R A I N pelted harshly on the windows in the middle of the night. Hoor, who had been engrossed in her prayers, stood up from the prayer mat abruptly. Running out of her small room, her feet carried her to the rooftop at the speed of a Cheetah. The soles slapping on the cemented floors.

As the laundry had been done late in the evening, the clothes had not dried and not believing the weather forecast, had been left hanging overnight to fully dry. However, the bone dry weather had turned into a full blown fiasco. She was completely drenched in rain within a few seconds. Ignoring the chill however, Hoor continued to pile the large amount of clothing on her shoulder.

Due to the water that had been absorbed by them, Hoor began to feel a dull ache in her shoulder. Coming downstairs, into her room, she placed them into the corner, spreading them out so that they will dry overnight. Then changing out of her own clothes, she used a worn out towel to dry her body and change into a black shalwar suit. [Traditional wear]

Laying down on her thin straw bed, Hoor took the thin duvet over her body and turned to her right side. Reciting Aayat-ul-Kursi [a Quranic verse, recited for protection] she blew it on herself and on her bedroom walls, she closed her heavy eyelids.

The tightness of her muscles and strained eyes all relaxed as she finally got sometime to take some down time. Hoor sighed as the ache became uncomfortable. What she would give to just have a soft feather bed for one day.
As soon as her lids fell atop the each other and the lashes collided with each other, Hoor lost conscious. Falling into a deep sleep.

K A M A L H O M E, D H A, L H R
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SENSITIVE CONTENT
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Mustafa lay in bed. Surrounded by silence. The downpour outside soothed his nerve a bit. The nature could withstand such havoc and yet man was so weak that their fragility really made him question their position as Ashraf-al-Makhlooq [the best of the creatures]. His heart was burdened day in and day out.

As a person, the thing his heart most desired was love. Unfortunately, he was different and so was deemed unworthy of love. He sometimes like to sit and wonder how it would feel to have feet that could actually support his weight and cause him to walk to and fro. He thought about how it felt like to run freely in the meadows. His brain made him imagine all sorts of scenarios. How it would be like for a woman to love him. Kiss him, caress him and support him unconditionally.

Unfortunately, the rational part of him would always end up winning. Constantly shouting at him
"MUSTAFA you are paralysed. No one wants a man who can not walk with them in a mall. Take a stroll with them in a park. You need a lot of care. No one looks for a man to be his nurse" .
It was thoughts like these that did not do wonders for his mental health.

It is part of human nature to humiliate those that are different. Mankind has made boundaries. To break them, it seems impossible when it really is not. So it was no surprise that Mustafa was constantly bullied by his fellow students.

In his teen years, Mustafa was enrolled in Aitchison College, one of Lahore's most prestigious educational institutions for boys. The school was full of snobby sons of government officials and business men. In this atmosphere of alpha men, a dog eats dog ambiance, it was expected. Each day Mustafa would wake up and feel tormented. He would think of excuses to not go to school. His wheelchair, would constantly be pushed around by students. His lunchbox would be thrown into the ground.

And on Friday's when horse riding class happened, the young boys did not forget to slander and taunt him. The word "mazoor" [handicapped] became his identity. It was ignored that he won the school multiple MUN trophies. Or that he scored amazing results and got into some of the top universities. His physical incapability was who he was.

For a long time, Mustafa believed that to be the truth. It was not until Rizwan had found him in his room, crying hysterically one day that his road to recovery began. Rizwan was present around him all times. Yet he never acted like he was walking on eggshells. In-fact Rizwan was the only one who treated him like a normal person at all times. He would take him to his physical therapy appointments and to his psychiatrist every week without fail. Rizwan became the mother and the father that he needed.

Mustafa grabbed the glass of water from his floating nightstand. His toned upper body, moved around as he looked around for his phone. Finally grabbing it, he placed it onto its wireless charger and closed his eyelids.

It was as if his demons, all along had been waiting for him to face the dark abyss that were his dreams. All night, without fail, Mustafa would dream about the fateful night. The day that took each and everything he held precious away from him. The night he was orphaned. The night he lost feelings in his legs. All he would see were the bodies and a whole bunch of blood. He would beat himself up mentally sometimes, wondering why did he not do something. Despite having been told "it was not your fault," by everyone, he still had a difficult time believing it.

