Saliha, 22

Waleed, 26

Shanza, 23

Harris, 23

Ayana, 25

Mahira, 24

When cousins get together, normally chaos ensues. It was no different for the youngsters of the Mukhtar family.

But today it was different. Today the chaos was caused by the arguments of the adults. You know how it goes: an elderly person of the family passes away, the will is read by the lawyer, often one or two people are not happy and an argument erupts like a long dormant volcano.

When the grandfather Mukhtar Siddique passed away, he had distributed his property according to the Islamic law of inheritance. However, he had left his home to his beloved daughter, Maleeha. Maleeha herself was willing to give the home to her brothers, but it was her husband Shabbir who did not wish for her to do so, resulting in a huge argument that almost literally shook the walls of the generations-old home.

And so, the youngsters had escaped the battlefield and had jumped into the minibus belonging to Waleed, the eldest cousin, and had driven away from the home that was in a small city in northern Punjab.

Saliha, Mukhtar Siddique's youngest grandchild, leaned her head against the window, and as the minibus jumped over yet another pothole, banged her head lightly against the window, wincing.

"This family is based on hatred, anger and lies." Her cousin, Ayana commented. "All we see is fighting, arguments and resentments. No wonder people don't believe in love."

"Love is bulls**t." Harris spoke from the front passenger seat. "Films, TV shows and books show unrealistic crap, which ultimately make the expectations rise for people all around the world."

"It's all about hatred these days." Shanza added from right at the back. "The devil is winning."

Saliha wished that she could disagree with their pessimistic views, but it was not possible. Her cousins were right. There was no place for love in these times.

"Hey, stop the car!" Harris suddenly yelled. "Let's go in there!"

Everyone looked towards the left and saw a large, dark haveli (mansion) that resembled something out of a horror film. Even from inside the minibus, they could see the large cobwebs covering the black iron gates. The bordering wall of the property was rundown and almost falling apart, while the house itself seemed to be like a decaying corpse of its once lively and grandeur self.

"Are you insane?" Waleed asked his younger brother. "That house has been out of use for Allah knows how long. It's a huge safety risk."

Saliha stared at the dark building, mesmerised. Something about it was luring her towards it. She felt breathless, and as she pressed her forehead against the glass, her breath caused condensation to rise on the window. She stared without blinking, almost transported to another world.

"Come on. It's the same old drama in our life." Harris jumped out of the car that Waleed had stopped. "We need some excitement, some adventure."

"But not some jinn." Shanza shook her head. "Because I'm pretty sure jinn reside here."

"Okay, you chicken wings, you all sit in here and I'll go and take a quick tour." Waleed shrugged and walked off.

"I'll come." Mahira, who had been quiet so far, jumped up from her seat and slid open the door. "I want adventure."

"You'll get possessed." Shanza pointed out.

Mahira just rolled her eyes as she closed the door and followed Harris towards the iron gates.

Naturally, the rest of the cousins got out and followed. They were concerned about the two going alone, as well as the fact that the curiosity was gripping them too strongly.

"This is not a good idea." Waleed, the eldest, looked worried. "It's not hygienic and definitely not safe. Someone could get hurt..."

Ignoring him, Harris reached out and pushed the gate open, causing it too make a cliché squeaking sound that made them all wince.

A gentle breeze swept across the open veranda that led up to the mansion. Dead, scattered leaves were tossed about the dust-covered floor, and a low creaking noise could be heard from the right. The cousins glanced in that direction and saw a swing hanging from a large, aging tree, moving from the wind that was starting to pick speed with every passing second.

"A minute ago, there was no breeze, not even a hint of it." Ayana stated what everyone else was thinking.

And suddenly, the seemingly brave Harris didn't want to enter this place. He, of course, did not admit his feelings aloud to his cousins, but his feet automatically froze at the threshold just before the gates, unwilling to step inside.

"If you're afraid, just tell us, Harry." Shanza teased him.

Harris scoffed. "Scared my a**." His ego and pride overpowered his hesitation and he took a stepped inside.

"HARRY!"

"WHAT THE HELL?"

Saliha blinked, unable to understand what had just happened. One moment Harris had been there, and the next moment...he wasn't.

