The Threads of Silence
992 Words
Ayesha’s sister’s wedding was approaching quickly, and it felt like the preparations were happening right in Iman’s home. Every day, Ayesha would return with piles of shopping bags, and then long discussions would unfold with Ammi and Amma. Iman usually just sat and watched—or sometimes got up, annoyed. Lately, her heart had been restless anyway. A strange storm brewed within her, growing stronger with each passing day.
“Iman!” Amma’s voice pulled her back to reality.
“Iman, after work tomorrow, go to the mall and pick out a dress for the mehndi.”
She sprang up. “What do you mean? Ayesha goes shopping every day. She can buy one for me too.”
“I’m sure she will,” Amma replied. “But the three of us have decided—you’ll go and choose your own dress.”
“Three of you? Who are the three? And why me?” Iman was clearly uninterested in shopping.
“Me, Amma, and Aunty,” Ayesha said with a grin. “It’ll be fun to see you in the middle of the mall, begging, ‘In the name of God, let me find a dress!’ She doesn’t know the first thing about shopping.”
Alizeh and Ayesha burst into laughter, clapping their hands.
“Hey, I’m not that hopeless!” Iman snapped.
“Then prove it,” Ayesha challenged her boldly.
“Fine! Now I have to prove it,” Iman accepted the challenge with full determination.
“Let’s see about that,” Alizeh and Ayesha teased as they returned to their tasks.
The next day, Iman stood in the middle of the mall, completely clueless. Her whole life, she had worn whatever Ammi or Amma picked out for her. Ayesha would shop and bring back whatever she liked—for herself and for Iman. Now, faced with the endless rows of shops and even after checking the mall map and asking AI about what to wear to a mehndi, her mind just wouldn’t focus.
Her phone rang.
“Iman, where are you?” It was Rowaid on the other end.
“I’m at the mall,” she replied, then suddenly had a thought. “Rowaid, do you have any experience with women’s shopping?”
“What? Iman, I don’t get it,” he said, confused.
“Actually, I have to buy a suit for Ayesha’s sister’s wedding. Ayesha challenged me, saying I couldn’t do it alone.” Iman explained her dilemma.
“And now you’re totally lost,” Rowaid understood.
“Give me two minutes. I’m coming,” he said.
Soon, he arrived and asked, “So what kind of outfit do you need?”
“For the mehndi, but nothing too heavy—just right,” Iman clarified.
“Let’s go,” he said, leading her to a*****e.
There were dresses of all kinds. Rowaid browsed confidently while Iman simply followed. Then, he paused in front of one dress. “Perfect. Iman, look at this.”
It was a beautiful mehndi green angrakha-style long shirt with delicate embroidery around the neckline and a rust-colored dupatta.
“It’s really nice,” she said, genuinely impressed.
“Let’s lock this down,” he said and asked the salesgirl to pack it.
After buying the dress, they headed to the food court.
“Rowaid, I must say, you have great taste. It seems like you’ve done a lot of women’s shopping,” Iman said.
“I used to do all of Ayeza’s shopping,” he replied.
“Ayeza? Who’s that?” Something stirred in Iman’s heart.
He fell silent, then gathered the courage to speak. “Ayeza was my sister.”
“Was your sister?” Iman didn’t understand.
“She’s no longer in this world,” he said quietly.
Iman was stunned. “I’m so sorry, Rowaid. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“It’s okay,” he said softly.
“It happened ten years ago. It was the day of my O-levels convocation. I, my mom, and dad were leaving. Ayeza had a fever, so she stayed home. I didn’t feel right leaving her with just the servants, but since they had all worked for us for years, my parents weren’t worried. After we left, the driver’s brother came to visit. Ayeza was sitting on the terrace. That man saw her and, when the driver stepped out, he sneaked upstairs toward her room. She got scared and ran downstairs, but he caught her and tried to force himself on her…”
Rowaid’s voice broke, and tears streamed down his face.
“…when she saw no way out, she jumped off the terrace.”
Iman sat frozen, not knowing how to console him. How much pain he must have been carrying—pain he never shared with anyone. Even his closest friends never knew the truth. Everyone just believed that Ayeza had died in an accident.
But here he was, baring his soul to her.
He composed himself and said, “I’ve ruined the mood.”
“Rowaid, what are you saying?” Iman replied softly. “Until today, I thought my pain was the biggest. But after hearing your story, mine feels so small in comparison. And the strength with which you’ve carried this—it's incredible. May Allah give you and your parents peace.”
They both sat in silence, words escaping them completely.
“I think we should head back. Your family must be waiting,” Rowaid finally said.
“Yes, let’s go,” Iman nodded as they got into the car.
“You know, Rowaid, the people closest to Allah are tested the hardest. I believe you’ve passed this test,” she said.
Rowaid smiled. “You have a gift for healing hearts, Iman.”
“And you have a gift for protecting them,” she replied as she stepped into the car.
He smiled again—understanding the deeper meaning in her words.
- Writer
