The sun was getting ready to give in to the impeding darkness; similarly my uncle was starting to give in to my request of riding his motorbike. I had been making this request since I had arrived in the village, a few hours ago; however he was hesitant about what the others would think of him if he allowed me to do so. The mere thought of letting me out of the boundary of my house with a helmet instead of a chador, on a motor bike, all on my own, instead of within a car, with so many chaperones, brought scary thoughts within my uncle’s head. I was in rural Pakistan, and freedom was not an option.

Chachu, as I called him, told me to wait for him outside of the furthest gate from the front entrance of the house. He did not want anyone to see that he had allowed me to ride a motorbike in our conservative village.

As I completed my fourth prayer of the day, I ran inside my room to get dressed for my escapade. I chose an outfit that would not make me the center of attention of the customers of the corner tea shop, as I rode freely by them. These people had a tendency to stare, and then to go home to their wives and update them about the daughters of the so called tribal leaders. We were always the talk of the town no matter what we did, so I had finally given up on portraying myself as a dutiful daughter and a role model for good conduct. I had decided to live by my own rules.

I ran across the large courtyard, past the stables and finally reached the gate that, for tonight, will allow me to live my life. Chachu was standing on the other side, waiting impatiently to get this over with. When he saw me he threw the keys towards me, and gestured towards the motorbike. I knew my chachu well, and he would never let me drive from here, in case any one sees. I was wrong. As I stood their looking at the keys in my hand, he approached me and said: “You have half an hour, go be free.”

In this sort of tribal setting it would be expected that I hand back the keys and ask for my uncle to let me ride behind him as he drove, but such a thought never crossed my mind. I firmly held the keys in my hand and walked up to the shining Yamaha motorbike. It was beautiful, and the world while I was on top of it seemed even more beautiful.