When the bud bloomed, an ill-fated hour cast its ominous shadow upon me. My innocent childhood was spent in the lap of deprivation. Small desires were slaughtered by the cruel stick of poverty. When youth arrived, misfortune came along. The days when I played with dolls, the shadow of my parents disappeared from above me. Out of pity, my uncle brought me home, and then, instead of playing with dolls, my small hands learned to wash dishes, sweep the floor, and wash clothes.
The Silent Suffering of Childhood
Those days were like the ones where a lone traveler faces scorching heat and the thorns of acacia. To this day, the memory of those sharp days stings in my veins. When I think of my parents, my heart bleeds. When I turned sixteen, my uncle and grandfather, seeing my orphaned state, began to turn their faces away, and my aunt started shuddering. The boys from the neighborhood, catching a glimpse of me, would say, “Is there a calamity or a curse behind the curtain at Mian Ji’s door?” This curse began to quietly torment my family.
When the neighbors came, they would give me a deep look and whisper to my aunt, “She’s a young girl, sister, hurry up and get her married. The times are bad, but what if we are good? Don’t judge yourself, worry about the world.” My aunt would ask my grandfather, “When do you plan to marry your granddaughter?” My grandfather would reply, “If a good proposal comes, we too would like to finish this duty soon.” My aunt would say, “Yes, when any proposal comes, don’t think too much. You are getting old, and your sons are careless, and they don’t worry about their niece’s marriage.”
Grandfather’s deep sighs turned into the last breath of old age, but no one came to marry me. When my uncle realized that my age was passing by, he too became worried. We lived in an area where it was customary to take money from the groom or his family in exchange for the marriage. So, whenever a proposal came, it was like a customer coming to buy my life. At that point, my uncle decided that since selling is part of the custom, why not marry me to someone wealthy so that I could join a prosperous family and help ease our poverty. Thus, he sold me to Haji Sahib, the head of a wealthy family from Kohat. In return, he filled my uncle’s lap with money. Thus, the transaction of my body and soul was completed.
This was not the custom in our place, and my uncle did not want such a marriage, but poverty became his compulsion because he had many children. I moved from my uncle’s poverty-stricken house to a prosperous one. A new city, a new home, and a new environment created a sense of alienation for many days. Then, over time, my mind adapted to the new circumstances, and the anxiety faded away. The good treatment and food in my in-laws’ house made my complexion glow.
I was an illiterate, unrefined girl, but my beauty had no equal here, and my manners were good. Respect for elders and decency were part of my character. I had virtue in my blood. No wrong hand ever touched me, nor did anyone cast a dirty glance at me. If anyone looked at me, I would shy away like a blooming flower. My innocent and spontaneous words won my husband’s heart. Haji Sahib’s wife began to consider me not just a daughter-in-law but a daughter. From childhood, I was accustomed to hard work, so without being told, I did all the household work. My neatness and diligence added grandeur to their house. They couldn’t find another daughter-in-law like me even with a lantern. I was a gem that had come into their house by fortune. After buying me, Haji Sahib quickly gathered a few relatives and had my marriage performed with his son, Mahboob Khan. My mother-in-law and father-in-law immediately took care of my education, trying to fill the gaps in my knowledge.
Now I was free from every sorrow and worry. I believed that having such a suitable husband changed into the peak of my existence. He too couldn’t devour without me. During this time, I became pregnant. I became overwhelmed with pleasure, but lamentably, this happiness proved to be quick-lived. The infant passed away after some days. I cried bitterly over losing my son. It felt as although darkness filled my brilliant domestic. A regular gloom settled in. Day and night, tears flowed, and then this flood of grief swept away my peace. Tears poured from my eyes, carrying away each corner of my little international.
