LEARNING TO SAY YES

Jaya Dubey @DixieJ reimagines Kubool Hai, on Archive of our Own

“Asad?”

“Hmm…”

“Ayaan’s bugging me again.”

Asad exhaled… “Damn.”

Zoya giggled. Damn was right. She knew Asad felt trapped by his brother’s demands to step out of his comfort zone… with a brand new Asad who was the ever-indulgent husband and dad, everyone also knew that he had pretty much lost the power to say no to anything fun. This new Asad had been forged in the fires of betrayal and vengeance to grasp love’s fierce and loyal embrace. This Asad had come to realize that good, clean fun was pretty close to being a fundamental right…

But this was really asking too much of him. A nightclub? There’d be scantily clad women there, he was dead sure of it. A lot of dirty dancing and... He may as well fess up to what was really bugging him.

“I don’t know how comfortable I’d feel ... in such a place…”

Zoya rested her chin on his chest and he scooted to make room for her on the bed. “What’re your real fears, Mr. Khan? Tell me.”

He grunted, suddenly embarrassed to share his insecurities. “Is it that you’ll find the women’s clothing offensive? Or you’ll see some public displays of affection?”

He squeezed his eyes shut and she smiled. Yup, hit the nail on the head. “The music will be terrible and loud ...” he muttered.

“Yes, the music will be loud. Probably as loud as the music we play at our Indian wedding functions--remember, like the one you came to attend all the way from India.”…

She pushed his hands away and framed his face in her hands. “Look at me.” He did. “You’ve been so good so far and I’m proud of you! You haven’t thrown a tehzeeb-fit or had a single heart attack even though wherever we went there were dozens of women in slinky tank tops or short shorts, camis or cut-offs.”

Asad blushed. It had been surprisingly easy to navigate the streets in New York. Because he got it now…

Here you just didn’t stare. Here you accepted the fact that women had the right to make choices about what they wore without being judged for it. And if you didn’t stare at men for what they wore then why subject women to that? Once you figured that out the rest was easy. Women didn’t need covering up; men needed to get over themselves.