The true measure of progress is the status of women in society - Savitribai Phule

___

Seher followed Saad to his room, her expression unreadable as he held her hand. He made her sit on the bed and gently tried to comfort her.

"Seher... I will love you more than him. You see, God sent him to make me realize how much I loved you."

Love? Right, because nothing says 'love' like breaking my bones.

She stared at him, suppressing the urge to roll her eyes.

For a moment, an urge to burn him alive flared in her chest. But she caught herself. Not yet. Not until she had everything she needed.

She glared at him, holding up her broken finger, wrapped in a plaster. "So this is your love?"

"You make me weak, Seher. I’ve never felt this amount of rage for anyone except you. I thought I hated you, but I guess it was love all along. You'll realize that too. You actually love me. There’s a thin line between love and hate, and this—" he gestured to her broken hand, "is our way of expressing love."

How convenient for you that my suffering gets packaged as 'love.'

His grey eyes were almost moist, believing every twisted word he uttered. There was a strange sadness in them, the kind that might have made her feel pity once. But not anymore.

"I will never love a man as cruel as you," she said with all the conviction she could muster. But then she paused, watching the way his face tightened with pain at her words.

Oh look, I hurt his feelings. Boo-hoo.

But she knew she had to tread carefully now. He was most dangerous when wounded.

"You’re upset," he murmured, getting out of bed. He removed his belt, and Seher instinctively trembled, fear momentarily clouding her resolve.

But instead of attacking her, he placed the belt gently in her non-fractured hand. "Take this and beat me. Just don’t leave me. I love you so much. You made me realize how powerful I am, you made me get over my childhood traumas…"

Ah, the classic ‘I broke you so you can fix me’ routine. Newsflash: I’m not your therapist, and I’m certainly not interested in being your saviour.

She stared at the belt, her mind racing.

If only you knew how much power I actually had now. You think this is control? Watch me flip the script.

She softened her posture, letting her body relax just enough to make him think she was considering his offer. The belt slipped from her grasp and fell to the floor. Her gaze flickered up, and she saw the hope glimmer in his eyes.

“I… I don’t know what to think anymore,” she whispered, her voice low, deliberately trembling with confusion. Let’s see how fast you crumble, Saad. You're nothing without my submission.

"You don’t have to decide now, Seher," he said, kneeling in front of her, taking her hand with uncharacteristic gentleness. "We’ve hurt each other, yes. But maybe that’s because we’re meant to be. We’re alike—you and I. The fire between us is what makes us special."

Alike? Please. The only thing we have in common is that we’re both stuck in this room, and I’m counting the seconds until I leave.

She stared at him, pretending to consider his words. She let her expression waver, giving him a sliver of hope. "You really think… we can fix this?" she asked, her voice small.

Saad nodded eagerly, his desperation almost pathetic. "Yes! Yes, Seher. We can fix everything. I know I’ve been cruel, but I can change. For you."

Change? The only change you’ll experience is the taste of your own defeat.

She tilted her head slightly, her eyes still distant. "Maybe… maybe you’re right. Maybe I was too harsh."

He leaned in closer, his breath shaky. "You see? I knew it. I knew we could make this work."

Work? You’re the only one working here, Saad. I’m just pulling the strings.

Inside, Seher's heart burned with fury, but outwardly, she managed a hesitant smile. She let him touch her hand, let him think that he had broken through to her. She could see how desperately he needed to believe that.

"I need time," she whispered, pulling her hand away just enough to make him feel like she wasn’t fully giving in yet. "We’ve been through so much, Saad… it’s hard for me to trust you again. But maybe... maybe we could start over?"

His face lit up, as if she had just handed him the world. "We can. I’ll prove it to you, Seher. I’ll do anything to show you that I love you. Just give me a chance."

Anything? Go kill yourself.

She nodded slowly, letting him bask in the belief that he had won her over. "Alright," she said softly, "I’ll give us a chance. But you need to be patient with me. Let me heal."

He clutched her hands tightly, his relief palpable. "I will. I promise you, I’ll be everything you need. I’ll fix this."

Seher smiled faintly, though her eyes remained cold.

Fix what? Your delusions? No thanks, I’d rather watch them unravel.

---

"Razia, please help me get ready for the party," Seher asked when she woke up, it was the before election campaign party, this was where all the powerful men met before the election.

People thought it was the votes that mattered. It was the impression that mattered the most. These businessmen, politicians could change the results if you earned their favour.

Jahangir Shaikh's idea was refreshing for these men, he was promoting small businesses with low labour cost through the woman in village plus empowering them in this way.

While Saad was an influential man yet his ideology didn't match with his people. He was out of touch, born into wealth, he didn't know how to relate to his people. Thus this party was incredibly important for him.

Saad was nervous, she could tell, his face didn't give it away, but the constant tapping of his foot, his unfocused eyes and the way he took a drag from his cigar made her realise he was

Good, she thought. It was time for him to feel the pressure.

This party wasn't just important for Saad—it was the moment Seher had been waiting for. The moment she would start to dismantle him, piece by piece.

“You look beautiful,” Razia said, stepping back to admire her work.

Seher glanced at her reflection, her eyes sharp, calculating. Razia had hidden her injuries behind makeup. Her deep crimson saree hugged her form elegantly, but it wasn’t the beauty that mattered—it was the power she exuded. Tonight, she would captivate everyone in the room, making sure Saad’s world revolved around her. It was time for him to see how it felt to be powerless.

“Thank you, Razia,” Seher replied, her voice smooth and calm.

As they left for the party, Seher felt the weight of her plan pressing on her mind, but she remained composed. The mansion where the party was held was lit with grandeur, filled with the influential men who truly controlled the election outcome.

Saad led her inside, gripping her hand tightly as though she were his anchor. He didn’t notice the small smile that played on her lips.

“Remember what I said, Seher,” Saad whispered, leaning close as they entered the grand ballroom. “We need to look united. They need to believe that you are with me.”

Oh, they’ll believe I’m with you, alright. Just not in the way you think.

She glanced up at him, feigning innocence. “Of course, Saad. I’ll do everything to help you.”

And destroy you once and for all.

Jahangir Shaikh sat on a sofa with all the elites, discussing his agenda. Saad held her hand approaching them, "I believe women make us powerful," his eyes met Seher's as he gestured to her, "I raised a strong headed daughter, imagine what would happen if I got national help to aid the women of village."

If he got the power, women would start disappearing from the village at a larger scale.

She couldn't decide who was worse, her father or her husband. Both were demons.

Saad pulled at her hand, "Let's dance."

As the soft hum of music filled the ballroom, Saad leaned in closer to Seher, his voice barely above a whisper, “Go talk to Mrs. Kadam. She’s the governor’s wife, and her word is as good as his. Convince her that we’re the right choice.”

Seher glanced across the room at Mrs. Kadam, a woman draped in silk and pearls, her sharp eyes observing everyone with quiet judgment. Gauri Kadam was a renowned activist who had fought tirelessly for women’s education and rights since the early 1960s, earning her place as a formidable figure among the elites. Seher knew that gaining her favor could sway the election in Saad’s direction.

“Introduce her to me,” Saad added, his grip tightening on Seher's arm as she hid her fingers inside her saree drape. "Tell her how we’re going to revolutionize this country. She is a writer who thinks like you. Tell her how we will support her campaign to include untouchability under civil law and give equal power to women."

Seher’s lips curled into a controlled smile. Both were using the same strategy. The irony of his words was not lost on her. Power to the women? He didn’t even know what that truly meant. But she did. And she was about to show him.

"Mrs. Kadam, nice to meet you," the woman held out her hand, "Call me Gauri. It’s nice seeing you too, Seher Khan"

Before either of them could exchange a few words, they heard the mic screeching, then, there was her father on stage.

"Good evening, my name is Jahangir Shaikh. I have served in the army for two decades, then later dedicated my life to the village. As the General, I witnessed women's progress and realized how much we need their support to improve our condition. Thus, I introduced a way to make them independent—use their skills to earn their own money."

The crowd erupted in a mixture of applause and murmurs. Seher could feel the tension in the room rising, her father’s speech cutting through the polite indifference of the elites. Mrs. Kadam—no, Gauri—was now fully focused on the stage, her sharp eyes momentarily softening.

"But progress isn’t just about empowering women in theory," Jahangir added, glancing toward Seher in the crowd, his eyes holding a deeper meaning. "It’s about action, opportunity, and most importantly, respect. I want to leave a legacy where the next generation doesn’t just talk about female empowerment but lives it, breathes it, and builds with it."

Gauri glanced at Seher in awe, "I can’t believe that’s Jahangir Shaikh."

The crowd whispered for a while until they sat down to have dinner. Seher couldn't eat her food because of her broken finger, so she simply sipped her drink with her left hand.

Saad realized that, so he tried to feed her. Seher looked at him, then at the people around, realizing this was a show.

She opened her mouth, taking a small bite, smiling, knowing he was trying to establish a good image—a family man.

"You are a lucky woman, aren't you?" Gauri asked her. Seher couldn't help but ask, "Why?"

"Your husband loves you."

Seher giggled. "Oh, he is such a loving husband." She spoke loudly, taking a tissue to wipe away the makeup that hid her bruises.

She adjusted her drape to make her broken finger visible, leaning toward Mrs. Kadam. "See how lucky I am?"

"What are you doing?" Saad hissed.

Seher pouted. "Why are you upset? I am just showing them how much you love me."

"I will kill you!" he warned her, his eyes seething.

"Awe, you're so romantic. It makes my heart flutter. Say that again, pleaseee."

He pushed her, causing her to stumble, and quickly realized he was in public. "I am so sorry—"

"Mr. Khan, so this is how you empower women?" Gauri interjected, her voice steady and challenging.

Saad went quiet, then glared murderously at Seher, sighing. He stood up, announcing at the table, "I was upset, but there was a reason. You see, I realized my wife, who I love dearly, was cheating on me since the very beginning. How can I, a man, let that go? Still, I forgave her and let her live."

There was silence until Gauri stood up, her expression resolute. "What do you mean by 'let her live'?"

Seher answered for Saad, "Oh, you don't know about the law of the village, the law made by my beloved father?"

"I do know the villages have some extremist values, but... I have no idea about any law."

"Well, you see, there is a law—"

Jahangir Shaikh cut her off. "Which I am trying to abolish." Seher looked at her father as he glared at her. Behind his strong front, she could see he was terrified. "Father, may I speak?"

She asked him softly, and he warned her with his expression but couldn’t interrupt her anymore to keep up appearances.

"So, as I was saying, there is a law in our village where an individual gets whipped to death if they are perceived as sinners in our General's eyes."

Gauri eyed the tense environment along with her husband, who encouraged her to speak. "And how does one become a sinner?"

"It's quite easy. If you dare to love, then you are a sinner. Depending on the severity of your crimes, either one or both partners would be stoned or whipped to death."

Seher’s voice cut through the room, cold and deliberate, as she continued.

“If a woman dares to think for herself, act on her own desires, or, heaven forbid, falls in love with someone not approved by the village council, she is branded a sinner.” Seher looked at her father, watching his face remain stoic, though she knew she was shaking the very ground beneath him.

“The punishments vary, but they are always brutal,” she said. “My cousin sister fell victim to this law. She was accused of infidelity. My father, the General, sentenced her to a public stoning.”

Saad joined her, "I don't—"

A murmur of shock rippled through the crowd. Gauri, her face now a mask of horrified disbelief, turned to Jahangir. “Is this true, General Shaikh?”

Jahangir clenched his fists, the calm facade cracking ever so slightly. “Those were different times, Gauri. The law is archaic, yes, but I have been working to reform it—”

“But it’s still in place,” Seher interrupted, her tone sharp. “And it will stay in place as long as men like my father and my husband hold the power.”

The ballroom had gone deadly quiet now. Every eye was on them.

“My husband, Saad, would have me punished under this law,” Seher said, locking eyes with Gauri. “Created by a man who is a sinner himself.”

