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*

I know the last chapter got a little tragic, but I felt that it was an important point to raise. Since the major theme of this book is 'daughters', it was important to again raise the topic of things to consider at marriage, and how severe circumstances could be if married in a wrong place. I raised this topic loosely with Fariha in FOL, but things were even more extreme for Madiha. 

Fariha stayed to save her marriage, Madiha stayed for her son. Society as put so much stigma on women when marriages fail, that they completely overlook the fact (speaking for Muslims) that Islam has protected women with rights as well, and that women are not objects to be used and abused. 

*

Hania

"I'm so grateful to have a husband like you, Hamza." I snuggled up closer to my husband, as we sat in the living from of my father's house. I was silently shedding tears for our poor cousin-Bhabi who had certainly not deserved this fate. "I'm scared just thinking about what if I'd ended up with someone like him?" 

"I know she has suffered a lot, Han, but Allah will reward her so much for every single moment of pain, of fear and of torture that she had experienced at his hands." Hamza said. "May Allah grant her a place in Jannat-ul-Firdous. Ameen"

*Jannat-ul-Firdous is the highest level in heaven, as per the Islamic belief.

"Ameen." I felt shaken. "It's so strange, but normally when you make a prayer like that for someone, it is some much older. Not a twenty-something young mother. She should be living her life with her son, not..." Emotions poured out of me endlessly. 

"The only way to end this vicious cycle is for the next generation to raise our children right." He muttered, his arm tightening around me. "If we have a son, we must teach him two things first and foremost: first, to be close to Allah, and second to respect women. These things are mandatory to raise boys right. And if we have a daughter, we not only have to also teach her to be close to Allah, but also her rights. At no point should she tolerate abuse simply because of any duress, or helplessness. There should be no such thing as helplessness for our daughter or daughters. And our son shouldn't turn out to be an abusive pr**k like Saad." 

I sat up straight, pressing a hand over my stomach. "I cannot even imagine the pain she must have felt in her last moments. All her dreams for the future, for her son, all lost in misogyny and rage." 

"Saad will suffer." Hamza said. "When I was a kid, my Nano used to tell me this story, just to give me an idea about good and evil. She used to talk about an evil prince who used to terrorise a village with his cruel punishments on innocent people. He was a sadistic man who love torturing people as a hobby. And then one day, when he was torturing a small child for stealing an apple, a heavy gust of wind blew, and the next moment, the village was ravaged by a terrifying storm. It was an unusual storm though. The good villagers, including the child, and their homes remained safe, while the prince's castle was destroyed, as well as the homes of those who supported his cruelty him. The prince had nowhere else to go, and he ran into the forest, hoping to seek shelter. He lost his ways, and for days he wandered around helplessly, trying to find help, but nobody helped him. The once almighty prince was left defenceless and helpless, until he starved to death in the forest. Meanwhile, the village began to thrive, ruled by a fair leader." 

I was enjoying the story. 

"The moral of the story is that no matter how powerful you feel, there's always a force stronger than you. No more big an evil, there's always a bigger good. In a blink of an eye, he went from an evil, sadistic prince, to a lost, starving helpless man defeated by the force of nature." 

"It makes me wonder how evil Saad Bhai is if he forgot about everything taught by Phupho and Zafar Uncle, and just focused on what that awful man taught him." 

"Children's minds are very easily influenced, and so if Saad has been in contact with that man since childhood, I'm not surprised that this happened. Plus, the natural bond of father and son made him more inclined to follow him, rather than Zafar Uncle, and even his own mother." He shook his head. "I was raised by an awful mother, but I'm glad that I never reached Saad's level." 

"Aww, you were never even close to being like that, Hamza." I put my hand on his cheek. "Yes, you annoyed me so much, but your goodness always shone through in one way or another." 

He gave me a quick peck on the lips. 

"May Allah give Fariha Phupho and her family sabr after this. Ameen." My heart broke for my Phupho, who had always tried her best with her kids.

"Ameen." Hamza repeated, staring up at the ceiling, lost in thoughts.

****

Omar

I opened the gate, ready to greet another guest visiting to pay their respect. 

