She went inside the shower, and stood under the water letting the fluids fall, she cleansed herself, maybe it was the lack of sex education but when she looked at her body she felt disgusted by what took place a few hours ago. She was young, and topics like these were never discovered. Apart from Islamic teachings, none of the girls in school knew anything related to sexual relations or intimate activities.

Maheen knew her private parts needed to be covered, and she knew the verses of the holy book said that men are supposed to be the protectors of women, to take care of them as God has given them more strength to support woman.

In this village, men used their power to terrorize women. They used Islamic laws and twisted them so they could rule over their wives. Being a part of this village, Maheen had never resisted. She had never fought for her rights, but she didn't know she didn't have the power to fight for it.

The water drained down mixed with blood and fluids, and she cleansed herself with the soap to get rid of everything that happened last night.

Abdullah proved that he was, in fact, like the men in the village, her mother was wrong, he wasn't kind. If he was, then he would have given her time, but... his male pride and ego wouldn't have allowed it.

She closed the shower and sighed, looking around the bathroom she realised in her fury she forgot to bring in a towel, she had to go out naked again, but at this point she didn't care. As she twisted the doorknob, she realised it was heavy. Looking at it, she saw her kurti and towel hanging by. There was no one inside the room, so she closed the door after her and picked the yellow kurti, putting it on. It was a pretty colour, the dupatta was red, it almost looked like she was going to someone's haldi ceremony. She let her hair open, to let it air dry, then she looked over and realised the bedsheets were replaced along with her clothes. The cupboard door was wide open, and inside it, her clothes were neatly placed.

He did all of this in ten minutes...

She would have given him the credit if not for the salty words earlier. Rolling her eyes, she closed the door of the cupboard and sat on the bed feeling tired. She wanted to dozz off again.

When she heard a voice, "Khaasi aari? Zukaam hai kya, accha. Kaan mai dard? Haan. Aur sar dard? Theek hai dawai likha hai maine, parcha dawai khaney m dedunga aapke ghar dawai pohoch jayegi. Ji ji Khair Mubarak (Oh is he having a dry cough? Throat ache? Okay okay... is his ears aching? How about the headache? Alright I have prescribed him the medicine...)".

He was back to his usual schedule, dealing with patients. Her life did a complete 360, and this man literally went back to his usual day to day chores. He was a doctor, wasn't he supposed to be compassionate and patient. Where was his humanity when Afshan was getting stoned?

There was a knock at her door, she didn't reply, "Maheen?"

A few minutes passed and the door opened, "Tumhara Baba ke ghar jaana hoga (We have to go over your father's house)", Abdullah said, Maheen didn't had the energy to argue, she nodded her head and brought out her Abayah, she couldn't go outside without it now that she was married.

Pulling it over her head, she exited the room, and he followed after her, trying to keep her pace. She knew the routes well, Abdullah offered his hand, but she ignored it. Why would she hold his hand?

"I didn't want this nikkah as well, like you. I was forced, too..."

Maheen stopped in her tracks, "Forced? How were you forced into this? Did they threaten you to stone you to death or trap you in the village?"

"No -"

"Then shut up."

He stopped her by pulling her wrist, "Listen, stop acting like a brat. we are going over to your parents, and General Sahib will be there. So this attitude might land in you trouble. "

Her eyes shot lasers at him, and she pulled her wrist from his grasp, "That shouldn't concern you."

Maheen's voice trembled with suppressed anger as she retorted, "And you think you have any right to dictate what concerns me? You, who couldn't even give me the basic respect of consent? Don't talk to me about trouble, Abdullah, when you're the epitome of it in my life." She tried to storm ahead, but Abdullah held her wrist.

Abdullah's grip tightened around Maheen's hand as she demanded, "Leave my hand." His voice was low, laced with a simmering intensity as he retorted, "Excuse me, I am not holding your hand; I am holding my wife's hand." The words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken implications, as their eyes locked in a silent battle of wills, the tension between them thick with both anger and frustration, creating a volatile mix of emotions that neither could fully contain.

___

Maheen entered her house, which looked so foreign in the daytime. It almost didn't feel like her home. There was a shift in the air, her eyes went to the walls, and instead of her picture, there hung Jahangir Shaikh and her father's portrait. The house was decorated like it was a happy occasion, but the atmosphere was stiff. Her father sat beside General, his hands folded, looking at the ground wearing his green sweater above his sleeping blue shirt. His pants didn't match his suit. The man who matched his shoes today dressed completely uncordinated.

"Assalamwalikum," Jahangir Shaikh greeted, Maheen glared at him. She hated this man. He sat on the throne as if he were some kind of sultan, ruler. His beard shaved, and trimmed, the man was well dressed. She didn't like the way he dominated her father, as if her father was below him, as if the entire village was below him and he was the ruler.

"Waalikum Assalam," Abdullah said with a jolly smile. Maheen wanted to wipe off that smile from his face. What was this happiness for? Where was it coming from? Was this his way of announcing that he tamed her?

Maheen... you can't kill him.

She knew her anger was misdirected at Abdullah, she knew that her frustration was bubbling over, and it was for the great General Sahib. She was in a room full of killers. Her father, General, and her now forced husband were all were murderers.

