Chapter 34
Heavy Trigger Warning: Domestic Violence, physical and mental abuse.
I have been reading many domestic violence threads on reddit, and in most cases the victims didn't know they were victims of abuse. Because they were taught to adjust for their family. (I read them to get a better understanding of a victim's mind.)
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It was a sunny morning, the sky was clear, Sahil stood outside the gate, wearing a blue kurta, his hands in his pockets. He softly knocked on the door, and heard the sound of anklet ringing, as footsteps neared. He closed his eyes as the door opened, and he inhaled softly, realising it was her. Her presence, her smell, he could recognize it.
"Kya hua aaj tumhe sharam aarahi hai?"
(Why aren't you looking my way?)
He shook his head softly, "I haven't cleansed myself, how can I look at you with such impure eyes?"
Sahil murmured, his voice low and hesitant. He kept his eyes closed, feeling the warmth of her presence so close, yet not daring to meet her gaze.
She tilted her head, a soft smile playing on her lips as she watched him. "Tum aise kab se baat karne lage, Sahil? (When did you become so poetic?)" she teased, her voice light but affectionate.
Her laughter was soft, almost like the chime of her anklets, filling the air with a melody that made his heart race. She stepped out into the sunlight, her dupatta fluttering slightly with the breeze. Dressed in a soft blue suit, she was the very image of grace, and Sahil dared not open his eyes to see her, as if doing so would be an intrusion on something sacred.
He opened his eyes slowly, the vulnerability in them evident as he looked at her for the first time that morning. "Since I realized how much I love you," he said softly, "and how much I need to work on myself before I can ever deserve you."
Her smile faded slightly as she looked into his eyes, the sincerity in his words touching her in a way she hadn't expected. She stepped closer, the sound of her anklet barely audible now, and gently placed a hand on his arm.
"You don't need to be perfect to stand beside me, Sahil," she whispered. "You just need to be you."
He looked down at her hand, feeling the warmth of her touch, and sighed. "But what if I'm not enough?"
She smiled again, this time more softly, and shook her head. "You've always been enough."
Her hand softly cupped his cheek, and when he felt her fingers curling around his-
"You can't sleep here!"
Sahil jolted awake, blinking rapidly as the soft light of the morning gave way to the dim interior of the small bus station. The old man standing over him with a broom in hand, looking both amused and mildly annoyed, shook his head.
"You young people think this is a hotel?" the old man grumbled, though there was no real malice in his voice. "Go find somewhere proper to rest."
With a sigh, he stood up, gathering his small bag and heading out into the sunny morning.
As he stepped outside, he couldn't help but smile, the clear sky reminding him of the warmth he had just dreamt of. The world around him bustled with life, but for a moment, all he could think about was her. Seher. She was still miles away, yet somehow, always right here, in his mind, in his heart.
He shook his head, trying to clear the lingering fog of the dream. "One day," he whispered to himself, "I'll tell her how much she means to me. One day, when I am worthy of her."
___
"Islam has required of a woman to be obedient to her husband, when the husbands are at home, they are obedient to them and guard their secrets; and when they are away, they not only guard their secrets but take care of their property and guard their own chastity."
The maulvi read out the lines. As Seher listened, she felt an overwhelming sense of anger at Saad. Maulvi Iqbaal had been her preacher growing up, he was almost like a father figure in her eyes. He would softly reprimand her instead of scolding her, he would narrate her the stories of prophets.
Seher sighed, "Maulvi Sahab ye sab sirf biwiyon ke liye hai?"
(Are these rules only for women?)
"Sabke liye hai, Shauhar ya biwi, dono ko ek dusron ki baat maan ni chahiye (It's for both husband and wife. A husband and wife both should listen to each other)".
She looked at Razia then at the maulvi, "Biwyon ka maqam kya hai? (What is the role of a women?)"
"Islam mein biwi ka maqam bahut ooncha hai. Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) ne kaha hai ke sabse behtareen mard wahi hai jo apni biwi ke saath achha sulook kare. Aur biwi ko bhi apne shauhar ki izzat aur khushi ka khayal rakhna chahiye. Dono ke beech mein pyaar aur samajh zaroori hai."
(In Islam, the status of a wife is very high. Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) said that the best man is the one who treats his wife well. The wife should also respect and care for her husband's happiness. Love and understanding between both are essential.)
She sighed and stood up, "Mai galat kar rahi hu kya?"
(Am I doing wrong?)
She asked her voice filled with vulnerability, the Maulvi looked up and stood up himself, " Baap ke darje se batao ya Maulvi?"
