Devil's Gift

0 Replies



As he came close to me I closed my eyes. The bruises in my heart ached more than the bruises and swellings on my beaten body. How could he? My weeping heart questioned with disgust. Yet I didn’t want the Shaitan in me to rise. I squeezed my mind’s eye to block anything from streaming in. As his hands reached out to touch me, I felt a shiver running through my spine. I bit my lips painfully. The usual odour forced me to pinch my nose shut. I was grateful for it was dark and nothing else was visible.


The Prophet (PBUH) said, “None of you should flog his wife as he flogs a slave and then have sexual intercourse with her in the last part of the day.”
Sahih Bukhari, Volume 7, Book 62, Number 132:
Narrated ‘Abdullah bin Zam’a:


“What have you brought with you except for the miseries?”
He barked at me and before I could dodge it, the hot tea bathed my face. For a few seconds I couldn’t open my eyes. Not because of the smarting eyes but because of the shock as I stood there, frozen, in front of him. Not a few hours ago he had apologized and whispered words of love. Knowing him, I had two thoughts. Yet, not wanting to disobey him I had gone to him convincing my mind as I had always done. Wasn’t that the result of bearing three kids? My soul mocked at me. A big tear drop rolled along with the streaking sticky tea. I looked frightened; I knew it for I could hear my heart rapidly beating. I tilted my head slightly to find my three kids not more than seven gaping at us with fright. I felt not sorry for me but for the innocent souls watching me.
“Your cunning father cheated me, dumping a worthless filthy woman on me!”
He screamed at me. What have I done? He threw the morning news paper to my face as the headline was something bad about me, yet I realized what it probably might be. He had been wrongly betting the previous evening.I wiped my face from the cloth I had wrapped around my head. Isn’t this the way he greets me most of the mornings? I tried to smile to myself.


“Ruined my child’s fate, you wretched woman!”
I stared back at the woman barking at me. Her nose flared just like the man who was lying on the bed- the sick bed! I took a deep breath and walked close to him. The bowl I was holding was hot and spicy. The anger in me forced me to throw the soup at either of them for ruining my life for more than half a decade. Yet the patience in me tamed the blazing anger. I helped him to lean on the head rest. I sat beside him and without another word I fed him. Drunk, he had been as always, when he crashed into a container lorry. I was thankful to Allah for his unsteady mind and the bicycle that had not harmed an innocent soul. Instead, my husband had lost his left leg. Sadness crept as the innocent faces of my children were remembered. Yet, he had never been a father who thought of their future. All what he had done throughout this time was torturing me for the dowry he and his family had expected when he had tied the knot with me. My father, only a farmer had been sweating throughout his life to feed my greedy husband and his family. Still they never stopped torturing me. Instead of souvenirs for love I had plenty of scars on my body. His whipping and kicking had left several scars in life which could not be erased either from my body or my soul. Seeing his bandaged knee I felt sorry for my father, who will have to feed the five of us in future. Throughout my life I’ve been a burden for him and never a day he had been treated well by the family I’ve been given to.
“This is your fate son…this is your fate…from the day she entered your life you lost the best in your life!”His mother mourned while stroking his hair. I could not avoid glaring at her angrily. She stared back at me mirroring my expression.
“He became a drunkard because of you…he lost his dignity…he lost his job…now a foot…God knows what else he would lose being with you!” she said querulously.
“Oh! Really? I have no objection…carry him home mother…any way…it was my father who spent for my children…so nothing would change!” I snapped back angrily.
My husband looked at me, shocked. I swallowed a bit of saliva with mixed emotions. His eyes for the very first time looked at me as he was begging for my protection. A sudden thought of kicking him on his teeth rushed in. I could feel the boiling blood rushing towards my cheeks.
“Wish I could kick back everything I got all these years…!”
I said angrily and dashed the bowl of remaining soup on the nearest table and stomped out of the room.


