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TWO WEEKS LATER
Seerat
The country was in a political turmoil, as the fully heated campaigns for the elections commenced.
Samreen Gillani, despite being on her own, was fighting with all she had, a lone soldier in a battle that she had chosen for herself.
"...politics should be about serving the people, yet modern politics seem to be about politicians serving their own pockets and bank accounts." I lectured my students. "And I know that because I, unfortunately, have witnessed it first-hand."
My gaze went to the exit doors at the top of the staircase, behind where the students sat. Dawood Alvi, the head of the Government & Politics department stood there, his arms crossed across his chest as he listened to my lecture.
I adjusted my dupatta over my head, and continued to lecture the students, trying to seem unfazed. Ever since I'd officially filed for Khula, I felt relaxed. I wanted to free myself from a marriage that had basically been forced upon me. By the end of this month, the court had called me and Javaid to sign the papers, which would then be stamped by the judge to confirm the divorce under Sharia Law. I would then begin my one menstrual cycle iddah period, after which I would be free from Javaid.
It didn't help though that my boss was a very attractive man- the kind of person who I would have chosen to marry had I gotten the choice. He was highly intelligent, a champion in debating and a truly compassionate person.
I cannot wait for my Iddah period to begin, and then end. A thought sneaked into my mind.
Oh, shut up, Seerat. You are not a teenager. You are the mother of a pre-teen, in fact.
But as my gaze met that dark-eyed gaze, I almost froze. The salt-and-pepper hair was neatly brushed, apart from a lock flopped casually over his forehead. I was mesmerised.
Seerat, you are still technically married. I reminded myself.
And yet, I was finally starting to feel that even I could live my life the way I wanted to, and not the way Mama wanted me to live it.
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Sabeen
"Congratulations, Sabeen!" My friends excitedly wished me at the launch of my new business, in partnership with Shadab Rafeeque.
My hair had grown out, so now it grazed my shoulders. I wore black formal trousers, a light blue silk blouse and a black blazer, along with black stiletto heels. I wanted to give myself a businesswoman look on this big occasion.
Next to me, Shadab stood there in a Boss suit, complete with a black tie. Yet the way he had his hand in the front pocket of his trousers, and with his casual posture, he looked approachable and friendly, rather than like an intimidating businessman.
Naturally, the media was present. After all, it was the launch of a business of a Gillani heiress and a Rafeeque family heir. It was unintentionally, yet expectedly political.
"Do you two have any plans on getting married?" One of the reporters asked.
"'They plan and Allah plans. Surely, Allah is the Best of planners.'." Shadab replied, simply. "We go with the flow, and follow what He has decided for us."
YOU ARE READING
Empowered
Romans'A political empire, a forbidden love' Hamdan Gillani, the only son of political leader Samreen Gillani, refuses to fall into the dirty world of politics, and instead fights against corruption, even if it's in the form of his own family. His mother...
