Latest posts by Muneera Jamal (see all)
- Motherhood Is Not Meant For Me, But The Hope Never Dies - November 11, 2016
- Five Minutes Of Motherhood - September 20, 2016
- Why We Don’t Talk About Men Rights ? - July 5, 2016
The sound of my churning stomach must be loud enough to wake Abba up- I hope not, though. I cannot bear another torrent of abuses. My hands are sore from scrubbing the floor and doing the dishes. My soles are full of blisters from having to carry the water buckets from the well today. I don’t even remember how many buckets did I carry, five maybe, or six, I really do not remember. I am not sure if it is because of my glucose deprived brain or because I am actually as dumb as Abba portrays me to be. This is my brother’s task but he was busy; he had gone to watch a movie with his friends. I want to watch a movie too but Abba would probably kill me for even thinking about it.
Mama made my favorite saalan for dinner. I do not remember being this happy in a very long time; I did not even mind grounding wheat today. I swear, I could have danced but if Abba had seen me dancing, Lord knows what he would have done.
Bhai entered the house just in time for the dinner. I wanted to ask him what was the movie about but I had to make roti for everyone, two roti for Abba and bhai and one for me and mama. I wanted the ‘feast’ to last longer so I ate slow, really slow. I had barely eaten a quarter of my roti when bhai asked for more. I pretended not to hear him but Abba had heard him. My roti was taken away and given to him.
My feet hurt and my hands are numb. The hunger pangs won’t subside; there is a dull ache in my stomach but it is my heart that suffered the most.