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By AnonymTehmina Durrani
Love's absence ailed me. I could not imagine loving my husband. He was a superior and I did not know how to love and be subservient together. Nor had he ever thought of me as a human being, let alone a woman. For no reason had he ever softened towards me, I had stirred him that little.
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By AnonymTehmina Durrani
To me, my husband was my son's murderer. He was also my daughter's molester. A parasite nibbling on the Holy Book, he was Lucifer, holding me by the throat and driving me to sin every night. He was Bhai's destroyer, Amma Sain's tormentor, Ma's humbler and the people's exploiter. He was the rapist of orphans and the fiend that fed on the weak. But over and above all this, he was known to be the man closest to Allah, the one who could reach Him and save us.
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By AnonymTehmina Durrani
Looking back, I realized that we were being raised to be schizophrenic; an appearance of perfection was more important than genuine feelings
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By AnonymTehmina Durrani
My mind became a sanctuary for secret thoughts of escaping from this household.
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