TITLE CHANGED: PREVIOUSLY KNOWN AS FORCED
In the realm of love, there are the tales of love at first sight and the slow burn of affection after getting to know someone. However, our hero found himself caught in the midst of a unique journey - he fel...
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Beauty, like a flower needing the sun, blossoms in the light of others. Just as the moon reflects the sun's glow, we shine brightest when uplifted by the love and support of those around us.
Well, let's stat by saying, AllEyesOnRafah. Free 🍉
See end of Chapter for Notes/Glossary that explains the meaning of the terminology used for those who don't know Urdu.
Triger Warning: ⚠️ physical child abüse. Please only read if you are comfertable.
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Early August 2005, the relentless Pakistani sun blazed overhead, casting long, unforgiving shadows across the courtyard.
Shafaq, a fragile almost seven-year-old, found herself trapped in the scorching heat, her small feet burning on the concrete floor that had become an oven under the relentless high temperature. Her grandmother, Razia Begum, held her firmly by the arm, her grip as unyielding as the searing sun above.
"Like mother, like daughter," the old lady remarked with a sinister chuckle as she forced Shafaq to stand motionless in the centre of the courtyard, a place where the heat was most merciless.
"Be-be (24), I promise I didn't take the mango from the fridge," Shafaq pleaded, her small frame shifting restlessly from one foot to the other.
The courtyard's floor felt like hot coals beneath her tender soles. But Razia's heart remained cold and unmoved by her granddaughter's pleas.
"Now you're lying," she retorted. "Your mother is doing a fine job raising you and your brother. If you move from here without my permission, I'll make sure you can't walk again." She was unyielding.
"Be-be, my feet are burning," Shafaq cried out, her young voice trembling with the agony.
"This will teach you to never steal again," Razia Begum declared coldly, her words slicing through the air as she turned her back, locking the grill door (25) with a final, echoing clang.
Peering through the wire mesh of the veranda's grill, Shafaq glimpsed her mother. But instead of rushing to her aid, her mother remained silent, leaving the small soul to suffer in the sweltering heat, barefoot and abandoned. The child's cries echoed through the courtyard, a lament that reached every ear in the village except those within the walls of her own home.
"Amma, Manzoor bhai will be home any minute. Shafaq has been outside for two hours. If he sees her like this, he'll surely blame you," Amara said, more out of concern for her mother's position than for Shafaq's plight.
Razia Begum, nonchalantly popping corn kernels into her mouth, responded dismissively, "Oh my daughter, don't fret. My son wouldn't dare blame his mother for disciplining his child. But do let that shameless girl in."
