“Laaj, tera mann lag jaata hai mere bagair?” Halima asked as she and her friend Lajjo sat together on a cot in the backyard. Today, they had chosen a spot at the far end of the backyard under the shade of the cluster fig tree.
(Laaj, do you manage without me?)
Lajjo looked at her with a warm smile. “Yaad toh bohot aati hai, par kya karein? Tumhari shaadi ho gayi.”
(I miss you a lot, but what can we do? You got married.)
Halima’s eyes dimmed as the reality sank in—that she’d never experience her carefree school days again. Her heart ached with sorrow.
“Kya karun mai bhi? Majboori hai meri, Laaj. Tu toh samajhti hai na? Maine toh shaadi isliye ki thi kyunki mujhe laga tha acche acche kapde milenge aur gehne bhi, par…” Her voice wavered, hurt by the betrayal she felt from her family and those around her.
(What can I do? I had no choice. You understand, don’t you? I got married because I thought I’d get fine clothes and jewelry, but…)
With Lajjo, Halima felt different—she wasn’t forced to be respectful. She could let down her guard with Lajjo because, despite being wise beyond her years, Lajjo never imposed boundaries on their friendship.
“Tujhe pata hai, doosre master aaye hain ganit ke liye aur maarte bhi bohot hain”,Lajjo said, trying to lighten Halima’s mood.
(You know, there’s a new teacher for math, and he hits students a lot. )
Lajjo had already given Halima all her study materials, and now, with studies out of the way, they could indulge in gossip about school and Halima’s dull life after marriage.
Suddenly, Halima asked, “Laaj, teri maa ki tabiyat kaisi hai?”
(Laaj, how is your mother’s health?)
Lajjo’s smile faded as she played with the ropes of the cot. “She’s managing, but her body’s giving up. That’s why I’ve started going to Rajput Haveli. Par Halima, mujhe wah jagah surakshit nahi lagti... Jaise koi mujhe hamesha dekh raha ho.” She sighed, continuing,
“Maa keh rahi thi ki mujhe wahan nahi jaana chahiye, par mai kya karun? Maa humare liye itna kar rahi hai. Woh Thakur Bhanu Pratap se humari school fees ke paise kamati hai, toh mai unke liye kuch toh karna chahti hoon.”
(But Halima, I don’t feel safe there. It feels like someone is always watching me. — Mother told me not to go there, but what can I do? She works so hard to pay my school fees by doing all their chores,I want to do something for her.)
Tears filled her eyes as she remembered her first day there—the way they treated her mother with such harshness, forcing her to work without concern for her deteriorating health.
“Apni maa ki sun Laaj...”,Halima tried to warn her. Perhaps there was a reason her mother didn’t want her to go there.
(Listen to your mother, Laaj...)
Lajjo just smiled at her. Now as an eighteen year old, she understood the nature of men’s stares and the difference between a good touch and a bad one. Though many in her family urged her to marry, her mother insisted she should focus on her studies, and being the obedient daughter, Lajjo topped her class every year.
After talking a while longer and eating some guavas, Lajjo finally left. Halima always packed a few fruits for her to take home, whenever she visited.
Once Lajjo had gone, Halima lay under the shade of the fig tree, eyes closed, and drifted off to sleep. She awoke to her mother’s sharp voice as dusk settled.
“Halima! Tu kyun meri zindagi barbaad karne par tuli hai? Tujhe apna nahi, par humara toh khayal kar le! Itni raat ko gular ke neeche leti hai, bhoot- shaitaan pakad le toh zindagi bhar ka rona!”, Her mother’s voice trembled with anger and frustration.
(Halima! Why are you so determined to ruin my life? Even if you don’t care about yourself, think of us! Lying under the fig tree so late, what if an evil spirit grabs hold of you? It’ll be a lifetime of regret!)
Halima quickly sat up, looking at the now-orange sky, and saw her mother wiping her eyes, pretending something had irritated them. But Halima knew better—she was hiding her tears.
Halima stood and hugged her mother, even as she tried to push her away. “Amma, maaf kar do. Mujhe pata nahi chala kab so gayi yahan. Ab se shaam ko yahan nahi aaungi, kasam hai.”