White sheets had been spread in our living room, with the ladies sitting inside. The men had white sheets spread out in the shaded area on the room. Everyone was reading from The Quran, or were generally making supplications for Madiha Bhabi, using prayer beads.

The funeral had been performed, but our family hadn't been invited to it. Mamma and Papa had still insisted on holding prayers for my departed sister-in-law.

Or shall I say murdered?

"Mamu!" I was shocked to see Fawad Mamu standing on the other side of the gate, looking grim. "Assalam Alaikum!"

"Walaikum Assalam!" He gave me a hug. "How are you, Omar?" 

"I'm still shocked, I guess." I hugged him back tightly. I was glad to see him. He could support both my parents.

"Yes, we all are." He nodded. He looked over my shoulder. "Silly question, but how are Fariha and Zafar?" 

"Mamma can't forgive herself, and Papa doesn't think he should be a policeman anymore." I replied, my own voice seeming sorrowful to me.

"He shouldn't blame himself. I know that if he had even one percent of an idea, he would have stopped it, as would have Fari." Mamu patted my shoulders.

"We can never get Saad back now." I looked at him. "I can't forgive him for what he put an innocent soul through, and what he has always put Mamma and Papa through. He has crossed the limits to an extent that there's no way back." 

He didn't disagree. My Mamu, who normally tried to see a redeeming quality in everyone had also given up on Saad. That said a lot about how unforgivable Saad's actions were.

"Come on." I nodded towards him and led him up to the roof. 

Zafar Papa was being a host, along with Ahad Uncle, but it was clear that he was forcing himself to do so. The warmth, cheerfulness in his eyes were replaced by gloominess that made my own heart sink with sadness. "Fawad Bhai!" He looked surprised, and immediately walked over to give his brother-in-law a hug. 

As they greeted each other, I walked downstairs to my bedroom, where Zaira was currently looking after Shezan. After knowing Madiha Bhabi's wishes about Shezan's custody, even her parents had been unable to take him away. Bhabi's lawyer cousin, the one who she'd handed her written wish to, had stepped in and said that the law was going to consider Madiha Bhabi's request as legally binding, considering that she was his mother and had the superior rights over Shezan.

Zaira and I were sharing duties. Sometimes I went to help Papa with the hosting, while Zaira took care of Shezan, and sometimes Zaira went to check on the ladies, while I played with my nephew. 

Nazia Aunty and Mumani were looking after everything because Mamma wasn't in the right state.

Before I entered my bedroom, I tried to compose myself. Seeing Shezan always brought tears to my eyes. I greatly empathised with him because I was also the son of a mother who had once been abused. The only difference was that I, Alhumdulillah, still had my Mamma, but the poor little boy had lost his to abuse even before he had left the stage of infancy.

Madiha has handed over Shezan's responsible to me and my wife with great hopes. I need to take care of the boy like a father, and show no injustice towards him. Please, Allah, give me the strength to show fairness towards him, even after we have our kids, the way Zafar Papa has always done so. Ameen.

My only worry was Zunaira. She was a new wife, and yes, she was incredible, but would she happily take care of Shezan, even after we have our own kids? 

There's only one way to find out. I stepped into the room, and stopped in my tracks. 

Zaira was sitting on the bed, with Shezan cuddled up against her, as she read from a book of nursery rhymes. Shezan had his thumb in his mouth, and he had tear tracks on his face, but was now sitting calmly.

"Everything okay?" 

"He started crying and calling out for her." Zaira looked up at me with damp eyes.

I still remember the days when our biological Dado used to lock me and Saad up in a dark room to punish up, and how we used to cry for our Mamma, who had been at work. Even in the darkest of times in our childhood, Mamma was our biggest strength, which was why my heart was wailing in despair for this little boy. 

I closed the bedroom door and walked over to sit on the bed. "Zaira, we need to..."

"...Be his parents. I know." She nodded, finishing his sentence. "I already want to protect this little baby angel with my life." 

"Through Madiha, Allah has placed this huge responsibility on us, and we have to fulfil it to the best of our abilities." I ran a hand over Shezan's head. "We don't want him to suffer for his father's acts. Kabhi bhi Maa Baap ki kami mehsoos nahin honay daini isay."

