. . . . . . Reality . . . . . .
I stared at the sunset scene through my water-logged eyes. The breeze was calm and soothing. It brushed my cheeks, diverting the path of my salty tears. Yet the dynamic platform did not make much of a difference to me. I knew for a fact that the mistake I had committed was unforgivable.
Every moment seemed to be a severe punishment to me. The guilt was penetrating me so much that nothing seemed to pacify me. I kept on making the silliest mistakes like breaking the vase in the cupboard, putting an egg in the pan to boil without water. I am the only one to be blamed. I still remember the last words Mother spoke to me before I was taking the "big step". Her voice was strict, yet a plea was there in her words: "You are wrong here at this point. I wouldn't stop you neither support you. All I can say is the path you are taking now is more like the petals of a torn flower. The path wears away soon, and so I know you will come back. But be careful that you are not too late to take a turn back." At the doorsteps of my house, the words set a gentle breeze in motion that went past my ears. All I wanted was to leave my house.
And so my impulsiveness took over my senses, compelling me to break all ties with my family and walk out on them. I knew that the formulation of a story would take place in the society we lived in. But I also knew that my parents would get used to the critical air of ruthless society.
I loved them. But maybe it was the strong force of my adolescence that pulled me towards doing the thing for which I had abandoned my family. I married. Not that I married at such a wrong age but that I had bonded myself and my life to a person whom I knew for a month.
But none of these played in my mind when I left the house. The consequences were bound to take place in a course of time. The first thing that I got to know about Farhaz was his involvement in drug peddling. That did shock me but that was just the start. The second thing I got to know was about his being strongly addicted to the obvious source of death. But at that time everything seemed perfect to me. His notoriety did not help me change my decision of dedicating the entire me, made by God for me, to him. Maybe it was a product of my strong stubbornness and ego.
So we decided to live at his friend's farmhouse. Sahil's farmhouse was more like a heaven to me. It was more like a romantic movie set. A beautiful antiquated house which had liveliness seeping all through every corner, a pond with ducklings all over celebrating their moments of joy.
Although everything seemed like a precious gift at first, the bitterness of reality had to come out. Cruel fate revealed itself once again. I had never imagined, even in my worst nightmare, the harbinger of the incident that took place that night.
It all started as I was washing the utensils after one of his friends had left the house following dinner with us. I hummed a sweet tune, my favourite song, when I heard a hideous noise. I could tell that a ceramic item had been broken. As I stepped on the doorstep of the room which we used as our bedroom, my heart skipped a beat. I could hardly believe my sight. The plywood floor seemed designed beautifully with all the show-pieces apart. The background was hideously disturbing with my husband desperately searching something.
At the back of my mind, I knew the reasons behind Farhaz's desperation. Each night I planned to do it, but nothing seemed to give me enough courage. But one night I decided. Maybe the decision was needed for my attempt to save Farhaz but I hardly knew that I would put my life at stake. Before I could open my mouth, my fear proved true. His direct interrogation scared me. I nervously spoke out that I didn't have a hand in removing his yaba pills.
I could tell, seeing his dark red eyes, that my words didn't convince him. But as soon as I started trying to caress him like a child , the beastly thing took place. The thing that I couldn't even dare to imagine took place. Within a fragment of a second he threw me to the door. Maybe I was numb at first due to the sudden shock but then my eyes tried to find the source of my pain, before I found my forehead covered with a red dense fluid. Blood was dripping helplessly.
There he was again, this time strangling the life out of me. His blood-drenched lips formed words that spoke out his demand for the deadly pills. My head wasn't working anymore. All I could notice was the madness taking over his humanity. I screamed my heart out.
The next thing that I remember is that I ran and ran. The concrete highway turned into a desert. Everything seemed endless. I became tired and exhausted. All I needed was sleep or maybe an analgesic. I opened my swollen eyes with much trouble to find myself in a room filled with the aroma of medicine and treatment. I was in a hospital, I could tell from the look of the mundane stands in front of me. I closed my eyes, giving my mind over to rewind the repugnant moment I had just passed. But no, maybe it was too much of a shock for me.
That very moment I realized that there is always a way out if there is an entrance. My mother's last word drummed in my ears and so I knew my way now. My conscience spoke out at last, ordering me to ask for forgiveness from the people I had hurt most, the reason for my being.
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