I sat on my bed, slouched over, while still in the nikkah attire. The heels of my hands pressed against the socket of my eyes; as I tried to piece together how and where did it all start to go wrong. The earliest memory, I could trace back to, was when I was 4 and for the first time witnessed the horrors of my world.
"Now you will tell me what to do and what not to—?!! I think you've forgotten your place—I'll have to make it so, you never make the same mistake twice—" I stood on top of stairs watching Dad hit Mom through the railings. I was in bed when the loud noises scared me and I got out to check them—
"Naveed Baba!!" I was pulled back with a jerk by my Nanny who picked me in her arms and dashed to my room.
"Buwa—buwa—why was Daddy hitting Mommy? Did Mommy do bad—?" I asked between
