Too fragile for the beast

2. Fragile

It was a fine evening.

The sun was on its way to setting. The sky was beautifully painted with shades of orange and yellow, while a few clouds were adorned in pink, creating a breathtaking view.

“Ma sha Allah, indeed Almighty is the greatest painter. How beautifully He has created this evening sky. It’s breathtaking,” she whispered, praising her Lord as she began painting the scene on her canvas.

Her name was Shafiyya Sulaiman, a 22-year-old girl pursuing her second year of a BA in Law. She loved painting—whether happy, sad, or stressed, painting was her escape. It brought her peace and relief, calming both her mind and soul.

Mariyam Sulaiman, her mother, was in her late forties—kind, innocent, and devoted to her family. A housewife through and through, her world revolved around her loved ones.

Sulaiman, her father, was a strict man in his early fifties who worked as a lecturer to provide for the family. Though he loved his children deeply, he never showed it, believing that affection might spoil them.

Shahil Sulaiman, Shafiyya’s 12-year-old younger brother, had Down syndrome. He was adored by everyone in the family, especially his sister. He loved Shafiyya immensely and never wanted to be away from her.

“Didi!!!”

Shafiyya startled at the sudden shout near her face.

“Ow, Shahil! You broke my eardrums!” she laughed, turning to her little brother, who looked like he was about to cry.

“Shahil? What’s wrong? Who upset my baby brother? Tell me—whoever it is, I’ll deal with them!” she said playfully. Her tone made Shahil whimper even more.

“You made me upset. You don’t love Shahil anymore. I know that,” he sniffled.

Understanding instantly what upset him, she softened. “Awww, my cute brother, now I get it. I have something that will make you smile!”

She pulled something from her bag and handed it to him. Seeing the fluffy stuffed elephant, Shahil’s face lit up.

“I thought you forgot about my gift… sorry for being a little rude,” he mumbled. Shafiyya hugged him tightly.

Shahil loved surprises and gifts, especially soft toys. Children with Down syndrome need more attention, love, and care than others—and for Shahil, that was always in abundance.

“How could I forget my baby Shahil? Especially when you asked for something? I saw a beautiful ornament at the mall and wanted to get it for you, but someone else liked it too. And since it was made of glass, I didn’t take it—because my naughty little brother would definitely break it and hurt himself,” she explained.

“Thank you so much, Didi! Oh no! Didi, Mom was calling you downstairs. I forgot to tell you,” Shahil added with a frown.

“I’ll be there in a minute. You go play with your new toy,” she said, planting a kiss on his cheek, making him giggle.

⸻

Shafiyya made her way downstairs, where her mother was busy preparing dinner. Her father was engrossed in the local news.

“Mom, you called me?” she asked.

“Yes, beta. Your father and I have something important to discuss with you.” Mariyam gestured for her to sit at the small dining table in the corner of the kitchen. Sulaiman also joined them.

Shafiyya felt her stomach drop. Something didn’t feel right.

“What is it, Mom?” she asked cautiously.

“Beta, we hope you trust that everything we do is for your future. Please don’t let our hopes down. We received a marriage proposal for you. It’s a good, decent family. The groom works as a manager in a private company with a good salary. They’ve asked for your hand,” her father said firmly.

She began coughing from the shock. She never expected her parents to drop this bombshell—not this soon.

“But Dad… I’m still studying. I’m not ready for marriage. The thought of leaving you both—and Shahil—makes me upset. I don’t want this now,” she said gently, hoping they would understand.

“If that’s your only concern, you can continue your studies after marriage. The groom’s family has no objections. But beta, you have to leave this family one day to make your own. You can visit us whenever you want,” her father replied sternly.

“But I’m not ready… please!” she pleaded.

“No more ‘buts.’ Be ready tomorrow evening. The groom’s family is coming to meet you. Mariyam, make sure she’s ready on time,” Sulaiman said before walking out.

Sulaiman was a man who wanted everything done his way. Since Mariyam married him, he had made every decision in her life—even choosing what dress she could wear. She followed like a puppet, too innocent to protest.

The same pattern continued with Shafiyya. As a child, she loved sports, but Sulaiman forbade them, saying they were unsuitable for girls. Instead, he pushed her into essay competitions, speeches, and poetry. She complied, for his sake.

She had dreams of pursuing computer science, but he made her study teacher training and child psychology. Later, when she wanted to do fashion designing, he forced her into law. She obeyed, believing it was for her good.

But marriage? She couldn’t accept that. It wasn’t a temporary phase—it was a lifetime bond with another person. She had expectations for her future partner—not a prince, but someone who would love her endlessly, respect her, support her dreams, and give her the freedom she never had. She wanted someone gentle and kind. She didn’t believe in haram love and had saved her heart for her future husband.

She didn’t even know this man her father mentioned—not his name, character, or intentions. How could she say yes? What if he was cruel? Tears welled in her eyes.

That night, after praying Isha, she begged her Lord not to let this marriage happen. Sleep was nowhere in sight as her mind swirled with thoughts. She didn’t even notice her mother knocking until the door banged again.

Careful not to wake Shahil, who was fast asleep beside her, hugging his new stuffed elephant, she opened the door.

“Beta, you haven’t eaten anything. Come, have something before sleeping. It’s not good to sleep on an empty stomach,” her mother said softly.

“I’m not hungry, Mom. I’ll eat in the morning,” came Shafiyya’s sad reply.

“I know you’re upset. Even I don’t like this proposal. But you know he won’t listen to anyone. Don’t think too much. Just meet them. If you don’t like them after meeting, we can try talking to your father,” Mariyam consoled her.

“Okay, Mom. I’m sleepy. Good night,” Shafiyya said, knowing deep down she had no power to refuse if her father had already made the decision.

Mariyam walked away, and Shafiyya returned to bed. She looked at her little brother, sleeping peacefully beside her, holding his elephant.

She lay down and closed her eyes, unaware that while she slept peacefully, someone else’s sleep had just been stolen…

To be continued •••