Hamida's Hostage (COMPLETE)

Chapter-1

Hamida sat down to read a book. After an entire day of work in the harem quarters, from sewing, weaving, to cleaning and serving the dowager empress Ruqaiyya Sultan Begum, the only thing that brought her some peace at twilight was a lit chandelier and a book of Persian couplets. Even though her quarter was one of the smallest in the zenana as the status of a concubine was the lowest, Hamida had decorated her cozy and warm room in a way that it looked the finest of the small rooms. Here, seated on a rug by the window, she would read whenever she could fish out a pinch of time.

Hamida kept the book aside and closed her eyes for a while. A gusto of thoughts seeped in. Often on calm nights like these, she rewarded herself some time aloof from the gold and glitter of the harem to dwell back upon her labyrinth of a life. Today she had completed 5 complete years in the zenana. It was almost impossible to look back on the day and think about that horrendous night when she was snatched from her parents at the tender age of 16 in the darkest of a summer night and thrown into the harem to satisfy Emperor Jahangir’s lust. The emperor was known to change women on his bed faster than the slaves changed his bed sheets. After that night, she knew her life was never going to be the same. For few nights Jahangir had summoned for her, each time killing more parts of her. Her dreams were killed, her aspirations were killed, and her fantasies of love were killed. She was mindless enough to think that the emperor must love her a little to summon her for five nights in a row, but a concubine is a concubine. The damage was done. She was only a toy for him, to satiate his one night stands. She knew that now her life was confined to the four walls of the harem; an outsider will see joy, glitter, comfort and luxury, but only a person who lived in the harem knew what a horrendous place it was, worse than prison, for Harem politics were more shrewd and miles ahead of the politics of the empire in general. A colorful and happy mask that the Harem wore for the outsiders juxtaposed with the black and white lives of the poor creatures banished in it.

She kept the book back in her huge trunk and curled up to her bed. Today, she was confused. She did not know whether to hate the Emperor for ruining her life, or be thankful to him for giving her the best gift ever, the light of her life, Marah, her 3 year old daughter. Jahangir impregnated Hamida when she was just 19, something not so uncommon in the harem for concubines. When a kaneez was impregnated by the emperor, her wages and living conditions improved to some extent. That is when she got a private quarter of her own; although small, it was enough for her and her daughter to have some privacy and the sense of a family. Tearing apart her petite body came out her little girl, and after 21 hours of excruciating pain, Hamida instantly fell for the cozy creature which had grown inside her for 9 long months. She knew it was worth it, all her sorrows were taken away that instant and she named the child Marah, meaning- Joy. Marah was the emperor’s daughter and the emperor had no idea about it, for in the Harem, there were thousands of women who bore Jahangir’s children. The children of the queens were only acknowledged and given a fair share of the throne.

I am already so excited. This is my first ever work on wattpad! I hope you guys liked it. Keep reading and let the story unfold!
Love,
-S