(Mother, forgive me. I didn’t realize I fell asleep here. I swear I won’t come here in the evening again.)
No matter how much her parents criticized her, she held no resentment. She loved them deeply and let their hurtful words roll off her back.
“Amma, Abba ne kuch kaha hai aapko? Phirse daata?”,Did she asked, resting her chin on her mother’s shoulder.
(Father say something again? Did he scold you?)
With tearful eyes, her mother pulled away and, with a heavy heart, whispered, “Kaash tu ladka hoti, Halima. Toh mujhe yeh sab na sehna padta.”
(If only you had been born a son, Halima. I wouldn’t have to bear all this.)
Halima watched her mother walk away, her heart sinking. She turned to the cot, picking up the plate and knife she had used to cut guava and papaya.
She thought,Why only me? Rafia could have been a son too. Why am I the one to bear all these taunts?
After eating, Halima made her way to her room, but the sound of her father’s shouts drew her attention. Her heart sank—Rahman was drunk again.
She hesitated but decided to go to her grandfather, Bakhtiyar Chaudhary’s room. She needed a break from the tension and didn’t want to risk her father’s temper.
As she slipped into the room and lay beside him, Bakhtiyar opened his eyes, sensing her presence.
“Kya hua mera baccha?”,he asked, looking into her face as she gulped, feeling a tight ache in her throat at the warmth of his voice.
(What happened, my child?)
She opened her eyes when he began gently stroking her hair, and a tear slipped out. “Daddu, kab ye sab sahi hoga? Mai toh bas so gayi thi aur amma ne mujhe phirse ladka na hone ka taana diya. Aur ab dono mein phirse ladaai ho rahi hai.”
(Grandfather, when will things get better? I just fell asleep, and Mother scolded me again for not being a boy. And now, they’re both fighting again.)
Bakhtiyar sighed, still stroking her hair. “Meri bacchi, isi liye toh maine Raza ko kaha tha ki shaadi kar le tujhse, tujhe iss se toh chutkara milta. Par tu jhalli hai, nahi maani, aur phir yaha aa gayi.”
(My child, that’s why I asked Raza to marry you—to free you from all this. But you’re stubborn and didn’t listen, and here you are.)
Halima’s eyes reddened as she looked at her grandfather with a hint of disappointment. “Daddu, aapse ek baat bataun? Aap kisi ko batana mat.”
(Grandfather, should I tell you a secret? Don’t tell anyone.)
He smiled and nodded. “Dusre din hi badi amma ne mujhe tamacha maara tha. Mujhe woh ab bilkul pasand nahi hai.”
(On the second day, Aunt slapped me. I don’t like her at all.)
Bakhtiyar’s eyes widened in shock and anger. “Unhone tumhe?”
(She hit you?)
She nodded, her face a mix of innocence and frustration, and began pouring her heart out to him. Bakhtiyar’s heart sank; he’d married her off thinking they’d treat her like a queen, but how could he have overlooked that they might mistreat her just because they disliked Raza?
“Raza ko pata hai?”,he asked, and Halima shook her head.
(Does Raza know?)
“Aap unko batana bhi mat. Sirf Rafia ko aur aapko pata hai. Rafia ne kaha ki jabtak mai na chahun, tabtak mujhe yahan se koi nahi le ja sakta.”
(Don’t tell him either. Only Rafia and you know. Rafia said no one can take me from here unless I want to leave.)
Bakhtiyar sighed, patting her cheek. “Beta, woh tera sasural hai, yeh baat samajh le tere daddu ki. Teri daadi ek baar aayi thi yahan, toh kabhi nahi gayi. Kehti thi ki aurat ke ghar chodne par uski jagah koi aur le sakta hai, iss mein waqt bilkul nahi lagta. Chali jaana, jitni jaldi jaana ho utna tere liye behtar hai.”,he said, his voice deep with meaning.
(My child, that’s your in-laws’ home; Understand one thing from your grandfather: once your grandmother came here, she never returned again,She used to say that once a woman leaves her home, someone else can take her place, and it doesn’t take any time at all. Go back as soon as you feel you should; the sooner, the better for you.)
