LAGAN IN ENGLISH ( PART 8) MARRIAGE AND COMPULSION

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Falaki trembled from head to toe.
She didn't know what it was in his tone, but outwardly she sat there as if nothing affected her. He too continued smoking his pipe with pride.

A little while later, he stood up.
"I'm getting late, and I have to attend a dinner tonight."

Sitting there, Falaki's head began to spin.

It was the third night of her marriage, and the third terrifying incident.
She felt like crying.

She didn’t know why, but now even the smallest things made her cry.
She didn’t try to hide her drying tears.

Afaq was pacing in the room. He bent slightly and said—
“Don’t use an old weapon of a woman. I know tears very well. They are a woman’s last move. Don’t turn this into a drama. I’ll go say goodbye to Daddy and Mummy.”

He walked out.

"What should I do… O God, what should I do?"

Falaki broke into sobs.
"Why have I become so helpless in front of this man? I was a free bird, soaring in this vast sky from one end to another. Why did I choose to be caged, when I believed that there was no prison or chain for me?

Just two words of Nikah—‘I accept’—can make a woman so helpless, and a man becomes such a supreme authority that he doesn’t even value her desires or wishes.

If this is what marriage is, then shame on it... I used to curse it before, yet I wore this curse like a garland. Now this garland is turning into a noose... and I want to break free from it... Otherwise...?"

Shouldn't he be afraid...?

When Afaq stepped out, Daddy was right in front. He was walking toward him, and Mommy was with him.

"Hmm... Ready, son?" Mommy asked lovingly.
"Yes. Please, would you both sit down? I want to discuss something important."
"Of course, go ahead."

As soon as Mommy sat, Daddy joined her.

"Mommy, saying anything to a wise and intelligent woman like you is like lighting a candle before the sun. You've seen so much in life. Still, since you're a mother, I wish to share something."

"Hurry up and say it!" Mommy laughed. "I won’t mind anything you say. You are dearer to me than Falaki."

"Thank you, Mommy." Afaq’s face became even more serious.
"Mommy, you know Falaki is your only child, and you’ve poured all your love into her. To her, all other desires feel small compared to your affection. I’m sure you understand what I mean...

She’s a bit stubborn and strong-willed too, but still I like her. Her heart isn’t settling in my house yet. She wants to keep coming back here. I don’t really object, and you are like my own parents. But if she keeps coming here like this, my home will never truly be built. That big house will remain empty. And you know, my mother is in America, and I married only to build a home."

"Yes, yes, I understand," Mommy said. "I’ll explain it to her."

"No!" Afaq said quickly.
"Please don’t make that mistake of trying to explain. Just do me a favor and keep a little distance from her... I mean, lessen the affection a bit, or act a bit cold so she realizes she belongs to a new home now."

Mommy didn’t respond. Afaq quickly added—
"Just for a few days, Mommy. I’m not talking about months. After that, her heart will settle there, and you’ll also be at peace."

"Afaq means we should stop pampering Falaki so much... and lessen our affection a little so she starts feeling her own responsibilities," Daddy intervened for the first time.

"Mommy, please..." Afaq stood up.

"I understand," Mommy said sadly. "Alright."

Mommy and Daddy also stood up.
Afaq stepped forward, held Mommy’s hands, and said with deep emotion—
"Mommy, I’m truly grateful to you and always will be. Without your support, my married life could never be happy. And I swear on your head, I will make Falaki an ideal woman."

Mommy smiled.
She kissed Afaq’s hand and said—
"I trust you, because you yourself are an ideal man."

"Thank you, Mommy."
Afaq smiled and thanked her, then left with Daddy.

Outside, they stood near the turn and talked in low voices for fifteen to twenty minutes.
Mommy went to the dressing room to fix her makeup.
Falaki went to the bathroom.

She washed her face, fixed her appearance, and then stood in front of the full-length mirror...

She began touching up her makeup.

When Afaq honked from the car, Mommy came to the door and said—
“Falaki, darling, come out quickly. Afaq is waiting in the car, and I’m also getting late for a club party.”

Saying this, Mommy left the doorway.

A servant came and took her luggage.
Falaki picked up her purse lifelessly and walked out.
Afaq was already seated in the car. Daddy stood beside it, smiling. Mommy stood on the other side, holding the car door open.

It seemed like everyone just wanted her to get into the car and leave quickly.

Suddenly, she felt angry.
Mommy stepped forward and kissed her forehead.
Suppressing her anger, she got into the car.

Daddy waved. Mommy gave her a prayer.
She didn’t look at anyone.

Her eyes brimmed with tears, which she didn’t want to shed.
The car drove away.