Jahangir Shaikh shook his head, trying to intimidate her. "If you went there..."

"What? You had a lover for years, without marriage. Why don't you follow the rule yourself?"

Jahangir's face flushed with anger and panic. He stood abruptly. “She’s lying. She’s always been ungrateful, spiteful—”

“Ungrateful?” Seher laughed, a dark, bitter sound. “What should I be grateful for? The privilege of my father trying to build a campaign on my ideas?”

Jahangir stepped forward, trying to regain control. “Seher, enough. You are tarnishing our family’s reputation.”

Seher looked directly at her father, her gaze unwavering. “You worry about your reputation, Father, but not about the women who suffer because of you. Tonight, the truth is out. And I won’t be silent anymore.”

She turned to Gauri, who was now staring at Jahangir with clear disgust. “Mrs. Kadam. Don’t let these men fool you into thinking they stand for progress. They only stand for themselves.”

Jahangir Shaikh’s face darkened, his grip tightening on the edge of the table. This wasn’t part of the plan—his plan to gain favor by painting himself as a progressive leader. Seher had just ripped the mask off, revealing the truth beneath the polished facade.

Saad, trying to regain control, stood up and forced a smile. “What my wife means to say is that those outdated practices are no longer in place. Under my leadership and with the support of the people, we will ensure that all such laws are completely abolished. My focus is on progress and empowering women.”

Seher smiled sweetly, knowing she had already caused irreparable damage. “Yes, of course, darling. I agree with everything you just said.”

Gauri stood up, her gaze bouncing between Seher and Saad. “This is deeply troubling. I came here tonight expecting to hear about empowerment and progress, but it seems like we’re still stuck in the past.” She looked to her husband, who nodded in agreement. “If this is the kind of leadership that awaits, I’m not sure it’s something I can support.”

Gauri looked between Seher and Saad, her eyes narrowing. "You speak of revolution and female empowerment, but it seems to me that you still have a long way to go, Mr. Khan. And I don’t think I can support a man who doesn’t even respect the women in his own life."

The room grew cold, and Seher knew, in that moment, that she had struck a fatal blow to Saad’s campaign.

Saad’s face turned red with anger, but he kept his voice steady, measured. "This is a personal matter between my wife and me. I suggest we keep it that way."

But Gauri wasn’t having it. "When your personal matters involve the lives of women who you claim to want to empower, it becomes a public issue."

Jahangir stood up, his voice booming over the chatter. "This is a distraction from the real issue at hand. My vision for this country is one of progress and empowerment. We cannot let individual grievances cloud that."

Seher smiled, a cold, triumphant smile. "This is not a distraction, father. This is the reality. And it’s time the world saw it."

“Let’s go outside,” Saad said to her, his voice low and dangerous.

“Why, so you can threaten me in private? I’d rather keep this conversation public,” she replied, her voice steady.

“Seher, I—”

“Can’t handle the truth?” she interrupted, her heart racing as she pushed his buttons.

He glared at her, then turned to the crowd, attempting to regain control. “I’m sorry for the theatrics, everyone. It seems my wife is feeling a bit overwhelmed,” he said, forcing a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “But let’s not forget the real reason we’re here tonight.”

The guests murmured among themselves, some nodding in agreement while others looked on in confusion. Seher could feel the tide turning in her favor, and she relished the moment.

“And that’s to support our campaign,” she added smoothly, stealing the spotlight back. “Let’s not lose sight of what’s truly important here. We need to empower not just women, but everyone. That’s what true leadership is about.”

As she spoke, she caught Gauri’s approving nod from across the room. Saad’s expression shifted from furious to calculating, and she knew she had rattled him.

“Exactly!” Gauri chimed in. “Empowerment is about unity, not division. Strong, educated men empower women while weak ones beat their insecurities out of their women."

Saad’s lips pressed into a thin line, but he couldn’t counter Gauri’s comment without digging himself deeper. Seher felt a rush of victory.

She knew what would be the consequence to all of this, yet she wasn't scared.

These powerful men weren't powerful anymore. And that's what truly mattered.

___