The rains had ceased.Our hunger too had ceased .Mushahid’s mother ,hereafter ,begum Kamarunnissa ,had once again retired to her room for a siesta .The door to her room was closed .Mushahid had decided to give up his room fro me .So ,I did not have a room in his heart for sure yet ,but I had his room . I did not retire .I wanted to be around Mushahid .I had begun to heal from the wound that was Pratap. During these hours in Pakistan ,I had only been hurt by the memory of that screaming face thrice .I had swept the pain to tha obscure layers at the back of my mind .  

I had set out to earn money when I had taken up a job that had lead to my being stranded here ,to free myself from the economical ,psychological and emotional bondage that was Pratap .My maid servant in India and I were like a colonel and his junior in the army .She was a subaltern,I was an economically better off subaltern.She used to  get beaten up physically .I was the worse in suffering .The wounds infllicted were mental .I had no proof to show except go mad .This was my first trip out of India .I had always dreamt of taking my little son and going away from the hell that had been Pratap’s house ,his presence ,his parents since my marriage. I beleived God to send me a saviour as he had sent  the world whenever it had gone too bad for human beings to live in .

My first  opportunity at travel ended up this way .All that happens ,my mum would say ,is for the good .I thought of my little Inquilab .”Mama”,his llittle voice echoed in my heart .Tears welled up in my eyes .I had always dreamt of going shopping with him,movies ,picnics ,but Pratap was always busy with his office;his colleagues made him more happy than his family.He would come back home to scream or taunt .I had wanted to be away from a long time .

Mushahid was watching me and I was oblivious to  the tears rolling down my cheeks .He walked up to me and sat on the arm chair beside the settee .I was startled.A pale hand with a white handkerchief startled me out of my lugubrios thoughts. I sniffled ,took the handkerchief and wiped my eyes which were in mosoon now .” Can I ask what’s the matter ,”he asked ,hesitating at each word .

“I was thinking about my son ,my eight year old Inquilab” ,said I breaking into sobs now . Mushahid did not speak for some time .His voice broke when he did and he pretended to clear it .” Who is there to take care of your son “,he asked .

” My mom,”I said . Only for this month .My father does not like staying with us .”

I wiped my tears ,sniffled and remembered I was talking to a stranger who attracted me ,but was yet a stranger .

” Your in-laws do no………………….,”the question trailed away when he saw me wince .

 I did not want to discuss me any more .” Married ?”,I asked . “Was ,divorced now”,he replied playing with his thick henna dyed moustache .