Just like everyday, Mustafa woke up a sweaty mess. The dream had come again. It had left him feeling helpless again. He could not wish but to just forget everything for just one day. Sadly, life was not that forgiving.

SENSITIVE CONTENT ENDS
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Mustafa lay wide awake in bed for an hour. Waiting for Rizwan to enter.
"Assalamualikum Mustafa bhai,"
[Peace be on you, Mustafa bro]
Rizwan greeted from the door.
"Waalikumassalam,"
[Peace be on you too]
he nodded his head. The exhaustion hitting him hard.
"Raat ko theek sai soye nahi?"
[Did you not sleep comfortably last night?]
Rizwan asked like a worried mother.
"Sahi soya tha bas woh sapna hai keh jaan hi nahi chodta,"
[I slept fine. Just that dream does not leave me alone],
Mustafa replied, in a depressed tone.
"Allah ko yaad kiya karo sab maslay hal ho jaye gain".
[Remember God. All your troubles will end].
Rizwan schooled him.
"Allah tou bachpan sai hi meri-"
[God from my childhood has-]
"Mustafa bhai, Allah sab ki sunta hai. Aap phir sai bula lar tou dekhein".
[Mustafa bro, Allah listens to everyone. Call on Him once again].
Rizwan tried to convince him.

"Rizwan chodo yeh mamla. Mein behas nahi karna chahta,"
[Rizwan forget about this case. I do not want to start a fight]
Mustafa murmured.
"Chalein theek hai. Ab uthein aaj therapy par jana hai na,"
[Alright, now get up have to go to therapy today]
Rizwan pulled his cheek out of admiration and love.

Grabbing him by the shoulders, Rizwan carried him to his wheelchair, wheeling him to his washroom. Beginning his morning routine. Dressing him in a sweatshirt and sweatpants, Rizwan took him straight to the car, where Jamal was already waiting for them. On therapy days, it was a tradition for the duo to eat greasy McDonalds breakfast rather than home made, just to live their young adulthood days once again.

The car rolled off the tarmac smoothly, however, seeing the unusually quiet driver and the absent Madam Noor Jahan tune "nehar aale pull te" [the pull on the canal] both the men sitting in the backseat understood something was wrong.

"Jamal sahab sab khariat hai na?"
[Jamal sir, is everything alright?]
Mustafa asked out of courtesy. The man was like a wise old friend rather than a driver. Jamal had been driving Mustafa around for ten years without fail.
"Han kuch nahi bachay,"
[Yes. Nothing child]
Jamal brushed it off.
"Aisay kaisay nahi! Are aaj tou subah subah Madam keh gaanon ka deedar bhi nahi huwa!"
[What do you mean! This morning we did not even get to hear Madam's songs!]
Rizwan added his two cents to the conversation.
"Bas beta thodi pareshani hai,"
[Just son there is some tension]
Jamal sighed.
"Batain tou sahi. Shaid hum madad kar sakain".
[Tell us. Perhaps we may be able to help]
Mustafa tried to convince him.

"Beta ghar mein beti ho aur jehaiz na ho. Parishani tou hoti hai na phir-"
[Son there is a daughter in my home. And when you do not have dowry, then tension is inevitable-]
Jamal gave a bit of background before going in full detail about the events that had occurred.
"Jamal sahab fiqr mat karein. Hum aaj hi masla hal karte hain!"
[Jamal sir do not be troubled. We will find a solution today]
The wheels in Rizwan's mind already turning as he glanced at the hunk who sat next to him.

J A M A L H O U S E, ANDROON LHR

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Jahan-ara was ecstatic. She was sitting i her spot. Shouting around about how things should be done. Hoor was told to fry kebabs and spring rolls. Bring chilled cold drinks and then get ready in a beautiful outfit. Sahab [sir] was going to arrange a marriage for her.

Hoor prayed in her heart for Allah to not take that smile off of her mother's face. She may be a rough and tough type of a woman, but in her heart she truly cared about them like they were her own blood.

Hoor smiled at her mother. Kissing her on the forehead, Hoor murmured
"Ammi aap ki khushi ko nazar na lagay".
[Mother, may your happiness never be subject to evil eye]
Jahan-ara smilingly added,
"Ameen. Aur teri bhi khushiyan kabhi khatam na ho!"
[Amen. And may your happiness never end]

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