Mardiya Sultana
After a busy day when I stretched myself to relax a knock on my office door made me realise that more people in line. A lady entered. An artificial smile yet confused, her baggy clothes covered her fat body, dark circles around her eyes, dark brown patches around her chin and visible grey hair. I thought she was one of the visitors from a Pathan family. Her small eyes with no shine of life in them and small with anguish made me silent. I remained on my chair once she came closer and told me she’s Medina Khan while kissing my hand. For a moment I couldn’t speak! In the flashback of memories I recalled a little girl. Brilliant in her studies, always smiling, often her teachers used to complain that she’s laughing for no reason in the class. Sometimes angry and sometimes with a bigger smile I used to enter her class. To have a word with the mischievous Medina. Her famous way to seek forgiveness was to look at the desk and bend her small neck to apologise. The day of our annual prize giving ceremony Medina Khan scored top position in her 5th class. In her speech in fluent English she admitted she’ll be a doctor in future. I remember standing and clapping for her. Until next week, when I’ve come to know from her mother that she’s going to get married. The little girl with a big dream, playing with dolls and eating chocolates carefree in our house. Does she know? I asked her mother. “In our tribe girls are not asked about their desire†her mother replied. “It’ll be her father’s and Grandfather’s decision with the consent of the tribe.” I felt a cold swirl in my backbone. When girls of Marina Khan’s age would be planning their college years, when they’ll be planning for new video games and current fashions Medina Khan without a desire will be following rules of her husband. Not just husband but his parents and several siblings. She’ll no longer be a student, no longer a charming girl, no longer the smiling face. Because, she’ll be a wife of someone who she doesn’t even know. I even felt sorry for her future husband as well. As I’ve come to know that he hasn’t seen his future wife. May be, he sympathies our girl. The same girl now turned into a woman, in her teenage! Her fake smile had much louder moans with anguish. She starts talking. I was listening. Every word of her made me more burdened with emotions. I didn’t want to cry. I was the shoulder she wanted to cry on. It’s not the same voice even. She began her story of life in detail. When she stated that her husband had beaten her on the first day of her marriage. Saying he wanted to marry someone else. He loved from his childhood. Tired from a very long journey and accepting the harsh words from her husband, this is how she started her new life. Looking after her 8 siblings and in laws still her husband start torturing her every day. Physically and mentally both. Every night, when it was supposed to be their time her husband was calling his girlfriend. In two years, she became mother of a girl, who passed away. “My tears made my husband very pleased”, Said Medina Khan. “He said when you cry I feel pleasure. I’ll make you cry more.” Listening this, my tears came on my cheeks but she kept on telling more. “And now I made him marry with his girlfriend”, said Medina. “I have no feelings for them.” She continued. Now, I’m happy that he’s happy and I’m working for him. I cook, clean from dawn till dusk. There are many other girls of my age, suffering from the same. Medina told me. For me, her anguish was greater than mountains but she was telling me like she actually has no feelings. From that colourful, jolly, juvenile Medina Khan. She was a talking statue. Because, she’s a woman. She has no rights. Her voice could charge her for even death sentence. Her actions of her rights could harm her modesty. We are born in a free country; we are born under the protection of Islam. Where, in Quran Kareem verses are giving women rights, our beloved Prophet Muhammad PBUH even in last sermon spoke about women. The caliphs also did enough for the welfare of females. I wish if girls like Medina and many other unnamed girls were born in the era of our beloved Prophet PBUH. So they’d have asked Prophet PBUH for the rights of living. So, without a day delay her life was at ease. Collectively, it’s on our shoulders to protect young victims. Who are being slaughtered by their own parents and tribes. For the sake of sum. Sometimes, just to keep their names ranked. Mostly, they call it an “honour “. Where families often sacrifice their daughters.
But, why it’s always the daughters? Until when girls like Medina Khan would suffer in living hell. Where they have not a choice to even think as an individual. It’s time to think.
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