*"We'll never let him feel the absence of his parents." 

Zaira nodded, kissing the top of Shezan's head. "I fear Allah, Omar. I fear doing injustice to anyone, especially a little boy." 

"Are you genuinely happy to take his responsibility?" I asked. "If there's even the smallest of doubts, please let me know." 

She took my hand with her free hand. "I have no doubt about this. I know that it would be normal for a new wife to throw a tantrum over this, but I won't. We're blessed that our Allah has given us an opportunity to earn such a huge reward." 

When people look at my modern, stylish wife, they automatically assume that she had nothing to do with religion. There have been questions in our local area about her not wearing a hijab, or dressing too modern, even though she wore stylish shalwar kameez suits that respected the limits of our religion. However, it is wrong to assume that only a hijab-wearing person is closer to Allah. That's just judgemental thinking.

Zaira prays five times a day, she reads Quran regularly and she holds Islamic Story classes for kids on weekends, where she tells them stories about the Prophets in a way that kids enjoy. 

What did I do to deserve an amazing wife like Zunaira? I stared at her in awe. 

I could never imagine hurting her or intentionally causing her to cry. And then my own eyes filled up with guilty tears.

"Omar, are you okay?" She gently moved Shezan to lie on the bed, and came closer to sit beside me. 

"He lived here with her for a while, and we all missed it." I said. "We could have saved her, but we all..." I pursed my lips together. "We're all her culprits, with the exception of you." 

She shook her head. "Don't say that. Omar, you need to convince Mama and Papa that they are not responsible, and instead you're feeling the same." She took my hand in hers. "Madiha Bhabi kept her pain hidden very well. I know without any doubt that if, Mama, Papa or even Zaid even had a hint, you would have stopped it. Allah knows that. Allah will not hold you responsible if you had no way of knowing the truth. The only one responsible is Saad, and at most Umair Uncle. " 

"I wish we could have asked her for forgiveness." I buried my face in my hands and sobbed silently, my shoulders shaking. 

To my utter surprise, I felt little hands on my back. I turned and saw Shezan standing behind me, staring at me wide-eyed. My barely two-years-old nephew ran his little hand through my hair. I grabbed him and pulled him onto my lap, kissing the top of his head. "My little boy." 

"The huge fact that Madiha left her beloved son in your care shows that she held no resentment, no blame in her heart towards any of you." Zaira whispered. 

****

Fawad

I came downstairs after most of the guests had left. I had to see my sister, even though I didn't have the strength to. 

I knocked lightly on the door and waited outside, in order to respect the women inside.

The door opened and Mina came out. She stopped, her eyes widening. "Fawad?!" 

"Assalam Alaikum. Where's Fariha?" 

"Walaikum Assalam. When did you...?" Suddenly her eyes filled up. "Yeh kya hogaya hai, Fawad? Mujhe to soch sochke rona aaraha hai. Do bachiyon ki maa honay ki haisiyat se meri rooh kaamp jaati hai sochkar ke Madiha ki Maa pe kya ghuzar rahi hogi."

*"What has happened, Fawad? I keep crying just thinking about it. Being a mother of two girls, my soul trembles thinking about what Madiha's mother must be going through." 

I nodded. "I know. I can't even imagine. The father inside me actually wants to murder Saad with my bare hands."

"This could have been Iman." Mina muttered so softly that I almost missed it. "He was after her. Imagine if he'd been so annoyed at her rejection that he'd..." 

"Phir is waqt main jail main hota, aur woh kabar main." I didn't even feel ashamed saying it. The overprotective Hani & Mani Papa was in full rage mode after seeing someone else's daughter die at Saad's hands.

*"Then I would have been in jail at this time, and he would have been in the grave."

I suddenly realised that I was seeing her the first time after the scare she'd given us upon arrival in Lahore. "Tum theek ho na?" I couldn't hold her, hug her or kiss her here, but I looked at her from head to toe to make sure that there was nothing that I needed to worry about.

*"You're okay, right?"

She nodded. "Alhumdulillah." 

"Mina, mujhe Fari se milna hai. Bandobast kardo, please." I told her.

*"Mina, I need to meet Fari. Please arrange it."

She nodded and headed back into the room. 

