"Why do you visit the bazaar everyday?" Her mother asked, as they sat on the swing looking outside at the passing tongas and vehicles. Seher turned to face her, "Sukoon milta hai... (I feel peace)".

Her mother gave her a look, and Seher laughed, "Why are you looking at me like that?"

A mother knows everything, the lovestruck look in her eyes, her mother had recognised it before and she recognised it now. "Do you remember Haroon?"

Seher sighed, "Ofcourse, I was stupid then"

"And Seher you are being stupid now", she was a kid then and Haroon was her way out of this hell, this prison her father had trapped her in.

Seher looked at her mother, the lines under her eyes, the wrinkles on her forehead and shook her head laying her head on her mother's lap. "I was always stupid, that day I didn't leave because..."

Her mother brought her lips to her forehead, her eyes teary, "Because of me... this is my request to you, this craziness please end it. I can't lose you, you are my Seher"

All her life, she had sacrificed herself, her dreams for her family. She wouldn't have returned to her village if it wasn't for other girls of the village. Seher was selfless, an empath when it came to people and many a times people took advantage of her kind heartedness.

"Seher... why did you name me Seher?" She asked with curiousity, her mother smiled her eyes having a distant look, "When I was pregnant your father used to take me out into the fields at dawn.. I wanted a kid as beautiful as dawn. You my Seher are the dawn of my life, of everyone's life, the one that comes after darkness".

She was her mother's dream, an escape from this life and Saahil was hers.

Dreams of him made her feel alive, made her smile, made her forget her scars, scars given to her by her husband. He was the reason she visited the bazaar everyday, was the reason she felt peace.

"Ammi I am sorry... I can't stop dreaming. This madness, this craziness is keeping me alive. I can't let go of it, I might die if I stopped dreaming. I am tired... your Seher is tired, tired of being everyone's light. Tired of sacrificing her dreams for others. Ammi tell me in me you found your dawn because that's what you were looking for, I am looking for end of the sea, for peace. For my shore... that's what calm means to me".

"Your father will either kill you or him", her mother warned, Seher looked at her mother seriousness taking over, "Maar kha khakar jeeney se accha hai khud ke liye mar jau mai. Aur maar toh mujhe ussi din tha jiss din us jaanwar se mera nikkah karwaya tha, zalil kiya usne, maar peeta, mera bacha kha gaya. Ghin aati hai Ammi jab bhi woh paas aata hai, jab bhi chuta hai, uski baatein itni ghinoni hoti, uska gussa sab, aap bataye konsa baap aisa hota jo khud ki beti ko janwaar ke hawale karde. Woh jaante they ki mere saath aisa hoga.. (I can't bear his abuse, I would prefer to die once for all, on my own terms. And I died on the day Baba forced me to marrt that animal, he had mentally, physically and emotionallu abused me, he killed my child. His touch digusts me, whenever he comes closer or touches me I feel violated. He releases his frustrations on me. How could a father force his own daughter to marry a monster? He knew what kind of man Saad was.. then why?", she caught her mother's hands, her eyes tearing up, "I feel violated even when he looks at me, father married me off to a monster. He forces me..."

Her mother wiped away Seher's tears, "Pichli baar tu aayi thi toh aisi koi baat nhi ki thi. Ab kyun? (Last time you came over you never said anything about this? Why now? ) Is it because of Ayesha's son? Does that scare you? My dear Seher don't give up try to make a place in Saad's heart, all this poetry, all these dreams is 'zinah', Allah won't forgive you".

She was done with her mother, with the conversation.

"And you think Allah would forgive the way Saad treated me, the way he murdered his own sister, his kid and would Allah forgive Baba for forcing me to marry this man? Think Mama... think. Allah has set a path for me, but I am weak, I can't endure like all the women of this town. The scar on your forehead, Mama I know it wasn't from the cabinet, the scar on Naani's leg, both of us know it wasn't from her falling down the stairs..."

___

"General Sahib...", Zafar Shaikh his younger brother called him, who was lost in his thoughts. His trembling hands held his walking stick as he looked at yet another couple. It was almost every other week, a girl would be caught running, Jahangir Shaikh made decisions on land as well but now they were all the same.

"Yes, Naira why did you run away?" He asked coldly, now judging the woman. Naira was married to Ahmed Ali, a married woman tried to run away with a school teacher. Her husband stood behind, the school teacher Khalid was a respected man, he had his bachelors in physics and was recently transferred to the governmemt school.

"I don't love my husband", she replied knowing it was either her or her lover who would lose his life, she couldn't love her husband of twenty years but she fell for Khalid in three months. And she couldn't let him die, her tearful eyes went to her husband, and then to her lover a smile appearing on her lips, "The teacher is he not responsible for this?"

Naira shook her head, "I am responsible for this, I wasn't happy in my marriage. I seduced Khalid and you know how it goes..."

Naira was a silent one, she spoke less, rarely rebelled, so when her last words fell Jahangir Shaikh for the first time fell the impact, "This village will soon turn into a graveyard. A graveyard created all because of you, you won't realise it now, but Saahib one day your hands would tremble to throw the stone, when it is your own daughter. Your daughter will pay for your sins..."

___

The war with Pakistan was over, but the losses were not. The bodies of the fallen soldiers returned in wooden caskets, draped with the Indian flag. In the bazaar, a solemn parade was held to honor their sacrifice. Seher heard the news from the radio announcements and ran to the scene, hoping against hope that he was not among them.

