****

"Mr Hassan, a word?"

Aamir broke away from his family. For the first time in days he could see smiles and even an occasional laugh. Things were looking good, and he would not allow his pessimistic brain to let him worry about Mayra's actual condition that would be known only when she would wake. He would cross that bridge when he would reach it.

"Mr Hassan, we are moving your wife to the ward. As per your request, it's a private room but only one person at a time would be allowed."

"I understand Doctor. Thank you so much." Aamir replied joyfully before turning away, wanting to run to his family to relay the good news.

"Mr Hassan, please." The doctor stopped him. "There's something else."

"What?" Aamir asked, apprehensive.

"I spoke to the Inspector in charge of your wife's case. He has instructed that nobody should be allowed to communicate with her before she gives her statement to the police as soon as she wakes. The Officer made it quite clear that he needs to know if she actually is suicidal."

"My wife is not crazy!" Aamir retorted angrily. "She is not suicidal!"

The doctor gave him an odd look before saying, "are you sure, Mr Hassan? Domestic violence can be a powerful motivator for someone to consider suicide."

Blood drained from Aamir's face as the doctor continued, "Oh yes, we know Mr Hassan. The scars on her back and on her limbs are quite obviously the result of abuse. I have shared this piece of information with the Inspector, but he says that only when Mayra gives her statement will he be able to arrest you."

"I..I"

"It is not of any concern to me, but we will follow the procedure. You may sit with her in the room, but a nurse will be there to monitor, to make sure that nobody gets to threaten Mayra, or try to change her mind about the truth. Good day, Mr Hassan." The doctor sneered and walked away, hoping that Aamir would be punished for each scar he had seen on Mayra's body.

Aamir wondered, as moved to join his family if this was how he would ultimately pay for his sins. He had hoped, ever since Mayra's surgery had been successful, that the testing period of their relationship would finally end. Little had he known that the two weeks of Mayra's near death experience hadn't been punishment enough.

Being jailed wasn't the problem. Being beaten up by policemen wasn't the issue too. In fact he would welcome it, as atonement for his many sins and injustices done to her. The problem was that he wouldn't be able to bear his beloved's pained eyes, when she would wake, accusing him of driving her to the brink of madness, eyes that told him that his torture had made her believe that death would be easier than living a life with a monster like him.

That he could not bear.

What would she say when she woke? That she hated him? That he was so barbaric, he didn't even need a reason to hurt her? That his family had been equally responsible for her pain? That she lived a life of a slave, her husband refused to acknowledge her as his wife? All because of a misunderstanding?

And what would he say to her?

How could you apologise for breaking someone's heart, over and over again? How could a small word 'sorry' suffice? If Mayra would have him arrested, when she would have him arrested, he would not even be able to see her, let alone go as far as to speak to her.

But the question was, would Mayra have him arrested?

"What's wrong Aamir?" His mother immediately stood up, noticing the pained and haunted expression on his face. "What did the doctor want?"

"They know, Mum." Aamir whispered.

"Know what?"

"Th.. That Mayra was.. "

"Was what?"

"A.. Abused."

"Oh my God! Does the Police know?" She asked horrified.

Aamir nodded his head, his mind racing through the possible consequences of this latest development. "They'll record Mayra's statement first. Only if she accuses me will they be able to conclude that my actions made her suicidal. I'd probably be arrested for domestic violence and abetting suicide."

"We'll tell Mayra not to.."

"We can't Mom." Aamir interrupted. "We're not allowed to speak to her until the police records her statement first."

Aamir sunk down onto the seat and mumbled gazing up at his family, "its all in Mayra's hand now. If she wants me punished, so be it. If I really did drive her to want end her life, then I should be punished. I'll gladly accept that punishment, if it does justice to her."

"But Bhai, it all comes down to the suicide part, doesn't it?" Zara asked. "We don't even know if she did want to die. Come on guys, it's Bhabhi we are talking about. She loved you, we all know that! Do you honestly believe that she would want to commit suicide when she was the one who nursed you back to health when you were paralysed? Bhabhi is stronger than that. You must have faith in her strength."

"Strength that I did everything to destroy?" Aamir scoffed. "I have no doubt she would want to punish me. All I want to know is, was she really psychologically so shaken that she refused to move away when the truck came at her?"

"Only Bhabhi can answer that." Said Khalid sadly.

Suddenly, it struck Aamir. Only Mayra could answer it. Only she would be able to tell if she was really having suicidal thoughts. Obviously she wouldn't have told anyone. Nobody would listen, but surely she would have written about it..

".. in her diary!" Aamir sprang to his feet at the startling realization, and ran to Mayra's room.

A nurse was already seated at the end of the room, eyeing him suspiciously. Ignoring her, he dragged a chair next to Mayra's bed and with her diary in his lap, he sat down. Gently, he took her frail hand in his and squeezed, trying to infuse his strength and warmth into her.

