*******

"So this is where we begin or end Mayra. Remove Mr Hassan and your family from your mind and answer me. Do you want to do this?"

"Yes."

Gaurav leaned back in his chair and regarded the quiet - and frankly scared - woman before him. He knew her readiness to open up to him now had come from a sudden spurt of long suppressed confidence and yet his experience in this profession had taught him that such confidence was impressive when it sprung, but was pitiably short-lived.

"So Mayra, how old are you?"

"Twenty-four."

"So you were twenty-two when you were married?"

"Almost twenty-two, the wedding was thirteen days before my birthday."

"Did you do something special for that birthday? It was after all your first birthday after marriage."

Mayra froze. She was instantly bombarded with the memories of that day. The way Zara had dragged her into the living room proclaiming that it was her birthday, the way her father-in-law had wished her and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, the way Faiza had looked at her with disgust and anger and the moment when Aamir had come back home. He grabbed her arm roughly and hauled her to their room. His words still pierced her heart.

You ugly bitch! How dare you! Stay away from my family! You worthless whore, I don't want to see your face! You're so ugly, so filthy! Just get out of my life!

Slap.

Mayra jerked at the memory and instinctively her hand rose to her cheek. The cheek that had remained bruised for a week after that powerful slap that had sent her flying to the floor. Aamir was a powerful man and he never realized how much force he used when he was beating her.

Mayra, on the other hand, was a light skinned delicate girl. Her skin always bruised easily and the purple blotches remained for days before healing. With Aamir they never had a chance to be fully gone because he always have her new ones before the old had healed.

Gaurav noticed her reactions and drew the conclusion that the mention of that particular day had triggered some really bad memories. It was a good thing, he thought. That way it would be easier for to vent it all out, even though it would be torturous for her to relive it all.

He thought about the direction in which he wanted to conduct this session. "Okay, never mind that. Let's talk about something else. What are your hobbies?"

Mayra, bringing her mind to the present, sighed, "I don't have any."

"Why not?"

Mayra didn't know how to answer that question. "I just.. I don't know, I just don't seem to enjoy anything anymore."

"I see," Gaurav nodded. "Has it always been the case that you found a lack of a hobby in you, or did that develop post your marriage to Mr Hassan?"

Mayra looked away, utterly ashamed. How could she say it? How could she tell the man what her marriage truly was like? How many more people were going to be out there in the world who would know the minute details of her life and know how big a failure she was? How many people would find themselves with the knowledge that she was an utter disaster when it came to being a wife? A disaster of a daughter? Of everything?

"Mayra," said Gaurav, his tone urging her to look at him. "You have absolutely no reason to feel ashamed. Whatever happened is none of my business. You are here to talk about it to make yourself feel better. I will not judge you based on whatever you tell me. I will not form opinions about you, I have no business in doing that! All I want to do is help you and the only way I can do that is by listening, non-judgementally to whatever you wish to share. But for that, you have to speak out!"

A tear rolled down her cheek. "I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because.. because you won't understand."

Gustav looked at her, confused. "Why not?"

"Because you don't know how it feels," she said, tears pouring rapidly out of her eyes. "You don't know how it feels when you are abandoned by your family who don't care whether you live or die. You don't know how it feels when the man you leave your parents for refuses to consider you a human being. You don't know how it feels when you get punched in the face and the black-eye stays for two months and the pain of it doesn't let you sleep at night. You don't know how it feels when a leather belt strikes your back and your flesh splits at the force of the impact. You don't know how it feels when you have high fever and severe body pains and your husband refuses to buy medicines for you because he doesn't acknowledge you as his wife. You don't know how it feels! Nobody knows! Nobody can understand! You can only pity me, feel sorry for me, but you can't understand!"

Mayra slumped forward in her chair and buried her face in her hands and cried. She had completely broken down into a torrent of sobs being mercilessly wrenched from her chest. As a psychologist it was important for Gaurav to remain detached but even he couldn't ignore the pain in his heart caused at the sight of such devastating despair sitting right in front of him.

He knew Aamir was watching. He knew that he was probably going insane at the sight of his wife crying and not knowing why. He looked over at the mirror where he knew Aamir was seated, probably glaring daggers at him, and he shook his head, slowly and deliberately.

Do not come in. Do not interrupt.

"Mayra, its ok. Please calm down. We can work this together. You can work yourself out of it. Out of whatever negativity you are feeling right now."

An odd laugh escaped her lips as she stared at the man before her and said, "that negativity, actually, is my whole life right now. How on earth do you expect me to escape that? And," she laughed, "I'm quite pathetic even when it comes to dying you know. I can't even pull that off. My death."

Freaking out at that particular statement, Gaurav immediately countered. "You can't be that way Mayra. You have a full life ahead of you. Is this how you wish to live it?"

"When did it ever matter what I wanted?" Mayra asked, tilting her head to the side and challenging Gaurav to answer. "When did it ever matter whether I was getting the fair end of the deal? Whatever happens, I'm the one who has to suffer."

"It can all change now." said Gaurav. "If you take charge of your life, if you define for yourself what is and what isn't acceptable, people around you will respect you and your boundaries. You, and you alone, can change it all."