I stepped aside until all the ladies had left the room, and Mina nodded at me to go inside.

I headed inside, closing the door behind me. Fariha sat on the floor, leaning against the wall, wrapped in a black shawl, lost in thoughts. Seeing her state made me emotional, but I composed myself. I walked over, crouched down in front of her, and placed my hand over her head.

An image of myself crouching down in front of a little Fari came running into my mind. She used to hide in her room, pouting, whenever she used to get in trouble. And I used to come and pacify her, and offered her cookies or chocolate to appease her. I still remember crouching down in front of her similarly and talking to her until she'd smiled.

She raised her eyes at me, and burst into tears. "Bhai!" 

****

Fariha

I genuinely felt, for a very brief moment, that my own Papa had placed his hand on my head.

I looked up and saw my big brother, the next best thing to my actual father. I burst into tears. "Bhai!" I started sobbing, burying my face in my shawl. "What have I done, Bhai? What have I allowed to happen?" 

"Did you know about the abuse?" He asked, softly.

I shook my head. "No, but I should have known!" 

"Should have known is different from actually knowing. If you had been aware of it and had failed to act, then you could have felt responsible. But if you were completely clueless, Fariha, you cannot be held responsible, and neither could Zafar, Omar or Zaid." 

"I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN!" I screamed out suddenly. "This was happening in my home, and I missed it! I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN BECAUSE I HAVE SUFFERED AT THE HAND OF A SIMILAR FILTHY B*****D!" I couldn't stop crying. "My child killed an innocent girl, Bhai! Even the angels would be cursing me for being such a useless mother!" 

He remained as calm and patient as ever, and he strongly reminded me of Papa. "Fariha, did you ever teach your sons to consider their wives as lower than them? Or to treat women like inferior creatures?" 

"Well, no, but..." 

"You've tried your best with them, and I have witnessed that myself. You struggled with your career, managing your in-laws and taking care of the boys, but you always made sure that Omar and Saad were raised right."

"Maybe that's it. Maybe I should have given up my career and fully focused on my sons. Maybe I could have raised Saad right then..."

"That's not the answer, and you know that. Even Omar was raised in similar situations, but he turned out to be an exceptional young man." He sat down on the floor beside me, leaning back against the wall. "Sometimes, no matter how hard we try as parents, kids go astray because there are just too many bad influences in the world, and there's only so much we can do to protect them from everything. All we can do is try our best. And for Saad, remember that the influence wasn't just anyone, it was his father." 

I quietly listened. He was making a lot of sense.

"We had difficulties with Iman as well." He continued. "We can blame the fact that I was always at work during their childhood, and was unable to help out Mina as much as I should have. But, in our case, there's Hania. We never had any trouble with her. Mani, like Saad, had been more impressionable, I guess."

"But Iman came back, and look where she is now, Ma Sha Allah." I pointed out. "She's someone we're all proud of. She would never hurt an innocent, Bhai!" 

"Yes, but I remind you once again, Fari, that one of Mani's bad influences wasn't her parent. This is where things differ between them. Saad had been brainwashed by Umair from an awfully young age, planting this idea inside him that his father is the hero, and that you and Zafar are the villains. It faded away for a while, but it never completely disappeared. Shadows of Umair's influence had clearly remained behind." 

"He was my baby, and he..." I started crying again.

"I know you're hurting. And I can't do anything to take that pain away, being his mother and all. But Fariha, there was nothing more you could have done. Saad slipped away from you and Zafar a long time ago, because of Umair's influence. It was too late for him." 

I nodded, and I actually felt like I'd just listen to my Papa explaining something to me. I looked at my brother, smiling. "It will take a long time to heal completely, but thank you, Bhai." 

He again patted my head.

"But please talk to Zafar again. He's considering quitting his job." I told him. "He doesn't feel worthy of being a policeman after such a huge crime happened in his family."

Bhai gave me a small smile. "Don't worry. Zafar is being handled by the best."

****

Zafar

After the guests left, I returned back to the roof to start clearing things up. 

Ahad was already there, leaning against the wall that acted as a railing. 

"Go home. Your family needs you too, Bhai." I told him with a weak smile.