I patiently watched the man seated a few feet away from me, his crutches leaning against the wall. A blend of emotions swirled in me. My heart was partially happy as I was avenging the man who sat helplessly lost in words to utter. The other part of me was feeling sorry for him, my children and myself. Although I wanted to speak, I kept quiet letting him speak, even today. When he had been physically strong and healthy he had never made me a part of his decisions. But destiny had changed. For the past thirteen years I was feeding my family including him. I worked to serve my family. My children had grown and he had been changed in this passage of time. Yet the scars in me were there, as they always will be.
“My daughter is selected to the university…” His voice slightly trembled. ‘So was I…’ my inner mind whispered. The woman he spoke at smiled, her smile was mocking his speech.
“My son is a manager of a big company…thousands might queue with millions in their bank accounts if he wished…but this has been his choice…” she said with pride but her voice was hinting at something else. The past was repeating, someone above my head whispered. He, my husband looked at me with worried eyes.
“My wife is the one who earns…I’ve nothing much to gift my daughter except love.”
‘So my father was too…’
“My son has everything…he’s busy these days getting ready for a promotion…he has to spend for his further education…if not he might have built his own house…” she said. My husband stared at me once again. I smiled as that was the only thing I could return to him after all these years. But my mind whispered the very same thing.‘Wasn’t this the very same way your mother demanded for dowry?’
“My other two children are schooling. This is not our own house…I’m sorry sister, but I have nothing to gift my child except good behavior and character.”
‘So I had them too.’
A sardonic smile dangled in the corner of my lips.
“If that is the final word…then I’m sorry we can’t agree to this marriage!”
She snapped angrily and rose up on her fat feet. At that very same time, her son walked into the hall joining us.
“What is it, Mom? He asked, trying to figure out why his mother had stood up trying to leave the house without even touching a glass of water. The delicious short eats and sweets were left on the table untouched. My eyes grew damp as I peeped in to the house and met my daughter’s nervous , equally damp eyes.
“Ehm…nothing! Let’s go!”she said, first staring at my husband and then at me and then her son. The young man took a deep breath. I saw my husband’s beaten expressions. Wasn’t that the very same way my poor father had looked decades ago? Had you shown mercy for that poor old soul?
“Is this abrupt departure regarding the gift mom? the young man voiced, understanding his mother perfectly. His mother bit a corner of her hanging lip. He shook his head several times with a sardonic smile.
“I marry her, not the gift mom!
‘‘Why couldn’t you mutter those words?’ my mind whispered painfully looking at both the men in my tiny hall. One raised his head up with dignity; the other lowered his gaze with shame.
“Let’s go home to discuss!” she spat, tearing her eyes away from me.
“Let me make it clear, it is the man, I, who should give a gift for my bride not the other way…don’t earn Allah’s wrath.” The young but deep voice said firmly.
The last sentence made me sneak a glance at my husband. I saw his trembling fingers move over his short limb. A tear gathered and rolled down without waiting for my will.
The ladder to success and a luxurious life is surely not the Dowry, my sobbing soul whispered. Happiness cherished in my beaten heart for my innocent child, yet deep down in my heart I heard a cry for myself for the sufferings I went through the best time of my life. Still, I understand that it’s what was destined and my patience and my faith in Allah has taught me to forgive those who had crucially hurt me for He is the Supreme Judge.
With the dowry – the Devil’s Gift- how many lives have been ruined?
I sighed painfully and silently whispered a prayer that no one should witness harshness in life as those who had gone through because of the forced gift, and may those who demand for it realized that they are demanding for the Fire, Unseen yet.


The Mahr (Dowry)
The mahr (dowry) is something that is paid by the man to his wife. It is paid to the wife and to her only as an honor and a respect given to her and to show that he has a serious desire to marry her and is not simply entering into the marriage contract without any sense of responsibility and obligation or effort on his part.

Allah says in the Qur’an:
“And give the women their dowries with a good heart…” [Noble Quran 4:4]

This verse is addressed to either the husbands or the guardians. It is addressed to the husbands because it is their responsibility to pay the dowry. It could also be addressed to the guardians, not because they have to pay the dowry, but because in pre-Islamic jahiliya (and in much of today’s “post-Islamic” jahiliya), they used to take the dowry of the women and not give it to them. This verse shows that the dowry must be given to the women and not kept by the guardians.

Reference :

She isn’t married yet!Let Me Bloom

Share Your Thoughts

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *