Ayat closer, holding her arm.

(Passion runs in our blood.)

"Hanan, I'm serious," Ayat became irritated, feeling like her concerns weren't being taken seriously.

"Ayat, woh bachha hai. Ussey kya pata yeh sab, jo achha lagta hai bas chahta hai uske sath rahe." Hanan reassured her, gently cupping Ayat's cheek affectionately.

(Ayat, he’s just a kid. He doesn’t know anything about this. He just wants to be around what he likes.)

"Lekin iss umr mein aisi baatein?" Ayat pushed his hand away. Hanan made a face but pulled her close again, not giving her the option to move away this time.

(But saying things like this at his age?)

"Bachha hai woh..."

(He’s just a kid)

"Exactly, he is just a kid. Aur yeh kya baat hai ki Eifa meri hai?" Ayat's tone was serious, but Hanan couldn't help but chuckle again.

(Exactly, he’s just a kid. And what’s this 'Eifa is mine' talk?)

"Bachhe aise hi hote hain. Kisi cheez ko leke possessive ho jate hain toh phir share nahi karna chahte. Aur phir Baloo iklouta hai. Bachpan mein main bhi toh aisa hi tha." Hanan explained lovingly, trying to lighten Ayat's mood.

(That’s how kids are. When they get possessive about something, they don’t want to share. And Baloo is an only child, I was the same.)

"Lekin woh Kian se kis tarah se baat karte hain..."

(But the way he talks to Kian…)

"Cousins mein hota hai aisa. Rehnuma api aur Ayla api ki bhi toh nahi banti thi na." Hanan had a response for everything, as if he had thought it all through. Ayat fell silent, perhaps realizing she was overthinking.

(It’s normal among cousins. Even Rehnuma api and Ayla api didn’t get along.)

"I actually have an idea," Hanan said, trying to pull her out of her deep thoughts.

Ayat, who had been staring into space, turned toward him.

"Hum ek aur baby kar lete hain, Baloo bada bhai banagea toh seekh jayega sharing is caring." Hanan teased playfully, holding Ayat's hand. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Kya kehti ho? Abhi try kar lein?" Leaning toward her, Hanan asked playfully, only to be pushed away by Ayat.

(Maybe we should have another baby, then Baloo will become an older brother and learn that sharing is caring.)

(What do you say? Should we try now?)

"Ek toh aap hamesha romantic mood mein rehte hain." Ayat complained, attempting to leave, but Hanan grabbed her hand and pulled her toward him.

(You’re always in a romantic mood.)

"Sara ilzam mujh masoom pe lagado haina? Mera dil tum behkati ho, aur galti meri hamesha romantic mood mein rehta hoon?"

(Blame it all on innocent me, huh? It’s you who tempts my heart, and then you blame me for always being romantic?)

Ayat sighed deeply and then looked at Hanan with a tired expression. "Abhi romance se bhi zyada important cheezein hain."

(Right now, there are more important things than romance.)

"Meri biwi zyada important kya ho sakta hai?" Hanan ignored her frustration.

(What could be more important than my wife?)

"Hanan, Shah..."

"Chorho na, honey, office se thakk ke aya hoon, pyar ki baatein karo." Hanan was in no mood for serious conversations; he just wanted to enjoy their time together.

(Forget it, honey, I’m exhausted from work, let’s talk about love.)

"Shah ko apse mila hai yeh ziddipan..." Ayat said, smiling and pinching his cheek. He did look cute when he complained.

(Shah got his stubbornness from you...)

"Yeh ziddipan sirf tumhare liye hai." Hanan leaned toward her.

(This stubbornness is only for you.)

Before he could kiss her, the bedroom door opened, and Shahnan entered, causing Hanan to groan, and Ayat pushed him away.

"Mummy papa nahi hain toh yeh kebab mein haddi banega." Hanan muttered, and Ayat lightly smacked him, reminding him not to call their son such things. "Mujhe lagta hai hume wakai mein Baloo ke liye chota bhai ya behen le ana chahiye. Kam se kam uske sath busy rahega yeh toh hume disturb nahi karega." Hanan still wouldn't drop the topic, determined to express his thoughts.

(If mummy and papa aren’t around, he’s going to be a third wheel.)

(I really think we should have a little brother or sister for Baloo. At least he’ll be busy with them and won’t bother us.)

Shahzain and Khushnuma had gone to America to stay with Khurram Haider. Ever since Naziya Khan's sudden death, Khushnuma had been worried about her father. Ayat had been pregnant at the time, and Khushnuma didn't feel comfortable leaving her with a newborn. But once Shahnan turned a year old, Khushnuma spoke with Shahzain about wanting to spend some time with her father in America. Shahzain also shared her concerns and agreed to go with her. Meanwhile, Ayat and Hanan stayed behind.

