The gentle wind blew over the small village of the Azamgarh, flowing from the mountains, to the rivers and the two mansions. She sat at the edge, her ankles submerged in the water. The cold air and the freedom along with the decorated haveli making her feel lighter than before, Saad's son was born. She saw him, cute tiny little fingers, eyes as grey as him and he had Ayesha's brown hair.

Months had passed but she still wondered what her kid would have looked like, but that thought would come to a halt. And she would shake her head bringing herself out of the zone. She had wanted to stay away from Ayesha but when Saad was gone, during her labour, there was no one. She had to console her, hold her hand during the labour. It was awkward. They weren't friends, they could never be, but still they enjoyed each other's company to an extent. It was better than the lonliness of the palace. Seher didn't open up, but she was bored and curious.

She sent Razia for help, but Razia refused to help Ayesha take a bath.

"Khan treats you like that because of Ayesha", Razia muttered under her breath, Seher called her over, "When a husband cheats, the other woman is blamed, when a husband beats his wife, the wife is blamed. What about the husband?"

Razia sighed and picked up the oil jar massaging Seher's scalp, "Men... we can't change their behaviour, we can't affect their thinking. We can only win their hearts".

There was a hint of sadness in her voice as Seher looked up her hazel eyes dim, "What about a woman's heart?"

"Who cares about a woman's heart in a man's world?" Razia said bitterly, as she finished braiding Seher's hair.

Seher felt a pang of sympathy for Razia, who was kicked out of her in laws house after her husband passed away. She wondered if Razia ever dreamed of a different life, one where she could be happy and free.

"I care about your heart, Razia. And I care about mine. We are not just objects for men to use and discard. We have feelings, we have hopes, we have dreams. We deserve respect and love." Seher said softly, as she hugged Razia.

Razia was touched by Seher's words, but she also felt hopeless. She knew that in their society, women had no voice, no choice, no rights. They were expected to obey their husbands, bear their children, and serve their families. They had no say in their own destiny.

"But you know that nothing will change. We are trapped in this cycle of pain and suffering. We have to accept our fate and make the best of it." Razia said, as she wiped a tear from her eye.

Seher shook her head. She refused to accept that this was the only way to live. She had seen glimpses of a different world, a world where women could be educated, independent, and empowered. A world where women could choose their own partners, pursue their own careers, and follow their own passions. A world where women could be happy.

She had seen this world, the opportunities and freedoms that women enjoyed there. She wished she could be like the old Seher, but she also feared the consequences. She knew that if her father ever found out about her secret interests, he would be furious. They would accuse her of being a disgrace, a rebel, a sinner. They would punish her, confine her, or worse, kill her.

She knew that she had to be careful, to hide her true self, to play the role of a dutiful wife. She knew that she had to endure Saad's neglect, his infidelity, his violence. She knew that she had to pretend to be happy, to smile, to laugh. She knew that she had to lie, to herself and to others.But she also knew that she couldn't do this forever. She knew that one day, she would have to make a choice. A choice between living a life of misery and living a life of freedom. A choice between staying and leaving. A choice between dying and living.

___________

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow across the room, Seher sat down at the old oak desk. The letter from Saad lay unopened, its edges slightly frayed, much like the threads of their relationship.

"Ayesha Bibi came to know about the letter, she is coming over...", Razia informed as she stood at the door, Seher frowned, "But there was just one letter, and I think this was addressed to me... unless there was a mix up".  She opened the letter and started reading.

Seher,

I often find myself reflecting on our time together and the bond we shared. It is in these moments of reflection that I feel compelled to reach out and inquire about your well-being.

She was doing very well without him, what was this letter for? To remind her the cursed bond or the time they spent together where he abused her mentally and physically. Was that bringing him comfort in his lone moments? She wondered.

How have you been? Do you miss me?

Was this letter addressed to the wrong person? She turned the paper around, and but it was her name. Why would she miss him? She was happier, had more freedom and felt like herself after such a long time.

If you ever feel the need for a change of scenery or wish to revisit cherished memories, perhaps a visit to your father's place would be a pleasant diversion. I'm sure he would be overjoyed to spend some time with you.

She didn't understand the last words, but she felt happy. She could leave finally... she missed her mother.

Saad Nawab Khan.

She picked up the lemon water, and took a cotton bud trying to wipe away her name, and she did successfully. Tearing it from upper half she imitated Saad's handwriting and wrote, "Dear Ayesha".

Ayesha would appreciate this letter more than she would...

___

"Did he ever beat you?" Ayesha who was cooing at Musa stopped, she raised her eyebrows, "Who?"

"Saad", Ayesha shook her head, laughing, "Why would he beat me? Saad had never raised his hands on me, or any female. He had personally experienced how it feels to live in abusive home".

He had never raised hands on a female.

What about her? He had cut her on the wedding night the scars remained, he had slapped her countless times, he had raped her and even kicked her in the stomach.

Was that not beating?

"Did he ever cut you?"

Ayesha left the baby on the bed and walked towards Seher, "What's wrong with you? You seem tensed".

She shook her head still lost in her thoughts, "Just answer my question... did he ever-?"

"NO!"

Then why her?

And she wasn't the woman, he had shot his own sister infront of her.

"You mentioned Abusive home.."

Ayesha sighed and looked at the sky, "When we were younger Saad was quite different, he was mischievious, fond of poetries, he used to send me letters with verses by Hafez, Rumi, Khayem and Saadi. But when his mother died he... he stopped expressing himself".

Ayesha truly loved Saad, it seemed. Her eyes would shine whenever she would speak about him, her cheeks would turn rosy and a gentle smile would curve on her lips.

Seher didn't enquire further, but Ayesha wanted to share, "Nawab Khan whipped his wife to death... that tower is haunted. People said his younger sister went crazy too and died there..."

"When did she die?"

"A year ago... Saad told me she jumped off the tower",  He had lied to Ayesha about all of this, he had concealed the truth from her. No wonder she still loved that monster.

"Saad had suffered a lot, first his sister then his first child-", she couldn't control her laugh anymore, it was a laugh filled with pain. She held her stomach, there was disgust, hatred bubbling from inside her, "What happened Seher?"

"What... how did our first child die?"

Ayesha frowned, "You had a miscarriage?"

She bit her lip, about to destroy Ayesha's dream world, "He kicked me in the stomach", she brought Ayesha's hand near her pelvic, "Here, and you know why? Because I didn't wanted to sleep with him".

Ayesha's jaw hung open as she absorbed her words, "What nonsense! I don't believe you. My Saad can never stoop so low".

Seher smirked and lifted her kurta a little to show her the cut that ran from her abdomen to her pelvic bone, "Har dulhan ko shaadi k din mu dikhai milti haina, ye hai meri mu dukhai".

(Every bride gets her mu dikhai on the wedding night right? This is mine)

She ran her finger through the line, it was deep, the scar was not clean. "And I will always carry this scar with me".

Ayesha was quiet unable to utter a word but when she did it was, "You must have provoked him! Yes, you must have angered him enough that he punished you".

Seher closed her eyes, realizing it was no use. Ayesha had grown up in this city, in her world a man can never be wrong. It was always the woman.

___

If anyone is interested to know where Saahil is, or more about him, you can read June 1969- Love 1971.