Empowered

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Empower: /ɪmˈpaʊə,ɛmˈpaʊə/

verb

give (someone) the authority or power to do something.

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Hamdan

"It didn't see climatic enough." I muttered. "I feel like she's still going to do something."

"She has been stripped off her powers, of all her authority. Whatever plan she had in place is void now because she has been dethroned." Papa patted my shoulder. "But don't worry, we will still take precautions, okay?" 

"I hate this. I wanted her to come to the right path." Seerat Appi spoke softly.

"We tried, Appi. She just didn't want to." I shrugged. I glanced at my watch. "I'm going to go now. I have to take Nayab to the doctor."

We were going to finally confirm our baby's gender today, and although Mama had told me what it was, her word wasn't exactly reliable.

"Take care of her." Hadiqa Aunty told me. "Make sure she remains happy and relaxed nowadays. In Sha Allah, the stressful time in our lives is gone. I pray for nothing but happiness and good health for all of us now. Ameen."

"Ameen." I repeated.

And yet, it was hard to believe that we were all finally going to live peaceful lives.

*

Samreen

I was taken to a solitary cell as I was such a high-profile political figure. With my dupatta draped around me, and covering my head, I tried to hide myself as much as possible.

"When a human starts to consider himself or herself as 'God', the end isn't too far." Hamdan had said to me. "And when Allah sees that the zulm has crossed all limits, then no human punishment or no legal punishment can even begin to compare to His wrath. Dado has raised us while reminding us of that repeatedly, considering that we were born in a family of politics."

I was this close to reaching my goal. I was going to be Prime Minister, and now it had all gone up in flames.

A sob escaped my dry lips as I realised that I had finally reached the concluding chapter of my career. I had dreamt that my career would end with my retirement in a beautiful villa abroad, after running successfully as a Prime Minister.

"I kept caring about you even after the breakdown of our relationship." Shabeer had told me before the police had led me away. "I genuinely wanted you to change for the best because you're the mother of my children. I wanted you to realise that genuine happiness lies with family, not power. And, believe it or not, Samreen, this hurts me more than you'll ever realise."

"Lying b*****d!" I shouted out. "The hell this hurts you! I bet you're celebrating with your stupid second wife, having all my children around you!" My voice rang out in the cell, and a policewoman peeked into my cell through the bars, eyebrow raised.

My life was over. Everything I'd worked for was gone. 

This is your own fault. My inner voice, also known as my conscience, spoke up in a soft whisper. You wrote your own destruction. Those who thing they are invincible lead to their own downfall.

No. I shook my head. Absolutely not. 

My downfall was planned by my children and ex-husband.

I lay down on the single bed, shivering slightly. It was almost cold in this windowless cell. I wished this was a nightmare. I wished that I suddenly woke up to my reality.

"When a human starts to consider himself or herself as 'God'..."

"I genuinely wanted you to change for the best..." 

"And when Allah sees that the zulm has crossed all limits, then no human punishment or no legal punishment can even begin to compare to His wrath."

"And, believe it or not, Samreen, this hurts me more than you'll ever realise."

"NO!!!!" I screamed out, tears escaping my eyes rapidly.

I'd lost.

I'd lost everything.

Humans are never really empowered. It is all a façade. The real power lies with Allah. And the power that we think that we have is actually just a test from Him. If we are given positions as rulers, our test is to see whether we use our authority to take care of the population, or we take advantage of it to fill our own pockets. How many of us politicians and so-called leaders actually say that they passed this test with flying colours?

Love is a powerful emotion, a sign of humanity placed in the hearts of humans. But the love for power is that kind of love that can almost be defined as a sin. Both types of love consume you; emotional love, whether it's love for your family or love for your Creator, helps you reach new heights. And the love for power brings you to your darkest downfall.

If only I understood all that. If only I had realised that I had allowed the wrong kind of love to consume me.

I closed my eyes and for a brief second, I remembered the Punjabi girl, with the paranda woven through her braid; the surma adorning her eyes and the dark lipstick. She remembered the young, handsome and charming son of Abdul Rahim Gillani: Shabeer Gillani. 

It could have been a simple story of an all-consuming love...had the love for power not invaded it.

*

Nafeesa

"I just wanted you to know that we accept this rishta." Ammi spoke to Farzana Aunty on the phone. 

