After so much thought, sleepless nights and tormenting guilt, I have decided not to continue Mumtaz’s story. I understand the deep disappointment the readers will have, like unfinished business, you will wonder what would have been…. but please understand that this is something I am doing for myself! I am a woman too, with dreams and wishes.
I am avid reader, an addiction inherited from my mother, and my late grandfather. Read my grandfather’s story here. Now maybe you can understand this deep, almost desperate need for me to see my work in an actual paper-back. It is a dream I have had ever since I can remember. I always said one day, tomorrow, next year…. and then my one day came, and I began scribbling a few words in that notebook. I pushed myself day and in and day out, and felt a sense of self-guilt when I had no words and suffered writer’s block. And it took me FIVE years to complete it. To read it again and again, and change things and edit mistakes, and make sure the words flowed in exactly the right way. I sat into the wee hours of the night clicking away. Sometimes the words came by itself, at other times I felt as though I could bang my head and empty nut shells would fall out. But I persevered. I worked hard. I need, just for this one time, to be selfish. To accomplish my dream.
There were many times when I lost hope, I thought it was all rubbish. Who would read it? Who would believe that there are Muslim women out there getting abused? Who would think there are Muslims maids out there? It’s so cliche that a millionaire’s son fell in love with the maid. It’s all fake, it’s all dumb, it’s all childish….
And there were other times, when I would read my work as if someone else wrote it, with tears pouring down my cheeks. Who put these words in my heart? I’m not that intellect with her glasses perched on her nose, using words in clever circumstances. I doubted myself, I was proud of myself, I was scared of what people would think, I was excited when I shared Mumtaz’s story with a few close souls while I wrote. This has been a learning journey, I grew as much, if not more than Mumtaz!
I humbly apologise, Dear Readers! You guys have made this blog what it is! This blog s not not only about Mumtaz and her journey. It is about ALL women! The survivor! The Victim! The Mother! The Nurse! The Maid! The Teacher! The Intellectual! Ths is where we unite as one and just be ourselves. Of course, the men are welcome. To learn about us, to see the world through our eyes. We will help you understand why we cry, why we want chocolates and why we remain silent (if we can understand it ourselves).
On Monday I begin a new story. The story of Bilkis. A very naive, sheltered girl, whose breaking point is tested again and again. Bilkis’s journey is meant for my blog readers. We will all be travelling with her up the hill and back down and up again on the same pace. I will not know what is next much sooner than you will. If your heart is too broken and you are sorely disappointed in me, I understand, but please give Bilkis a chance…
Wish me well in my dreams for Mumtaz’s story. Pray and make dua that whatever is best for me Allah will hand to me.
P.s. If there are any women out there that would like to share their stories, please email me firstname.lastname@example.org
I will share one story with everyone every Saturday, the authors identity will not be revealed, and utmost discretion will be observed.