A tale of love, loss, and new beginnings.
Hareem wants to start over, Momin is stuck in the past. Can a newly wedded couple learn to love and accept one another while also dealing with an uncertain future and a haunting past?
Trigger warning: ptsd...
dedicated to everyone who has been kind to me and Woven
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Hareem knew that the green one was fresher compared to the yellow one—going off on her mother-in-law's advice. The riggles were uniform, bubbling and uneven under her touch.
She bit her lip, comparing both bittermelons before picking up the one that was fresh. She threw in a few more into the flimsy plastic bag before handing it to the vendor to weigh.
"Anything else, baji?" The vendor asked, giving back the bag.
"That's it, thank you," she whispered, exchanging cash before moving onto the next vendor in the Sunday market.
The hot June afternoon wasn't the best time to shop for groceries, but it was the only free time she had that day. With so much to do, she'd been running late from the second she had woken up.
"One kilo of fuji apples," she announced to the next vendor who sat with apples piled high. He sat in the middle like a king, proud of his polished, bright red fruits.
"Take two kilos, baji," the vendor insisted, already bagging the fruits.
Hareem pursed her lips in a tight line as she noticed the man's weathered hands pick up the red orbs; they were scarred, much like his face which held evidence of his hard life.
Over the years she had learned to firmly say no without any guilt, but that moment didn't require it. "Sure, go ahead." Buying more to help someone wouldn't lead to any harm.
A sigh left her mouth as she walked by a hawker selling potatoes, quickening her pace to reach the one selling onions. After picking up a week's worth of produce for the family, she needed to pick up her father-in-law's favorite fruit cake from the bakery and Momin's comforter from the dry-cleaner's, before getting home in time to cook dinner in her mother-in-law's absence.
Nearly two years had flown by living with Momin's family, yet some days she still needed her mother-in-law to assist her in housekeeping.
Warm sunlight bathed her as she stepped away from the large tent housing the Sunday market. The scent of roasting corn on the cob, sugar coated hard corn kernels, and salty scent of peanuts wafted through the air. The man selling those goodies stood near the long line of cars piled up in the sectioned off parking lot.
Hareem ran her eyes over the area, spotting her husband leaning against their car, chatting with someone on a donkey cart. A smile made its way to her lips.