I sat nearby on the sofa, my gaze on my hands as my fingers played with the ends of my dupatta.

"Aap sab ko bhi bohat, bohat mubarak ho." Ammi was smiling widely, even as tears filled her eyes. "Allah hamare bachon ko khushiyon bhari zindagi naseeb kare. Ameen."

*"Many congratulations to you all as well."
"May Allah bless our children with a blissful life. Ameen." 

After she hung up, I quickly stood up before I could melt in a pool of blush. "Ammi, I am going to work." 

"Nafeesa, listen." She held up a hand to stop me from leaving the room. "Dekho, beta, Ashar bhi hoga office main. Bas ek baat yaad rakhna: abhi sirf rishta taye hua hai, Nikah nahin hua. Kuch log baat paki honay ko, ya mangni honay ko, aise hi samajhlete hain jaise Nikah ho. Mehram sirf Nikah ke baad hota hai."

*"Look, dear, Ashar will be in the office as well. Just remember one thing: right now, only your marriage alliance has been fixed, the Nikah hasn't been performed yet. Some people equate the fixing of a marriage alliance, or an engagement, to Nikah being done. But a man and a woman become 'mehram' to each other only after Nikah."

"I know, Ammi." 

"I'm going to pray shukranay kay nafl." She said. "Pehli fursat main tum bhi pad laina."

*"You should also perform it the first chance you get."

"In Sha Allah, Ammi." 

Feeling like I had a swarm of butterflies inside my stomach, I practically skipped out of the room, a wide smile on my face.

*

Third Person POV

"I feel a heavy burden on my heard." Shabeer stood in the balcony of his home, staring out at the peace of the hills of Islamabad, the sight which was the complete opposite of his inner turmoil.

"People reap what they sow, Shabeer." Hadiqa whispered, softly. "She has worked her way up to the situation she has landed in."

"I know, but there's a strange sort of guilt inside me." 

"It's understandable. She's the mother of your kids." She placed a hand on his arm. "Her pain doesn't please you, it's natural." 

He turned to look at her. Her fair face was framed by her dark, auburn hair, and her light brown eyes were not hidden behind her usual glasses at the moment.  She was beautiful, no doubt, but she had chosen him despite knowing that he was a father to grown up kids, and the fact that he had basically tossed aside his family's legacy to stand on his own two feet. Hadiqa had stuck by him through thick and thin. "Thank you for always being so understanding, Hadi." 

She smiled. "I can say the same to you. You stood by me through everything as well." 

He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close, kissing the side of her head. "I hope things will get brighter now." 

"In Sha Allah." She wrapped her arm around his waist and closed her eyes.

****

Sabeen

The villain was caught.

The world was a bright, shiny place again full of flowers and rainbows.

Not.

The storm that had occurred upon Mama's arrest had been silent, but had left behind a lot of pain.

I lay on my back on my bed, my eyes closed. A tear slid down the side of my face, and my lower lip trembled.

When I was child, and I craved for Mama, I made up stories in my head about princesses and their mothers living in glittering castles in the clouds. The mothers taught the princesses to ride unicorns, and catch star dust.

Childhood is so simple and naïve.

I imagined her in a prison cell, and it hurt so much that I wanted to scream my lungs out. It shouldn't hurt so much! She barely ever cared for me, so why am I hurting so much at the thought of her in pain?

I sat up, and grabbed my phone from the side table and dialled a number. "Assalam Alaikum, Dado. I'm coming to stay over there at the Gillani mansion." 

*

"Here." Dado nodded at the mug of hot chocolate the maid had set in front of me, complete with cream and marshmallows. "Drink up." 

It was a childhood thing. Whenever I was sad or upset, Dado had my favourite hot beverage prepared for me.

"Sabeen, none of us wanted this for Samreen. We all cared for her in our own ways, and what happened has hurt all of us." 

"I know that I have a lot to be grateful about, and I don't want to seem like I'm complaining, but I feel like I've lost all my chance of ever receiving proper maternal affections from her." And suddenly, my eyes filled up. "I don't know what I did to deserve such...indifference." 