He disappeared into thin air right in front of their eyes.

"Harris, what the hell?" Waleed's voice rose, as he panicked. This couldn't be a prank. No human could play a prank where they could disappear into thin air in front of someone's eyes. This wasn't a film. There were no special camera effects.

"Okay, I told you..." Shanza's voice shook as her eyes widened. "This place has jinn."

"No." Waleed shook his head. "We have to find him and get out of here." He took a step inside as well...

...and like his brother, he vanished into thin air as well.

The remaining cousins screamed, startled.

A strong gust of wind suddenly swept across the abandoned property, making Saliha stumble back.

"We have to go after them." Mahira was in tears. "We have no other choice. They are our cousins, and we can't just leave them."

"Go after them where?" Ayana's voice was high-pitched as she turned to stare at her cousin through her round, thick-framed glasses. "We have no idea where they are! Ya Allah, they could be dead for all we know!"

"For God's sake, Ayana!" Shanza muttered. "I'm going. This is insane." She looked at Saliha. "Coming? Or waiting in the minibus with Ayana?"

"I'm not waiting in the bloody minibus on my own!" Ayana shrieked. "Saliha, come on. Let's call the adults. They'll know what to do."

But Saliha was again staring up at the house, and was already taking slow steps towards the gate, as if lured by an invisible magnetic force.

"Saliha, what are you..."

The voices, the darkness, the surroundings, everything vanished. Saliha found herself in a multi-coloured whirlpool, surrounded by shades of pink, purple, light blue and orange. Her long and straight dark brown hair flew around her and she felt light, as if she was floating in thin air. The loud whooshing sound of this colourful phenomenon was soon replaced my music. At first it was very quiet, almost inaudible, but it grew louder and louder, and eventually Saliha realised what it was.

Classic desi wedding music.

"Lao ni lao aeno shagnan di mehendi..." The words became clear.

* "Adorn him with auspicious henna..."

What the...?

And suddenly, Saliha felt solid ground under her feet. Her body was trembling from the mysterious experience, but she managed to keep her balance. The coolness of the night air was suddenly replace by warmth...and light.

She opened her eyes and her vision started spinning for a few moments. A light wave of nausea threatened to make her throw up her dinner from earlier, but fortunately it quickly died down. She opened her eyes again and the world had now steadied around her.

The first thing she noticed was the swing at the large tree, now adorned by marigold flowers. She looked around in awe and found herself in the abandoned house again, but this time everything was completely different. The walls were no longer breaking down, and everything looked grand and luxurious. Bright lights lit up the property with its milky white pillars and large bay windows. Pink, orange, and yellow drapes were covering the walls and the railing the led upstairs, with fairy lights decorating the boundary walls, as well as the home itself.

It seemed to be someone's mehendi ceremony, a traditional ritual where the bride and groom were adorned with henna over betel leaves, sometimes in a joint ceremony or sometimes in separate ceremonies.

Bright coloured sheets were spread across the floor on one side of the veranda, where women were sitting playing the dholki (two-headed hand drum), singing various traditional wedding songs. A bride sat on a charpai beside them all, dressed in a simple yellow lehenga (traditional skirt), with jasmine flower bracelets adorning her wrists.

*Charpai: a bedstead of woven webbing or hemp stretched on a wooden frame on four legs.

"Ji, tussi kaun o?"

* "Yes, who are you?"

A loud female voice made Saliha jump and turn.

A middle-aged woman wearing a silk orange and pink shalwar-kameez, stared at her with a hand resting on her hip. She was staring at Saliha head-to-toe in a highly judgemental way.

Saliha realised that she was wearing dark blue jeggings, and a half-sleeved maroon dress with a black belt around the midriff. In her feet were high-heel black stiletto sandals, with glittering silver nail polish sparkling on her toenails.

"Osama ki taraf se ho?" The woman's expression softened as realisation seemed to dawn on her.

* "Are you from Osama's side?"

Saliha nodded, feeling a little afraid.

"To beta, yahaan kyun khadi ho aap? Andar aao na. Kainat bohat khush hogi aap se milke." The woman grabbed her arm and led her towards where the bride sat. "Amrika main log aise hi kapde pehente hain na, isi liye main samajh gayi ke aap Osama ki side se ho."

