to take her luggage which she couldn't take it before. As she headed to the gate to leave, she bursted into tears. She squeezed hugged her Khala and cried on her shoulder.

"Khala, I never want to leave you," she sobbed. "You have given me so much love."

Yumna ran her hand on Zoha's back and said, "beta, I understand what you are going through. I am in place of your mother. What you have been through it's not easy."

"But why does it always happen to me?" Zoha met her watery eyes with Yumna. "Why does it always happen that people I love are always taken from me? Am I a bad luck? Am I being punished for one of my sins?"

"Nahi, beta." Yumna teared too. She wiped at Zoha's cheeks. "You are not a bad luck neither you are being punished for a sin."

"Then why?" Zoha asked.

Fariqa was standing by, looking solemn and little sad to see her beloved cousin leave once again, who was not only her cousin but also a good friend.

"Allah puts us in all kinds of situations. And he sees who is grateful of his blessings. This is all a test for you. One thing that everyone does when a calamity befalls them. They become hopeless and act like a disbeliever. You are indeed not going to do that. You will not give up and not be hopeless," Yumna told.

Zoha nodded, uncertain. She believed in what Yumna said. Adults were wise and they always spoke the truth.

"Good girl."

Zoha lastly mopped at her wet eyes lashes and sniffled her nose. "I will call you when I miss you. I don't know if I would feel comfortable without you and Fariqa."

"I will miss you too, mera bacha." Yumna planted a kiss on Zoha's forehead.

"I wish I had a sister or a brother to keep me company," Zoha said. "Loneliness bores me."

"Fariqa is your sister too." Yumna looked at Fariqa and Zoha, smiling. "Now she will come to me and talk about how she is missing you before going to sleep."

Fariqa tried to break the sadness on her face and came forth to hug Zoha.

"Zoha, you are a special person to me. I will miss you a lot," she said.

"Beta, Zoha is not going far away that you are exchanging your last words." Yumna lightly laughed.

As they stopped hugging, Zoha grabbed the luggage handle. She did not want to end up crying again.

"Khala, I have to go now. Sajjid baba is waiting for me outside."

"Yes, beta," Yumna said. She gave another kiss on Zoha's forehead and recited something mutely and blew it on her. "May Allah keep you safe and out of all of the troubles. If you ever get a chance, come and visit. It will make my day."

Zoha turned, pulling the luggage behind her. Once she was out the gate, she waved Allahhafiz to Yumna and Fariqa.

"Allahhafiz," Yumna said. Bit of sadness was visible in her eyes that she resisted showing.

Zoha smiled. It gave a soft glow to her face. She sat in the car and it drove her away.

Zoha placed the luggage against the dressing table and exhaled a sigh. She sniffed on the air that smelled sweet and familiar. She could feel her dadi around her like she was present, floating, invisible to Zoha's eyes. Zoha stood still and observed for a moment. Quietness accompanied her. She could sense it. Dadi's presence near her. It was unavoidable.

She immediately turned around, as if to catch someone who was prying on her. But she ended up seeing her own reflection in the mirror, half-horrified, half-puzzled. Her shoulders slumped, realizing there was no one beside her. She was alone as always.

She padded to the small shelf in her room and slid down the glass. There were collection of Islamic books that dadi left behind and a small glass piece of decoration which had Allah's ghar, surrounded by tiny buildings, a souvenir of Makkah Medina when dadi went on Haj years and years ago. It sat there, quietly, a statue of a beautiful memory. She took out the delicate thing and looked through it like she could peek into another world.

She felt dadi in everything. In her possessions, in her clothes, in bedsheets, covers, the rocking chair she often sat on. Dadi never truly left the room. She was always here. She watched Zoha, who wept and called her. Zoha yearned to see her once more to become alive and happy. But it was impossible. Just absolutely impossible, like asking for a star from the sky.

She caressed the solid piece, absorbing the beautiful feeling. She nearly went in trance imagining dadi with her, smiling sweetly as she always did and muttering humbly her words of prayers. The affection was so strong that she was resplendent in her angelic hues, floating away in a faraway heaven. Zoha reached for her hand but it slipped from the tip of her finger. Dadi appeared contend to be where she was and it seemed she wanted Zoha to stop crying for her.

