🍂Husn-e-Ishq🍂

Sadqa |5|

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Jalandhar

Winds had blown from the West so had her hope but at least spared a portion of it so that her breaths didn’t feel its existence redundant. Her hands would sometime wipe tears away from her cheeks and the other time they just caressed her abdomen that had protruded magically faster.

Each time she looked down at it which reminded her of her husband as how often, during the time they were together, wished of a daughter.

"We'll name her Rumaysa, if ever Allah wills to grant us a daughter." His words kept echoing into her mind.

She crawled silently on her messy bed until she reached the edges. A plate made of stainless steel contained the food that was meant for her lunch but given the farewell of the evening it become tasteless enough to be consumed smoothly.

"Let me go," her feeble throat vibrated.

The door flung open as her mother entered into the room to check on her daughter's health.

"Ramsha, what have you made of yourself my child," she spoke in a cracked voice.

"You don't have to punish yourself like this. If you become weak then who'll fight for your rights?"

Ramsha dragged her body forward and let her feet reach down on the floor. She stood up managing the length of her dupatta to get fixed on her torso properly.

"Ammi, my prison is an account of celebration for you all?" She questioned her mother sternly.

"Not at all. And why you think you're in the prison? It's also your home beta. I know for actual you're supposed to stay with your husband but this is your first home too... your own parents' ho..."

Ramsha cut her mother saying, "yes, where I'm forced to kill all my expectations and happiness."

"Y-yes," the old woman added to her statement.

The young woman looked away wrapping one of the cloths spread over her bed. She sat on the bed showing dissatisfaction with her gesture and told her mother, "No one will stop me from what I'll do now. And I'll, for definitely it's a prison, a treacherous prison, set myself free."

"What will you do?" Questioned the mother with hesitation and adding, "don't do anything which makes Shamim wage war against you."

"Ammi," Ramsha chuckled, "it is going to be a treaty of peace, not war," she wiped her moist face with her jaws clenched this time.

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Satluj river bank, Jalandhar

"Bhaisaheb, you know very well we are not taking our vehicles out for driving due to these chaos. What has made you risk you life in this terrible time?" asked an anxious cart-puller exchanging glances with a taxi-driver who was standing at the bank of river Satluj, trying to make an adamant wrestler understand that they cannot travel in the city.

"Although you've managed to reach Jalandhar through this riverway but trust me inside the city, moving is not safe. Fatality of strikes have been intensified. It will soon become a civil war, you never know." The taxi-driver put his hands on Shauqat's shoulders and tried to make him changes his decision to go to Ramsha's house.