* "Then dear, why are you standing here? Come in. Kainat will be very happy to meet you."

"In America people dress like this, that's why I understood that you are from Osama's side."

Saliha was confused. People only dressed like this in America? I'm from Pakistan, and I've always dressed like this! She looked around. And where exactly where her cousins?

"Kainat, look who's here. She's from Osama's side!" The Aunty spoke loudly to the bride. "Beta, what is your name?" She glanced at Saliha.

"Saliha." She replied, starting to guess that Osama was possibly the groom. "Assalam Alaikum."

"Walaikum Assalam!" A chorus of replies greeted her back.

The bride stood up, smiling. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Saliha. He told me that some of his cousins were coming from abroad..." She blushed as she talked about him, which confirmed Saliha's guess.

Saliha was too shocked to think straight. She had no idea how she had ended up here, or what was going on, or where her cousins were. She was going with the flow, unable to decide how to get out of this situation.

"Did you come here by yourself?" The Aunty asked.

"I..." She shook her head. "I came with my cousins, but I don't know where they are. It's almost as if they disappeared into thin air."

"They'll be here. You sit down and I'll get you something to drink." The Aunty made her sit beside the bride and disappeared into the mansion.

Kainat smiled at her. "So, how are you related to him? I mean, I know you're his cousin, but through his father or his mother?"

Saliha was focused on the fashion of the people around her. If she could guess, she would say that this style was popular decades ago, not even in the twenty-first century. Maybe it's a themed function? Like in The Vampire Diaries they had those decade dances?

"Saliha?" Kainat placed a hand on her arm. "Are you okay?"

"Y-Yes." Saliha looked at her. "I just... had a long journey." As she glanced up, around the place, her eyes widened. Standing at the top of the stairs, partially hidden behind a pillar, was Harris. He was gesturing for her to come up. She quickly stood up. "Oh, I think I see one of my cousins now. Excuse me!"

Kainat looked confused as Saliha rushed towards the stairs.

Saliha's heart pounded hard with relief at finally seeing a familiar face, and by the time she reached him she was panting from running up the stairs. "Oh Allah! Harris, I'm so happy to see you!"

"You know what I think?" He said. "I think this mansion had a weed farm behind it and we somehow got high. Because what the hell, Saliha?" He held out his arms, gesturing to the environment around him.

"I don't understand either." She bit her lower lip. "I feel like... like..." She had no explanations as to what they were experiencing- none that made sense anyway.

"Like we have stepped through time?" He finished for her. "And where exactly is everyone else? Saliha?" He frowned staring at his cousin.

She was staring down the empty hallway that led down the side of the house and around the back, as if under some sort of enchantment. She started walking slowly, like Aurora in Sleeping Beauty when she was heading to prick her finger.

"Saliha!" Harris sounded frustrated as he followed her. "Where are you going?"

Saliha rounded the corner of the house decorated with fairy lights and stopped. She blinked, surprised at how she had ended up here. All she remembered was chatting to Harris, and now she was here.

A door at the end opened and a man stepped out. Wearing white shalwar kameez and a green waistcoat, his biceps bulged as he carried a cardboard box containing what seemed to be mehendi decorations. With cropped brown hair, a neatly trimmed beard and a dimpled smile, he looked a supermodel.

"Really?" Harris appeared beside her, glancing down at her. "We've just time travelled, seemingly, and you are checking out a guy?"

Saliha blushed, looking up at him. "I'm not checking him out!" But it was weird. The way her heart was beating as she gazed at that unknown man was strange, something she'd never experienced before.

Suddenly the man glanced down the hallway and saw them standing there.

Wide-eyed, Saliha whirled around, keeping her back towards him and facing Harris. "We're going to get caught, Harry! They're probably going to caught the police on us for being trespassers!" She hissed at her cousins. "We need to find a way out of here."

"Aap log?" An unfamiliar deep voice asked, a hint of confusion dripping from it.

* "You people?"

The voice itself sent shivers up her spine, in the best way possible. She slowly turned, her cheeks warming up.

The handsome man looked at her and then Harris.

"We are from the groom's side!" Harris replied, smoothly. "His..."