"You didn't do anything, my dear. Don't ever think that." She placed a hand on my cheek. "You were the blessing from Allah that Samreen never appreciated. She is the ungrateful one, one who never cherished the most important people in her life." She took a deep breath. "But, now she is suffering the punishment for her deeds, so we all should let go of the resentments, and just pray that she sees the errors of her ways and repents." 

"Somehow I doubt that she will." 

"Sometimes, all it takes is a second for the seed of repentance to be planted in our heart. I hope that this is the case with Samreen. I hope that for your sake, as well as Hamdan's and Seerat's." 

And yet, I had no faith left in Mama to even find a dot of repentance in her heart.

*

Nayab

We sat at the doctor's office, and I felt as nervous as I did when it was time for our school results, and Ammi was the one who accompanied me to receive them.

Hamdan looked lost in his thoughts, staring out the window to his left, as he sat in the chair beside me. Meanwhile, Dr Sumbal, was studying the reports in front of her. It was so quiet in the room that I began to tap my foot lightly on the floor to create some noise.

"You are in your fifth month already, I can see." Finally, the doctor spoke, looking up at me. "So far, I am satisfied that you and the baby are both healthy." 

"Alhumdulillah." I whispered.

"You mentioned that you both want to know the gender of the baby?" She asked, glancing briefly at Hamdan, before returning her gaze back at me.

I nodded, before placing my hand on Hamdan's forearm to get his attention. He looked at me startled, almost as if he had forgotten where he was or who was present in the room with him. "You okay?" I asked, concerned.

"Yeah, just tired." He rubbed a hand over his eyes and sat up straight.

I know that this wasn't just exhaustion. He had emotionally taken a massive blow after hearing about his mother's arrest, and the end of the Azaad Awam Party. I had asked him if he really wanted to do this today, or to postpone it, but he had insisted that we came because he needed some sweet news right now.

"Nayab, Hamdan, you are going to be proud parents to..." The doctor paused for a dramatic effect. "A baby boy." 

I felt my eyes fill up with happiness. Pressing my hands over my stomach, I glanced down. My baby boy. My special little guy. My Hamdan Junior.

I looked at my husband, who didn't look surprised by the gender reveal, thanks to his mother.

"I'll give you guys some privacy." Dr Sumbal seemed a little confused by the lack of reaction from my husband, but she got up and walked out without a further word, closing the door behind her.

"Hamdan, we're having a boy!" I smiled, grabbing his hands. 

"Yeah, I knew..." He nodded, forcing a smile on his face as he looked at me.

"Are you not happy?" I was confused. "Did you want a girl?" 

"Well, yes, but that doesn't mean that I'm not happy." He got down on the floor in front of me, on his knees, our hands still clasped together. "I'm sorry, Nayab. I'm genuinely happy. It's our baby, a part of us, and I love him more than life itself." He leaned forward to kiss my belly. "It's just a very bittersweet time for me right now. I'm ecstatic to know our baby's gender, but..."

But Samreen Gillani's arrest has caused an unexpected storm in the lives of the Gillani kids, causing them an unforeseen amount of pain. No matter what, she is their mother, an irreplaceable relationship. Who would want to see their mother in a situation such as this, no matter what?

"I get it." I reassured him. "It's okay." 

He got up and sat back down on the chair beside me. "I didn't think that it would hurt this much." 

"She's your mother. Of course, it's painful."

"How unfair is all this? She did so much, and yet my heart still aches for her." 

"Hamdan, this relationship is such that no matter what, there will always be love and concern present." I placed my hand over his. "It's okay to feel sad. And, no matter, what, I'm here with you. You can talk to me." 

He turned his hand so that his palm was facing up, and he closed his hand around mine.

"We'll get through this together, In Sha Allah." With my free hand, I reached out to brush stray locks of his hair away from his face.

*

Seerat

"Am I a horrible person for crying for a person like her?" I sobbed, placing my hands over my face.

"No, you're not. You are her daughter; someone who has always remained close to her, no matter what the circumstances." Dado's gentle voice made me cry harder. She ran a hand over my head, smoothing down my hair.

As soon as I'd heard that Sabeen was here, I'd found myself coming to Dado's house, wanting to cry on her shoulder.

"She deserves this so much, yet my heart is breaking, Dado." I continued.

Dado wrapped her arm around my shoulders, letting me cry to my heart's content.

*

Sabeen

I left for the office straight after Fajr. I couldn't sleep and I needed to get some work down to distract myself. 