She eyed them, and her father gave her a cautionary smile, realising she hadn't responded to their ruler's call. How bad could it be? Will Jahangir Shaikh stone her to death for not replying to her?

She wished he did that... so that her father could know how it felt like to lose someone he loved, even if it came at the cost of her own life. She smirked, imagining how the tables would turn, and instead of Afshan's father, it would be hers crying, begging. And she could finally have peace, escape out of this damned prison, and rest for eternity.

There was an awkward silence. Everyone waited for her to speak up, but Maheen remained silent. She saw the general's expression change, and her father's, there was fear on his face.

"Maheen beta-",

"Woh Maheen ka gala kharab hai (Maheen has got a sore throat)," Abdullah cut him off, and Maheen's head whipped towards him. This man... why did he think he needed to interrupt her every single time? He held her back when Afshan was getting stoned. And he interrupted her now.

"Mera gala nahi tumhara dimaag kharab hai (My throat it alright, but it seems you are brain has retarded)," she said out loud. Her father stood up, his eyes blazing with anger, "Talk to him with respect. He is your husband."

His jaw was clenched as if steam would rise out of his nose at any moment, his hands trembling. With rage, she saw fear for her life. She wasn't scared of death. She had seen death very closely. She had faced the betrayals, and that had turned her fearless and suicidal.

A person with nothing to lose can be dangerous, "So what? I don't consider him my husband, and General Sahib..", she walked closer, her eyes turning chirpier, "Nahi karti Salam, aap par Salamati nahi laanat bhejti hu mai- (I won't pray for you with good wishes, instead I curse you-).

"Maheen!" Before her father could slap her, Jahangir Shaikh spoke up, "Ruk Jao (Stop!)"

He walked towards her, his hands behind his back as he sized her up, his shoulders straight and then his eyes went to the rifle that hung on the wall, the rifle that was gifted by him to my father.

"I can't stone you, but I can shoot you", his aura was intimidating, it made her want to shrink back, to apologize. But his words had the opposite effect, "I don't care".

She felt a calm envelope her, as he walked past her, probably towards the gun. Maheen didn't avert her gaze, "General Sahib please forgive her, she has a sharp tongue, I will teach her a lesson... please".

General hummed, "The time for that has already passed, she is not a little girl, she is a woman. "I can see you did a very inadequate job in raising her".

Maheen's blood boiled at the general's words, but she held her ground, refusing to back down despite the threat looming over her. She knew she couldn't rely on anyone in this room, not even her own father. They were all complicit in the oppression of women in their village, and she refused to submit to their authority any longer.

"And you did a very inadequate job in being a decent human being, let alone a leader."

The silence ensued, Jahangir's head tilted and then he grinned but she noticed the angry glint in his eyes, "Your father failed to raise you, but your husband can groom you, right Abdullah?"

"Right".

"From the wives you fear arrogance- first advise them, if they didn't listen then strike them, Maheen let the holy book decide your fate", every word that he spewed was a twisted manipulation of the original verse of the holy book, Maheen had read it for seven whole years, Jahangir was using it like his weapon, in a feudal society where the men had perverted its teachings to serve their own selfish desires, to justify the abuse.

As Abdullah walked towards her with trembling hands, Maheen's mind flashed back to a childhood memory, a time when she was just a young girl hiding behind a tree to escape the bullies. She remembered the bullies taunting her, their mocking laughter echoing in her ears when they pushed her down the slide, and when Abdullah came over he tried to calm her down.

"Will you protect me?" she had asked him, her voice trembling with fear.

"Yes, of course," Abdullah had replied with a reassuring smile. "I'll always protect you."

"Will you fight all the bad guys for me?" she had pressed, her eyes searching his for certainty.

Abdullah had laughed softly, his eyes twinkling with warmth as he nodded. "Yes, I promise."

But as he stood before her now, his hand raised to strike, Maheen realized the painful truth. The kind boy she had once known was no more. He had grown into a man capable of cruelty, his hazel eyes teary, was it because of rage? His gentle demeanor replaced and she saw his hand tighten as he looked at her with determination in his eyes.

And then came the slap.

It landed with a sickening thud, sending shockwaves of pain rippling through Maheen's entire being. Her cheek burned with the intensity of the blow, the force of it knocking her off balance.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she staggered backward, her hand instinctively flying to her throbbing cheek. She felt as though she had lost more than just her dignity in that moment - she had lost a piece of herself, her childhood innocence shattered by that slap.

But the worst was yet to come.

As she stood there, trembling with pain and humiliation, Jahangir Shaikh's voice cut through the silence like a knife.

"Now that this is over, Abdullah, did you bring the proof?" he asked, his tone cold and calculating.

Abdullah nodded silently, reaching into the small bag he brought to retrieve the bedsheet - the damning evidence that Maheen's purity remained intact.

Maheen's heart sank as she watched the exchange, her sense of humanity slipping away with each passing moment. She felt like nothing more than a piece of property.

And as Jahangir Shaikh pulled Abdullah into a congratulatory embrace, his words echoing in the air, Maheen couldn't help but feel a sense of profound disgust wash over her.

"Mubarak ho, ab tu mard bangya (Congrats, now you are a man)," Jahangir proclaimed triumphantly.