He looked down at her, and she only stared back, the weight of his words settling heavily in her heart and mind.
Halima moved closer, reaching out to take his hand. She placed her head gently on his weathered hand, lying at a short distance. When she was a child, she would cling to him without hesitation; now, with the passing years, she settled for just holding his hand and resting her head on it.
Bakhtiyar Chaudhary fell silent, lost in thought, contemplating the need to talk to Raza. Just then, Halima’s voice broke through.
“Daddu, unko mat batana aur kisi ko bhi nahi, kyunki sab ulta mujhe hi bolenge. Aur haan, mai abhi chali jaungi jab Amma Abba ki ladaai khatam ho jaaye tab.”
("Grandfather, please don’t tell him, or anyone else, because everyone will turn it against me. And yes, I’ll leave once Amma and Abba’s fight is over.")
Bakhtiyar smiled faintly, patting her cheek with affection.
After a few moments, he spoke, the warmth in his tone lightly scolding. “Puttar, maine dekha hai ki kuch dinon se mere paandaan se paan gayab ho rahe hain. Chor ka pata toh lagaa"
("Daughter, I’ve noticed that my betel leaves have been disappearing from my betel box for the past few days.Find the thief for me")
Halima bit her tongue, suppressing a guilty yet mischievous smile, then stood up with a grin. "Amma Abba ka jhagda khatam ho gaya, Daddu. Mujhe lagta hai mujhe jaana chahiye kamre mein."
(Amma and Abba’s fight is over now, Grandfather. I think I should go to my room.)
Bakhtiyar narrowed his eyes at her. "Kitni baar kaha hai mera paandan mat chuna, par tum nahi manogi. Koi doosra tareeqa nikalta hoon main," he warned, though the warmth in his voice betrayed his amusement.
(How many times have I told you not to touch my betel box, but you just won’t listen. I’ll have to find another way to stop you.)
She giggled as she left, daring him silently to try.
After dinner, she sat alone in her room, relieved by the calm after her parents' argument. Her father had stormed out of the house soon after the fight, leaving an unexpected peace.
She was hunched over her notebook, absorbed in solving her math problems,she looked up at him with a soft sigh, her gaze uncertain, holding a flicker of unspoken thoughts.
"Accha hua aap aagaye, yeh jo hai na, mujhe bilkul nahi samajh aaraha hai," she said, looking at him as he entered the room.Raza paused, giving her a quick glance before heading toward the almirah.
(Good that you came, I am not able to understand any of this at all.)
"Ruko toh. Main fresh hokar aata hoon, tab tumhare saare masle khatam karta hoon," he replied, disappearing into the bathroom.
(Wait. I'll come back after freshening up, then I'll sort out all your issues.)
She walked up to the bathroom door and called out, "Aapne khana khaya?"
(Did you eat?)
Amidst the sound of water, his voice resonated, "Tum kabse khaane ka poochne lagi?"
(Since when did you start asking about food?)
Biting her lip, she debated whether to reveal her reasoning, finally saying, "Meri saheli Laaj hai na, usne mujhe bataya ki pati ko khana aur paani ke liye poochna humara biwi ka farz hota hai."
(My friend Laaj told me that it is a wife's duty to ask her husband about food and water.)
Raza smirked at her choice of words, amused that she hadn’t adjusted her language. Pati aur biwi ya phir patni jo bhi ho, kam se kam koi toh sahi baat bata raha hai," he muttered with a smile.
(Husband and wife, or whatever you call it, at least someone is telling you something right.)
"Main khana laaun ya aap bahar khayenge?" she asked, pacing back and forth, nervous from asking him this for the first time.
(Should I bring food, or will you eat outside?)
"Chulha jalana aata hai?" he asked, pouring water over himself.
(Do you know how to light the stove?)
"Haan aata hai na," she replied eagerly.
(Yes, I do know.)
"Toh jaao ek glass doodh garam kar laao, khana khane ka mann nahi hai," he instructed, wrapping a towel around his torso.
