Farida grew up on the foundation of differences.
Her brother Javed was mollycoddled while her fate was resigned to strict instructions.
He got to go to school while she was forced to help with the household.
He could play outdoors with his friends while she had to sit huddled with the women in the central courtyard of their house.
She could not raise a voice, nor her eyes.
Once, in the darkness of a dreaded night, Farida got groped.
Javed’s lascivious face in the flickering light was something she just could not cope.
Her pain, her anger, her suppression, her humiliation all snowballed into deliverance.
Every stab into Javed’s heart was met by her grave indifference.