"Come back, sweetheart." He whispered, raising the back of her hand to his lips for a soft kiss. "I'm waiting for you, darling. Please come back."

Still holding her hand in his, and unwilling to let go of it, he started to read.

28th August, 2012

Dear Diary.

I hate Aamir. I hate him so much. He hurts me for no reason. He doesn't allow me to speak, he doesn't allow me raise my head. He didn't allow me to sleep on the bed or the couch, I had to make my bed on the floor and sleep on it.

Since the morning he has been shouting at me. Screaming for no reason. At breakfast, he called me stupid and a moron. All because I served him tea while he wanted coffee. As though I should've magically known his preference without him saying a word. Then he screamed at me for not getting his coat and briefcase from our room, again he hadn't said a word about it. As I ran to get it, he called me a 'useless mutt who can't run to save her life', Faizah and her sister laughed at me for the whole day for that.

Since he's been back, he has been constantly finding ways to hit me. A blow to the back of the head when I asked him if he wanted water, and a another blow to the head when I remained silent and didn't ask him for coffee. I don't know what to do. No matter what I do, or not do, he hits me all the same.

I hate him diary. He's a monster!

***

1st September, 2012.

Dear Diary,

I feel so lost and hopeless. I have no one to call my own. No one who even cares if I am alive and well. Not a single person cares to stop my brute of a husband when he is in his rage. He can kill me if he wants to, and no one will bat an eyelid.

My existence is meaningless.

I hate my parents. How can they do this to me? Am I not their child? Am I not their flesh and blood? Shouldn't they care if I'm being mercilessly beaten everyday?

No. They do not care. I do not matter to them. After Aamir finished hitting me tonight, I had to crawl over to the phone in the hallway to call my parents. Aamir would kill me if he got to know that I was alerting my parents. But today I realized that Aamir has nothing to fear. No one to fear.

My mother picked up the phone. I could hardly get my voice out because I was choking so badly and my tears would just not cease. By the time I managed to croak out a "M..m..mu..mum?" She had started her own rant.

"YOU FILTHY DISGRACE! We are through with you! Don't you bloody dare call here. EVER! Live or die, it is of no concern to us. You hear me? GO TO HELL!"

I never got around to telling her that I was in hell. Aamir was the demon keeping me. I crawled back to bed, crying. Today I felt like I was orphaned.

***

15th September, 2012.

Dear Diary.

I'll kill him! I can't take this anymore! He's a monster! A heartless, cruel monster! He should be hurt just the way he is hurting me. Only then will he understand how I feel.

He asked me to get his coffee. He drinks a mug of hot coffee every night after dinner as he works on his laptop. I make his coffee for him. He likes it hot, so I make sure it's searing hot. Just as it was today.

I have him his mug and turned away to get ready for bed. He took a sip, and called me, "Oh you, filthy useless, isn't my coffee supposed to be hot?"

I walked back to where he was standing, scared out of my mind, "I.. I made s..s..sure it's h..hot."

"Hot? This is hot?" He sneered. I missed the sarcasm in his voice. Stupid mistake.

"I..I'll heat it up for you," I said, reaching for the mug. His hand shot out as he grabbed my wrist and stuffed my hand in the hot coffee.

My hand was burning.

"Make sure I don't burn my tongue drinking this coffee next time." He said as calmly as he could, while I was screaming in pain. The hot liquid scalding my skin badly.

Aamir's dad ran into our room and pulled me away, cursing at Aamir. My hand is blistered now. Badly.

Now even the thought of anything warm scares the hell out of me.

Aamir strikes again.

***

2nd October, 2012.

Dear Diary.

I failed again diary. I really am hopeless. I should've done it today, but one look at Papa's face, and I can't!

Papa is the only one human in my life right now who actually cares if I'm okay or not. The only one who tries to protect me, care for me. He scolds me when I don't eat to my stomach full. He advises me on how to go about doing things in this house as everything is still new to me.

Then how can I punish him by having his son arrested?

I've had enough of Aamir's torture. I've had enough of his nonsense. And I'm not a helpless woman who he can treat the way he wants and get away with it. And if my parents won't help me then I'll help myself. I'll go to the cops and have them teach Aamir a lesson he will never forget.

But how can I do this to Papa. He already has ailments of the heart. What of he collapses when he hears the news that I threw his son on prison.

I'll loose the only person who cares for me. Then what will I be left with?

What do I do?

***

20th October, 2012.

Dear Diary,

I spent the entire evening looking at myself in the mirror and trying to find the truth in Aamir's words. Did I really look so badly that he had to be embarrassed of me?

His friends had invited him over for dinner and Papa had suggested that I go with him. Papa said that I should try to become a part of his life more. May be then he would appreciate me more.