(Then go warm up a glass of milk, I don’t feel like eating.)
"Ji, thik hai," she replied, leaving with a smile. As she entered in kitchen,she spotted Sanno munching on dry fruits,she raising her brows approached Sanno.
(Alright)
"Amma ko bataun ki Sanno chori kar ke kaju badaam khati hai?"
(Shall I tell mother that Sanno steals cashews and almonds to eat ?)
Sanno jumped in shock, quickly pleading, "Bibi, aaj pehli baar khaya hai. Na karo aisa, bohot daant padegi."
(This is the first time, miss. Don’t do that, I’ll get scolded badly.)
"Thik hai, ek shart par," she teased, watching Sanno’s intense nod, ready to keep the secret.
(Alright, on one condition.)
"Chalo chulha jala aur acchi si badaam waali doodh banao, aur kisi ko mat batana ki tumne banaya hai," she instructed, making Sanno roll her eyes before preparing the milk and handing her the glass.
(Go light the stove and make a nice almond milk, and don’t tell anyone you made it.)
Halima’s eyes sparkled as she looked at the rich milk meant for Raza.She walked into the room to find him seated in just his trousers, his damp hair falling over his forehead.
Instantly, she looked down, hands trembling at the sight of his bare chest.
"Aap kuch pehen lein," she murmured, setting the glass on the table,he smirked, their eyes meeting through the curtain of his hair.
(Please wear something.)
Flustered, she mumbled, "Main paani le kar aati hoon," and reached for the jug, only to have him seize her hand, pulling her toward him.
(I’ll bring water.)
She landed in his lap, and as she tried to pull away, he wrapped his arm around her waist, keeping her there.
"Chod dein na, please," she pleaded, her hands shyly resting on his chest, feeling the coldness of his skin and the dampness of his chest.
(Please let me go.)
"Aankhein kholo," he commanded softly, watching her face go pale.
(Open your eyes.)
She opened her eyes, her cheeks reddening with shame. "Please mujhe jaane dein," she murmured.
(Please let me go.)
With a smirk, he shook his head, and in that moment, she caught a hint of Gabbar from Sholay in his expression,her eyes shut tightly.
"Aankhein kholo, isse pehle ke main tumhe wajah doon aise aankhein band karne ki," he said, imagining something forbidden.
(Open your eyes before I give you a reason to close them.)
She looked at him in confusion, urging him to be clearer with her eyes amd expressions.
He chuckled, "Mujhe darr hai agar maine tumhe bata diya sab, toh tum pehle mere ghar se bhaagi thi, ab yahan se pata nahi kahan bhaag jaaogi."
(I’m afraid if I tell you everything, you’ll run away from here just like you did before from my house.)
Pouting, she glared at him. "Aap mujhe bacchi na samjhein, mujhe Lajjo ne aaj bohot kuch samjhaya hai."
(Don’t think of me as a kid, Laajjo taught me a lot today.)
"Kya samjhaya hai?" he asked, intrigued.
(What did she teach you?)
With a proud smile, she tried to stand, but he held her firmly in his arms. Forgetting she was still in his lap, she continued, "Usne bataya jab bhi aap aaye toh aapse khana aur paani ka puchun, aapke pair dabaun, aapki khidmat karun aur aakhri aur ehm baat, aapka kehna maanu, toh aapko main rijha lungi, aap meri ung..." She instantly bit her tongue, realizing she’d revealed too much.
(She told me that whenever you come, I should ask about food and water, massage your feet, serve you, and most importantly, obey you. That way, I’ll charm you, and you’ll be dancing on my finge...)
Raza’s eyebrows raised in surprise. He understood exactly what she was about to say.
After a pause, he cleared his throat, loosening his grip. She quickly moved beside him, her fingers nervously tracing patterns on the duvet.
He observed her silently, his mind wandering. Was her friend really teaching her how to trap her husband and make him dance to her fingers?
He suddenly burst into laughter, imagining his micro body dancing on her finger like they are shown in cartoons, making Halima stare at him in shock.
Turning to her, he pulled her close, and she leaned in, feeling too shy to pull away.
