As Long As I Live

To Know How It Feels

I dedicate each chapter to many different people for their support and encouragement, but if I had to dedicate this ENTIRE BOOK to someone it would be my dearest and awesomest punjabi kudi - sj!!

To you my sj!

Enjoy!

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"So this is where we begin or end Mayra. Remove Mr Hassan and your family from your mind and answer me. Do you want to do this?"

"Yes."

Gaurav leaned back in his chair and regarded the quiet - and frankly scared - woman before him. He knew her readiness to open up to him now had come from a sudden spurt of long suppressed confidence and yet his experience in this profession had taught him that such confidence was impressive when it sprung, but was pitiably short-lived.

"So Mayra, how old are you?"

"Twenty-four."

"So you were twenty-two when you were married?"

"Almost twenty-two, the wedding was thirteen days before my birthday."

"Did you do something special for that birthday? It was after all your first birthday after marriage."

Mayra froze. She was instantly bombarded with the memories of that day. The way Zara had dragged her into the living room proclaiming that it was her birthday, the way her father-in-law had wished her and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, the way Faiza had looked at her with disgust and anger and the moment when Aamir had come back home. He grabbed her arm roughly and hauled her to their room. His words still pierced her heart.

You ugly bitch! How dare you! Stay away from my family! You worthless whore, I don't want to see your face! You're so ugly, so filthy! Just get out of my life!

Slap.

Mayra jerked at the memory and instinctively her hand rose to her cheek. The cheek that had remained bruised for a week after that powerful slap that had sent her flying to the floor. Aamir was a powerful man and he never realized how much force he used when he was beating her.

Mayra, on the other hand, was a light skinned delicate girl. Her skin always bruised easily and the purple blotches remained for days before healing. With Aamir they never had a chance to be fully gone because he always have her new ones before the old had healed.

Gaurav noticed her reactions and drew the conclusion that the mention of that particular day had triggered some really bad memories. It was a good thing, he thought. That way it would be easier for to vent it all out, even though it would be torturous for her to relive it all.

He thought about the direction in which he wanted to conduct this session. "Okay, never mind that. Let's talk about something else. What are your hobbies?"

Mayra, bringing her mind to the present, sighed, "I don't have any."

"Why not?"

Mayra didn't know how to answer that question. "I just.. I don't know, I just don't seem to enjoy anything anymore."

"I see," Gaurav nodded. "Has it always been the case that you found a lack of a hobby in you, or did that develop post your marriage to Mr Hassan?"

Mayra looked away, utterly ashamed. How could she say it? How could she tell the man what her marriage truly was like? How many more people were going to be out there in the world who would know the minute details of her life and know how big a failure she was? How many people would find themselves with the knowledge that she was an utter disaster when it came to being a wife? A disaster of a daughter? Of everything?