Aisha woke up at 11 in the morning, the sunlight filtering weakly through the curtains. She hadn't even fully opened her eyes when her mother's sharp, angry voice pierced the quiet
"You're up? Already? Why so late? Don't you feel any shame? You do nothing for this house — just sleep all day. If I die, then you'll finally learn what it means to work. Every single task will fall on you. I have never seen such a shameless daughter. Honestly, it would be better if you didn't exist. You're a disgrace. A daughter who cannot understand her mother's pain will never understand anyone else's. When I am alive, live comfortably, but later… you'll regret every moment, you'll cry, and only then will you understand. Right now, it may not make sense, but one day it will.
Aisha said nothing. The words washed over her like cold rain, but they didn't touch her. She ignored her mother, moving mechanically to brush her teeth, then took a shower, feeling the water run over her as if it could somehow cleanse the weight she carried.
Finally, she came downstairs for breakfast, her expression unreadable, her heart heavy but silent, as if nothing anyone said could break the barrier she had built around herself.
Aisha sat down at the dining table, still quiet, still lost somewhere between anger and numbness. But the moment her eyes fell on the plate in front of her, she frowned.
"What is this?" she muttered, frustration rising in her voice. "Potato curry again? You know I don't like it."
Her mother immediately turned, her temper flaring like dry fire
"Then make it yourself if you don't like it! I'm not your servant!" she snapped. "You can't do anything, but you always have something to say. Just eat silently! You should be thankful there's even food on your plate. Later, you'll die of hunger when I'm gone — because you won't be able to do a single thing for yourself."
Her voice grew sharper with every word.
"You can't study properly, you can't work, and you're not even smart enough to manage yourself! What do you even care about? You just sleep all day, living as if the world owes you comfort. Enjoy it while it lasts — because all that's waiting for you is pain and regret!"
Aisha's patience finally broke. Her eyes glistened with anger as she stood up.
"Can you please stop?!" she shouted, her voice trembling. "I don't want to hear another word! And I don't want this food either. You eat it!"
Her mother scoffed, crossing her arms.
"Fine! Don't eat! Why should I care? It's useless to think about you. Let hunger teach you what I couldn't. Shameless girl… you never want to do anything, all you know is how to argue."
Aisha's throat burned, but she said nothing more. The silence that followed was heavier than all the shouting combined.
She pushed the chair back and stormed to her room.
Once the door shut behind her, the silence grew heavier. Her stomach grumbled loudly, reminding her that she hadn't eaten anything since last night. She whispered softly, "I'm hungry… what should I even eat? The whole day's already ruined."
Sighing, she picked up her phone and texted her boyfriend — "Mom yelled at me again. I didn't even eat anything."
After a few seconds, his reply came: "Then eat whatever's there."
Aisha frowned. "But I don't like it, yaar…" she typed back.
"Then make something yourself," he replied.
"I don't know how to cook," she said, frustration creeping in. "And even if I try, it'll take so long…"
That's when his message came — the one that stung.
"Seriously, Aisha… you're so dramatic. Your mom's right — you do nothing all day. Can't you help a little? You just sit and complain."
Her eyes welled up. She stared at the screen for a few seconds before typing back, her heart pounding.
"It's not like that, yaar. I know Mom has a lot to do. I really want to help her… I feel bad every single day that I can't. But when I try, it just doesn't work out. I even told her to hire a helper — we can afford it — but she never listens. I'm not lazy. I just… I don't know what's wrong with me. I want her to be happy, I really do. I feel guilty all the time, and it hurts that no one sees that."
There was a long pause. Then his last message came — short and distant.
"Okay. I'm going to eat now. Talk later."
That was it. No comfort, no care — just a plain goodbye.
Aisha's lips trembled. She put the phone aside and took a deep breath that broke midway. Everything inside her felt heavy — her hunger, her guilt, her loneliness. She reached for her earphones and played her favorite song, letting the music drown her thoughts.
Tears rolled down silently as she stared at the ceiling, wishing for peace — even just for a moment.
Aisha let the music play for a while, hoping it would soothe the headache slowly building behind her eyes. But the pain grew sharper, throbbing with every beat of her pulse. She hugged a pillow tightly, wishing for just a few moments of quiet and sleep.
