“The Pain of Mistreatment in Love” is the author’s first novel. | Season 1 Episode 2

“The Pain of Mistreatment in Love”

Her tears flowed ceaselessly, the haunting night scene refusing to leave her mind. Seated on the ground, she pondered how darkness could encompass everything so profoundly. it is a very painful scene in my life. He told her to get up fast, get dressed, and come downstairs. In response to his strong glare, Ashnaal raised her head. What captivates your gaze, she inquired, her eyes welling with submission. You must get up or suffer the consequences. It’s resolved now. As she descended, all eyes fell upon her. Confusion clouded her expression, and her gaze remained lowered, unable to meet anyone’s eyes.

“Let’s go,” Roshanal stated, grabbing the suitcase and initiating their departure.

“Where on earth are we heading?” she inquired. “Follow my instructions without excessive questions.

“You are supposed to take me on our honeymoon. How could you forget? By robbing my daughter’s happiness, you have tainted her destiny,” she muttered. “I have always prayed for your well-being. Yet, you’re not my daughter; your birth took your mother’s life, and you, in turn, revealed that you are mine.

Sweetie, I cherished you, and you betrayed me.” Samina Begum had crossed all limits of callousness. “Please, Mother,” she sobbed brokenly, her trembling hand grasping his. “Leave my sight.” She rose abruptly. “Mother, believe me,” she implored Tahmina Begum. “Go, he will take you to the city.” She wiped her tears and embraced him. Her gaze met John, who averted his eyes. He never intervened. Ashnaal glanced at everyone, tears streaming down her face, but no response was given. Manal remained silent, feeling the weight of shame. It was over.

Ashnaal argued that this was her home too. Hasanal sided with her but fell silent under Agha Jan’s stern gaze. The shocking silence from everyone stunned them as they were escorted outside.

She cried, her gaze moving from one person to another.

Samina Begum fixed Roshanal with a piercing gaze, her question hanging heavy in the air, “Are you coming or not?” The intensity of her stare made it clear that she expected a definitive answer.

In response, Roshanal calmly instructed, “Ensure the luggage is properly stowed inside the car.” His voice betrayed no hint of impatience or frustration, as if he was accustomed to such confrontations and knew how to navigate them without losing composure.

Roshanal held out his hand to the worker and whispered, “Come on. “Mom, please don’t take me. Please pardon me, everyone. Roshanal ignored their cries. I won’t accompany you, Mom. You are disgusting. He turned, released his grip, and smacked her in the face. He pushed her into the car, locked it, and sat down on the opposite side.
“Now you all can rejoice. Welcome to China. This was also my father’s house.”

She continued crying throughout the journey, but Roshanal did not attempt to console her.

Her tears were inconsequential to him. He drove with unwavering focus. After an hour, they arrived at the apartment. He descended, followed by Ashnaal. Inserting the key, he opened the door to a completely new flat, adorned with contemporary furniture—sofas, beds, and everything else. It consisted of four rooms, an American-style kitchen, and a spacious lounge. He had purchased this flat a year ago, following Kabir Sahib’s advice, as a place to stay when he was late for the office.

“I’m heading to the office to set everything up,” he stated, his gaze fixed on her tear-stricken face.

“How will I be alone? I’m afraid,” she pleaded. Roshanal knew how terrified she was of the dark, yet he wished to torment her.

“You’ll have to manage like everyone else. I won’t be concerned anymore. I’ll show you,” he replied callously. He had observed her tears throughout the night.

Her crying resumed. Her sobbing continued. You’ve put an end to my joy and made it illegal for me to survive. She blushed in shame at the harshness of his remarks, and tears again trickled down her cheeks. “Ensure everything is in order by the time I return.” Her crying intensified, a realization dawning upon her that the last person who cared for her had departed. The fragile wax doll, a gift from the past, couldn’t withstand the cruelty of this man’s words.

She spent the entire day cleaning the flat, initially feeling a bit anxious. However, as she realized that she would be spending the days alone, she mustered the courage. She dragged the heavy suitcase and unpacked her clothes, organizing them meticulously. Once done, she mopped the kitchen floor and ensured everything was spotless.

When the Maghrib adhan (call to prayer) echoed, she performed ablution, offered her prayers, and eventually fell asleep on the same bed after reciting Surah Yasin.

Late in the night, he arrived home. The entire flat appeared sparkling, with an air of elegance. He stored the food in the kitchen and entered the room where she peacefully slept, wrapped in a dupatta, reminiscent of prayer. He couldn’t help but gaze at her innocent face. He settled down beside her, but the moment he leaned forward, her eyes fluttered open. Roshanal straightened up and sat beside her. Although Ashnaal felt a slight unease, she stood up when he instructed her to serve food, for he was hungry. Observing his aloof expression, she complied.

She headed to the kitchen, heated the food, and laid it out on the table. Meanwhile, he sat at the table, his hands on his head, ready to eat. “Bring me coffee as well. And yes, tomorrow I’ll bring groceries and other supplies. You’ll prepare the next meal.” If she ever missed a meal due to illness, he would bring it to her room along with a tablet. However, since she had been hungry since yesterday, he showed no concern.

She prepared the coffee and placed a cup in front of him while he worked on the computer. Engrossed in his tasks, he ate his food diligently, never diverting his gaze from her. Ashnaal felt a glimmer of happiness, appreciating the fact that he cared about her.

“I don’t like to waste food, and I don’t have any illicit money for you to spend. Finish off the food that is on your plate. I’ll check the garbage can tomorrow to see whether it’s still there,” he declared sternly. Ashnaal exited the room after her joy was destroyed as Roshanal filled a cup of coffee and pondered what he had done. He was aware that she had been famished since yesterday. He couldn’t tell her to eat since he could see how exhausted she was and it would make him look horrible.

She retreated to the kitchen, and after sipping some coffee, she mechanically washed the dishes, turned off the lights, and retired to her room.

Upon entering, she noticed him asleep, his head resting on the chair. She gently began removing his shoes, causing his eyes to snap open at the touch of her fingers. “What are you doing?” he jerked his feet back.

“Take off your shoes,” she insisted firmly. “I was told to do so. Don’t try to entice me with such grand gestures now.” Her tears welled up once again.

“Leave me alone. You’re only giving me a headache,” he retorted, pushing her away. With tears under control, she exited the room and sought solace in the lounge. Overwhelmed by exhaustion, he removed his shoes and drifted off to sleep.

At two o’clock in the night, he awoke, his eyes darting around the room, realizing she wasn’t present.

To be continued…

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