It's been sooo long since I updated.

Happy Eid to everyone! I hope you have a blessed day and the time after.

***

You never know how people see you and perhaps they see the best in you while you find the worst in yourselves.

That is a good saying for some. People with confidence or insecurities might be able to find comfort in those words.

Not her.

For her, she remembers a specific stanza from a poet she tends to seek comfort from,

'Dil ko khush rakhne ko, Ghalib, yeh khayaal achcha hai' (Translation: if this fable
provides cold comfort, then
the thought’s not bad. Not bad at all)

Because when we desperately seek comfort we tend to find anything even the bare minimum to hold on to. However, she knows exactly how people think of her. It wasn't a mystery to her when people have been vocal about her life and the choices she made. About her sins and reflection, she had. Everyone had something to say until someone can finally break her down and tear her apart to rejoice in the happiness of finally succeeding in the plan they had all along.

*

Major Rabee Hussain, was an amazing hard-working man in the army. His presence was cold, dark and calculated and whenever he had people around, his presence demanded respect irrespective of gender, age or geography.

At the age of thirty, the man was still thriving and fairly good looking. His eyes were clear charcoal burning with a deep fire that scares everyone away from him. With zero mission failed since he was active in service, he had served his nation with dignity.

There was never an occurrence of events he couldn't handle. He always has plans and strategies. He has seen worse of humans and cruelty at its finest. But nothing ever fazed him. With years, if something changes, it was his presence enveloping the constant darkness around him.

It is an unpopular opinion that people in the army tend to block out emotions- they do for the most part. But, in the end, emotions are what allow them to serve their nation. To think selflessly about the security of those who sleep at night while they (army people) stay awake to protect them. To think about the generation growing up knowing they can be safe in the place they live in.

That is an idealistic and optimistic thought that is drilled into their minds. The truth was far from it. The country he served for years with his blood and sweat only turned out to be a hideous place for humans to live.

He might not know the news about the place but he has a clear idea of how people were abused, killed, oppressed and slaved every single day. How many hearts bleed because of another person. How people were asking for deaths instead of safety.

He remove his hat as he stands in front of his door and he heard a loud bang from the other side to his right his head immediately moved to see the reason and in case there is some danger that followed him back to his home.

His eyes zeroed on the woman walking out covered in black Abaya and hijab. Her face was shielded most protectively by the black cloth. Her body was covered by the layer shielding her away from the dirt of the world and the way she held her head high brimmed a pride that someone was proud of who they were.

She locks the door turning towards the gate of her house which will open the door to the inevitable abyss that her clothing won't be able to protect her from. The way he wore his uniform as his pride, she wore her Lord's orders on her with pride.

Just as she made her way towards the gate her head turn towards him. She seemed unaware of his constant stare jerk at the moment their eyes clashed.

Black with Brown. Two opposites, plain and somehow identical colours.

She was quick to duck her head running out of the gate as if he was going to lit fire around her. And perhaps, if she waited longer, he would have. Not in the real sense of course just theoretically speaking.

He heard the door opening to his home and he heard the neverending greeting of the two women (His mother and younger sister). He was accustomed to women speaking for endless hours especially when he was around. He had heard all kinds of mindless chatting since he was old enough to understand things.

His younger sister- Roza is a vibrant and fun-loving woman. He was proud of the fact that his single mother was able to raise them so well. His sister was married to a his cousin (uncle son) when she turned twenty-three (now she is 28) and a beautiful daughter Sumaiya (3) with a new born son (Hamza).

He was glad about the fact that his small family was closed and happy together. He looks at his house now decorated for his arrival. The lights were a little too much in his opinion. For his mother and sister- he was someone they were beyond proud of. And, he lives to lead that kind of life.

The life he can control and monitor. The life where his every breathe is either to concur with the enemies or to be proud of the person he became.

He heard the door opening and guests coming in. For all he knows, he wants a little peace after the trip he has. The trip was filled with loudest, blood and desperation. He would like to come to his home where there was no more noise and peace. That's all he wants after the life he is meant to live.

"How was your trip?" His cousin- Zainab asked looking at him in wonders he never understands

Even though most of his life was spent in the middle of two women. Those were his sister so their behaviour was different from the women he encounter out in the world. He tries to understand and maintain a limit, sometimes it gets hard.

