"Aliyaah!" My auntie called out as I stumbled into her living room, embracing me and allowing the scent of . . . her to envelop me. "So glad you here!"
I coughed. Contrary to popular belief, the heavy scent of incense and the perfume your husband brought you in the 90s is not great. Luckily, I think Auntie Dee thought it was from the soot of the fireplace.
"We'll have to clean up that place of fire," Auntie Dee clucked, her accent seeping through, as she wrapped an arm around me waist. "Look how pretty you are looking! A proper woman now!"
"Lay off Mum," my cousin Sam grinned, her red lips curving beneath her heavily curved eyebrows, flicking her head scarf over her shoulder. "How are you Lee?"
"Hey Sam!" I grinned, kissing her cheek, the Western way which my auntie clicked her tongue at. "Good thanks. How about you? How's Soo?"
"She's great thanks," Sam's excitement could barely be contained at the mention of her wife. "But she's busy with Noor."
I smiled at the mention of her daughter. "Before the end of the summer I have to see that girl."
"Promise it," Sam raised a brow.
"Now," Auntie Dee nodded. "We have to go to a parttttttyyyyyyy."
"Already?" I smiled, despite the fact that it was seven o'clock in the morning back home, and it was night here. It was Auntie Dee's way.
"Yes, yes," Auntie Dee nodded. "We can find you a beautiful dress."
Here I thought I was going to be having the time of my life. Away from my parents, my annoying siblings, my boring school. England! My Auntie! Hogwarts!
Nope. Instead, my first day there, I end up stuffed into a traditoinal pheran, the long and wide sleeves enveloping my arms, and fiddling with my kasaba and feeling like every time I moved my entire body jingled thanks to the silver chains and pins hanging from my head.
"Auntie Dee, are these people Indian too?" I asked, as we waited at the front door, feeling my cheeks heat up in embarrassment.
"No, no, no," Auntie Dee shook her head. "They are only part Indian, but from a very very very long time ago. My friend is a Westerner, and her husband is only one quarter."
"So we're wearing traditional clothing because?"
Auntie Dee seemed content to let the question hang as she pounded on the door again, and my cousin Naseem tapped away on his phone, having been allowed to wear jeans as a shirt, while Sam talked a short distance away on her own phone.
"Auntie Dee, I'm only half Indian you know."
"It's the half that matters," Auntie Dee patted my cheek. "Before you know it, you will meet a nice, handsome, Indian boy and you'll get married and have lots of babies and become a famous Healer!"
Okay. Well, I guess my life was sorted. Pfft, why was I even worrying? Clearly my life was on track.
Never mind the fact that I had failed Potions.
"Di!" A ginger woman threw the door open and hugged Auntie Dee. I winced at the butchering of my aunts name. "It's so great to see you. And this must be your niece!"
And at that moment, I realised that I was at Ginny Potter's house.
In a pheran.
Salaam everyone!
Hope you all enjoyed, and Aliyaah will excite you! She is of course named after the beautiful singer Aliyaah - I cried when she passed away, of course. Now: translations!
Pheran: A beautiful traditional style of 'dress' worn by the women of the Kashmir region of India. For Muslim women, it comes to about the mid thigh of the waist, with large and wide sleeves, and heavy brocade. It is often paired with a
Kasaba: Which is a head piece which is with lots of silver trinkets and pins. It is shaped like a turban, and tied tightly.
Much love, and I hope this reaches you in good health!