It was a dark and stormy night. Asif shivered under his coverlet. In a few moments he'd have to wake up, even though it was cold and gloomy, and the bed so much more warm and inviting. He'd have to start preparing the morning meal for his family - his wife, Hiba, who had to get to work by 8.30 am, and their two children, Rona and Uzair.

He was so lucky that Hiba had never blamed him even though it was all his fault that he'd provided the XY chromosome that meant they'd had a boy, instead of the second daughter they'd so longed for. She was a kind and generous wife, though, who loved him a great deal. It didn't work out so well in many arranged marriages, Asif knew, but he'd been one of the lucky ones. She was always fair with the money, always giving him a little bit extra (besides the housekeeping money) for what she called his "indulgences".

"Hiba darling..."

"Pherhpmg," snorted Hiba from the bed where she was still snatching an extra half hour's sleep.

"What do you want for your breakfast?"

"Dunno."

"Eggs?"

"Prhpms."

"Paratha?"

"Hmrpsh."

"Fresh-squeezed juice?"

"Prhpms."

Asif edged away, knowing that Hiba loved the egg and paratha to be done at the same time. Hiba didn't usually lose her temper if the egg was a little soft or the paratha less than crispy, but Asif always wanted to get it just right. This was one of the little joys of being a good spouse - knowing what pleased your partner and doing it for her just because you wanted to.

He could hear the usual sounds of the morning's struggle from the children's room. "Abba!" called Uzair plaintively, his voice quivering - "Abba! Rona's hogging the bathroom! She's been in there half an hour! I have to go... please Abba!"

"Uzair, you silly boy, don't you know girls have to have the bathroom longer? It takes them longer to do their hair in the mornings and put on their makeup... next you'll be crying that she gets more food than you do at mealtimes... I don't know what you think of yourself, honestly!"

"But she does!"

"Well, she needs it! She's a growing girl! She needs her strength."

"But I'm growing too!"

"Yes but ... well we've talked about this before son. About how girls and boys are different - equal, of course, but different. And that girls have different roles in society than boys. She needs to have the extra toasts, and take all the science classes because one day she's going to be an engineer and she'll have her own family to provide for. You need to learn how to be patient and giving and compromise - that's what families look for in a good husband."

Asif sighed... for he knew that when the time came to marry Uzair off, he would miss the boy terribly. And yet it was so much hard work preparing a boy for marriage. The endless grooming, the bleaching of the skin to ensure the right complexion... making your son appear just the right mix of physical attributes and personal qualities and characteristics so that the families of the most eligible bachelorettes would propose...

Yet looking at his young son, so sweet and innocent, in his owlish glasses and mussed up hair, Asif put the thought away from his mind. There were so many more years in between to be enjoyed. Why worry about everything now? And, after all, everyone knew what a good husband Asif had turned out to be. With an example like that in front of him, Uzair couldn't fail to grow up and one day make some woman very happy indeed. And with a smile, and a pat on the head for Uzair, Asif set off towards the kitchen to prepare Hiba's breakfast, humming a secret, happy little tune.