His face remains stonic at her words, not giving any emotions away, "Good".

Zainab giggles, "Just good? I heard you were going to be promoted after this trip".

He bites his tongue because he has no idea who supplies this information to the world cause he sure won't let the world interfere or comment on his expense.

"You will know after I get a promotion". He wanted to move away from her and he looks over at his mother and sister for help who were simply watching them

What?

He frowns because he didn't like the look in everyone's eyes as they look at them. He hates when he is forced to speak to someone. As he was ready to get away from the woman who spoke constantly without a break his sister spoke, "Did you hear about the woman who lives across from us?"

He stilled.

He saw how everyone was now focusing on the next words his sister has to say and somehow the way his sister started the said topic didn't settle well with him. There was an undertone that he had often heard whenever he was on a mission and in front of enemies.

"I heard that she is not a good woman. She has men coming to her door. And-".

He knew he should have stopped his sister right when she brought someone who is not here name into the conversation.

"I believe that it doesn't concern". His voice was stern

"Bhai, you don't see how people will look at us if she continues to live across from us?" His sister pleaded and he narrows his eyes at her actions, "You know what they say about woman who dresses like her".

His jaw tickled, "No. Why don't you enlighten me on what they say about a woman who dresses as their Lord's orders?"

"Don't make me the bad person".

"I am doing that?" He raises his perfect eyebrows at her blunt accusations about her actions

"Yes. I am your sister. I am not a bad person". He holds the urge to roll his eyes

"What exactly were you trying to say, Roza. I don't want to hear excuses. I don't have time for that".

The whole room was filled with eerily silence that no one dared to break. He could hear the way his sister was breathing fire at his words. And, how everyone was sitting straighter scared of the next words his sister will say and the reaction he will have to them.

He wasn't even sure himself. He had heard enough gossip for the first eighteen years of his life. Though, in his younger years, he was immune and not sure how he was supposed to take people, gossip or anything in general. Years of training (not for the army) in religious beliefs and aspects. Staying in areas filled with wars but high on their religious values, he understands a lot more now.

Judging was and never will be part of our religion. Instead, gossip, character assassination and any other form of harm even by words is a sin that only the said person can give forgiveness for, not even the Lord. Unless the said person forgives whether he/she was present when the words were said or not, the person who gossips about them will be accountable for their words.

"You know what they say about women who dress that way". His sister screeched, "They say they are vile women. Women who hold no dignity and dirty the society by allowing men to use them as they please".

His body stays rigid at his sister's admission and he has to force the bile that rises in his throat down. He was so proud of the woman his sister was just a moment ago. Now, as he watches the fury in her eyes, no shame in the words she utters and her persistence to fight her brother over her mini gossip session he didn't take part in, said a little too much.

Perhaps, he did fail. While saving the world, he fails to realize that he was meant to raise a human that will carry the next generation. He fails to raise his sister as a woman who contributes to society through her high values and does not degrade/defame others. He fails at everything.

He did save his nation but he felt like a failure knowing how he lost to his sister after winning all the battles.

"Do you have proof of your claims?" His words were plain not wanting to show his sister how much the effects of this failure has on him

"Proof?"

"Yes. You do realize that once you die you will have to provide proof of all the things you claimed in this world? Especially about people? That you will be asked to provide proof of people you spoke badly about. And, if, and for sure you fail to do so there will be harsh consequences. So, let me ask again, do you have proof of your claim, Roza?

The next few minutes were spent with his sister crying and weeping while complaining about how her brother has made her look like a bad person. How does her brother defend anyone besides his sister?

He sighs.

He sits on the couch when his mother walked in.

"We failed, Ammi".

"What do you mean?"

"Did you see how she was speaking of other women? She has a daughter and she didn't stop to think if it was her daughter accused of something similar how will she feel. That woman or any other is someone's child. We don't know anything to base our accusations on. And my sister gossiping and claiming such things so freely says we fail to raise her better".

"She is just immature-".

"That's not an excuse to claim such indecent things. You think with the way she was defending and whining she will ever learn that she did something wrong. For all I know she will be worse".

"Don't stress yourself. She will learn eventually".

"No". He said placing his head against the couch, "We were supposed to teach her young and we didn't. We always let her get her ways and do what she wants that now she thinks it is something she has right to do". He cracks his stiff body, "I am going to sleep. Don't do any more parties please".