The first thing I did, when I reached the office, was to start preparing the morning coffee. I also turned on the music because everything was so quiet, and the silence was causing unwanted thoughts to invade my mind.

Tu mera dildaar hai menu, pal pal dasdi jaave,
Saaray jag toun daadi ay par, mere toun sharmavey,
Moun dupattay te pallu vich karke hasdi jaave,
Meriyan te neendaran o maar gayi...

Meriyan te neendaran o maar gayi, har paase haase khilar gayi,
Mainu keh gayi eh doli'ch paal le, keh aaj to main teri hoyi.

*You are my beloved, she keeps telling me every moment.
She is bold in front of the rest of the world, but shy in front of me.
She keeps laughing, while hiding her face behind her dupatta.
She has made my sleep disappear.

She has made my sleep disappear, she has spread laughter everywhere.
She has told me 'make me sit in a palanquin, as I am yours from today'.

*Do these lyrics remind anyone else of Tara from 'Yours, Eternally'?

I was softly singing along to the Punjabi lyrics, swaying my shoulders a little as I made coffee.

"Is that right?"

The sudden human voice made me jump and the mug almost slipped from my hands. I whirled around, eyes wide, and my heart started beating even harder when I saw Shadab standing in the doorway, dressed in a full black tracksuit and trainers.

"Should I arrange for the doli?" He asked, grinning.

"It's a song, not my pledge to you." I rolled my eyes.

He chuckled.

"This is an office. What's with the gym wear?" I asked, turning back and ignoring my frantic heartbeat. And it wasn't just because of the little scare he had given me.

"I go to the gym next door, shower there and then come to work straight away usually. I like early starts." He shrugged. "Enough for one more cup?" 

"I hate early starts." I muttered. "And sure."

"If you hate early starts, what are you doing here?" 

"I craved coffee, so I decided to come all the way out here to get some." 

"Your sarcasm certainly loves early starts, Miss Gillani." He stood beside me and grabbed his own mug.

I didn't reply as I focused on finishing making my hot beverage.

"Have you been crying?" He asked, softly.

I looked at him, completely startled yet again...this time by the concern in his voice, and by how easily he had read something on my face to come to that conclusion. "N-No...I just didn't sleep well." 

He raised an eyebrow.

"It's not a big deal." 

"My great-aunt always says this one thing: woh khana hai khoob, jo moun main pani le aaye; woh jazbaat bade, jo aankh main aansoo le aayain."

*"That food is great, one that brings water to the mouth; those emotions are big, which bring tears to the eyes."

"If there are tears in your eyes, it's definitely not a small deal." He added. "Talk to me. I've been told that my listening skills are quite decent." 

"Decent is not good enough. I need someone with excellent listening skills." I joked, a small smile appearing on my lips.

"Can I get a chance to re-word myself?" He asked. "My listening skills are as good as the talker needs them to be." 

I couldn't help laughing. "Fine. You win. Yes, I was crying. As you, and the rest of the world, have probably heard, Samreen Gillani is in police custody."

His expressions sobered, and he nodded slightly. "Yes, I have heard. I just had no idea how to sensitively approach this subject." He paused. "I'm sorry, Sabeen."

"Why? Isn't that a good thing? The villain is finally going to be held accountable." God, my sarcasm really did love early starts!

"There's no denying that she's in there for a reason, Sabeen. But she's your mother, so the pain that you are feeling is completely justified." His eyes held so many unreadable emotions, that I backed away, overwhelmed.

Taking my coffee mug, I headed inside the office, and took a seat at my desk. I started at the photo that I had recently placed in a frame at my desk: Papa, Hadiqa Aunty, Dado, Hamdan Bhai, Nayab Bhabi, Appi and the kids, as well as me; all of us smiling happily at the camera.

And, even though it was a photo that I adored, it was suddenly a stark reminder of a very important person in our lives; an absence that would probably be lifelong now.

I put my head down at the desk, taking shallow breaths, trying not to cry. 

And yet, I was due for another shocking surprise that day.

*

It was close to ten, and I was suddenly reminded by my stomach that I'd only had coffee that morning, and nothing to eat.

I headed down to the café nearby, and bought myself a panini as well as another cup of coffee, before taking a seat on an empty table at the upper level of the café.