Neither Mommy hugged her to her chest.
Nor did Daddy gently caress her head.

"Wow! How strange my Mommy and Daddy are..."

Well, Daddy had always been timid anyway...

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"What kind of mother is she…?
Can’t she see that her daughter’s heart is crying?
What kind of mother is she, who can’t recognize that there’s sadness—not joy—on her daughter’s face?
What kind of mother is she, who can’t even hear the desperate heartbeat of her daughter’s aching heart…?"

"Mummy, why did you even give birth to me, when your clubs and parties mattered more to you than I ever did?"

As soon as Mummy and Daddy disappeared from view, all her tears came pouring out—like dewdrops dripping from rose petals after a rainstorm.

Afaq was watching her from the corner of his eye.

She didn’t even try to stop her tears.
What was the point in hiding them now?
At least the pain and anger in her heart could spill out.

Now and then, she wiped her face with a handkerchief.

The car moved through markets and roads.

Afaq sat beside her—silent and stern—like Falak was some criminal being driven to her death sentence.

Suddenly, a storm of hatred rose in her heart for Afaq—
A hatred so intense it brought along smoldering intentions and venomous winds...

She used to love Afaq so much!

Why did she mistake his hatred for love?

Was Afaq even worthy of love? Absolutely not.

Every fiber of her being screamed—
"No, no…!"

"Spit on this man’s face.
His appearance and his inner self are completely different.
His words and actions contradict each other.
He is a deceitful man.
His heart is dark.
His gaze is full of prejudice.
He is plagued by an inferiority complex."

"Ah…
Why did I ever love him?
That moment was cursed—the one when I thought I loved him.
Can any sensible, beautiful girl ever love such a man?"

Absolutely not!

"Then how did I make such a mistake?"

"Was I inexperienced?
Or just foolish?"

"No—it wasn’t either of those.
Maybe fate was punishing me for some pride I had."

"Fine.
I deserved the consequences of my haste—and I got them.
Now I will make up for my impulsiveness and emotional recklessness."

"I can’t tolerate this nonsense much longer.
I’ll have to make a decision soon."

Yes, Nikah was a binding force, one that allowed him to manipulate her like a puppet...

But how?

Still, she promised herself—a time will come when I’ll be the one controlling him.

She would ask herself—"But how will this happen?"

She wanted to express her hatred with intensity.
She wanted to show Afaq that he held no value in her eyes.
She wanted to break away from him and make him realize he wasn’t worthy of being accepted by Falak.

She wanted to smack her hatred onto his face like a hard slap.

But how?

Every time anger rose within her, her mind would stop working.

Still, she had countless friends in the city.
Numerous admirers.
Close girlfriends.
Surely, she could take help from someone.

She thought about all the boys who had once loved her deeply and even wanted to marry her.

A few of them were from very rich families and were willing to accept her every condition. But she only maintained friendships with them—
Hanging out,
Going on outings,
Watching movies.

Marriage always seemed like a pointless thing to her.

And then she remembered Bobby.
He truly loved her.

Whatever she said, he’d fulfill it immediately—as if it was his religious duty.

His real name was Mahboob Ahmed, but everyone called him "Bobby".

He was the only son of wealthy parents.

Twice his father had sent him to America, but he would return within six months and fall at Falak’s feet, crying.

He’d say—
"Falak, I couldn’t live in heaven without you!"

And she would laugh loudly.

He was incredibly handsome, tall, and charming.
But Falak never saw him as husband material.

She used to say—
"I’ll stay friends with you,
I’ll even love you,
But I’ll never marry you."

And he would cry his heart out while their whole gang made fun of him.

Everyone started calling him Majnu.

Once, Falak joked—
"Cut the vein in your neck and write my name with your blood!"

And the poor fool actually cut his neck with a blade!

Thankfully, the restaurant they were in was close to a doctor’s clinic.

Everyone rushed him there—otherwise, with the amount of blood he lost, he might not have survived.

When Falak found out, instead of feeling guilty, she scolded him—
"Are you trying to ruin my reputation?"

Her friends handled the matter and kept it quiet.

Many advised her to marry Bobby.

But she always felt disgusted by such a weak-hearted lover.

And now, sitting in that car, she was thinking of all this...

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"Bobby was truly a good boy. If only she hadn’t rejected him."

She felt as if someone had cursed her, just because Bobby hadn’t attended her wedding. She had heard that he had been on a hunger strike for three days. He had grown a beard and cried while drinking whiskey. Whenever anyone mentioned Bobby, she would scold them.

Now she missed Bobby terribly.
Indeed, breaking someone's heart is a terrible thing—especially someone as innocent and sweet as Bobby.
If only she could meet Bobby and ask for his forgiveness.
If only she could accept him.
If only she could get rid of Afaq.