"You know, I have a fireman friend. A fire started in his apartment building one night, in a different apartment, while he was asleep. In your professional opinion, was it his fault? Should he blame himself for the fire simply because he's a fireman, even though it happened in someone else's flat?" 

I shook my head at him. "Nice try. It happened in my home, Ahad. It started in my bloody home!" 

He looked directly at me. "If the roles were reversed, and if I had been in your place, would you blame me? Look at this from a different point of view, bro. You would giving me various reasons to prove that I was innocent." 

"I considered Saad my son. This cycle of abuse started at home, under my roof, with the poor girl suffering, without me getting even one damn tiny hint..."

He shook his head, scoffing. "It's so effing frustrating when the wrong people feel the guilt. Umair is running around freely, and Saad is still blaming Madiha, while you and Fariha Bhabi are bearing all the guilt. Saad is not a child, he's not naïve. He's fully accountable for his own actions. You and Bhabi have tried for two decades, but maybe he just isn't meant to come on the right path. If there was something wrong with your and Bhabi's parenting, then Zaid and Omar would be equally bad, but they both- especially Omar- are the examples of goodness and humanity. That shows that you both haven't messed up. You've given your lives for those boys, and if one of them happens to go astray, you can't hold yourselves responsible." 

I stared silently at the rooftops of Lahore, my heart breaking for my poor Fari. Even if she stops blaming herself, a part of her was permanently broken by this.

"Acha to nahin lag raha kehte huay laikin bohat badnaseeb hai Saad, jiske haathon kisi ka jaanbooch ke katal likha hua tha. Uska matlab hai ke chahe tum donon kuch bhi karletay, uske sudharnay ki koi umeed thi hi nahin kabhi." He said.

*"I don't feel good saying this, but Saad is very unlucky, as he was destined to intentionally murder someone. That means that no matter what you two would have done, there was no room for his improvement." 

"As a reformed person, I can genuinely say that most of it is down to whether you want to change or not. I wanted to change for my family's sake. The same happened with our Mani. Saad didn't want to change, Zaf, and considering that he's a fully grown adult, you cannot be held responsible for that." 

We both stood in silence for a long time.

"Ahad?" 

"Hmm?"

"Agar phansi ho gayi usko?" My mouth felt dry just saying those words.

*"If he is hanged?"

"To woh uske liye asaani hogi, Zafar. Jo usnay Madiha ke saath kiya hai, to uske liye phansi asaan ho gi. Sahi to tab ho jab woh saari zindagi jail main ghuzare aur soch sochkay tadpak ke usne akhir kiya kya hai."

*"Then it would be an easy way out for him, Zafar. After what he did to Madiha, hanging is an easy way out for him. It would be good if he spends the rest of his life in jail, tortured by the thoughts of what he has done to her."

A small part of me was scared for Saad. You know that part on a log ride or a roller coaster, that tiny pause before you're suddenly plunged down? Saad was currently on that stage in life. He was constantly awaiting the moment when he faced the punished for the death of Madiha, and as his parents, Fariha and I were the ones holding our breath. 

No judge in a worldly court could ever compare to when Saad will have to face his Creator and be held accountable for Madiha's torture and death.

We all feared the day we were held accountable for our deeds in front of Allah, but with no repentance visible in Saad, Fari and I were terrified for him.

Children mess up, but as parents we're always the ones who end up suffering.

But I had to let go of this blame. This had been out of our control. 

Saad and Umair were the ones responsible for this, and instead of quitting, I was going to bring them to justice. I was going to be the tough, merciless policeman and I was going to make them pay for Madiha's torture and death, all lawfully.

****

Omar

We sat in the living room, me, Zaira, my parents, Mamu and Mumani.

"I've made a decision." I announced, meeting Mamu's gaze. I'd already discussed this with him, asking for his advice. "I'm going to send Mamma and Papa to Umrah. Mamu mentioned taking Mumani, and I suggested that Mamma and Papa go along with them, and he was really happy at the idea." 

"Ma Sha Allah!" Mumani smiled at her husband,

"I appreciate this so much, meri jaan, but you should take Zunaira." Mamma said.  

