Leilah Usman awaits an acceptance from a university abroad so she can leave the country she never loved when she stumbles upon an ancient diary. Through the eyes of Mahrosh Irfan, she finds herself in a world so completely different from hers.
One w...
But maybe I am a terrible wife. Maybe I am - maybe I am, but still, I will not stop him. I will be terrible then, but I will not stop him.
And I will never trust Aleena again with my heart. I will never trust her again. Never.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The breakfast table was buzzing. The dishes had seen an increase in numbers and quality since the day Walid and Aleena had joined; and they were passed around with much fervor and zeal - Ammi filling Walid's plate for the third time, and Dadi urging everyone to try the halwa she had made. If we cannot fix things we can at least try to make them better by being hospitable; a silent agreement was passed and accepted by everyone. Conversation flowed at the table; and the house was more alive than it had been for weeks.
But the smiles and the laughter did not reach the two girls who sat apart; refusing to look at each other.
"- I hope you slept comfortably, Walid," Ammi was saying, "I doubt Aleena and Mahrosh slept at all though - they're awake till fajr everytime during their sleepovers."
Her words fell heavy upon their hearts. Ammi was expecting some reaction but she got none; Mahrosh' gaze fixed on her plate and Aleena's on the pattern of the tablemat. Somewhere, in the heart that Mahrosh wore on her sleeve, and a mask she was unable to carry to hide the tsunami of emotions within her - the coldness between her and Aleena had not gone unnoticed. Ammi frowned, "The two of you are still not talking to each other?"
Dadi looked between them, "What did you even fight over?"
When neither of them answered, Ammi sighed, picking up the plates, "I wouldn't be surprised if Mahrosh is at fault. Apologize already and get it over with, Mahrosh. Aleena is our guest."
Mahrosh' fists clenched, her nails digging into her skin. Of course. To Ammi, she was always at fault; but even Dadi did not come to her defense. The conversation changed routes till Aleena was pulled into it and a discussion over lace patterns led the women to the living room.
Mahrosh seldom did dishes unless she was asked to. But the animated voices from the room next door made her prefer the kitchen to the living room a hundred times over. She knew that even if she were to walk out; Ammi would not let her retreat to her room.
The dishes clanged when she dropped them in the sink; loud - but not louder than the storm within her. Her face was flushed; emotions toppling over the walls she had made, till a few angry tears escaped her eyes - tears that only added to her anger and she harshly rubbed at her face. No, she squeezed her eyes shut, her fists balling, trying to stop the memories from surfacing. I am not going to cry -
For a brief moment, she was in her six year old body again; thrashing and wishing to escape.
"Why him? Why couldn't she have been taken instead -" her father's eyes were red. He was dressed in white. So was her mother; her face tear-stained and her eyes lifeless. White; Dadi wore white too - like the color of the cloth wrapped around a small body that lay on the charpai outside -