But Zoha couldn't overcome that fact because of the loneliness that grew ever more intense. It was tough to pass a day not remembering the pleasant moments and everything dadi used to do. She just couldn't. She placed the souvenir in the shelf and slid the glass off. Then went to continue putting her clothes back in the closet. When she was done with it, she sat on the bed and breathed. She ran her hand towards the bedside and pulled open the drawer. A leather bound journal slept in there, untouched. Satisfaction crossed her heart. She took it out and pushed the drawer close.

Skimming through the yellowed pages, breeze blew on her. She had read half of it, while the rest of the story was told by Yumna. Zoha knew what exactly was written in there. Marriage and misery. A clock of bad time. The very essence of those events was pretty much alive today too. She could comprehend her mother's feelings more better than anyone else. It was as if they were the same people, together as one.

She flipped to the empty side of the journal, where blank lines stared back at her and bookmarked it with a leaf of paper. Then turned off the lights of the room and buried herself in the study room. There, she sat down at the desk, and placed the journal on the steady surface. It was a perfect environment to begin writing about what she was going through. The emotions were fresh. She needed nothing else, no one except herself.

Her fingers pressed around the body of the pen and she brought it close to the paper. Nervousness squirmed in her skin. The book in which she was going to write was her mother's first. Everything began with her. Then after a long time it was being owned by Zoha.

Zoha deeply breathed, preparing herself to write. It was not easy but she was doing it. And she told herself she had to. It was just somehow important.

The pen hit the paper again and she started:

I could never imagine that I could be part of this journal. It all began long time ago but I found this now in my own hands. It's hard to turn my feelings into words. I feel like I will stop breathing because it's too overwhelming for me. I can barely breathe. It's like someone's hands are on my mouth and I will faint...

She stopped. Her heartbeat staggered. She was panting like there was no oxygen. The pen dropped from her hand and she covered her face.

This was not happening. Maybe she was thinking too much. It was not as bad as she was making it. Control. She had to control herself. That's all. No one was seeing her feelings. They were hidden. Nobody knew they existed.

She picked the pen and took another shot.

It's just that it never happened. I never opened myself like this before. But, maybe I will get used to it.

Next paragraph. Shift in tone. She felt better after jotting down more words. Nervousness slowly diminished.

Life can sometimes take turns that one can never imagine. I could never think one morning I would wake up and find myself sleeping next to a beautiful person who had passed away even before my eyes were opened to greet her. My world was fallen apart. There was chaos everywhere. The earth was slipped from under my feet. I could see nothing beside darkness. I couldn't accept the fact that the person who raised me was gone far far away, never to show her face again.

Why does it happen? Why did she leave me? I questioned myself so many times. And like everytime there was no answer. I didn't want to believe in what happened. It was impossible. I was all alone. Torn apart.

Now it has been month since dadi passed away. She must be in heaven. I know Allah has chosen a beautiful place for her because of who she was. I miss her so much. Sometimes I can feel her around me. Her smell. Her sweet voice. They live inside of me. I am alive because of them. And nobody can take it from me. It's part of my soul.

Nobody in this family was as close to her as I was to her. Not even baray Abu though he was her son. I noticed no one cried like I did. It was as if I was the only one who lost her. Did no one love her? Did they not care about her? It hurts me to find Manal so heartless. She told me to go to Yumna khala's house because dadi was no more alive. Was this house never mine? Was I living here because of dadi? Was she the only person with whom I had a relationship?

I was deeply hurt as she tried to kick me out. I did not share this with anyone. No Bari ammi and Shehryaar with whom I am always nervous. I don't like when he comes closer to me. It's a wrong thing. But maybe dadi wouldn't have minded him because she loved him so much. She was really excited to meet him when he was coming to Pakistan. I couldn't predict she wouldn't be alive when he would come. I still remember her last words and in the circumstances she spoke to me. It feels like I just met her last night. Like we were on bed together, talking and happy.

Zoha paused and thought a little bit. She looked at the page filled with words. Words of emotions. Words of feelings. Words of thoughts. She couldn't believe what she wrote. It was the first time ever that she expressed herself through writing and it made her feel different. Different in a way that she was no more her old self, who was burdened with grief and pain. The sadness began to crawl out of her, leaving her body empty. She felt renewed.

A dull smile crossed her lips. For a moment she forgot she was in the study room. Seeing the journal she wanted to write more. It made her feel better, though it made her feel insecure before.

She held the pen properly and continued.

