ENOUIA

Zindagi leke ayi hai beete dinon ki kitaab

Ghere hain ab hamein yaadein behisaab

Bin pooche mile mujhe
Kitne saare jawaab
♡
زندگی لے کے آئی ہے بیتے دنوں کی کتاب
گھیرے ہیں اب ہمیں یادیں بے حساب
بن پوچھے ملے مجھے کتنے سارے جواب

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Hafsa Begum quietly stepped into Amara's room,she was informed by Gul, the housemaid that Sardar Ghazan was not well, so she came to the haveli as soon as she could, her heart weighed down by years of regret. Amara sat by the window, her gaze fixed on the dimming light outside, her expression sullen and distant. It had become a familiar scene for Hafsa ,her daughter, lost in thought, a heavy sadness always present in her eyes. Hafsa hesitated at the doorway, then slowly made her way to sit beside her.

"Amara, beta, can I come in?" Hafsa asked gently, her voice barely above a whisper.

Amara didn't turn to face her mother. Her tone was flat, devoid of any warmth. "You're already here, Ammi," she said, not bothering to look at her.

Hafsa's heart clenched at the coldness in Amara's voice, but she couldn't blame her. She knew the burden she had placed on her daughter. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the silence filled with the weight of what had happened two years ago. Hafsa took a deep breath, finally gathering the courage to speak.

"I know you're upset, Amara," Hafsa began, her voice trembling slightly. "And I know it's my fault. I've been trying to find the right words for so long... but maybe there aren't any right words for what I did."

Amara turned to look at her mother then, her eyes filled with a deep, unspoken pain. It was a look Hafsa had seen many times before, and each time, it pierced her heart. "Right words?" Amara's voice was laced with bitterness. "What could you possibly say that would make any of this better, Ammi? I lost my sister, and then you put me in her place, as if I could somehow take over her life."

Hafsa felt a lump rise in her throat. The guilt she carried was immense, a shadow that followed her every day since that fateful decision. "Amara," she said, her voice breaking, "we never intended to replace Sara. We never wanted to put you in a position like this. It all happened so quickly... your Khala was devastated. Ghazan had just lost his bride of fifteen days. Your Khala, in her grief, she begged me. She pleaded for your hand in marriage. At that moment, I thought it was the right thing to do. I thought it would bring some comfort, some solace... for everyone."

Amara's face twisted with a mixture of anger and hurt. "Comfort? Solace?" she repeated, her voice filled with disbelief. "Did you ever think about what was best for me, Ammi? Or for Ghazan? You pushed us into a marriage neither of us was ready for. I was mourning my sister, and he was mourning his wife. You thought putting us together would fix everything?"

Hafsa flinched at the harsh truth in her daughter's words. She remembered that day all too well. The air had been thick with sorrow; her sister, Ghazan's mother, had wept inconsolably. She had clutched Hafsa's hands, her eyes swollen and red from crying. In her desperation, she had begged for some sense of hope, something to cling to after the sudden loss of her daughter-in-law.

"Your Khala was broken," Hafsa said quietly, tears streaming down her cheeks. "She felt so alone. And Ghazan... I saw how shattered he was. I thought... I thought maybe this marriage would help him heal, and it would give you a purpose, too. But I see now how wrong I was."

Amara looked away, her expression pained. "It wasn't fair, Ammi. Not to me, and not to him. We were both trapped in a situation neither of us asked for."