"Papa, ice cream!" Shahnan requested, running to Hanan.

"Ice cream khana hai?" Ruffling Shahnan's hair, Hanan asked. "Abhi chalte hain. Lekin sab sath chalenge, Azrin api, Ehan, Eifa, aur Kian."

(Want to go get some ice cream?)

(Let’s go now. But everyone will come along, Azrin api, Ehan, Eifa, and Kian.)

"Nahi, silf Eifa," Shahnan refused.

(No, only Eifa,)

"Shah..." Ayat was about to scold him, but Hanan stopped her.

"Sirf Eifa kyu? Baki sab bhi cousins haina, dost hain apke."

(Why only Eifa? The others are your cousins too, they’re your friends.)

"Woh mele dost nahi. Kian hamesha meli cheez le leta hai," Shahnan complained in his baby voice.

(They’re not my friends. Kian always takes my stuff.)

Hanan raised his eyebrows at Ayat, who gave him a knowing look as if to say, "See, I told you so."

"Achha sirf hum chalte hain. Main, tum, aur mummy," Hanan suggested.

(Okay, just the three of us then. Me, you, and mummy.)

Shahnan's eyes lit up, and he eagerly ran towards the gate.

"Dekha apne," Ayat immediately complained.

(See that?)

"Bada hoga toh khud hi samajh jayega sab," Hanan reassured her with a smile.

(When he grows up, he’ll understand on his own.)

Shahnan was always different. Unlike his other cousins, who were full of energy and constantly making noise, Shahnan possessed a calmness that set him apart. He didn't enjoy chaos, nor was he interested in mischievous pranks. This often left Ayat worried about his quiet demeanour. Even Hanan found it odd that a child so young could be so quiet, but he believed in giving Shahnan the time and space to grow at his own pace.

When Shahnan was a baby, Ayat had noticed something that still haunted her. He rarely cried, even when most babies would. Once, in the middle of a busy day, Ayat had accidentally forgotten to feed him. Instead of wailing for attention, Shahnan simply lay in his crib, staring up at the ceiling, his big eyes calm and patient. Ayat only remembered hours later and rushed to him in panic, fearing he must have been crying for hours. To her shock, she found him in the same quiet state.

That moment had shaken Ayat deeply. Her heart clenched with guilt and worry, wondering how she could have been so careless. From then on, her concern for Shahnan only grew. He was her first child, and there was still so much she had to learn as a mother. She constantly questioned if his quiet nature was normal or if something was wrong.

But in the haveli, everyone discouraged her from overthinking. They would always say, "Every child is different." But Ayat couldn't shake her worry, not fully. She had an innate fear that her son's calmness wasn't something to dismiss so easily.

•••

Their sudden move to America and the plan to settle there was unexpected. But with time, both Hanan and Ayat adjusted to the change. For Shahnan, however, it was the most difficult. His young mind struggled to cope with the drastic changes, and he fell ill for months. The once calm and composed Shahnan became irritable and easily frustrated. He didn't know how to express his emotions, and during that period, his stubbornness seemed to have no limits. He would get angry over small things and even throw objects, leaving Hanan and Ayat unsure of how to handle him.

While Shahnan was unwell, Eifa also fell sick and would ask her parents the same question, "Shahnan kab ayega?" Shyra and Kabir thought it was a temporary attachment and that she would eventually recover. And she did, but Shahnan's attachment with Eifa wasn't temporary.

(When is Shahnan coming?)

After Sharfa's birth, Hanan and Ayat hoped it would ease Shahnan's loneliness. And it did to some extent. Sharfa Hanan Khan became the apple of her parents' eyes, and even more so, deeply loved by her brother. Despite his young age, Shahnan showed a surprising amount of maturity in caring for his baby sister. Hanan and Ayat felt a wave of relief as they saw their son slowly return to his old self.

•••

When Sharfa was born, her eyes were grey, just like her father's. But a few weeks later, when they fully opened, they had turned a striking blue. Ayat was thrilled, gushing over it, but Hanan simply made a nonchalant face, pretending it didn't matter to him. Of course, deep down, he was pleased-after all, his daughter's eyes resembled the ones he had fallen in love with.

"Hanan," Ayat called out as she finished changing Sharfa's dress and laid her down. Their five-month-old baby was wriggling around, kicking her arms and legs in playful protest. Hanan was entertaining her, making her laugh with loud giggles. But the moment he covered his face with his hands for a game of peek-a-boo, Sharfa's smile turned into a pout, as if she was about to cry.

"Inke cheeks momos jaise nahi?" Ayat asked, gently squeezing Sharfa's plump cheeks.

