WARNING: THIS CHAPTER TOUCHES ON AN EXTREMELY SENSITIVE TOPIC!

Continuation...

She then proceeded to slowly lift her blouse and the loudest gasp ever escaped Isma's lips; because from right where she stood, she could easily see them all.

The bruises!

The old ones and the way too new ones!

Rendered speechless, Isma remained rooted to the ground for a good whole minute and her mother's next loud sob is what caused her to rush towards her and hug her tightly only for her to quickly let her go the very second her mother winced due to pain.

With tears streaming down both their faces, Isma slowly and gently traced out each and every of her mother's bruises using her finger and upon seeing the millions of questions forming within her daughter's tear filled eyes, Mariam said...

"If you remember well, the first omelette I made him this morning had not been worth even his very first bite. The second omelette I made had been perfect but...but the toast...it wasn't to his taste!"

Seeing Isma immediately close her eyes due to nothing but disgust upon hearing the meagre reason behind her father's atrocity made Mariam to quickly bend down, sadly but lovingly cup Isma's cheeks and while gently wiping away her daughter's tears, she said...

"I understand you, Isma. I really do! How could I not understand you when I've been living literally every second of what you're now going through for the past twenty five years?!"

"I...I...I...ummm...I very first saw your father on our wedding day! From that very day till today, your father has NEVER EVER, leave alone affection, your father has never ever asked me even something as simple as a 'How are you?'...

"I had only just but hit sixteen when I got married and I immediately and trust me fully when I say, I IMMEDIATELY got pregnant with you..."

"Then immediately after you, I got pregnant with Husna and almost immediately after, with Hafsa..."

"For your father; I was only but a cook, a cleaner and a child bearing machine!"

"I made it through with Husna's pregnancy with lots and lots of difficulties. In fact, I barely made it through with her pregnancy but your father didn't care and that is why only a few months later, I was heavily pregnant once again despite already having a toddler and a new born baby to take care of!"

"I was still a teen, Isma! I was still a teen! Who cared though? No one!"

"Being pregnant with Hafsa and delivering her turned out to be the worst and most painful experience of my entire life..."

"I almost died that day! I had felt it..."

"However, almost dying only but meant that I was still alive and that is why weeks later we were trying for our fourth child whom I lost and soon after my fifth child whom I also lost. Both were GIRLS! ..."

"My frail body couldn't it take much longer and it wasn't long before I was told that I would never ever be able to have any more children!"

"One would have thought that maybe that would have been somewhat of a blessing in disguise for me but apparently not! That was only but a means for me to get verbally and physically tortured every single day of my life simply because I wasn't woman enough!

"I apparently, wasn't woman enough to bear your father the number of children he really wanted but deep down between me and him we both very well knew that the sole reason was only and only because...

"I had only borne him GIRLS and I had further denied him any other chances of having a boy!"

"One more year, Isma! One full more year I was continuously tortured into trying for another child but what ended up being more torturous than ever for me was the constant threat of getting replaced by another woman!"

"Another woman who apparently would be woman enough or maybe more woman than me!"

Feeling more broken than ever and with her emotions scattered literally everywhere, tears worth an ocean streamed down Isma's face as she gently tucked her head within her mother's laps and with the little amount of energy she had left, she sadly whispered out...

"How I so wish that we were born BOYS, Mom! How I so wish!"

"That would really have meant less problems for you and also less problems for me!"

"There would be no Isma and hence no Yusuf!"

A small sad laugh escaped Mariam's lips, one that didn't quite reach her eyes and as she lovingly passed her fingers through her daughter's now short hair, she said...

"NO, you silly! Even if I was to ever go back in time, I would still and always choose to have you three! You were my babies! Mine! My girls! My beautiful girls!"

"Even if it means going through all that you did?"

"Yes! Even if it means going through all that I did!"

"But why Mom? Why?"

"Because that's what it truly means to be a woman!

"NO IT DOESN'T!"

"Yes it does!"

"NO IT DOESN'T MOM AND THIS IS THE PART WHERE YOU GO TERRIBLY WRONG!"

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Mariam slowly shook her head as she wiped away her own tears and while lovingly cupping Isma's cheeks, her eyes filled with nothing but way too much concern, she said...

"Isma! My dear Isma! Please listen to me and listen to me very carefully!"

"This is what being a woman truly means and this is what it truly entails! Nothing else!"

"My mother went through the very same thing if not worse! I too went through the very same thing and you being a woman will also have to go through the very same thing!"