"Tumhe pata hai, main tumhari ungli par kab naachunga?" he teased, his voice thick with amusement.
She shook her head, speechless.
"Jab tum mujhe woh sab dogi jo har shohar chahta hai, par uske liye abhi tum bohot choti ho, seh nahi paaogi woh shiddat," he murmured, as he slowly lay down, pulling her beside him.
(When you give me what every husband wants, but for that, you’re still too young, you won’t be able to handle that intensity.)
His fingers trailed along her arm, causing her to stare at his chest in shame, trying to process everything her mother, mother-in-law, Laaj, and Rafia had been telling her.
“Main bacchi nahi hoon.Maine aaj suna amma abba ko ladte hue aur wo keh rahe the aapke ghar wale aur aap khush nahi hain. Mujhe Badiamma zeher lagti hai, par aapko khush karne ke liye toh main kuch bhi kar sakti hoon. Aap kahin toh sahi,” she said innocently.
(I am not a child. Today, I heard my parents fighting, and they were saying that your family and you are not happy. I feel like Auntie is poison, but I can do anything to make you happy. Just say the word.)
His eyes blinked for a moment, and his eyebrows creased together. “Meri amma kyu zeher lagti hai?"
(Why does my mother seems poisonous to you?)”
“Main nahi bataungi. Agar aap poochenge toh main so jaaungi. Waise bhi mujhe neend aa rahi hai,”she said, closing her eyes.
(I will not tell you. If you ask, I will fall asleep anyway; I'm feeling sleepy.)
Raza looked at her face for a few moments before his hand reached to caress her cheek. “Tum kuch bhi kar sakti ho mere liye?
(Can you do anything for me?)”
She opened her eyes, her gaze locked onto his, and after a few seconds, she nodded.
He took a deep breath and patted the space between them. Understanding his silent invitation, she scooted closer, never breaking eye contact.
“Tumhara janmdin kab hai?", he asked, and her confused expression only deepened.
(When is your birthday?)
“Third January,” she replied, and he felt a spark of joy at her words.
He thought there was still a year left, but only two and a half months remained until she turns Eighteen.
“Tum chahti ho ki main tumhe tumhari biwi hone ka haq doon?", he asked, and her expression spoke volumes. He sighed, trying once again to make her understand.
(Do you want me to give you the right to be my wife?)
“Tumhe jab main choota hoon toh accha lagta hai ya bura?",he asked, placing his right hand on her waist and inching closer. Her heartbeat raced at his actions, and her throat felt dry but it felt good.
(Do you feel good or bad when I touch you?)
“Halima, main jo pucho sahi-sahi jawaab do. Aur tumhe pata hai, mujhe apni baat baar-baar kehne mein accha nahi lagta.” His left hand touched her cheek, tilting her head slightly upward as he slid his hand beneath it.
(Halima, answer me truthfully. You know I don’t like repeating myself.)
“Jawaab do, Halima!",he insisted, his gaze unwavering.
(Answer me, Halima!)
She nodded innocently, rolling her eyes. “Goongi ho?”
(Are you mute?)
She shook her head and whispered, “Accha lagta hai.”Her voice trembled, low and soft.
(It feels good.)
He kissed her forehead, running his left hand's fingers through her hair. He knew this was uncomfortable for her, but he wanted her to make her understand everything. It was his duty that his wife knew about their relationship.
“Palto." he commanded gently. She slowly closed her eyes and turned, her body stiffening with uncertainty about what he might do next, while his left hand remained on pillow,under her head.
(Turn over)
His fingers traced a path from her waist to her stomach, and she instinctively grabbed his hand, intertwining her fingers with his.
“Haath hatao, Halima", he whispered. She shook her head tightly, refusing, her grip tightening around his. He pulled her hand behind her back, firmly gripping her fingers between his.
(Remove your hand, Halima...)
A gasp escaped Halima's lips as Raza twisted her arm slightly upward, leaning close to her ear and whispering softly, “Do you want me to get angry?”
“N-Nahii…”,she murmured, feeling the pain in her arm.
(No...)
