Mubassira was despondent, she was lonely and downright sad, she was in love and and heading nowhere. Salman and Mubassira had been together for over five years, they had met when Mubassira was in college, Salman being ten years older than her. Those were heady days of romance, she fell in love with him straight away but they knew it was a dead end street, Salman was married with two kids. Mubassira stood there in front of the mirror, brushing her long hair, but she really was not concentrating, her thoughts were far away, at the day she had first met Salman. He was no playboy, nor a man of steel, it wasn't going to be a fairy tale he had told her, but when he started to talk it all fell into place for her. He was glib, suave and sophisticated all rolled into one. She couldn't believe she had met him after all these years of search, he had told her then that he was married but she didn't care too much then, she just wanted to listen to him and interact with him more. She could really begin to see her life falling into place with him around her.
Mubassira turned her thoughts to his present wife, Shakira, she had met her once or twice, very choosy and nit picking, she worked for a Non-Profit organisation that demanded her attention full time, and in any case she didn't have too much time for her husband. Mubassira knew she was much better placed to handle Salman than his wife, she knew him better than any woman had ever known him, she was no beauty queen, but Salman's love had made her blossom into one. The next few months would decide her fate, and she would fight for her love now. The brush turned out to be one with very sharp bristles, which was good because it allowed her scalp to be scratched deep, and her mind began to work. What did she have to do to marry Salman, she thought to herself. She was no home breaker and wouldn't be one now, but there must, be another way that she hadn't thought of. She looked at herself in the mirror, the more she looked at herself the more she believed that she looked like Kirstie Alley, that Hollywood movie actress, beautiful and earthy, a real woman.
She would make Salman meet her family, she mused to herself, make him at home and comfortable with them, her mother would be shocked but it had to be done, this fight she had to win. She sat down on the sofa and tried to be at ease with the idea and was surprised at how much pleasure this thought gave her. It was almost like her mind was in battle mode and churning up schemes. She would also insist on meeting Salman's parents, they were nice people she knew that, and then it was just a matter of time before they saw her for who she was. She had no pretense about her, there was nothing in this world that she wouldn't do to get her man and that was final.
Sometimes we subvert but mostly we are just that, students of moral sciences.
Mubassira turned her thoughts to his present wife, Shakira, she had met her once or twice, very choosy and nit picking, she worked for a Non-Profit organisation that demanded her attention full time, and in any case she didn't have too much time for her husband. Mubassira knew she was much better placed to handle Salman than his wife, she knew him better than any woman had ever known him, she was no beauty queen, but Salman's love had made her blossom into one. The next few months would decide her fate, and she would fight for her love now. The brush turned out to be one with very sharp bristles, which was good because it allowed her scalp to be scratched deep, and her mind began to work. What did she have to do to marry Salman, she thought to herself. She was no home breaker and wouldn't be one now, but there must, be another way that she hadn't thought of. She looked at herself in the mirror, the more she looked at herself the more she believed that she looked like Kirstie Alley, that Hollywood movie actress, beautiful and earthy, a real woman.
She would make Salman meet her family, she mused to herself, make him at home and comfortable with them, her mother would be shocked but it had to be done, this fight she had to win. She sat down on the sofa and tried to be at ease with the idea and was surprised at how much pleasure this thought gave her. It was almost like her mind was in battle mode and churning up schemes. She would also insist on meeting Salman's parents, they were nice people she knew that, and then it was just a matter of time before they saw her for who she was. She had no pretense about her, there was nothing in this world that she wouldn't do to get her man and that was final.
Sometimes we subvert but mostly we are just that, students of moral sciences.
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