Sadkey Tumhare. (For Your Sake)

Chapter 1. Aaina.   I was curled up on the bed, my body warm with the comforter resting all over my shoulders while I scrolled through my cell phone. My sister laid beside me, her head nearly touching my stomach. She didn't even stir when the dark wooden door opened and our mother stepped in. I could see how pale Ammi was, more than the usual. Her face drawn in with worry of some sort. I sat up straight. She smiled, but it was her fake smile. A smile which usually gave away that something was very wrong. Or maybe Abbu (father) had been somewhat cruel to her. He had the capability to be that way at times. "Your father wants to talk to you. He's in his study." Mother announced with another fake comforting smile. I gulped but stood up anyway. My mother avoided my eyes as I walked towards her. "Is there a problem?" I enquired but heard no response. I picked up my dupatta (stole) instead, wearing it around my neck. "Ammi? Am I in trouble?" She didn't respond to my query and remained silent as I gathered my hair up in a pony tail. "Hurry. Your abbu doesn't like to wait." She said simply, ushering me out the door. My nerves were at their peak when I arrived in front of my father's study. I took a few deep breaths before knocking twice at the door. "Come in." I entered the room with sweaty palms. Our father wasn't the most kind person that I had known. He was always busy, he almost never paid attention to us and hardly treated mother well. I tried to relax but I was genuinely scared. My father sat on the leather armchair, a newspaper in his hand and a phone in another. I stood near the desk and he finally looked up from his paper, at me. "Salam, abbu." I greeted nervously. He nodded. "Sit." I sat down on the armchair across from his desk and folded my hands in my lap, waiting for him to speak. "The elections are coming next year. My support and my money are still going to the ruling party." He started off. I frowned, confused. He had never really included us in his business talks, he thought we weren't intellectual enough. We were. My mother knew more about world history and global politics than my own father. But living in a society like ours, she couldn't really protest. Instead, she always acted dumb and remained oppressed by our father, teaching us that this was the duty of a woman, of a wife. I didn't know whether she was right or not. Women could be ministers out of their homes but inside, they were either dutiful daughters or honorable wives. I knew better than to interrupt my father as he spoke. "There is alot of pressure on me, I have to make a decision," He further explained but I only got more confused than before. "Arhaam Sheikh asked for your hand in marriage-" If my eyes could pop out of their sockets, they would have popped out in that instant. What? I wanted to yell, shout a few curse words right there and then but I was in front of my father, all I could do was listen to him. Arhaam Sheikh was the chairman of a political party, a provincial ruling party at that. He had several charges on him. Corruption, money laundering, assault, killings, you name it. But nobody, not even the court could do anything. He belonged to a powerful family, he was a chief minister. I didn't understand why he would even ask to marry me. I didn't know the creepy man, I had only met him once and I had almost pissed my pants. "He asked for it, just so he could win my support for the elections. Every party needs money and they would do anything for it." He explained. I frowned. "I'm sure they have plenty of their own money, abbu." I said lamely, he looked at me as if I was stupid. "The ruling party's money is the money of the people. Unlike the others, they are not corrupt. They can't run a successful campaign without the help of successful businessmen. They can't use the public's money..Media will create  chaos if they get a sniff." I still didn't know whether my father had agreed to the Sheikh's proposal or not. My heart felt like it was in my throat as I waited for him to say the words. "I told them I can't accept their proposal." A sigh escaped my mouth. Alhamdullilah. All thanks to the almighty. I already felt so thankful. "Thank you, abbu." He waved me off, and I was about to stand up and leave when his gaze stopped me, I sank deeper in my seat. "A few hours later, I got a call from Idrees Ziagil himself, he gave me a proposal I couldn't refuse, to strengthen our bond." My heart raced in my chest. "There is no bond stronger than blood, my daughter." I always knew I would have to marry someone of my father's choice. I always knew that I would hardly have a say in it. I just didn't know I would be married off for business, for politics. That was a pill hard to swallow. "Zaydaan Ziagil will make a fine husband for you," He announced. "But abbu," I tried. I was mentally prepared for something like this since the day I had turned twenty. Two years ago. But it didn't hurt to atleast try. "I have a semester in Barcelona, my education isn't even complete and I-" He glared at me, if he could burn me with those orbs, he would have. "I just, I want to complete my education first." I protested. My father remained quiet for a while and I actually thought he was reconsidering everything. But then, he stood up and looked at me. "The next time I see you protesting about something, it should be about the color of your wedding dress. Suddenly, my heart was heavy and the dread of marrying a strange man filled me. But I didn't cry. Because I knew, one day, I would have to go through with this. I just hoped my fate wasn't the same as my mother. She had lived her whole life caged. I didn't want that for myself.