As I had my breakfast, I scrolled through my social media accounts, when suddenly my finger paused as it was about to scroll down.

New Match?

I saw a photo of Shadab, clearly at a formal event, standing next to a model-esque woman, with a slim figure and straight, waist long hair. I read the caption under the photo, and it seemed that Mrs Rafeeque was potentially considering this gorgeous political heiress for her son. But the comments I read underneath were even worse.

@ user12456324: Wait... I thought he was with Sabeen Gillani?

@ storyworld11166: reply to @ user12456324: Men are impatient. How long would he have waited for that nakhrili b***h? It's clear that Gillani brat enjoys making him wait. 

I suddenly lost my appetite. 

Was it true? Were the Rafeeques considering marrying Shadab off to someone else?

And why was it making me feel like someone had stabbed me in the heart?

*

"So...?" 

Shadab looked up from his desk, raising his eyebrows at me. "So?" 

"Your parents are considering a girl for you? Some political heiress?" I asked, taking a seat opposite him.

He gave me a small smile. "They taking I'm aging, and I need to find a biwi."

*Biwi: wife.

"And they think that girl....is the right choice?" I asked.

His smile widened. "Maya, you mean?" 

I shrugged. "I only saw her photo. Don't know who she is." I was lying. I knew exactly who she was: Maya Khan, a model/political heiress who had studied at Oxford University.

"Uska ek ishara mil jaye, saari duniya chodh doon ga; woh ban jaye manzil meri, saare raste modh doon ga." He said, cryptically, standing up.

*"I need a sign from her, and I will leave the whole world for her; so she becomes my destinations,  I will change all my paths."

"What is that supposed to mean?" I wrinkled my nose in confusion.

"I've made my choice, Sabeen. And I will stick to my choice, no matter what my parents say." The heat in his eyes left no room for doubts.

"What about Maya?" 

He leaned one hand on the desk, staring intently at me. "I'm a simple man, Sabeen. Is liye seedhi tarhan boldo na keh tum mujhe pasand karti ho aur tumhain yeh khayal bhi bura lagta hai ke main kisi aur ke saath ho sakta hoon."

*"So directly tell me that you like me, and you even hate the idea of me being with someone else."

"I..." I was speechless, simple as that.

"Nahin pasand karti?" A corner of his lips raised up in an amused smile.

*"You don't like me?" 

I stood up. "I should go and get some work done." My cheeks were warmed up, and I rushed towards the door before he saw them.

"Maine faisla badal liya hai. Bata dena...kab aaon Uncle se baat karne?" 

*"I've changed my mind. Tell me...when should I come to talk to Uncle?" 

*

FLASHBACK

Shadab looked into my eyes, and for a brief moment I almost forgot why I'd refused marriage with him. He was unexpectedly charming and amazing, and I felt like I'd only rejected him because I didn't want to listen to my mother.

"Ghalat faisla to nahin kardiya?" He seemed to be thinking the same thing.

*"Did we make the wrong decision?"

"Yeh to waqt hi batayega." I shrugged.

*"Only time will tell."

"Aur agar raaste main faisla badl liya, to?"

*"And if we change our minds along the way?"

I played with the ring on my finger. "Phir aajana mere ghar, mere Papa se baat karne."

*"Then come to my house to talk to my father."

"Mujhe to abhi se hi razamandi lagti hai." He whispered.

*"I already sense acceptance."

"Shaadi aur karobar, donon soch samajhke karne chahiye. Jaldbaazi se nuksaan ho jata hai." I gave him a smile. "Allah Hafiz, Shadab."

*"Marriage and business should be done after great consideration. Rushing might cause loss."

*

I raced out of the room, my heart pounding hard in my chest.

And before I could think twice, I grabbed my phone and typed a message:

<Sabeen: Come whenever you want. But, bring your parents. It's best to involve parents in these matters.>

I bit my lip to hide a smile.

I felt great. Shadab had expressed how he felt, but he had given me the time and space to reach the conclusion on my own. It made me feel good because it meant that I didn't make any decision under parental/family pressure.

I had fully thought of things, and taken the time to realise...that I had feelings for Shadab Rafeeque.

For all I knew, I was possibly even in love with him.

But, I didn't want to rush things. For now, it was enough that I was ready for his parents to speak to my father and stepmother regarding our rishta.