While he was getting dressed I plucked up the courage to ask him. "May I come with you, please?"

"What did you say?" He said slowly turning away from the mirror to face me. The look of rage in his eyes had me cowering. Since the coffee incident and Papa's warning that he would disown Aamir, Aamir hadn't hit me. In stead he would degrade me with words as much as he could.

"I..I was wondering.. if..if I could co.. come with you. I'm ready. I won't ta..take any time."

Aamir looked at me from head to toe arrogantly before shooting me a look of disgust and saying, "I would've taken you, but my friends will ask me why such an ugly birch is tagging along with me."

He left and since then I'm stuck to the mirror wondering, am I really that ugly? Am I really that bad?

***

11th November, 2012.

Dear Diary.

Zara told me the most amazing thing today. A lot of things have suddenly started to make so much sense since Zara cleared that up. The way she mentioned it so randomly, at lunch when were alone, I kept staring at her for so long, unable to believe.

I had only known that Farha and Faiza were Aamir's first cousins. Their mom is Aamir's mom's sister. I had only assumed that it was the only relationship they shared. I was so shocked when Zara told me that Faiza wanted to marry Aamir for the longest time, but Aamir had refused saying that she was like Zara to him.

Finally I understood why the sisters, and their mom, are so mean to me. They always laugh at me whenever Aamir calls me a bad name, or does something to humiliate me. Papa has been very furious with them but probably didn't tell me anything because he didn't want me to feel bad.

I'm really confused if I should continue to ignore Faiza's tactics anymore, after I know this new information. She always does little things to draw Aamir's wrath at me. The other day she peppered Aamir's coffee and said that I had made it so it must've been me who did it. Aamir slapped me twice for that. But even if I tell Aamir, I don't know if he is going to beleve me.

I tried asking Aamir about Faiza's and him, and he only said, "that's none of your business bitch! Go get my coffee!"

***

18th November, 2012.

Dear Diary.

Tonight we were invited to a party at Aamir's office. He had to take me today. He didn't have a choice. I dressed up as best as I could. I wanted him to feel proud of me, not ashamed. Since morning I had been messing up my cupboard to look for the right dress to wear. Since the evening I had been dressing up, removing all make up to do it all over again till it looked perfect - neither over nor underdone.

Aamir and I left at eight. He was quiet in the car, when I asked him if I looked okay, he retorted that he was stuck with me now, that there was no way to change that 'miserable fact'. But I could not ignore the fact that he looked really handsome. He was wearing a black suit and had his hair styled and pushed back. I had no guts whatsoever to compliment him.

At the party, the guests were happy to see me. They said that they had kept asking Aamir to get me to meet them since our wedding, but Aamir kept telling them that I was busy after the wedding with parties and other stuff. I was nervous as usual to meet new people, but the fact that I was making Aamir proud kept me going.

Whenever I looked at him, he would be smiling and talking to his guests with ease. He really had a great smile. I grew angry with myself. This same polished, urbane man was the monster who abused me each night.

But somewhere in my heart, I hoped that one day, he would smile at me too.

***

31st December, 2012.

Dear Diary.

I had been planning for New Year's Eve since the night of Aamir's Office Party. I wanted to show him that I could be good company too. I cooked the perfect dinner, decorated our room with roses, candles and had dimmed the lights. I specifically picked out soft music to play while we ate.

I dressed with care, again. I really wanted to make an impression in Aamir's mind.

He came back, took one look at the room and at me. Then he started. He grabbed the plates and hurled them at the wall. Kicked at the flower vases. Swept everything off the table and onto the floor. Then in his fit of rage he came at me and fisted his hand in my hair.

"Who gave you permission to do this in my room, bitch?" he snarled in my face.

"N..No one." I croaked and he backhanded me across the face.

"You ugly filthy bitch. Dressed as a whore! Wanted to seduce me, did you?" He shouted throwing me on the floor with enough force to have my head hit the ground.

"N..No.. I.. I l..ove..you.. Aamir." I whimpered.

Suddenly he grew still. He stared at me for what seemed like endless minutes before saying, "What did you say?"

"Nothing!" I screamed as he charged at me.

He didn't listen after that. His hands, and legs spoke for him after that. And my cries answered.

***

13th February, 2013.

Dear Diary,

I want to die.

The last entry was four words. I want to die. Aamir turned the pages frantically looking for more, but that was it. Mayra had stopped writing after that. But what had panic running through his veins was not just the words that could prove that she was having suicidal thoughts but that these words had been written in blood. The page had blotches of red. Mayra's blood.

Suddenly the nurse shrieked and stood up. Numbly Aamir followed her gaze to Mayra's bed. Shock paralysed his body as he gazed at Mayra's face.

Mayra had finally opened her eyes.

****