دن رات میری سوچوں پہ مسلسل ہے تیرا عکس
تیرا ہلکا سا تصور میرے چہرے کو کھلا دیتا ہے۔
•°•°•°•°•°•°•
The silence enveloped the room, while I sat on my bed. My hands, once familiar and comforting, now felt foreign and distant. With a blank expression, I stared at them, the lines and creases mapping out a journey I had never chosen.
Was this how life was supposed to be? A fixed path laid out before me, where the decisions were made by others, and I merely followed along like a puppet on strings? The thought terrified me, like a persistent ache that refused to be ignored.
Forced to marry someone I didn't love, someone who wasn't the one I had envisioned sharing my life with. The weight of that realization settled heavily on my shoulders, a burden too heavy to bear. Was this my fate, to sacrifice my happiness for the sake of my parents?
As I grappled with these thoughts, the room seemed to close in around me, suffocating in its stillness. And amidst the deafening silence, I couldn't help but wonder. Is this all there is to life? A series of compromises and sacrifices, where the dreams you once held dear slip through your fingers like grains of sand?
"Everyone is ready." The door was slightly opened by her mother, Yasmin's heart sank as her mother's words echoed in the room. The weight of expectation and ritual bore down on her, threatening to crush her spirit beneath its oppressive force. With a heavy sigh, she straightened her posture, trying to muster the strength to carry the burden placed upon her.
Her mother came to her and hugged her while whispering.
"We had to Yasmi, or else everyone would think that there was something wrong with you that the groom backed off, on the day of the wedding."
Nodding silently, Yasmin forced a small, strained smile, masking the turmoil raging within her. She knew that at this moment, she had no choice but to comply, to submit to the will of her family and society. Yet, beneath the facade of submission, a flicker of resistance burned in her eyes, a silent protest against the injustice of her restricted fate
Slowly approaching the door, Yasmin paused, her gaze lingering on her room one last time. Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision as she silently said goodbye to her room. With a heavy heart, she bowed her head, a silent plea for strength, before finally mustering the courage to follow her mother out.
Outside, her family gathered around her, their voices a symphony of reassurance and well-wishes, but amidst the sea of comforting words, Yasmin remained silent, her thoughts a mess, full of fear and uncertainty. She listened, but the sweetness of their words failed to reach her, overshadowed by the looming shade of a future she never chose.
She takes a silent breath in and blinks her eyes before standing beside his figure. She dared not to spare a glance his way and stand in front of her Baba. Her father Malik Osama Shah gave her a small smile before placing his lips over her forehead, a tender farewell and a silent promise to always be there for her, even as she embarked on this new chapter of her life.
"May Allah bless you with a good future, take care my child." Malik Osama Shah's words echoed in Yasmin's mind as they parted ways, leaving her heart heavy with emotion.
As Yasmin's mother, Madiha, stepped forward to embrace her, Yasmin's lips found solace between her teeth, a nervous habit betraying her inner restlessness. With gentle guidance, her mother ushered her into the waiting car, marking the end of the Ruksati ritual.