As he lays on the bed after praying he couldn't help but wonder about a few things. The first was that even though he thought or could think of his sister's words as harmless gossip. He knows for sure they weren't. To build respect takes years, to lose it takes a second. A second can change one's life.

Second, he thought about if his neighbour knows the gossip? Were their men actually coming to her door? What for? He doesn't think there was something wrong happening but there should be a reason for someone to knock on her door.

Third, why does he care? He has been able to steer clear of confusing things. And, the neighbour seems to be one of them.

He should have told his mother that parties don't necessarily mean a place where people gather, eat and talk. Because now he is sitting at the table opposite his cousin and their family looking at him. It was strange the way they continue to stare at him.

"Is there a problem?" He asked, frowning

"What is your plan for your leave?" His uncle asked

He shrugged, "I need to rest, exercise, plan and do some of the duties".

"When do you plan to settle down?"

"When I feel like it".

"You should consider it now. You are thirty and you are not becoming young. You are already late to marriage and I wonder who will agree to marry you. But, you need to think about family. If you have a child at such old age you won't be there for him long enough".

There was so much wrong in that lecture.

"How do you know it's him?" He asked watching his uncle glared at him

"Your father had you before your sister".

"That doesn't say anything. We all are educated people who know that it depends on our Lord as to what he gifts us with".

"There is nothing wrong in having a daughter. But, you should have a son before her. It makes it easier".

"Easier, how?"

"Rabee". His mother scolded

"No. I want to know". He said as his eyes hardened

It wasn't a norm. The places he was located in often has men forcing women to have a son. He has seen too many heartbreaks, pain and suffering of women who should be enjoying motherhood.

"He will grow sooner. He can help you with matters".

"My son is not obliged to help me. I have a responsibility by bringing him into this world, not him. Secondly, our Prophet prominent said that a daughter as firstborn is a blessing and I would rather have a beautiful strong daughter first. Lastly, I am not going to be one of those men who force women into believing that without having a son they are worthless. They are women who are beyond strong and powerful to even give birth to a child, something we can't do or comprehend. So, what we should as men and that is the least we can do is to appreciate".

He saw the anger flaring in his uncle's eyes and it wasn't something new. His uncle was always at his head since his father passed away when he was ten. According to his uncle, he was now responsible to raise him. So, he did what every other person who gets a young innocent child under their care did.

Abuse.

He was often hit for small things. He didn't understand the bargain of purchasing groceries from the market or the rates the things were bought. So, once, he bought a thing just two rupees extra of the original price and he was beaten.

His mother never interfere because she was alone. She had to do what everyone told her. She allowed her son to be beaten. And because her uncle took over her father's shop and only give her a little allowance at the end of the month. He understands now that money buys everything. In a way, it bought his mother's rights over him.

"We decided that you will marry my daughter". His uncle declared

He wasn't given a choice.

"No". He said pushing his plate away, "I am not a thing. I never liked your daughter or showed any interest so I don't know where you decided this from. You never asked my choice either".

"You will do as I say". His uncle screamed, "Or I will break all contact with your family".

"Go ahead".

"Rabee". His mother pleaded

He pushes the chair away walking out of the house to the backside. He wasn't coming home for all of this. He wanted to have some peace, that's all.

He turns around when his eyes fell on the woman he saw yesterday. As she closes the door behind her and the man in front of her takes out the envelope handing it to her. They didn't speak and the man nodded before walking off.

He frowns not sure what the envelope was about and the fact that he should be minding his business. He saw a few other people looking at the scene unfold and he can tell they like doing that a lot.

He shakes his head heading back to his house to face the villain of his life.

It was late at night when he heard a loud banging on the front door. Unfortunately, his sister is married to Zainab's brother which means anything he apposed will directly affect his sister's life. So, his sister was sent back home until he agrees to marry Zainab. Nothing new. He knew he shouldn't have said yes to the proposal but apparently, his sister was in undying love with the man.

Anyways, he clears the fog from his mind walking towards the front door when he heard a low soft voice whimpering.

"Please, I saw a man in uniform before and I need his help. I can't call anyone else". She pleaded to his sister once he came in view and her eyes didn't even register his presence

"I don't care. Get out of our house and take your dirty self outside". His sister yelled

"Please, please, save me. There is a man inside my house, please".

And, that was all he need to hear.