(Aren’t her cheeks just like momos?)

Hanan glanced at his daughter again, who stared back at him with her big, bright eyes. She had been so tiny when she was born, but now she looked like a chubby little doll, her cheeks perfectly round.

"Haan, shayad," he admitted, leaning in to kiss her cheek, which caused Sharfa to giggle again.

(Yeah, maybe,)

"Shayad nahi, bilkul momos jaise hi hain." Ayat said with conviction, picking Sharfa up. "Isn't that right? Mamma ka chotu sa Momo haina aap." Ayat cooed, making Sharfa beam with delight, but Hanan frowned.

(Not maybe, they’re exactly like momos.)

(You're my little Momo, aren't you?)

"Ayat, tum meri beti ka naam kharab mat karo." he said, his face so serious that left Ayat stunned.

(Ayat, don’t give my daughter funny names.)

"Arey wah, khud Shah ko aap Baloo bulate hain woh theek hai, hum Momo nahi bula sakte." Ayat was ready for a debate.

(Wow, so it’s fine for you to call Shah Baloo, but I can’t call her Momo?)

"Baloo khane ki cheez nahi hai, tumhe khane ke alawa kuch aur samajh ata hai?" he shot back.

(Baloo isn’t something you eat. Do you even think about anything other than food?)

"Humara jo mann karega hum uss naam se bulayenge." Ayat declared.

(I'll call her whatever I want.)

"Momo nahi bulaogi." Hanan insisted, crossing his arms in defiance.

(You’re not calling her Momo.)

"9 mahine apne rakha inhe? Delivery ke waqt jo pain hota hai apne bardasht kiya? Nahi na, toh shush..." Ayat countered, giving him a pointed look that instantly shut him up.

(Did you carry her for 9 months? Did you endure the pain of childbirth? No? Then hush...)

And so, Ayat called Sharfa Momo so often that the poor girl actually believed it was her name. She wouldn't respond to anything else. Soon, everyone in the family started calling her Momo, and Hanan had no choice but to join in. It wasn't until she started preschool that Sharfa realized her real name was Sharfa Khan. Up until then, she proudly answered only to Momo.

•••

It was just another ordinary day, but for Ayat, it was anything but ordinary. Her five-year-old daughter had played another new prank.

"You are grounded," Ayat wasn't threatening her; she was tired of threatening her by now. She was serious this time.

"You can not do that. I have to go play soccer with Al, then to the arcade with bhai, and later for ice cream with papa." Sharfa argued, quickly listing out her activities in the hope that Ayat's heart would soften and she wouldn't ground her.

"I can. You are neither going for ice cream with papa nor to the arcade with your brother, and forget about soccer altogether. You are not allowed to cross that door. Sharfa, if I see you beyond that door..." Sharfa understood that her mother was serious now because she didn't call her by the affectionate nickname "Momo." Ayat usually called her Momo or Sharfa Jaan unless she was angry.

Sharfa pouted, crossed her arms, and sat down on the floor in defiance. "That's not fair! I didn't even do anything wrong! He was happy here, you're just being unfair..." Sharfa protested, her frustration growing as she tried to explain herself.

"Don't make me take your iPad too." Ayat issued an ultimatum.

"You want to take it away anyway," Sharfa argued back. Ever since Hanan had given her the iPad, Ayat had been unhappy about it. She had expressed her displeasure to Hanan, but what could he do? In this generation, iPads have become almost as essential as books in many schools.

"You..." Ayat was about to scold her further when her phone rang. Seeing Ayla's name on the screen, her face lit up.

"Assalam-Alaikum, api, kaisi hain aap?" Ayat answered the call cheerfully and walked into the kitchen, thinking she might prepare some snacks for Hanan and the kids while she talked.

(How are you?)

"Kaha, Sharfa ki toh badmashiya unki age ke sath barh rahi hai. Aaj pata hai unhone kya kiya, humare neighbours ka dog leke chali ayi unhe begair bataye aur uss achhe khase poodles ko butterfly clips laga rahi thi yeh..." Ayat replied when Ayla asked how things were and began recounting Sharfa's antics. But Ayla found all this amusing.

(Well, Sharfa’s mischief has only increased with age. Guess what she did today? She took our neighbors’ dog without telling them and was putting butterfly clips on that poor poodle...)

"Api, please aap hase nahi, tang kar diya hai isne. Shahnan ki tarah yeh bhi hum pe chali jati toh..."

(Api, please don’t laugh. She’s been driving me crazy. If she turned out like Shahnan...)

"Aap pe?" Ayla teased her. "Bas kar dein Ayat, mane ya na mane, Sharfa ne sirf Hanan ki hi nahi, apki bhi kafi sharartein li hain genes mein."