She ran to the bazaar, pushing through the crowd, searching for his face. She saw the caskets, draped with the Indian flag, carried by the mourners. She saw the names of the soldiers And then she saw his. His casket was near the end, and she recognized his name. She gasped and felt a pang in her chest. She rushed to his side, tears streaming down her face. She reached out to touch the casket, to feel his presence, to say goodbye.

But before she could, someone stopped her. A man in uniform, with a stern look.

"Who are you?" he asked. "What is your relation to him?"

Seher was speechless. She had no answer. She had met him in person only twice. She had no claim on him, no right to mourn him.

She turned away, feeling the eyes of the crowd on her.

She couldn't sleep that night. She tossed and turned in her bed, haunted. She felt a void in her soul that nothing could fill.

She went to her father the next morning, her eyes meeting his. "Baba, I need your help... I have a request," he was sipping his tea, placing it on the table he nodded his head.

"What is it, beta?" he asked, looking at her with concern, realising the look on her face. It was his guilt, his regret of marrying his daughter to a man who disrespected him, if he could disrespect the General of the village, Jahangir wondered how he treated his poor daughter. The rumours flying around were making him worried to, Saad was a bad news for her. He had chosen the wrong man for her... he destroyed her life.

She gulped sitting down beside him, her mother who realised she was absent came running out. Seher looked into her eyes, and her mother nodded her head. "He is dead... his body arrived in the casket. Baba, please let me visit his grave... for once."

"Who is dead?"

His wife came down the stairs, his attention went to her, "what are you doing here?"

There was an anger in his voice, as if she was a possession even at this age Jahangir Shaikh caged the poor woman. Her head was covered, her clothes were loose but still his tone let it show.

He stood up, "Go inside right now!" She didn't listen, "Not today"

His eyes widened at her refusal, she had never stood up infront of him. Jahangir had forgotten this wasn't just his wife, she was Seher's mother too. She couldn't bare her daughter's tears, "Take her to the burial site or else I will divorce you"

With that she pulled Seher's hand and took her in her room. Wiping away her daughter's tears, "You shouldn't have done it", she didn't want her mother to suffer anymore.

"I didn't do it just for you. Seher after a certain age, if your husband beats you, he doesn't respect you, even your bones start giving up. Ab taqat nhi in haddiyon mai maar khaaney ke liye... mera bhi man karta hai ki mera shauhar mujhse pyaar se baat karein ek baar aakar baith jaye ghanton jo uske pair dabati hu ussi pair se laat marta hai tab bohot ajeeb sa lagta hai...  kya hai meri ahmiyat uske aagey?(my bones don't have the strength to endure his abuse even I wish for my husband to talk to me with respect. For hours I massage his legs what for? For him to kick ms with those very legs.)"

Seher wiped away her mother's tears, "Saath mai bhaagey Ammi? (Should we runaway together?"

"Kidhar? (Where?)" Her mother raised her eyebrows, "Kisi darya kinhare, Saahil ke paas, seher k waqt (Near a seashore, at dawn"

There was a knock on the door, Seher dried her face and exited the room there stood her father wearing his uniform, "I have to pay respect to some deceased soldiers... you should come with me".

He was looking at the ground, and she saw vulnerability on his face. There was guilt, there was shame and remorse.

They reached the place where the soldiers were buried. It was a vast field of white stones, each with a number and a date. No names, no flowers, no epitaphs. Just cold and impersonal markers of death with indian flags on top.

Her father led her to his grave. It was number 27. She knelt down and touched the stone, feeling its roughness. She smiled sadly. She didn't know him personally, but felt like she knew his heart. He gave her a dream to live in, for the past year every trauma she endured only because of his promise to return. She lived, because she was awaiting his return. To meet him again and salute him.

She respected him for his bravery and his service. He would always have a place in her heart.

She took out the letter she had written for him, the first and last one. She had hoped to give it to him in person, to see him smile, to see his dimples. But fate had other plans. She placed the letter on his grave, as a final goodbye.

She stood up and walked away, wiping her tears. She didn't look back.

She didn't notice the man who was watching her from a distance.

___

He was a survivor. One of the lucky ones of the 55 prisoners who had been held back by Pakistan, thanks to the intervention of Sajjad Khan, the cheif minister. And because of Malika, Sajjad's wife, who had pleaded with him to save him. She had sacrificed her heart to save him, her ego and self respect. She protected him, but he failed to do so...

He came to the graveyard to pay his respects to his comrades, his brothers, his family. He saluted each one of them, remembering their faces, their voices, their jokes. He wept for them, for their dreams, for their families.

He came to the last grave, number 27. He recognized him. He was his friend, his partner, his confidant. They had fought together, laughed together, suffered together. They had shared everything, even names.

Captain Sahil Singh

He had never told him about her, the girl who had captured his heart, the girl who had made given him hope when he was in prison for months, the girl who had appeared in his dreams. She was his ray of hope, his own source of light in the dark dungeons.

On the grave he saw a letter. He picked it up and read the name. It was from her. Seher. He held the letter in his hand, feeling its warmth.

He ran after her, hoping it was not too late. But she had disappeared.

The dream of her crying at his grave came to be true, he didn't know what to feel anymore except read the letter.

Beneath the dark sky, I see your dimples, brown eyes, and black hair, like honeyed promises that led me astray. Your crazed gaze drove me wild, I fell hard when you uttered those  words, only to be cast away by my own fate. The shore remained elusive, and my words, like prisoners, never escaped my mouth, lost in the turbulent tides of unspoken love.

I was the dawn, and you were the shore... we never met.