“Kaho ki ab tum meri saari baat maanogi.", His voice was husky; he knew it was wrong, but her defiance was pushing him to his limits.
(Say that you will obey me from now on...)
“Haan, main maanungi aapki baat... please haath chhod dijiye, dard ho raha hai,” she pleaded, and he immediately released her hand. She quickly lay on her back, rubbing her shoulder and hand.
(Yes, I will agree to what you say... please let go of my hand, it hurts.)
He simply lay there, gazing at her flushed face, which she refused to meet. He chuckled, “Ab koi keh raha tha ki wo bacchi nahi hai, kya hua?,he teased.
(Didn’t someone just said,she is not a child? What happened?)”
Her anger surged, and her eyes brimmed with tears. His playful demeanor halted as he immediately sat up, leaning closer to her and grabbing her arms. “Maine toh sirf halka sa maroda tha tumhara haath. Zyada dard ho raha hai?",he asked, feeling a pang of guilt.
(I only twisted your hand a little. Is it really hurting that much?)
“Aap bohot bure hain,” she whispered, tears cascading down her cheeks.
(You are very bad.)
“Ab aisa toh na karo, Halima.”, He sat up, guilt and sadness, holding both his ears in a gesture of contrition. “Maaf kar do yaar, dekho kaan pakad liya, ab se aisa nahi karunga, meri bacchi ke saath."
(Don’t do this, Halima. —Forgive me, look, I’m holding my ears; I won’t do this again with my little child.)”
At his words, she began to cry harder. He sat there, bewildered, unsure of how to comfort her until, after a few minutes, he heard her choked voice.
“Aap ye teesri baar mujhe bacchi keh chuke hain. Main aapse kabhi baat nahi karungi ab. Main bacchi nahi hoon, main sab seh lungi. Mujhe aap acche lagte hain, main sab kuch karne ke liye tayaar hoon."
(You’ve called me a child for the third time now. I won’t talk to you again. I’m not a child; I can handle everything. I like you, and I’m ready to do anything.)”
Hearing her words left him stunned. It took a moment for his mind to process what she had just said.
She could do anything for him. She liked him...
He grabbed her arms, quickly making her lie straight, hovering over her in an instant. Her cries ceased, replaced by wide eyes staring at his tanned chest and visible abs. Her hand instinctively reached for his chest.
For a brief moment, he closed his eyes, savoring the warmth of her small palm against him. Gripping both her wrists with his left hand, he pinned them above her head.
Her ocean-blue eyes locked onto his, and he felt as if he were drowning in there, with only her capable of saving him.
He eased the grip of her hands slightly, the tinkling of her bangles resonating in the air. With just a little more pressure, her bangles would broke and press against Raza's hands, and after a moment, the sound of Halima's anklet echoed through the room every time she tried to pull her feet away from between his as she felt him rubbing his toe on her foot.
“Meri shiddat nahi seh paaogi tum, Halima. Mujhe uksana band karo aur tumhare imtehaan par zyada dhyaan do.” He spoke, concealing his emotions.
(You won’t be able to handle my intensity, Halima. Stop provoking me and focus more on your studies.)
She swallowed hard and replied, “Mujhe aap par yakeen nahi hai. Aap meri jagah kisi aur ko de dein toh?"
(I don’t trust you. What if you give someone else my place?)
He looked at her, astonished. Did she even comprehend what she was saying? His grip on her wrists tightened.
“Kon ye pattiya tumhe padha raha hai, Halima?," He seized her chin, leaning in closer.
(Who is teaching you this nonsense, Halima?)”
“Chahti kya ho tum? Main do baar behka toh rok nahi paaunga. Behtar yahi hai ki tum ye masoom si shakal ke saath ye masoom ki akal na istemal karo.",he thought she would finally relent, but instead, she continued.
(What do you want? If I lose control again, it’ll be hard to stop myself. It’s better that you don’t use that innocent face to your advantage with your innocent mind .)”
“Mujhe haq chahiye…", she said, contemplating something she had heard before but couldn’t quite remember.
(I want the right...)
For a moment, Raza stared into her eyes,his eyes red woth anger and then said.
"Okay, take off your clothes then...."
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