"Every woman out there did, is or shall!"

"No, Mom! No! This cannot at all be true. This is not how it's supposed to be! Trust me!"

"No, you trust me, Isma! You trust me! This is how it has been, this is how it is and this is how it shall always be!"

"No, Mama! No!"

Tears streamed down Isma's face as she vigorously shook her head in disapproval, her entire body shaking like a leaf due to nothing but fear causing Mariam to quickly bend down to kiss her daughter's head in a bid to soothe her and once Isma had calmed down a bit, Mariam continued...

"Do you know why I always, simply keep telling you that you are very lucky to have Yusuf? It's because I too considered myself extremely lucky to have your father!"

Not at all believing her ears, Isma quickly wiped away her tears and with nothing but immense confusion etched over every single inch of her face, she looked up at her mother and then said...

"That makes absolutely no sense!"

"Yes, it does, Isma! Yes, it does! You see, when it came to my own father, it didn't matter what, why or when; if anything or anyone irked him even in the slightest bit or even if he just was simply in the so called 'mood', he would come home straightaway and the very first thing he would do to my mother was to...SLAP HER"

"Your father never ever beats me up without a reason. No matter how petty the reason may be; but at least there always is a reason!"

"That is why I consider myself lucky!"

"My father also would always take the liberty upon himself to either beat my mother up in front of us or take her back into their room and from there Isma, from there, the screams...those were screams I have never ever been able to forget till date!"

"Your father on the other hand has never beaten me up in front of you three. In fact none of you has ever come to know, even in the slightest bit, of the monstrosities that happen to me behind closed doors!"

"That is why I consider myself lucky!"

"My father also, very much openly had other women, Isma! He never even in the slightest bit tried to hide it! He would even bring some of them home and those nights; those nights were just but one of the most disturbing. Most disturbing because my mother would simply not stop crying; not stop crying for even a second of that night!"

"Your father only but threatened me, Isma but he never ever got involved with any other woman! Till date!"

"That is why I consider myself lucky!"

Giving Isma a second or two let everything fully sink in, Mariam remained silent for a while and as much as she could clearly see Isma's unwillingness to agree with all that she had just said, she still continued...

"When it comes to Yusuf, I very much strongly believe that you truly have no idea of how lucky you truly are, Isma!"

"No, I am not at all lucky, Mom! Trust me I am not!"

"You are, Isma! You are! You see, I first saw your father on our wedding day; yet you have had the privilege of knowing Yusuf since childhood!"

"Your father never ever showered me with even the 'a' in the word affection yet Yusuf never ever refrains from showering you with even the smallest of all gestures!"

"Your father never ever waited Isma; her never, yet Yusuf waited you out all his life and is still waiting..."

"Your father..."

"No mama! NO! What of all the things Yusuf has actually done wrong? What of those?"

"He is a man, Isma! He is a man! Men tend to puzzling things...

"In fact, men are like pieces of puzzle, we women just have to reshape ourselves in order to fit in with them!"

"But I don't want to reshape myself, Mom! I don't want to reshape myself..."

"I just want to fit in perfectly! Fit in perfectly with the piece I am supposed to be with!"

"It can never ever be perfect Isma simply because there is no such piece when it comes to men and we women just have to..."

"What if there is?"

"What if there is what?"

"What if there is a man out there who actually is the perfect piece?"

"Ismaaaaa..."

With tears still streaming down her face, Isma looked up at the ceiling almost as if staring out into space and as she tried her hardest to blink back her tears, she said...

"You know Mom, at my work place, the men. The men there are so different! So very different. They are respectful, they are caring, they are..."

"Isma!"

"Yeah?"

"Are your father and Yusuf the same people whilst in public and whilst behind closed doors?"

Literally every pint of blood drained from Isma's face as she answered for herself the question and the very little progress she had made when it came to her prejudice towards men simply went down the drain within seconds.

All men were the same!

They just pretended well!

Feeling completely shattered, Isma cried more and more while continuously asking only one and one question...

"Why Mom why? Why does it have to be this way? Simply why?"

"I am sorry, Isma! I am really sorry my child!"

They both then tightly hugged each other as they cried their heart out only for them to pull apart and for Isma's eyes to grow wide with fear, the very second the doorbell rang and the very second her youngest sister shouted from the hallway...

YUSUF IS HERE!

TO BE CONTINUED...

***

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UNTIL NEXT TIME,

ASALAM ALEIKUM