“Acha larka hai, bare bhai ke saath Hyderabad mein karobar kerta hai. Ghar me sirf bare bhai ki biwi or uske 2 bache hain, saas, sasur pichle saal intiqal ker gae, tumhen khush rakhega”. This is all that my father told me about my husband-to-be. Within a week, my father fixed the date and I got married on 21 September 2013. He was a nice person but only for the 3 weeks of our marriage.

One night, he came home around 12. I waited for him because achi biwiyon ko chahye ke wo apne shohar ka intezar kren, unko khana diye beghair na sojaen. He slammed the door, almost shouted and asked me to come to him. I found that he is drunk and was not in his senses. I tried to escape, he squeezed my arm and slapped me for the first time, ever. I quietly sat where he asked me to and then he fulfilled his only demand from me.

The very next day, when he woke up, after witnessing the mess around him, he came to me and apologized for everything that happened the night before. Without saying a single word, I accepted his apologies with a lame excuse of “dost zabardasti le gae thay”

I forgave him but it was my mistake that I didn’t inform my parents about this incident on the very first day. He didn’t change himself and the chain of incidents continued till I got pregnant. My husband took great care of me, he treated me politely and never slapped me during this period but never left the habit of drinking.

One day, when my father came to visit me and stayed a night at our home, he witnessed the condition of my husband by himself. He warned my husband and later on, involved the elders of our family so that they could remind him the ethical values of keeping a wife. After listening to a lost list of advice, he let them go in one ear and out the other. There came the time when I gave birth to a baby boy but he was unaware of the fate he was coming with.

My father took the responsibility of the newborn and warned my husband once again but sadly, he loved alcohol more than his son. After a few months, my husband came to bring me back, but my father resisted and strictly demanded that either leave your wife or alcohol. He went back without saying a word.

As my son reached the age of 4, his father didn’t visit as much. My father then took a step and asked me to file for Khula and sent my son back to his father. I barely wept, I was unable to utter a single word. My son, a part of my body, I took care of him for about 5 years, how could I send him to the person who won’t love him? How could I detach him from myself? I was crying bitterly but no one listened. With the consent of my husband, all the paper formality was done and I am a divorcee now!

My son is now living with his father and according to my father, the elder brother’s wife of my husband is taking care of him. I am no more open to anyone, not at all…

In Pakistani society, when a woman gets divorced, she is considered as a sinner, tainted and damaged. She is not allowed to come back to the life. Our society forces her to live under the label of “talaaq-yafta”, she has to mourn the relationship throughout her life or as much as possible as she can and never say a word. I am working as a teacher in a school and not allowed to tell anyone about my “divorce”. My mother is looking for proposals and I am preparing myself once again; to be shattered!