She laid in her mother's lap, and as her mother applied ghee on the swollen area, her right side of the face was red. Maheen was always the one to get bruises easily. But the force of the slap had shook her completely. She had never expected that she would be humiliated in this way. She wasn't shedding tears anymore. Rather, she laid there trying to process everything that happened in the past day.

She witnessed Afshan getting murdered, got forcefully married to one of the killers, was forced to sleep with him, slapped by him and then even her dignity was stolen by showcasing the white sheet with blood stain.

"Maheen beta itni chup kyu ho?" Her mother asked. She glanced at her mother. And realised she wasn't her enemy, it was the opposite, her mother loved her too much. Maybe the only person who cared, "Are you suppressing your tears?"

She asked in a tone that made her want to break down, "I hate living here... I hate Jahangir Shaikh, and I hate Abdullah. "

Her mother shushed her, "Bawli hogayi hai kya? Kisine sun liya toh?"

"Toh kya karenge? Maardenge? Ya firse nikkah karayenge? Khud ko aurton ka khuda samajhte hai sab..."

Her mother sighed, "Majazi khuda toh haina Abdullah. Uski izzat karo tum, pyaar se baat karo, har baat suno uski. Agar woh nazdeeki manana chahta hai toh usse mana nahi karskti tum, warna farishte laanat denge tumhe".

The words, the way they were used all made her feel suffocated, "Laanat denge..."She couldn't help but laugh, "Agar Islam ki baat karein toh ye mera nikkah bhi jayyaz nahi... aurat ki razamandi k bina nikkah nahi karskte".

"This is our culture, not religion. Here, a woman's consent is not important. A father can make decisions for his daughter and marry him off to a man who would further make decisions of her life..."She placed her hand over her cheek softly, her eyes filled with tears as she tried to ignore the bruised one. But her mother couldn't ignore it. It was as if she went back in time and was looking at her own reflection.

"So he can slap me whenever he seems fit?" The slap did affect her, the tiny bit of hope she had, the slap broke that too. As a kid, her parents never had their hands on her. Her father was soft for her, so he gave her everything she asked for.

"Only if you misbehave or don't listen to him," her mother tried to calm her down, but all the emotions, unfair treatment, and the slap were making her

"So he can slap me, hit me whenever he thinks my words are challenging his male ego... How weak are men? If they were strong, then they would reply with words, not their strength..."She was hysterical as he said that imagining her future, would she get slapped for even talking?

Maheen's mother's voice turned stern as she scolded her daughter. "Maheen, you must learn to respect your husband and follow his wishes. He is your husband, and you must obey him."

Maheen felt a surge of frustration and hurt at her mother's words. "But Ammi, what about my feelings? What about my rights as a human being?"

Her mother's tone remained firm. "Your rights are to obey and honour your husband. It is not for you to question or challenge his decisions."

Feeling defeated, Maheen lowered her gaze, tears welling up in her eyes. "But what if he hurts me again, Ammi? What, then?"

Her mother's expression softened slightly, but her resolve remained unwavering. "You must be patient and endure, Maheen. This is the way of our culture, and we must abide by it."

Maheen's heart sank as she realized that even her mother, her closest confidante, was not on her side. She felt utterly alone, trapped in a world where her own wishes and desires were meaningless.

____

Abdullah  grew up in Arab, his father- Jamil Khan was a labour, and got amenities by his company, so he settled in the country with his family. Jamil Khan and Sajida Khan were very much in love. His father would bring expensive gifts for his mother, throw anniversary parties, and give her whatever she wanted. At the age of ten, Abdullah had seen how his friends' parents were, and he would compare them with his. How perfect they were, his father was a gentleman, and his mother was a queen.

He joined Islamic classes, and his scholars and teachers realised how fast he absorbed the knowledge, so they promoted him from deeniyat classes to hifz. At the age of ten, Abdullah had memorized three parts of the Qur'an and translation. The verses he read taught him that a woman is not a plaything in the hand of man. but a spiritual and moral being who is entrusted to him on the sacred pledge to which Allah is made a witness.

He was a religious boy, and the country where he grew up practiced the religion as it was meant to. In the country where the prophet was born, Abdullah was fascinated by everything. But then the things at his home started changing his father came back less often, he wouldn't send letters and one day he disappeared. He was their sole provider, so his mother and him waited for his father's return for ten whole days. He remembered at once they had no food left, the money was gone, his mother fed him water and dates.

When the starvation got to them, they went to the police station and there his father was called. He didn't meet their eyes, but his mother was crying loudly when he uttered the words, 'Talaq'. That's when Abdullah understood what was happening, and later, they learnt his father married a rich Arab lady. They were devastated with no money. They were sent back home.

