Love Over Stars

 

Love Over Stars: A Tale of Two Hearts Defying the Cosmos

In the bustling lanes of Lahore, where the aroma of spicy biryani mingled with the chaos of rickshaw horns, lived Zara and Bilal, a couple whose love story could make even the sternest astrologer chuckle. In Pakistan, where stars are consulted before hearts, their tale was nothing short of a cosmic rebellion.

Zara, a fiery graphic designer with a penchant for sketching sunsets, met Bilal, a lanky engineer who could fix anything except his own terrible dance moves, at a friend's wedding. Sparks flew faster than gossip at a chai stall. Their eyes locked during a particularly chaotic garba, and by the time the DJ switched to a slow qawwali, they were already plotting their first coffee date.

But in their vibrant Punjabi families, love was no simple affair. Enter the formidable Aunty Naseem, Zara’s mother, who clutched her astrological charts like a general wielding battle plans. “Zara, your stars scream trouble!” she declared, waving a horoscope that predicted doom if Zara married someone born under Bilal’s unfortunate Scorpio sign. “His Mars is in retrograde! You’ll be fighting over who burns the roti every day!”

Bilal’s family wasn’t much better. His father, Uncle Tariq, consulted a pir who swore their union would anger the celestial spirits, possibly leading to a lifetime of bad Wi-Fi signals. “Bilal, my boy,” he said, stroking his beard, “the stars say your children will inherit your clumsiness and her stubbornness. Disaster!”

Yet, Zara and Bilal were not ones to let planetary alignments dictate their Netflix-and-chill plans. With a mischievous glint, Zara proposed a plan: “Let’s show them lovelogy beats astrology!” Bilal, ever the engineer, drafted a blueprint for their rebellion, complete with color-coded phases labeled “Operation Dil Se Dil.”

Phase one: charm the socks off their families. Zara baked gulab jamuns so sweet they could melt even Aunty Naseem’s skepticism. Bilal, meanwhile, fixed Uncle Tariq’s ancient radio, earning a rare nod of approval. Phase two: prove their compatibility. They took their families to a local mela, where Bilal won a giant teddy bear for Zara at a ring-toss game (after 27 tries, but who’s counting?). Zara, in turn, taught Bilal to twirl a sparkler without setting his shalwar on fire—a victory for their teamwork.

The real test came when Aunty Naseem invited a renowned astrologer, Pandit Javed, to their home. With a turban larger than his ego, he spread out his charts and declared, “This union is like mixing mango lassi with nihari—catastrophic!” Zara stifled a giggle, while Bilal whispered, “He clearly hasn’t tasted our kind of lassi.” Undeterred, they invited Pandit Javed to dinner, where they served a feast so delicious that he forgot his predictions mid-bite. “Maybe,” he mumbled, mouth full of biryani, “Venus is in a forgiving mood.”

Years passed, and Zara and Bilal’s love grew like a banyan tree—deep-rooted and sprawling. They married in a vibrant ceremony where the only stars that mattered were the fairy lights twinkling above their dance floor. Their families, initially wary, were won over by the couple’s infectious joy. Aunty Naseem now boasts about her “Scorpio son-in-law” who fixed her WhatsApp, and Uncle Tariq claims he always knew Bilal’s stars were “misread.”

Today, Zara and Bilal live in a cozy apartment filled with her sunset sketches and his half-finished DIY projects. They laugh about the days when the cosmos tried to keep them apart, raising a toast to their “lovelogy” with mango lassi (and a dash of nihari, just to prove Pandit Javed wrong). Their two kids, born under who-knows-what stars, inherit their parents’ zest for life, proving that love, not astrology, writes the best stories.

So, to every couple facing a starry-eyed skeptic, Zara and Bilal’s tale whispers: Trust your heart, defy the charts, and maybe bake some gulab jamuns. The universe might just wink back.