She observed some noise at the door surely he was her husband. As it was time of his daily return time. After few minutes her Husband enters in the home but today he was there for other reasons. His attitude was totally different and strange; there was weirdness in his eyes for her. It was more shocking for her as she was trying to understand the mystery. The night becomes darker for her after seeing the eyes of her husband named Salman. It was a common behavior of a common lower class women as her society always keeps her frightened and stressed. Salman was looking angry and weird. He has been a man of his ego. He had dark complexions with tall height, a form of a pure desi man. She has been living with her husband Salman since she married him. Four years ago, she was told by her parents that her marriage is fixed with Salman. To meet or see the husband was against the tradition in her family. She was just 14 years old at that time. She met her husband on the night of marriage but due to shyness and tradition she observed him with attention after 3 days of marriage. She was not much mature to spend a married life. She lost her right to get education on the day of her marriage.
Her name was shehla, she was from a village of north Punjab but after marriage she moved with her husband to a village of south Punjab. She passed middle from a school of her village but her husband was pure illiterate. When she looked at her husband; he was tall with black hairs, dark color, stylish moustache and strong physique. He was a man of traditional rigid thought which are difficult to modify. On the opposite side, she was educated with fair complexion. She was a house wife; her life was limited to the house of Salman and his family. After nine months of her marriage she had born a baby boy.
She was thinking to ask him the reason of his tension. Before she asked something he slapped her. She started trembling with fear. It was the first time he slapped her. It was a point which made him different from traditional illiterate men. The reason of her fear was the upcoming results as now he was not the normal Salman; her heart beat raised a thousand times. She stared thinking that what worse mistake she had made. Her Husband started violence by grabbing her hairs tightly in his hands and said, you bitch, you cheat. I got HIV positive and he executed another slap. It was more powerful and destructive. She was shocked by the situation. This time blood started flowing from her nose and started flowing by find place on her face but she was not feeling pain as something broke inside her. Inner destruction is more hazard than outer wounds. Before she says something he grabbed her from hairs and pushes her towards the main gate while beating her. Wordy abuse is also common in such situations, you cheat, character less, cheap women with whom you slept to get this dirty disease. She made effort to stop this accuse but stopped by the tool of domestic violence. She was aware of her husband relations with other women but she didn’t try to realize him as speaking against husband was not a part of traditions. She was thrown out of house in the night for a sin she had never committed. She asked for her little son and received more slaps. He said her, our son is now only my son, you have no relations with him; never ever dare to see him. She sat on a foot path as she lost the power to move on her feet’s. Her eyes were wet and dark. She was shivering with fear. One hour ago she was blossoming in loves of her family. In few minutes her life changed into hell. Few hours ago she was a happy housewife, living in her small world. But suddenly every think around her become intense and dark. She became the victim of her
fate. She was not empowered to fight for her rights, for her son. After weeping for hours she stuck her head with a wall and went into sleep.
It was not a single story. Girls and women are facing discrimination, domestic violence, child marriages and many other problems around the world. All we need is to join hands to take stand for girls and females.
