Silent Bonds, Shattered Ties

Nazir and Mymoona lived a modest life in a small village with their two children, Rifat and Adil. Despite financial challenges, Nazir worked tirelessly to provide for his family, fostering a home filled with love and unity. Rifat, the elder sibling, adored her younger brother and took great care of him. When Adil had a minor accident as a child while their parents were away, Rifat ran barefoot to their neighbor's house for help, cradling and nursing him with the care of a mother.

Nazir deeply cherished his daughter. If she asked for one hundred rupees, he would give her two hundred. One Eid, while everyone was shopping, Rifat decided to forgo her wish for a new dress and instead bought a table fan for her parents, carefully selecting a beautiful netted cover to go with it. Her selflessness extended to her brother, too. Whenever Nazir took her out for a treat, she would secretly save part of her meal for Adil. She arranged his school uniforms, prepared his timetable, and even fed him while he slept.

As they grew older, Rifat and Adil both completed their post-graduations, Rifat studying in distance mode to balance her domestic responsibilities. Adil became a bank associate, and Rifat eventually got married. It was a bittersweet moment for the family, especially for Nazir, who missed her dearly. He would often call out her name, a habit born of years spent cherishing his beloved daughter.

However, Rifat's married life was anything but happy. Her husband, though educated, was controlling and abusive, obsessed with the idea of having a son. At night, he would scan her ultrasound reports with a torch, desperately seeking confirmation of a male child. But destiny had other plans. Rifat gave birth to twin daughters, and the emotional abuse from her husband and in-laws escalated. Meanwhile, Nazir grew old and frail, desperately seeking justice for his daughter. He begged Rifat's husband to treat her with kindness, even putting his cap at his feet in submission, but his pleas fell on deaf ears.

As time passed, Adil married Shafia, a working woman. At first, everything seemed fine, but soon, Shafia's attitude towards Rifat shifted. Whenever Rifat visited her parental home, Shafia became irritated. Even during Nazir's critical illness, when Rifat spent sleepless nights on the cold hospital floor caring for him, Shafia didn't extend a helping hand. Nazir eventually passed away, holding Rifat's hand in his final moments.

After Nazir's death, the cracks in the family became more visible. Shafia bundled up Nazir’s belongings, including the fan Rifat had bought during her childhood, and gave them to a grave-digger without a second thought. Rifat stood by in silence, her heart breaking as she watched.

Shafia's hostility towards Rifat grew worse. On one Eid, Adil gave some money to his niece, which enraged Shafia, spoiling the occasion with her erratic outbursts. In another instance, their daughter Maryam accidentally spilled juice in Adil’s new car. Shafia's response was to drag the little girl out of the car and push her to the ground. Rifat, seeing her child’s distress, chose not to speak out, fearing it would only cause further conflict. These small, cruel moments began to pile up, but Rifat bore them all quietly.

Over time, Shafia became increasingly vocal about her dislike for Rifat, calling her a burden during her visits. Adil, once the brother who Rifat had protected fiercely, chose to remain silent, failing to defend his sister. The bond between them, once unbreakable, now hung by a thread. Rifat stopped visiting as frequently, heartbroken by her brother’s indifference.

Years passed, and Rifat's suffering continued. Her husband’s abuse worsened, but with no one to turn to, she kept her pain hidden, never wanting to trouble anyone. Then, one cold winter morning, Adil received devastating news—Rifat had passed away after falling ill, with no one to care for her. The guilt Adil had suppressed for so long overwhelmed him. He had been absent from his sister's life, allowing his wife’s jealousy and his own inaction to tear them apart.

At Rifat’s funeral, Adil felt like a stranger in his own family. As he sat beside her body, the weight of his failures crushed him. He whispered a hollow apology, but it was too late. The sister who had once nurtured him, who had stood by him through everything, was gone. He had lost the chance to make things right.

Adil’s life was never the same after Rifat's death. Haunted by memories of her kindness and suffering, he visited her grave often, seeking forgiveness that could never be spoken. The silence that had once torn them apart now lingered in the stillness of the graveyard, a painful reminder of the love they had shared—and the silence that had destroyed it. Though their bond had been severed in life, Adil carried the weight of his sister’s love and his own regret with him always.