"Cousins..." Saliha added. "We were invited for the mehendi ceremony." She had no idea how she and Harris were acting so calm when the whole reality seemed to have exploded into colourful pieces around them.

The man crossed his arms over his chest, raising his eyebrows in amusement. "Let me guess. Osama Bhai has sent a message for his wife-to-be. A letter, maybe?"

Saliha and Harris exchanged a look.

The man held out his hand towards Harris. "I'm Salman. The bride's elder brother."

"Harris. And this is my cousin, Saliha." Harris nodded at him, shaking his hand.

Salman's gaze met Saliha's, and there was an unmissable chemistry between them. Almost visible sparks seemed to fly, which even Harris seemed to notice.

Saliha didn't believe in love at first sight, but her grandmother always used to say that when soulmate met for the first time, they always felt it deep inside them, even if they couldn't verbally express that feeling.

But that's ridiculous, right? She shook her head and turned back to face Harris. "We need to find the others and leave."

"Leave?" Salman looked confused. "The function hasn't even started yet."

"We just came to congratulate you all." Harris said. "But we have to go and...help with the preparations ourselves...at our cousin's place." He strode back towards the front of the house and Saliha followed him.

"Kithay chalay o, soniyo?" A gruff male voice made them stop in their tracks.

* "Where are you going, lovely?"

Saliha looked down over the railing, and saw a middle-aged couple standing by the bordering wall. The woman seemed to be clutching the end of her dupatta, while twisting her braid around in the other hand shyly, almost filmy style. The man stood beside her, leaning a hand on the wall and staring at her adoringly.

"Sab mujhe dhoond rahe honge. Akhir Dulhan ki Maa hoon." The woman said, blushing.

* "Everybody must be searching for me. After all, I'm the bride's mother."

"Did we enter an old Punjabi film?" Saliha whispered to Harris.

"This definitely feels like a plot of a film." He nodded. "Or we've both hit our heads and are simultaneously imagining the same craziness."

"Where are the others?" She glanced around but saw no sign of their other cousins.

"Maybe, if we go back out of the gates of the house, we'll get back to our time?" Harris suggested.

"Good idea. Let's go." Saliha was already rushing towards the stairs. Just as she was running down, she saw a familiar figure talking to Kainat. "Mahira!"

Mahira must have heard her because she looked up, a look of disbelief covering her face. "Saliha!"

As Saliha continued to run, her foot twisted and she began to fly towards the bottom of the stairs, screaming. Her heart almost stopped, and her scream caught the attention of everyone around her. But she never hurt herself or felt herself hit the hard ground, because someone caught her arm and pulled her backwards against themselves. She placed a hand on her chest, closing her eyes and breathing deeply. "Oh, thank you, Harris." She turned to face her cousin, but her eyes widened as she came face-to-face with Salman, who still clutched her arm in an almost protective grip.

Okay, Harris, Mahira and I have definitely ended up in a film. These are all cliches: wedding crashing by pretending to be someone else, sneaky romance in a discreet area of the house, and of course the girl almost falling and the guy saving her. These are the ingredients of a delicious, overused film plot.

Harris was standing at the top of the stairs, staring down at his phone in his hands, trying to get it too work.

"What year is this?" Saliha blurted out as her gaze landed on Harris' smartphone.

Salman looked at her, raising both eyebrows. "1980. Are you okay?"

"Nineteen what?!" She shrieked, almost causing him to lose his grip, but he held on tightly and straightened her up before releasing his grip on her.

"What did you say?" Harris seemed to have returned to reality. "1980?"

"Are you okay, Saliha?" Mahira had run upstairs after seeing her cousin almost fall.

"Nineteen eighty." Saliha looked at her, stunned.

This is when Harris fainted.

****

There was no sign of Ayana, Waleed or Shanza, and it seemed like they had time travelled to almost forty years before their time.

Harris lay on the bed as the doctor checked him.

"Is Harris okay?" Mahira whispered, worriedly. Clutching Saliha's arm, she looked over at their cousin.

"Jet lag, I suppose." Saliha shrugged in explanation to the others in the room. "It was a long flight."

Mahira looked at her confused. "What flight?"

"Our flight from the US." Saliha looked at her, pointedly. "We came here for our cousin