His mother stopped sleeping, she would cry all night, and he took the role of caretaker. He loved his mother too much, and although his missed his father, he couldn't abandon her.

He was sad too, and one day, they were invited to a baby's aqiqah. He remembered the way he held onto his shirt when he picked her up. She was crying in every guest's arms but would immediately stop crying in his. She would follow him like a shadow.

"Add-wah", she had a lisp as a toddler, so she would call his name, half the time she talked he couldn't understand what she was saying because of the lisp but he nodded his head.

In his sad, lonely life, this little kid was like a sunshine. He relived a part of his childhood with her, although young, she was extremely smart and spoilt. If things weren't her way, she would start crying, and because of this, people started calling her a 'crybaby'.

"Ab-dwah, do I cry a lot?" She once asked him with tears running down her eyes, mud on her clothes, he wanted to laugh, of course she cried on the simplest matters. But Abdullah lied, "No, you don't."

Growing up, he wanted to be a scholar, like every teenager he also had dreams. As puberty hit him, he started dreaming of his partner. But he soon realised how different the village was then the country he grew up in, they had different customs here. Many times, he saw Iqbaal Khan reprimanding his wife, slapping her in front of him, and he would flinch. The matters would be as simple as an extra tablespoon sugar or bad food.

He remembered his scholars' words, "One who can support a wife should marry." But in this village, women were treated as inferior beings, like slaves. They painted themselves as scholars, but  their words weren't from the holy book. He doubted if they had even read it once. It was all the word of mouth that spread. If they had read the book, they would have known that a female is not inferior to the male in the sense that the former is created out of a superior stuff while the latter comes of a base origin. Both man and woman are the progeny of Adam, and thus both have the same soul.

He was twenty when he learnt of his father's passing, he had no choice but to leave, but Abdullah didn't want to leave his mother in the village so they left. He attended the man's funeral and tried to forget all the anger he had for him, all the hate and pain he had passed on. Later, he joined a community college and started pursuing for his degree. He never got the time to think of the village again. Sometimes, he would miss that young girl. But apart from that, there was nothing that made him want to return.

Until he received a letter from Iqbaal Khan, he was invited to Maheen's graduation party. His mother insisted on him to go so he left, but the moment he entered the village he saw chaos. Iqbaal Khan, who came at the station, was crying, "What happened?" He had asked.

"Maheen tried to run away... they will kill her... my daughter will die. "Iqbaal took him to the panchayat, and there he saw a young girl with hazel eyes laying on the floor.

"Afshan!" She screamed his name like a plea, and Abdullah sighed, realising what was about to happen.

He steeled himself. He knew he couldn't talk sense to them. These men they were powerful. If he intervened, they would kill him too. So he stood beside Iqbaal until Jahangir Shaikh ordered for the stoning. Things happened too fast. Maheen, who was lying on the ground, suddenly started running towards Afshan His instincts kicked in, and he stopped her before she could enter the stoning zone. As he held her back, he tried to hold back his own tears. A young man was being killed without any reason.

They could have blessed the two instead of this... and as he heard Maheen's words, he felt like he was a killer just like the men in the village. His hands were trembling, but he didn't loosen his grip on her, Abdullah tried to imagine a different scene. He closed his eyes and thought of the valleys, his hospital, but the cries of the young man were making his arms tremble.

And then things stopped. He didn't have the strength to hold her anymore. She dropped on the ground.

Later, Iqbaal Khan came to him, "Abdullah... gao mai koi Maheen se shaadi nahi karega. Meri beti se nikkah karlo warna usse bhi maardenge", Abdullah didn't what to say, his hands were tied, he remembered how jolly Maheen was as a young girl. Whenever he thought of his childhood, he remembered her.

The first time he had met her was at her aqiqah. The last time wouldn't be her janazah, so he agreed.

___

Abdullah isn't a mystery anymore💔

But this chapter was important because next chapter will have Abdullah's pov. And although he seems like a perfect ml here, he isn't. He is a problematic man🤧

Some ngls I got:

Well both were forced here, dubious consent lead to that stage, it shouldn't have happened but it did. Id think a man in 1970s would have accepted the fact that his wife was compromised, not then not now.
She was cornered, it was life or ' ' idk what it is but I won't call it 'R'

I have read about this before in some ancient books about feudalism in Europe where this was a custom. But if it's still being practised then truly it's inhumane. I don't understand why do some customs revolve around a female's sexuality to this extent... th leave them alone.