(Should I answer you like a father or a religious figure?)
"Baap ke darjah se, zaroorat h mujhe. Mai maaf nhi karsakti apne shauhar ko... Mujhe nhi pasand woh, shaadi bhi zabardasti hui hai"
(A father figure, I need it. I can't forgive him, I don't like him... I was forced to marry him)
The maulvi sighed, "You were forced... Do you approve of this marriage?"
"I do not."
"In the event that a woman who has been forced does not accept a marriage, then it is invalid and she has to tell the one who did this marriage contract with her about that- in your case Saad Sahib. (Saad does not have the right to force you to engage in intercourse and intimacy , and you don't have the right to allow him to do that so long as you do not accept the marriage)."
___
The maulvi left, and Saad came upstairs. Love bombing didn't work on her, so he thought why not guilt her using her faith.
But when he came on the terrace, he saw her smiling calmly as if there was no remorse on her face, "Kya bola maulvi sahib ne? (What did he say?)"
She smiled, "Meri mushkil aasan kardi (He brought my mind to ease)."
"Good. Shukar hai tum mai aqal aa gayi wapas. Chalo mere saath. (It's good that you grew some brains. Let's go)"
She shrugged off his hands, "It seems you didn't understand what I said. I have made a choice, and you are not it".
His eyes bulged, then he saw her fingers having yellow stains of haldi, "Who fed you?"
"Him."
He pulled at her hand, and pulled her towards the tap, ferociously washing her hands, "He never touched me."
"But he touched the food."
She tried to break from his grip, "Stop it!"
He held her face, his eyes burning into her, "Why can't you act like a normal woman? Stop being a shrew"
She glared at him, "So you can abuse me? Which normal woman have you treated right? Your sister, now your wife Ayesha, you don't care about her nor do you care about the child. I prefer being a shrew rather than a docile woman you can easily manipulate worse kill."
He blinked, holding in a laugh, "Seher, I am glad you are not a man, Jahangir Shaikh's heir with such sharp mind, you would have been such a brutal competition. I would have loved to break your neck, but now that you are my wife, and since I love you so much I can't bring myself to kill you. Can't you see... how much I love you?"
His face was strange mix of love and menance, as if he was holding onto a thread, "You love seducing men don't you?"
His hands were awfully close to her neck, as if he was about to snap it, his lips landed on her cheek, and Seher felt disgusted from inside as he said the next few words, "Why don't you try seducing me?"
She almost gagged, because of the look he gave her. wasn't she supposed to feel safe in his arms? Why was it so hard to breathe?
This man wasn't her husband, she couldn't give him the authority to be close to her.
"Leave me!" She shouted but it fell onto deaf ears as he continued with his insanity.
"He cooked for you, and you ate the food," he said in a calm tone, "Should I break your fingers?"
She shook her head, terrified now, and screamed for help, but he covered her mouth. She started kicking him, but he overpowered her by his weight. Things were back to it again.
Back to the cycle of being the abused coward. She held in the tears as he twisted her fingers, as she fell on the terrace floor. Her eyes wide, still struggling, biting his fingers that tried to cover her lips, but he backhanded her.
Her hair scattered covering her face as he used his force on her, "BeHaya aurat (Characterless woman)," he sneered at her struggles, his hands brutal as they bent her fingers, and his lips soft as he kissed her cheeks, it seemed her tears were making him happy, her misery.
Seher's body went limp as the pain overtook her senses, her fingers throbbing under the pressure of Saad's grip. She could feel the weight of his body pressing down on her, suffocating any sense of hope she had left. Her heart raced, and her mind screamed for an escape, but her voice remained trapped behind his hand.
"You're mine, Seher," he whispered menacingly, his breath hot against her skin. "No one else can have you. Your lover boy will die today. The moment he steps on the street, he will die."
She cried as he pressed her face on the concrete and then, there was a snap, her wrist cracked under the weight of his force. Seher gasped in agony, howling with the sharp pain shooting up her arm. Saad released her momentarily, only to grab her by the hair and yank her face upward.
"You think you can defy me?" he hissed, his eyes wild with fury. "You're nothing without me. No one will ever love you the way I do. And that boy-he's as good as dead."
This was the reason she didn't want to bring Sahil back to this area.
"Don't kill him... please," her eyes shed tears as she pleaded with him. Pleaded with the monster. But Saad was elated, because this was the first time his wife clinged to him and cried. He felt his heart melt as she begged him for her lover's life. He had the power.
He softly wiped away the streaming tears, as she flinched, but he didn't care, holding her chin, his eyes showed mercy. But her fractured wrist told a different tale as she cradled her hand crying, her lips bleeding from the assault.