Sitting there, she made a firm decision in her heart—she would divorce Afaq and marry Bobby.

Now no one seemed better than Bobby. Bobby, who used to cry with his head on her beautiful feet. Who would kiss her hand. Who kept one of her photos in his inner pocket and another in his wallet. Who never watched a film without her. Who always called her "My love."

And in comparison, what was Afaq?

A rough and harsh man?
A man full of pride over his looks and wealth?
He thought he was smarter than everyone else. He didn't value anyone else's ego or self-worth.

A despicable man…

She cursed him silently in her heart, trembling with rage.

"If I don’t get divorced, then my name isn’t Falakhi!"

It was possible Afaq wouldn’t agree to a divorce.

But how could he not? Once she knocked on the court’s door, he would have to.

Maybe her parents would try to stop her.

But why should they? She would tell them everything—each and every incident, from the wedding night until now. And no woman could stay the wife of a man who… who… yes, who couldn’t even treat her like a wife. A wife is a wife, right? She deserves her rights.

She didn’t know much about Shariah or Islam, but she had read English novels. Still, she knew that a wife had the right to claim her own rights—and on that basis, she could demand separation.

Thinking that gave her a sense of relief.

And with that thought, she also decided she would call Bobby in the morning and tell him that soon, she would be his. In fact, she would leave this house and go directly to Bobby. Once gone, no one could bring her back. That’s exactly what she must do.

That would be the true revenge against this man.

Thinking all this, her tears naturally stopped. The tension on her face faded.

As she took a long breath of relief, her senses returned.
She looked around. The car was entering Afaq’s house—“Raaz Daan.” The gatekeeper was opening the gate.

After opening it, the gatekeeper raised his hand in salute. The car came to a halt in the porch.

“It seems you’ve finally arrived at some sensible decision?” Afaq said as he stopped the car.

She hadn’t even replied when Afaq continued—

“It’s easy to form a bond between husband and wife, but breaking it is very difficult. That’s why I believe you should focus on making it work. Don’t let people make a spectacle out of you.”

“Why don’t you just say that you don’t want to become a spectacle?” Falakhi responded with hatred and anger.

By now the gatekeeper had approached. He opened the car door for her.
Falaki and Afaq stepped out of the vehicle together.

Afaq stepped forward and opened the drawing room door.
Just as they were entering, another car horn sounded.
Turning back, they saw one of Afaq’s close friends arriving with his family.

“Ah, you’ve come!” Afaq spread his arms in welcome.

“Where have you been all this time?”

“Just returned from Europe yesterday. Heard you got married, so I thought...”

“...I'd come to congratulate you, because I’m going to the Gulf next week. And how are you, sister-in-law?”

Afaq cheerfully responded to his friend’s wife—

“Thanks to God, everything’s fine. You tell me—how are things on your end? Congratulations on the wedding! Won’t you introduce us to bhabhi (sister-in-law)?”

“Have a seat first. This is my bride. Introduce yourself—can’t you see!”

Everyone laughed heartily.

“She’s really beautiful. Where did you find her?” the friend joked while sitting.

“Well, she just came on her own. Her own fate brought her to me. You know how simple and innocent I am!”

Everyone burst into laughter again.
Falaki forced a fake smile. She knew this wretched man knew how to sting with his words and play showbiz charm expertly.

“Wonky, come on, serve tea! They’re your guests—they’ve come to your house. Don’t be invisible!”

Afaq said this with such affection, as if there was not an ounce of bitterness in his tongue.

Falaki got up, placed the tea order, and returned to her seat. The guest lady began chatting with her. Naturally, she had to show some pretense of joy.
When the tea arrived, she stood up and began serving everyone.
When she handed Afaq his cup, he said with a wide grin—

“I only drink sweetness from your lips. I hope you didn’t add sugar.”

Falaki shook her head.

“Good girl! That’s the sign of a proper wife,” Afaq commented.

“You haven’t changed one bit. Still the same as you were two years ago.”

“Why should I change?” Afaq replied. “Was my marriage forced? Brother, this was a love marriage. And after marriage, it’s the girls who have to change. Those who don’t understand this are taught by the world.”

“Yes, that’s true,” his friend nodded in agreement.

Then the conversation turned to the ups and downs of married life.

Falaki sat indifferently. She had no interest in the topic.
To her, Afaq’s every action seemed fake.
Inside, he was wicked, ill-mannered, and sick, but he wrapped himself up to appear polished and charming.
She even felt disgusted by his guests now. She had begun to fear such gatherings.

She just wanted them to leave immediately.

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