(Stop it, Ayat, admit it or not, Sharfa inherited a lot of mischief from you, not just Hanan.)

"Hum aise toh nahi the..." Ayat tried to defend herself, but her conscience reminded her of the times she used to bring animals home from the age of two and how Rubab would scold her to take them back outside. Instead of letting them go, she would take them to Shahzain's house.

(I wasn’t like this...)

"At least I didn't braid anyone's fur." Ayat had to add that to satisfy her conscience.

Before Ayat could say more, she heard a faint bell, perhaps a bicycle bell. She peeked out of the kitchen window and saw Al standing at the gate with his bicycle, ringing the bell.

"Api, I'll call you back..." Ayat quickly ended the call because she knew her daughter wouldn't stay put once she heard that bell.

"Mamma, Al is calling me; I'm going out." Sharfa's voice came from the living room.

"Sharfa, don't you dare cross that door..." Ayat rushed out, threatening her, but what she saw left her speechless. Her daughter had demonstrated her obedience in her own way-she wasn't crossing the door; she was sitting on the window ledge, one leg inside the house and the other outside.

"Mamma, it's an important match, and I'm an important player, so I have to go. Take care of yourself, don't miss me, I'll be back." With that, Sharfa jumped out of the window and left, leaving Ayat standing there, staring at the window.

When Ayat told Hanan everything that had happened. As amusing as he found the story, he couldn't laugh out loud; he didn't want to upset his wife.

"Puchiye important player se konsa world cup jeet ke layi hain."

(Ask the important player of which World Cup she won.)

If Ayat was concerned about Shahnan's calmness, Sharfa, on the other hand, was just like her father-full of energy and always on the move. Ever since she learned how to walk, Ayat rarely had a moment of peace. She was constantly chasing after Sharfa, who seemed to have a knack for finding trouble. At first, Ayat would take her along to the hospital, but after a few unforgettable incidents-like when Sharfa freed some animals from their cages or, worse, climbed into the cages herself-Ayat stopped bringing her. Instead, she would leave Sharfa with Khushnuma, or on some days, Hanan would take her along to the office.

But it didn't take long for him to realize that bringing her along was more like managing a tiny tornado than a child. The moment he took his eyes off her, she'd vanish. Then, Hanan, Shahzain, and even their P.A. would be frantically searching the entire office. Sometimes, they'd find her at an employee's desk, babbling away with her limited one-year-old vocabulary, as if she was having a serious business discussion. Other times, they'd find her in the cafeteria, covered in sauce, proudly "redecorating" the table with whatever food she could reach. No one ever complained, of course-everyone knew she was Hanan's daughter.

But the final straw came one afternoon when Sharfa followed a stranger into the elevator. By the time Hanan realised she was missing, panic set in, and a frantic search ensued. They finally found her on the terrace, happily chasing birds without a care in the world, completely unaware of the chaos she'd caused. After that, Hanan swore he'd never bring her to the office again.

Khushnuma had to step in to take charge of Sharfa, and to Ayat and Hanan's relief, she did an excellent job. After all, she had plenty of experience raising Hanan, so handling his mischievous daughter was just another challenge she was well-prepared for.

Sharfa’s mischief didn’t just stop at the office—her favorite target at home was her elder brother, Shahnan. Shahnan, being the calm and quiet one, had no idea how to deal with his little sister’s boundless energy.

Whenever Shahnan sat down to eat, Sharfa would insist on eating from his plate. If Shahnan tried to feed her, she refused. She wanted to eat on her own and would often ruin his meal in the process.

She had her own coloring books and crayons, but somehow, Shahnan’s school bag would end up in her hands. Before anyone knew it, she had turned his study books into her personal canvas, proudly scribbling her masterpieces. Shahnan would find her sitting happily among his now-ruined notes, grinning up at him with her big, innocent eyes. Instead of getting mad, Shahnan would just sigh, pick her up, and make sure she was okay.

By the time she was just a year old, she had already learned how to open the fridge. While she couldn’t open the chocolate wrappers, she would still try to eat them. With Sharfa around, Shahnan never got to enjoy his chocolates in peace.

These little incidents became a daily part of life, with Shahnan learning to handle his whirlwind of a sister in the most patient and loving way possible.

Whenever Ayat was at her wits' end with the unique and contrasting personalities of both children, she'd turn to Hanan. "Do aulad di apne hume, Hanan, aur dono aisi," she'd say, exasperated.

(You gave me two kids, Hanan, and both are like this,)

"Meri aulad? Main market se khareed ke laya tha?" Hanan would feign innocence, as if he had nothing to do with it.

(My kids? Did I pick them up from the market?)