The first rays of sunlight crept through the curtains of the Khan Haveli, illuminating the room where Meerab sat in quiet contemplation. The golden light touched the elegant furnishings, the ornate decor that once felt like home now seemed suffocating, a constant reminder of her pain and betrayal.
As she gazed out of the window, her mind replayed the events of the past few weeks like a haunting melody. After the confrontation with Maa Begum, she had decided to take control of her life, a decision that felt both liberating and terrifying. The idea of divorce had taken root in her heart, a seed that grew stronger with each passing day.
The thought of leaving Murtasim filled her with a bittersweet ache. Part of her wanted to hold on, to cling to the love they once shared. But the other part—the part that had felt his wrath—knew that she could never return to a relationship tainted by violence and control. She was done being a prisoner in her own life.
As she packed her belongings, the weight of her decision settled on her shoulders like an anchor. Each item she placed into the suitcase felt like a physical representation of the life she was leaving behind. Memories of laughter, love, and warmth were intertwined with pain, fear, and betrayal.
“Maa Begum,” she called, her voice steady as she turned to face her mother-in-law, who stood at the doorway, her expression a mix of concern and confusion. “I need to talk to you.”
“Is everything alright, Meerab?” Maa Begum asked, stepping into the room. Her eyes flickered over the suitcase on the bed, realization dawning on her face.
“No,” Meerab replied, her heart pounding in her chest. “I’m leaving. I’ve made up my mind. I want a divorce.”
Maa Begum’s eyes widened in shock. “Divorce? But… why?” she stammered, struggling to comprehend Meerab’s words. “You can’t just throw away your marriage like that! What about Murtasim?”
“Murtasim made his choice when he violated my trust,” Meerab said, her voice unwavering. “He took everything from me, and I refuse to allow him to dictate my future. I cannot live like this anymore.”
Maa Begum opened her mouth to protest, but Meerab raised a hand to silence her. “I understand that you want to protect your son, but he doesn’t deserve my forgiveness. Not after what he did. I need to take care of myself now.”
“Please, Meerab,” Maa Begum implored, her voice trembling. “He is your husband. He loves you. You can work through this. You must try.”
“Love?” Meerab scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. “That’s what he calls love? What he did to me was not love. It was brutality. I will not be chained to him because of a name. I deserve to be free.”
Maa Begum’s shoulders sagged as she realized the depth of Meerab’s resolve. “You’re making a mistake,” she whispered, tears welling in her eyes. “You can’t just walk away from your family. This will break him.”
“Then he will have to learn to live with the consequences of his actions,” Meerab said firmly, her voice unyielding. “I refuse to be a prisoner in my own home.”
Maa Begum looked at Meerab, desperation evident in her gaze. “Please, don’t do this. Give him a chance to apologize, to make things right. You don’t understand how much he’s suffering without you.”
“His suffering doesn’t excuse his actions,” Meerab replied, her heart heavy but resolute. “I have suffered enough. It’s time for me to reclaim my life.”
With that, she turned away, her heart pounding as she continued to pack. Maa Begum watched her with a mixture of disbelief and sorrow, knowing there was no point in trying to change her mind. Meerab had made her choice, and the consequences would ripple through their lives.