"Nothing will change," said Mayra with conviction, looking away. "Things will always be the same. I'm not going to live a fool's hope that one day I will wake up to flowers and rainbows."

"You are already waking up to flowers and rainbows," Gaurav tried to remind her. "Aamir told me of how he decorated your room at the hospital and when you got back home. He's trying to make your life colourful and bright once more Mayra. Do you not wish to do the same?"

Mayra didn't respond to that. She didn't need to. Gaurav wouldn't understand, no one would.

"Please tell me what's going on in your head Mayra. You need to discuss things with me."

She looked at her hands, playing with her diamond, and said in a whisper, "sometimes, all you need is a smile to get your whole day going. A simple gesture that reassures you that someone cares. That you aren't all alone in this world. You don't need extravagant presents or over the top stuff. One heartfelt word or action is enough to give you hope for a lifetime. I have nothing to base my hopes on, nothing to tell myself that someone cares. I'm incapable of hoping anymore, actually. I can't believe that whatever people are doing for me is through a sense of love or compassion, and not out of guilt for the past."

Gaurav instantly realised what she meant. "So you think Aamir is doing whatever he is out of a sense of guilt, not out of love?"

Again, Mayra chose silence. She thought that that question was rhetorical, it needed no answer. Of course her family was acting out of guilt. All of them. Especially Aamir. He had the most to be guilty of.

For months on end she waited, desperately, for a single sign from him that showed her that he actually cared. That he didn't really hate her as much as he let on because she needed something to believe that at least eventually she would have her happiness. Her happily ever after.

But her Prince Charming wasn't interested. In fact her Prince had been anything but charming. He could hurt her to the point of physical brutality, curse her to the point of emotional vulnerability or ignore her to the point of insanity. And he had been good at them all. He used his methods of torture at her as fitted the circumstances but he used them well. She was a living proof of it.

She sat in the corner almost blending into the walls to escape notice as her husband, dressed in a perfectly tailored and highly expensive suit, strutted around greeting his acquaintances and behaving very much like the elite, urbane and successful man he was. She watched him as he stood, left hand in the pocket of his trousers, right hand holding his juice as he wouldn't drink alcohol, a bright smile on his face - he conversed with a group having his lawyer and his business partners.

A few of whom were women.

They were dressed beautiful gowns and artistically applied make-up. They behaved in the sophisticated way that was expected of them. They laughed with the men, joked around with them and looked completely at ease. Most importantly, the men looked at them with respect. These women were their equals, sometimes even their superiors. These women were everything she wasn't. The picture of perfection.

Mayra looked down at her own golden dress. She had been so happy with it when she dressed up to accompany her husband to this dinner. She had to make him proud after all. Now the dress felt dull, lacklustre. She looked around and found her own face gazing back at her from a far away mirror. She looked dull and lacklustre. No wonder Aamir dumped her at this table, ordered her to not move a muscle and left.

Tears burned her eyes as she gazed at her handsome husband. She was a shame to him. A failure. No wonder he didn't want to be seen with her. Who would? And why would they? What did she have to offer? What was she worth? Why would people care to listen to her? To look at her?

People would look at those women. Those smart, successful and sophisticated women who didn't bow down to pressure. Who wouldn't have let their parents force them into a marriage, or their husbands to abuse them. These were the women that men like Aamir deserved.

A thousand knives plunged in her heart when Aamir threw back his head and laughed at a joke that one of the women made. He smiled at her and she leaned closer to him, quite flirtatiously, and they both detached themselves from the group and continued to talk to each other. How she wished for her husband to smile like that at her. To listen so attentively when she spoke. To have such confidence to be able to look into his eyes. To joke! To feel his affection, his respect.

Tears flowed down her face and she silently wiped them.

How miserable was she. Sitting all alone in a corner, looking ugly and helpless. Such a waste of space. Not even worthy of being a trophy wife. Such an embarrassment for her husband.

And when Aamir looked her way when the woman asked him who she was, gave her a look of disgust and said, "nobody," her heart really shattered.

"Mayra?"

She looked up at Gaurav and in that moment she realised that whatever she had gone through was probably going to stay with her forever. Those memories would continue to haunt her. She sighed, "Yes?"

Gaurav sat up straight in his chair. "Lets play a game. Im sure you must've heard of it. I will name a few people and you have to describe them to me in whatever words strike your mind the moment you hear their name. No thinking. Give me instantaneous answers. Ok?"

She looked hesitant at first but then have a quick nod of her head.

"Great! Ok. First - Your Mother"

Mayra froze.

"Hey!" Gaurav protested. "Quick answers please!"

"Disappointed," whispered Mayra.

Gaurav found that to be an extremely unusual answer. "What do you mean? You are disappointed with her or is she disappointed with you?"

Mayra shrugged her shoulders telling him to take the answer either way.

Frowning, he continued. "Father."

"Same."

"Uh. Okay. Friends."

"An illusion you want to cling on to. Doesn't really exist." She answered dryly.

"Husband."

A pregnant pause followed after which Mayra uttered a single word that shattered all of Gaurav's hopes that her journey to recovery would be somehow easy.

"Master."

********