I glanced over my shoulder and saw Shadab in the doorway of his office, glancing in my direction with a small smile on his face. I smiled back, suddenly just knowing that I had made the right decision.

But how did I raise this topic with my family? God, it's going to be so awkward.

It was almost funny: Mama had repeatedly pushed towards a marriage alliance between me and Shabad. And now, I had reached the same decision, but on my own terms. When someone makes a decision on their own, and not out of pressure, they feel almost empowered. 

That's how I felt right now. The Sabeen, whose decisions were not taken seriously in her household, simply because she was the baby of the family, had finally made a major life decision on her own- a well thought out decision.

I just hope that our families agree, especially his, after all the drama Shadab and I caused the last time.

*

A REMINDER TO YOU ALL REGARDING THE 'DRAMA' THAT HAPPENED THE LAST TIME THERE WAS A MARRIAGE DISCUSSION BETWEEN THESE TWO. THIS WAS AFTER SABEEN'S CAR WINDOW WAS SHATTERED BY SOME STUDENTS AT UNIVERSITY

"Sabeen, is that you?" Mama's voice came from the drawing room.

I had noticed the unfamiliar cars outside, but I had decided to ignore everyone and just go up to my room, but I wasn't that lucky.

"Yes, Mama." I replied.

"Come in here, dear."

Rolling my eyes, I headed inside, ready for a façade of politeness and sweetness.

Instead, I was stunned when the first words I heard were: "I'm sorry, but I can't marry her."

My gaze went to the owner of the voice and I saw someone I had seen before, but never personally met: Shadab Rafeeque. I gasped in mock mortification. "Oh no! Don't say that! I was dying to be known as your wife. Whatever will I do if you reject me?" Then I rolled my eyes to emphasise my sarcasm. I had basically just been attacked and I was not in the mood to be treated like a museum showpiece.

Shadab stood up, a warm grin on his face. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way, Sabeen. I just meant that I don't want to be forced into a marriage." He was tall, handsome and well-built. He was a well known eligible bachelor in the upper class society. With his neatly trimmed beard and hazel eyes, he was definitely a heartthrob.

But I was not the girl who would simply go heads over heels for someone's looks. "Glad to know that we're in the same page."

However, Mr and Mrs Rafeeque didn't look impressed by the rejection of their second child by the second Gillani child.

"Sabeen is naïve." My mother smiled, but I could see her rage for me behind it. "I excuse her impulsive reply..."

"Aunty, with all due respect, but the potential groom is not ready, the potential bride is not ready, so what kind of alliance are we talking about here, cause it certainly isn't marriage." Shadab pointed out.

"You seem wise, so I apologise if my rejection offended you." I smiled.

"I apologise as well." He smiled back. "But, I want to travel and build a proper career before I even think of settling down."

"God, I feel like I'm listening to myself talk." I shook my head. "But desi parents don't understand that there's more to life than arranged marriage."

"And desi political parents understands that even less." He added.

We both laughed.

"Shadab!" Mr Rafeeque stood up, looking red in the face.

"It's okay, Dad." Shadab patted his father's back. "We all can part ways on cordial terms. No need for the dramatics."

I bit my lower lip to try to stifle a smile because I knew that my mother was glaring at me.

"Maybe we can try again in a few years?" Shadab asked me, jokingly.

"We'll see how my life ends up. If we find nobody else, why not?" I joked back.

"Sabeen!" My mother shot up to her feet.

"Sorry, Mama. Maybe I'm in shock after being attacked after my university. But no, you only care about my rishta discussions. Please carry on. Don't let my lack of consent interfere." I nodded at Shadab and his parents. "It was lovely to meet you all. Allah Hafiz." I turned and marched out of the room, feeling tears in my eyes.

My mother had gone behind my back and called them over. I, once again, pictured myself as a bird in a cage, flapping its wings but going nowhere.

*

'After every hardship, there's ease.'

Things will start to look better for the Gillani siblings now...I think.

Will Sabeen and Shadab's rishta be fixed without further drama?

Samreen's downfall has brought a lot of pain in their lives, even though it was almost expected.

Thoughts and comments?

Thank you for reading and don't forget to vote.

Two chapters in twenty-four hours, after months of being MIA! 

****