One small incident changed my life forever. My husband suddenly thought of starting a new business and went to Lahore. The moment he left, my misfortune began. My portion was located in a corner of my in-laws’ house. Whenever guests came, they would stay in my father-in-law’s part of the house. One day, my mother-in-law had gone to her daughter’s house in another village, and my father-in-law, along with Mahboob Khan, went to meet some people for the new business. As soon as they left, a relative of my father-in-law, Shiraz Khan, came. He had visited several times before, and his wife was with him. I welcomed them and asked if they needed anything. They asked when Haji Sahib and his wife would return. I told them they would probably return by evening. Shiraz Khan then said, “I’m taking my wife to the hospital, and we’ll return by the time they come back.” Then they both left.
In the afternoon, Shiraz Khan got here returned alone. I asked him wherein his wife was, and he unluckily told me that she were admitted to the health facility for surgery. He requested me to % some necessities like a scarf, pillow, thermos, tea glasses, and a basket for him to take to the health facility. He stated, “Let your in-legal guidelines understand that my wife is admitted to the health facility.” I packed everything and instructed him I had made meals as well, and I offered to % it for him so he wouldn’t must discover food in the health center. He agreed and sat in my father-in-law’s room.
I went to deliver the food in the basket, but I didn’t know that his intentions had changed. As soon as I reached the room with the basket, he quickly locked the door from the inside. I pleaded with him, asking him to respect my father-in-law, but the devil succeeded in his evil plan and left after that. I felt as if I had been killed while still alive. Crying, I sat in the kitchen and smeared ash on my head. I cried until my mother-in-law returned.
Seeing me in this type of state, my mom-in-regulation changed into alarmed. I collapsed into her fingers, crying. Words dissolved into my tears, and after a while, I told her what had took place. She turned into taken aback with grief. A month later, she surpassed away. My grief had shattered her heart. One day, she commenced to stumble. I forgot my very own grief and helped her. I struggled to put her on a mat inside the kitchen, but her frame had grown cold and dead. Her soul had departed this international.
Thus, I lost the support of this good woman, and I was left to face the world alone. My mother-in-law never told my husband or son about what had happened to me, but I couldn’t remain silent. I told Mahboob Khan everything. His reaction was strange. He became repulsed by me and began to distance himself. Neither he nor I could bear the situation. One day, he left, saying he was going to Azerbaijan for business and never returned. Now, I was left alone with Haji Sahib in the house. He remained lost in the grief of his son’s absence, and the death of his wife had shattered his heart. His business no longer interested him, but running the business was his compulsion. Whenever he had to travel to another city, I would worry because now it was my responsibility to care for him. It was essential for him to stay at home, and serving him became my duty. He always insisted on eating home-cooked food because outside food made him sick.
One day, I gathered the courage to tell him, “Uncle, you should remarry.” He looked at me in surprise and said, “Who will give me a proposal at this age, daughter?” I replied, “But you can’t stay alone. You need a partner to look after you. I can provide food, but it’s a wife who stays with you during illness and trouble. You have no shortage of money. If you don’t find a proposal, you can buy a woman and marry her. After all, you bought me and made me your daughter-in-law. You can settle your own house in the same way. This way, my own loneliness will end, and I won’t feel anxious anymore.”
He seemed to understand my point but remained silent due to decency. Eventually, I found a poor but respectable family in my village. Their daughter was about 35 and still unmarried because they didn’t take money for marriage proposals. Through a servant, I arranged a marriage for Haji Sahib with the woman, who came into his life as his second wife. Haji Sahib was 65 but still healthy. Now, there were two women in the house, and I was no longer alone.
Though my father-in-law’s grief lightened, the burden of sorrow on my chest remains unchanged. I still wait for my beloved husband. In the eyes of the neighbors and villagers, I am a faithful wife and an honorable woman, greeted with respect. I don’t want to remarry because I wait for Mahboob Khan’s return, and I will wait for him until my last breath. I don’t know if Mahboob Khan is alive or not, but I still imagine him alive.
The poison that entered my body years ago has turned my soul and conscience blue. Only God knows whether that old devil received any punishment or not, but I have had to endure a long sentence without any fault of mine. Now, only death can grant me freedom from this punishment because I am a bought woman.
