C ON T I N U A T I O N

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A F T E R the maulvi sahab had left the house, performing the matrimonial rites, all hell broke loose. Hoor, who was still sitting inside her bedroom, was still clueless as hell. She had no idea what had happened and why was the groom changed in the last minute. The look of anger on her mother's face and her father's short, curt sentences were a clear indication that things were not at all right.

Her father gripped her forearm, bringing her out of the room and onto the stage with force. It was not at all how she expected things to go. She had thought it would perhaps be the best day of her life, clearly she had thought wrong. Her elder brother, Ali, stood in the corner of their yard. Sporting a smug look, his smirk being the highlight of his face.

"Ammi huwa kia hai?" She asked, feeling sick at the looks the guests were giving her.
"Chori aur upar sai sina zori? Wah!" Ali slow clapped his way to the front of the crowd.
"Kia matlab? Ammi aap batain na! Rizwan kid-"
"BAQWAS BAND KAR LARKI!" Her father slapped her.

Never in her whole life had any of her parents raised their voice at her, let alone slap her. This was all so unexpected. She was clueless. The slap cause her skin to redden instantly, the muscles still vibrating as a result of the sheer force that he had used.

"Hoor itni masoom mat ban. Sab tera sach jantay hain!" Her ammi gritted.
"Likin-" Hoor was cut off.
A load of pictures were thrown at her. One managing to cut her cheek slightly, causing an instant sting to buzz. The pictures fell on the floor. Laying limp on her feet. Hoor bent down, grabbing one of them up. They were pictures of her and Mustafa. All taken a few days prior. Hoor was baffled. Someone had been stalking the two, taking pictures that reflected only half the truth.

"Ammi, baba yeh jhut hai," Hoor tried to defend herself.
"Chup. Eik aur lafz nahi. Tumhara shohar bhi yahi sab keh chuka hai. Par aank sai sachai dekhi hai. Behtar yahi hai keh chup kar jao. Jatay jatay humaray liye mushkilat mat paida karo!" Ali joined his hands, raising them infront of her. As if asking for forgiveness.
"Par bhai-"
"Mein tum jaisi larki ka bhai ho hi nahi sakta!" Ali spewed venom.
Not thinking how much this would hurt his beloved sister who had done nothing but support him at all times.

Her father having had enough of it all, grabbed Hoor's hand, pushing it into Mustafa's. Their hands were a total 180. Hoor's were nimble and small. The skin being soft but still slightly coarse due to all the work she did on a daily basis. Meanwhile, Mustafa had big hands with slender fingers, the fingertips calloused due to their constant use.

Mustafa looked up at her. His eyes shining with awe. She looked exactly like what her name meant. A Hoor. He had tried to defend her honour, but this was a society where everyone ganged up on the innocent. Instantly worrying about marriages rather than thinking about the possibility of being true or not.

Mustafa could not understand why Hoor's parents were not accepting her. They were the ones that had raised her. So truly speaking, they should have trusted her without even asking any questions. How could photographs, that in this age of technology, could easily be edited, break that bond of trust?

Hoor looked at Mustafa. Due to the fact that he was sitting, she was shoulder level with him. Her eyes held a glint of thankfulness in them. She looked at him with a small smile on her face. Even with the tears forming in her eyes, Mustafa had never seen a more breathtaking sight.

"Arrey Jahan-ara baaji aap ko tou uss bachi ka shukar karna chahiye keh usnay Hoor ki sachai dikha di. Warna shaadi keh baad pata nahin kia kia tanay sunnay partay aapko!" One of the neighbourhoods gossip queen walked upto her.
Humiliating her under the farce of saying consoling words.
"Behtar hai mun band rakho. Warna tumharay betay keh kissay bhi mashoor-e-zamana hain," Jahan-ara retorted.
The woman rolled her eyes, immediately moving out of their home. Knowing that there was no use in staying there anymore.

Hoor and Mustafa faced her father. Who was looking at them with reddened eyes. Hoor has never seen him that disappointed in her. He was the one who always gushed over her. Praising her for all that she did. He was her number one supporter. Being her cheerleader in whatever she wanted to do. And today, he stood with eyes full of disgust looking at her.

"Hoor humein nahin pata keh tumhari tarbiat mein humne kia ghalti kardi. Kabhi nahin socha tha tum itni ghatiya harkat karo gi. Kam az kam eik dafa keh hi deti iss rishtay sai khush nahin ho. Hum kabhi tumhari zabardasti shaadi na kartay. Par aaj tumne mera maan, meri mohabbat, meray laad, sab ki laaj ko khatam kar diya hai. Mein aaj apnay aap sai ainay mein ankhein milanay keh qabil nahin raha". Jamal spoke, with voice full of emotions.
"Nahin baba. Aisa mat kahein!" Hoor spoke, tears falling from her eyes.

"Chup Hoor. Bas eik dam chup. Mujhe tum par fakhar tha. Keh meri beti jasi koi nahi. Aaj dil karta hai kaash meri koi beti hoti hi na!" Jamal's words broke Hoor.
She began sniffling. Not believing that her father would actually say those words to her face.

"Allah ka shukr hai yeh mera apna khoon nahin hai. Shukr hai saagi maa mar gai. Warna bechari ka kia hota?" Jahan-ara spoke loudly.
Hoor began to sob. The tears not stopping. The sheer hatred that the words dripped with, made her understand she would never be her parents Hoor ever again. They had denounced their ties with her in a manner so cruel and ugly. All for the sake of a few fake pictures.

"Mustafa sahab. Isko le kar jaiye!" Jamal spoke in just above a whisper.
"Magar aap ko ghalat fehmi huwi hai. Jab tak woh khatam nahi hoti-" Mustafa tried to reason.
"Dekho sahab hum ghareeb hain. Yeh shashkay aap keh haan hotay hon gai. Humaray haan tasweer ladki koi ghalti karay, woh saari zindagi saath chalti hai. Le jain isko iss sai pehlay dhakay maar kar nikalen!" Ali shouted.
This was the perfect chance for him to take out his anger on both his sister and Mustafa, his brother-in-law. And he was an opportunistic man. He would not let chances like this go.

Raees began wheeling Mustafa out of the house. He would not let his friend stay in a place that did not respect him. Turning towards Hoor, he tried to convince her.
"Bhabhi aap ajain. Hum aap keh ghar walun keh sab shikway dur karein gai. Par abhi behtar hai keh aap chalein humaray saath," gesturing for his mother to bring Hoor out.
His mother nodded. Wrapping a shawl around her, guiding her out. Hoor's body was working on auto pilot. She had no idea what was happening. Her mind in override. No sooner had she stepped foot into the car, her parents came out.
"Hoor, aaj sai tumhara humara koi rishta nahin! Aaj keh baad iss taraf ka rukh bhi mat karna. Mar gai ho tum humaray liye!" The words her father shouted, broke her down once again. The tears that she had controlled, fell again.

Mustafa wanted to console her. However, he knew that it was not the time. He needed to make her used to his presence. So he passed her a handkerchief he kept with himself. Hoor passed him a smile, wiping the tear marks away. Looking at her home, that she could never visit again.

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