I can never forget all the time I spend with her. They were precious as gold. Even more precious. I see nothing like before. Life is meaningless and unkind to me. Bari ammi I used to know: caring and loving, is not like that now. I see an anger and hatred in her eyes. She does not even want to talk to me. I have barely spoken to her. I wonder what made her that way now. What have I done to her? Nothing. I know how much I respect her and make sure I don't hurt her. But she isn't different in any way. My kindness and love doesn't affect her. She thinks I am responsible for the argument between Manal and Shehryaar. She thinks I have done something to Shehryaar and there is an affair going on between us. I can never do that. I know how to keep a distance with him. Doesn't Bari ammi know I am not that type of girl. Maybe she does and she is doing this to hurt me and throw me out of the house because I am unneeded and known to seek attention of baray Abu and Shehryaar.

But I don't do that on purpose. I just want to be part of this family. And that is aggravating Manal. She passionately hates me. She makes me cry everytime she sees me alone so she doesn't get in trouble by Shehryaar. She insulted me terribly with Faiza, who is her best cousin ever. Just then I thought I would leave this house and never come back to get insulted again. I have tolerated enough. But just in two days Shehryaar brought me back. Why did he do that? If he doesn't want me to be hurt then why did he bring me back? What is going on in his mind?

Zoha relaxed. Her fingers began to hurt. She slipped back to the page where she started writing in the journal. Just in a small time she wrote so much that it was hard for her to believe. All these things she said in the journal were in her an unspoken heart. She realized keeping things inside and not letting them out made her coward and scared. The fear lurked in her chest. It made her feeble.

It surprised her that that she felt relieved. Her body felt light as cloud. The burden wore off. An open space gave way inside her. She realized how the air, mounted with tension, turned weightless like spring breeze. She could breathe freely. Her feelings were secured. Nobody could see them except her.

She closed the ancient journal, pages old as earth. And clicked her pen. She was satisfied. Her mind got off the sad thoughts. It sent her a pulse of strength. She took out her assignment papers and the recent project. There was a lot of work to do. She was determined to complete half of her project so the next day she didn't have double things to do. Her life would have been much easier.

As she was busily engaged in her work, Manal barged into the room, unstoppably mad. Fierceness sharpened her gaze at Zoha. Zoha was taken aback, seeing her suddenly. She got up from the chair and stood upright behind the desk.

Manal took a step forward, not taking her eyes off Zoha. Silence grew tense and neither of them spoke.

"How did you come in like this?" Zoha said. She narrowly examined Manal's intention in her glaring look.

"Shut up," Manal tersely said.

"Excuse me?"

"Don't throw your dialogues at me. I have seen you enough." She sharply pointed her finger at Zoha. "You will not get out of the house like this. I have never seen such a nasty, disgusting person like you, so stubborn over someone's property."

"Manal, watch your tongue." Zoha immediately said it on her face.

"No wonder where your confidence came from. You played a very cunning trick on Shehryaar bhai to get him towards you. There is no doubt of your success. It must have been really easy for you to act innocent, poor girl."

"It's really sad to know how narrow-minded you are." Zoha was poise and self-reliant. Manal's words had no impact on her now. Zoha had seen enough of Manal too.

"You have shown how powerful you are. Now I am going to show you how powerful I am. Up till now you have only seen my bad side, not the worst."

"If you have even a little kindness you would think before you act."

"Kindness for you? Never. Impossible. Don't expect it from me." Manal spat her anger.

Zoha watched Manal, then sat down in her chair. She picked her pen and continued working. Manal's presence was hard to ignore but Zoha controlled herself. She told her she could do it. Manal was capable of doing anything and there was no surprise she would. But Zoha had to believe in herself.

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Hey beautiful readers,

Finally the chapter is out. I know it's kind of smaller. Sorry I had no time at all. Be happy that I wrote this and was able to publish it in bits of time I got. I know I always talk about time constraint. Well anyways.

So what do you think Manal will do this time? Is she really capable of doing something the way she threatened Zoha?

This chapter was indeed smaller, but really important part of the story. I used the title of the book too and there is no surprise it is the title of the story because I kept it for a reason. It must have been a great deal for Zoha to write in her mother's journal and write down her journey and experiences. Now you have narration of Zoha's personal point of view. She questions so many things and throughout the story they will be answered.

Hope you really enjoyed reading this chapter and please comment and hit vote to show your support as you have been and make my day. Thanks a lot.

Also thanks to Unique_Niqabi for creating the book cover for me. Love you dear.