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🎶Layi ae je yaarian Phir laa ke todh nibhayi ae ni Muk jaave bhanwe jaan eh Par yaar toh door na jaayi ae ni
Sachiyan preetan jadon la layi ae, sajna nu nayi azmaayida Dil jadon dil na vata layi ae, Hath nayion apna chudaayida🎶
Author's POV
The glowing moon is like a symbol of true, serene love. When it reflects through the eyes of your soulmate, it feels like the world's most beautiful view. Its shine wraps around you like a warm hug. Touches you like a cool breeze. Makes the darkness within glow. It connects hearts like no other.
But today it felt like a sign of heartbreak.
Mehar Kaur Dhaliwal's eyes reflected the watery image of the moon amidst tears and agony, and he had never seen a more heartbreaking view than that. Those orbs that her husband had always wanted to see, crinkling in happiness, were full of pain today, and he had difficulty breathing, seeing that.
Every time she closed her eyes, tormenting words poured down her cheeks, slipping down her closed eyelids. The memory fresh behind her blurred vision. The yells. The bashing. The scolding for a mistake fate bestowed upon her. She could still feel the crumpled medical report lying on her feet, and her hands were trembling as she picked it up.
"Natural Conception is not possible," the clinical terms in bold had made her hold the table for support, but she stood still as oil was sprinkled onto the flames burning her insides.
"Mummy Ji has never been insulted like that before. Mehar, you shouldn't have accompanied us. This shouldn't have happened," her sister-in-law had said as soon as they had stepped inside the house. Nobody had asked how she felt after being subjected to that cruelty, but instead, she had to take the burden of theirs.
When she had looked at her mother-in-law, she had only said, "Arsh is right. You didn't belong there." Didn't belong between them. She meant. Mehar had heard the unsaid words.
"Mumma, even you know I didn't do anything wrong." Heck! The woman who didn't accept one loud word against herself heard those taunts quietly because they signalled her to do so. Yet she was the one to blame.
Her one sentence had riled them so much that things had escalated to her sister-in-law saying, "Dilraj is obliged to accept the burden of a scarred woman who can't even walk on her own two feet in front of the world, but we are not, so don't you dare argue with us. That man has stayed cooped inside, hiding you from the media for months now, the least you can do is keep his mother happy and not become a reason for our humiliation."
That had broken something inside her. She had trusted these people to fight the world for her. She had forgotten that they were a part of the world. She hadn't said a word after that, quietly accepting their blame. But apparently, walking away from that one-sided conversation was called disrespecting her elders by walking out on an argument, and she was stopped by that final straw to her misery.
