❝𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐈 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲 & 𝐣𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲❞
Story of a 20 years aged woman called Husna Ara, a youthful dreamer living in poverty; who wa...
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I remember the caressing hand of my mother on my hair over the ruthless fate of mine. All the people who had their appearances in front of me were sympathizing. Simply sympathizing. The day was somehow gloomy, amidst the weatherly dark clouds drifting over the sky.
I knew it would rain.
Because whenever someone one this earth was lost of tears to fill the broadness of their pain,Allah would make the sky weep,make the thunderbolts mourn the pain,let the leaves sound like hiccups.
To let them share my pain.
I was unable to hold the words pieces of my heart which were entirely broken.
A little too fragile,my heart was.
The color red was something that would I not like the rest of my life from that day. Because it was permanent on my cheeks, reminded me of the pains. They were uglyingly aching, the fibres of my cheeks were nearly dead as they had a tight slap.
A slap,a slap in real. A slap to show me my worth,to confess my guilt.
I still wonder,inspite of being a woman,the potential of Farah bhabi in her hands was awful. She hit me harder than rock, powerful and quick. I got smashed with the pillar of door, the sides of my cheek cells were sliced into a thin line. The blood dripping from there unstoppably. I holded the place with my palm, bloody all over.
“You bitch! I knew you were nothing less than a greedy to gallop all of mother-in-law's property, aren't you? So put this ugly stunt of killing her?”
Farah bhabi was screaming as the environment around me were starting to become vague.
“What the hell is happening here!” some nurses came and stood like steel near us. The raging eyes of Farah bhabi digging into my red ones.
“ I will send you to the police! You tried to kill our mother! Stop this drama of treating her. ”
A man behind her spoke whom I recognized as Helal bhai.
Killing attempt?
Oh wow...
“How dare you raise your hand on our daughter?” my mother said breaking down between her words. Her hands were on my arms,the sleeve of her peachy cloth had been smudged with blood already.
“ You people are BEASTS!” someone said as a whisper,I couldn't decipher who it was.
“ Bring the medics soon! ” the order of a concerned doctor moved the nurse beside us rush. Her face was horrified, perplexed before she looked me in the eye before crossing the hallway.
I felt so embarrassed... tarnished...broken.
Everyone could speak up for me except myself. As if I had no own existence of mine.
I wished I could reject my heart of the politeness that it possessed once in life— and I could say,say all the wrong things,wrong words,bad names to the people who used to do the same with me with no hesitation. But I couldn't—
I just couldn't slap Farah bhabi back,punch her fairy face with my rough knuckles.
I just couldn't shout at Helal bhai, spit on his face, screwed his dirty mind.
I just couldn't do the things that people did to me.
But it was not the point.
It was not “the” disappointment.
But the disappoinment was,I thought myself weak,weaker and weakest. I defined myself blameworthy,again. For everything. I slapped my wounded cheeks with my own hands for everything that life kept showing me.
As if, I did something injustice to life and life paying me back.
And now I was compelled to endure.
Before the shadows of unconsciousness cloaked me into darkness,I saw the pain in my heart lessening. Suddenly so light,not burdening anymore. I was pleased to forget about the world for a moment,to be dead. I was enjoying being dead,it was peaceful and warm.
The thought of again waking up scared me, though I knew I had to.
But if the one that I wanted before of my eyes didn't appear when I wake up? The thought scared me even more.
But I was used to scaring, wasn't I?
But Husna was—
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Assalamualaikum. Well, I know how much annoying author I am.*coughs* Bear with me as I hardly get time for wattpad now a days.
If you want to slap Farah bhabi, You're most welcome ;)
Slap here——»
If not satisfied with the first one Slap here——»
We can only slap her in a book,not in real. So let's satisfy ourselves!
Many new readers are reading whom I want to give a WHOLE NEW BIG BIG ”THANK YOU”.❤️ Thanks a load for supporting this book *wipes nose with my pinky handkerchief* Last but not the least,many people are asking about the ending which I haven't planned out clearly yet.