No sooner had she closed her eyes than her sister Shaanvi barged in, phone in hand, screen glowing brightly, volume blasting. Aisha flinched, her chest tightening. Sleep fled immediately, replaced by a rising sense of panic. Her head throbbed harder, the dull ache turning into sharp jabs.
"Lower the volume… please. I need to sleep," Aisha whispered, trying to keep her voice calm.
Shaanvi smirked, not even glancing at her. "You just woke up, and now you want to sleep again? I am not lowering it for you."
Aisha's temper snapped. "Don't mess with my head! My head hurts, the noise is making it worse. Turn it down!"
Shaanvi rolled her eyes and laughed. "There's always some drama with you. If it's such a problem, go sleep in another room."
"Why should I go? It's too hot downstairs, and only this room's AC is on. Why should I move?" Aisha shot back, frustration dripping from every word.
"Fine, then don't go. Keep sleeping as usual — stop the theatrics," Shaanvi said, dismissing her entirely.
Aisha pressed the pillow against her ears, trying to block out the sound, but her chest tightened, and the headache throbbed even more violently. After a few moments of unbearable tension, she quietly got up and walked into another room. It was hotter there, but she had no other option. She lay down again, trying desperately to drift off, and finally, exhaustion claimed her, pulling her into restless sleep.
Her fragile peace was broken when her father's voice boomed from downstairs. "Who's sleeping in that room?"
"Aisha," her mother answered quietly.
Her father's words hit harder than the heat in the other room. "What kind of time is this to be sleeping? We spent so much money on her education — and for what? If we had spent that on ourselves, where would we be today? Maybe she shouldn't have studied at all. We were foolish to send her. She's shameless… sits around all day doing nothing. Find a groom for her, get her married, and be done with it. How long will we carry this burden? Who will look after her after marriage? Live your life or die — enough!"
Her mother tried to soften it. "Alright, come eat now."
Aisha's heart pounded. Anger, frustration, guilt, and helplessness collided inside her chest like storms. Her face burned, her hands trembled, but she said nothing. She clutched her phone, scrolling through it to escape the noise of their words, pretending not to listen. The mix of fury, humiliation, and helplessness twisted inside her — a quiet, burning ache no one could see.
After some time, Aisha's phone buzzed. It was a message from her boyfriend Rahul: Hey.
Aisha felt her chest tighten. Anger surged — he hadn't replied properly this morning and had just left. Still, almost automatically, she typed back: Hey.
How are you? came his reply.
Gritting her teeth, she typed sharply: What do you mean — how are you?
Rahul's next message was blunt: Now what happened?
Aisha's fingers trembled as she vented. You don't know. This morning I told you so much, yaar, and you left without saying anything. Do you even care?
Irritation seeped through his words. I don't know what to say to all this. I've told you a hundred times, you don't understand. You said something, I listened, end of the story. I can't reply to every single message. You're expecting too much.
Anger and hurt tangled together inside her. So because I wanted you to reply, I expected too much? she typed, her words breaking slightly. We shared our feelings. You could have said anything… anything at all.
Rahul's patience thinned. I can't do it. I don't know what to say. I can listen, that's all. If you want to stay with me, get used to this. I can't change overnight.
Aisha's chest ached, tears stinging her eyes. I needed you to say something… just anything. I needed support, Rahul! You don't even try… it hurts!
He typed sharply: I can't do this every day. I'm tired. You always have some tantrums. I have my life, my problems… I can't manage all this. You only think about yourself.
Her fingers shook as she read his next message: Fine. Then break up. You stay happy in your life, and I'll stay in mine.
Aisha's heart sank. It hurt so much, but deep down, she knew he would never be able to understand her completely. She didn't blame him, yet the loneliness pressed in on her chest like a heavy weight.
She typed slowly through tears: Fine. Break up then. We both can't understand each other anyway.
Rahul replied with a brief Yeah, and then went offline.
Aisha sat in her room, phone in hand, silent tears streaming down her face. She felt the sting of loss, the unfairness of it all, and the helplessness of being trapped in a situation she couldn't control. She hugged herself, letting the sobs shake her — alone, broken, and utterly exhausted.