"Mamma, maa baap ko yeh khushi dain ge hum, to In Sha Allah humain bhi Allah moka dega. Aap donon pareshan hain is waqt, aur waise to Khuda ko kahin bhi yaad karlo, woh kafi hai, laikin wahan jake apni saari pareshani, saari takleef door karlain." Zunaira reassured her.

*"Mamma, after giving our parents this happiness, In Sha Allah, Allah will also give us this opportunity [to go to Umrah]. You both are worried right now, and even though you can turn to Allah anywhere and it's enough, but going there you can remove all your worries and pain."

"Waise mera beta zayada lagta hai Omar." Mamu teased Mamma with a grin.

*"Omar seems more like my son." 

"That's because he got influenced by you at the right age. The way Saad got influenced by Umair in childhood and remained like that, Omar was influenced by you. You definitely can take credit for that, Bhai." Papa told him.

"No," Mamu got modest again. "The credit goes to Fariha and you, for both him and Zaid. I'm very, very proud of both of them." 

"Even Zaid?" I teased as my youngest brother walked into the room and greeted everyone, back home from university.

"You're hilarious." Zaid muttered, bowing his head in front of Mamu to take his blessings. "Aap agaye? Acha kiya, Mamu. Main university main family history kar raha hoon. Dadiyal ki to history leli hai Papa se, aur Mamma keh rahi theen ke Naniyal ki aap hi sahi de sakte hain."

*"You came? You did the right thing, Mamu. I'm doing a family history project in university. I got the history of my paternal relatives from Papa, and Mamma said you can give the proper maternal side history." 

"Kaam ke liye hi Mamu yaad aate hain." I again teased my brother.

*"You only remember Mamu when there's work."

"Koi baat nahin. Waqt hai to aajao ghar mere saath. Main aapke Nana Jaan ki cheezain dikhaon ga, aur aapko saari history samjhadoon ga." Mamu told him.

*"No problem. If you have time, come home with me. I'll show you all your maternal grandfather's things, and will explain the whole history to you." 

Zaid grinned. 

I looked at Mamma, who was lost in her thoughts now. I just knew that she was feeling Saad's absence. His absence would always be felt by us, but because of his actions, there was no room for him amongst us. 

Until then, Zaid and I will do anything and everything to make her and Papa happy again.

****

Iman

I never thought that I, Iman Fawad, would ever go baby shopping...voluntarily!

Well, actually, I took Dado out because I needed to get a few formal shirts as I had a few important presentations for which I had to dress smartly. 

But I saw the baby section and my feet automatically headed in that direction.

A few minutes later, and Dado and I were both gushing over the cuteness of the baby outfits.

"I'm so excited!" I told her. "I can't wait to hold my nephew or niece in my arms, In Sha Allah." 

It was still hard to believe that my sweetheart Appi, Mama and Papa's little Hani, was about to be a mother. In Sha Allah!

As I looked through the shelves, I felt a pat on my shoulder.

I turned...

...and suddenly my face was burning as a liquid of some sort was thrown over it.

I screamed and screamed and screamed with pain.

I had been the victim of an acid attack.

****

I woke up with a loud scream, that probably shook the foundation of my parents' house. "MAMA!" 

I was crying, terrified out of my mind. I reached up, touching my face and finding nothing but my soft, smooth skin. With shaking hands, I turned on the lamp.

The situation with Madiha Bhabi had caused a deep fear inside me. I could have been a victim of his just as easily!

I wanted Mama and Papa. I wanted to feel safe again. I wanted Papa to tell me that he would never let anyone even look at me the wrong way.

"Mani?" A soft knock on the door made me jump and I looked towards it as Appi entered.

"What happened? Are you okay?" Appi asked.

I looked at her. "I've been thinking of something and I have made a decision."

"About what?" She asked, sitting at the edge of the bed.

I edged closer to her and grabbed her hands. "I'm going to speak to Zoya Mumani, and I'm going to ask about starting my own charity for acid attack victims in Pakistan."

****

Another emotional chapter, but this was more about recovery after a tragedy.

Are you proud of Iman's decision?

Omar and Zunaira are truly a blessing for ZaFariha.

Thoughts and comments?

Thank you for reading and don't forget to vote!