Mananff - Iss Mohobbat Mein

chapter 49 (Last)

"Perhaps one did not want to be loved as much as to be understood."

- George Orwell

"Did you not get food yet?"

An Eight year old Soha turned to her Mother's voice. She was seeking food in the empty jars of their kitchen, avoiding the truth that the whole kitchen was empty as well. But as soon as she  looked behind, her big black eyes twinkled in joy seeing the bag of fritters in her mother's hands.

Her mother, that bony and frail looking woman with beautiful dusky skin, covered with badly sewed clothes smiled sweetly with a bruised face. Although an eye of hers was swollen, as she was recently punched by her husband, it still managed to carry the honeyed care for her daughter.

"Here, I have got food."

Soha ran desperately in excitement to her, her stomach growled in response and she pounced upon the fritters as if the limited food in her hands were a pile of gold, eating bites with utmost fondness.

While she ate, her mother observed. Her hairs were open, long and dark with natural waves that resembled a dark ocean. Big, blooming, black eyes that were starting to lose childishness. She was mostly filthy and her hair badly needed a combing. But, once it will all be done, she would look like one of the angels that come in their dreams. Pretty, bewitching dark fairies.

"Did he hit you again today?" She asked to her mother, crunching in utmost savory, while her mother smiled miserably facing their uneven ground.

"I am sorry." Her mother muttered, palm covering her eyes. "I could not give you a good life."

Soha didn't reply. Even at this vulnerable age, she understood the game of fate.

"Why does he hit you?" She wondered.

"Because his parents hit him." Her mother shrugged casually, as if it was a usual thinking. It was a tragedy how she was getting used to the emptiness in her heart. Pain didn't bother her anymore, she was beyond the suffering. But this beyond wasn't salvation.

"Why?"

Her mother didn't know the answer. No one did. Who knows from where the concept of violence was started, all that remains now is its continuation.

"One day, we will escape the darkness." Her mother promised.

It was a lie, certainly. Always will be. To escape this vast darkness was like fire escaping a lantern in a stormy day, only to get destroyed by the mighty wind outside. Even if they leave their home someday, they didn't have that kind of money to make a living on their own.

"I don't care. I'm used to it now." Soha muttered blankly.

"No!" She was taken aback by the sudden rise in her mother's voice. "You must never get used to your father. Or else one day, you will end up becoming him."

She did not understand her mother's words. How can she become a person that she had hated all her life? Does it mean she could hurt her mother as well? Why would she do that?