❝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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Tranquility hit me hardest at the time when unflappability ringed the bell in the depths of my heart. I was washing the clothes in bathroom, brimming a bucket full of water mixed with detergent. My hands were soaked in soap bubbles, messy hair strands releasing on half of my face. The dupatta was hanging in the chair, like always, without it's necessity. At the sound of the door bell, I was pretty sure about the delivery man's arrival.
Pouring some water on the hands, I didn't care wiping them with towel. The beneath cloth of my cotton kamiz,was wet fully making my attire a little heavy. I somehow covered the head and chest with the dupatta around my neck.
As soon as I opened the latch of door, unbeknownst faces appeared, with a stroke of anxiety and fear tuckin. I promptly closed the door and swinged the latch. My heart started palpitating ushering the eruptions of haphazard words which said the names of Allah anxiously and constantly.
Are they any goons? Do they know I live alone? What if they rob the house?
Thousands of fear and worries crowded around my mind. The alerting talks of my mother echoed in my heart,
" You are going to city,Husna. Be careful at every step. City people are not good and humble like villagers. They see their self before anything. Do not trust anyone. Trust in Allah "
I ran to the kitchen, grabbed a knife and I placed it behind my back with one hand. Regaining courage to again swelve the latch, I peeked from aside while I observed the unfamiliar persons nearly.
A woman in beautiful top reaching her knee and a tight pajama with it was standing holding the index finger of a little girl in floral sleeveless frock. The baby pink leather bag caught my heart. Behind them,a gentleman in navy blue lavish coat with grey undershirt was placing his hands on the little girl's head.
" Are you Husna Ara?" The woman dragged me from the train of thoughts .
"Yes...I- I am ...but" I murmured the words, the butterflies in my stomach started bubbling with nervousness.
" We are Bilal's family. I am his sister-in-law and he is Helal Akhter,his brother" her polite words echoed when I opened the door a few more inches.
I kept staring at them,lost in my thoughts.
" Can we come inside?" The little girl sweetly smiled like a flower. Her eyes made me remind of Bilal's brown emerald eyes in which I dreamt a thousands unfulfilled dreams.
" Huh? Oh yes...please " I let the door fully opened and stretched my kamizfew times,almost reddened of embarrassment.
" Bilal is in operation,again?" The lady elegantly placed her shoulder vanity vag on the hook of chair,then sat on the chair of dinning table. Bilal's brother went inside the vacant room beside the dinning room. It was clear that they were acquainted of the every corner of the house. Maybe they lived together before which was merely a guess.
