My husband hates me

Chapter 26

Seher knew she was risking her life, endangering herself by stealing resources from her father. When she had started dealing with people, Seher had realised money carried the power. Money spoke, sometimes money was the power, so she used that power to pull people on her side. And what exactly was her side? She couldn't convince them by speeches or moral values, because the rules of the village had literally shut their ears closed.

Men wouldn't listen, but women could.

'Bharat ko toh azaadi milgayi... we are an independent country. Mardon ko milgayi azaadi, aurton ka kya? Aren't we Indian too? Humein kab azaadi milegi? Ye padho".

(... men got their independence, but what about women? Aren't we Indian too? When will we get our independence? Read this.)

She passed a newspaper to the women who sat there, most shook their head, 'Humein padhna nahi aata (we can't read)' it went on until the last woman. The woman from lower sectors were uneducated, the daughters of labourers and farmers who were married off.

She sighed, "Likha hai ke desh mai aurton ki sankhiyan kam horahi, ladki paida hoti toh maardete, bimaar hoti toh theek se ilaaj nahi karate- kya hua ek biwi margayi toh dusri laadenge. Azaadi ke liye toh mahilaye bhi ladi thi, tees saal hogaye magar azaadi nahi mili (It is written that the number of women in the country is decreasing; if a girl is born, she is killed; if she falls ill, she isn't given the proper treatment, and why would they care if their wife dies, they will marry another. Women also fought for freedom, but even after thirty years, they haven't gained their freedom)".

One of the woman who sat there shook her head, "Seher jaanti ho kya kar rahi ho? General Sahib ko pata chala toh hum sabko zinda gaad denge (Seher, do you know what you're doing? If Jahangir Shaikh finds out, he will bury us all alive)" it was more of humour the way she said it, but Seher felt her heartache, "Kyun gaadenge? Unko kisne haq diya hai humari jaan se khelneka? Na humarey mulk ka kanoon unhe ye haq deta aur na khuda (Why would he bury us? Who gave him the right to play with our lives? Neither the law of our country nor God gives him that right)"

The woman went silent, "Seher tu apne ghar jaa, teri baaton se darr lagraha hai mujhe (Seher, you should go home; your words are scaring me)".

Seher looked around at the faces of the women, her heart raced as she continued, "Agar hum aise hi chup rahenge, toh kabhi kuch nahi badlega. Jang bina ladey kaise jeetogey?(If we stay silent like this, nothing will ever change. To win a battle we first need to fight)."

One of the older women, with lines etched deeply into her face, spoke up, "Ladkiyon ki maut ke liye hum kuch nahi kar sakte, magar Beta yaha kayi Maa hai jinki khudki betiyan hai, agar tumhari ye jang mai woh shaheed hogaye toh unke chotti bacchion ka kya hoga? (We can't do anything about the deaths of girls, but there are many mothers here who have their own daughters. If they become martyrs in this fight of yours, what will happen to their little girls..)"

"Amma..", she said softly, "Maut toh dono jagah hoskti, shauhar ke haaton shaheed honey se accha hai apni bacchiyon ke haq liye ladte ladte shaheed ho... takey aapke bacchey ye garv se kehsake ke meri Maa ne meri azaadi ke liye lada tha. Abhi nahi ladey toh aaney waali naslon ki har aurat issi gau ke peepal ke paid ke saamne apna dam todegi aur jeeyegi bhi toh roz roz ghut ghutkar maregi... kya chahte hai aap? (Death can come in both situations. It is better to become a martyr fighting for your daughters' rights than to be martyred at the hands of your husband... so that your children can proudly say that their mother fought for their freedom. If we don't fight now, every woman of future generations will die in front of this village's peepal tree or, if she lives, she will die a slow death every day. The choice is yours...)"

Seher's voice trembled as the last of the women left, leaving only her mother behind. She sank into a nearby chair, her hands clutching the edges as if for support. The room, now empty, felt heavier, filled with the echoes of the conversations that had just ended. Tears streamed down Seher's face as she spoke, Seher sank to the ground, tears streaming down her face. "Ammi, why is it so hard?" she sobbed, her voice breaking. "Why can't they see the need for change? I’m risking everything, and for what? To make them understand that they deserve better, that we all do?"