"I can't say no to my wife's request. Can I now?" He talked as if he was cooing at a child, tucking a strand at the back of her ear.
"He won't die. If he wants to live, ask him not to fight back and leave this city. You will watch him from the terrace as he gets punished."
This man was sadistic. She knew that. He enjoyed other's misery and pain. He wanted to inflict further shame and contempt onto his wife.
"Punished for what?" Seher's voice was barely above a whisper, her throat raw from the struggle. The tears in her eyes blurred her vision, but she could still see the twisted satisfaction in Saad's gaze.
"For daring to look at you." His voice was cold and sharp, each word slicing through the air like a knife. "No one else deserves that. Only I do."
She glanced at her wrist, swollen and bruised, and felt the sting of the tears on her cheeks.
"Don't kill him.. please. He will never see me again, I promise."
"He dared to enter my house. How could I let it go? If Ayesha hadn't told me, I would have never known."
She was broken, but how could she cause harm to Sahil? She didn't want him to leave. Maybe that was selfish of her, she couldn't let go of him.
How could she ask him to leave? But how could she let him stay and face the wrath of a monster like Saad?
She couldn't even wave him goodbye because her wrist was swollen. He would know she was hurt...
Her chest heaved with pain as she lay on the cold terrace floor, Saad's shadow looming over her. Her fingers were throbbing, her wrist ached, and her soul felt crushed under the weight of the torment he inflicted. She wanted to scream, to fight back, but every time she tried, he found a way to snuff out her resistance.
Saad's lips twisted into a mocking smile as he watched her struggle. He enjoyed her misery-thrived on it. His satisfaction made her feel sick, but she knew one thing-she had to protect Sahil, no matter the cost.
"You'll watch him, Seher. You'll see what happens to those who dare to come near you. And you'll remember it every time you think of him." His voice was sharp, each word punctuated with cruelty.
She couldn't let Sahil face his wrath. He had done nothing but care for her, love her in a way Saad could never understand. But her fear wasn't just for Sahil's safety-it was for the realization that she might never be free. That Saad's shadow would always linger over her, choking the life out of her, no matter how much she fought.
Through the haze of pain, she whispered, "I'll do anything. Just... please, leave him alone."
Saad crouched down beside her, grabbing her chin roughly as he forced her to meet his gaze. "Anything?" he echoed, his voice low and menacing.
Seher flinched, feeling his grip tighten. His eyes glinted with satisfaction, feeding off her desperation. "Anything," she repeated, her voice trembling with both fear and resolve.
He leaned in closer, his breath hot against her skin as he murmured, "Then you'll be my perfect little wife, won't you, Seher? You'll obey me, love me, and forget about that boy. If you don't, he dies."
Seher swallowed hard, her tears mixing with the dirt on her cheeks. She nodded, feeling the weight of her decision crush whatever was left of her spirit.
Saad smiled, but there was no warmth in it. Only malice. He released her chin and stood up, brushing off his clothes as if their exchange had been nothing more than an inconvenience to him.
"You'll see him one last time," he said casually, turning his back to her. "And after that, he's gone. Out of this city, out of your life. You'll watch him get beaten, and you'll know that you caused it."
Seher's breath hitched. Her body ached, and her heart was broken, but she forced herself to get up. She couldn't let Sahil get hurt because of her. But she had no choice but to play along, to give Saad what he wanted, for now.
As she stood there, her vision blurred with tears, she could only hope that Sahil would leave before it was too late. She could never forgive herself if he stayed and faced Saad's wrath.
Saad turned back, a cruel smile playing on his lips. "Now go wash up," he ordered. "You look pathetic."
With that, he walked away, leaving Seher standing alone on the terrace, her broken wrist cradled to her chest, her mind racing with desperation.
She whispered into the wind, "Please, Sahil, don't come back for me. Don't let him find you. Please."
But deep down, she knew Sahil would never leave. He loved her too much. And that love... it might just destroy him.
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Note: Seher isn't an ideal woman. She often makes wrong decisions, returning back to the village in the first chapter she should have never returned but she did because in some way she felt responsible for the women of the village, same thing here. She feels responsible for her father's actions, and is repenting on his behalf- protecting Maheen and Naeemah.
She is a cheater, I never said she wasn't a cheater. She is a flawed character.
Sahil is supposed to be a fairytale escapade character, he was born to heal her, Sahil is supposed to be her strength. His character doesn't exist in the first draft, he is unplanned. Similar events would occur with or without him.
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