“Ugh! You’re always against me! When can I ever get what I ask you for? You always make the excuse that we have no money!” Ayesha storms off, slamming the door with all her might.

Looking at the slammed door in the room, Ayesha’s mother, Khadija, sits on a chair, miserable. A drop of tear escapes her eye, crossing her pale cheeks like a tiny glistering pearl.

There came a sudden knock on the door, timid and shaky, as if the person behind had barely found the courage to speak. “Ma-am?” the voice mutters in a trembling tone.

“Come in, come in,” replies Khadija, wiping her teary eyes.

“Ma’am, this might not be the right time to ask, but it’s a bit urgent. I was wondering if I could get a raise,” inquires the cleaning lady Bisma, her face anxious.

“Oh Bisma, this is certainly not the right time to ask. You know how I’m already facing many financial issues, and it would be challenging for me to cope with your request,” Khadija sighs. “Well, tell me then, how much of an increase do you want?”

“Umm, just about two thousand rupees?” Bisma responds, biting her lips.

“What! Two thousand rupees! That would be way too much for me right now. I am sorry, this is just not possible,” Khadija replies, her voice urgent.

“But ma’am, please, I need that money. My family is facing a lot of issues at home; we barely have enough to eat. If only you could reconsider,” Bisma urged, but then gets interrupted by a phone call.

“Oh no, it’s Hamza!” Khadija exclaims on seeing the name flashing on the phone, fear growing inside her. Slowly she picks up the phone and answers.

“Mrs Ali, I have still not received my loan back. I need to remind you that your time is up now and I need that money back, by hook or by crook,” says the voice on the phone call in a rather urgent and alarming tone.

“Yes Humza, I know, but I just need a little more time. I can’t manage it right now. Please, I beg you,” Khadija pleads in despair.

“Well then, you only have till the end of next month, and that is it. Make sure my money is returned on time now,” yells the caller.

“Yes, yes, thank you, Humza, thank you,” Khadija replies with a sigh of relief and ends the call. Khadija hurries to the kitchen, each step heavy with dread and weighed down by misery.

On the dining table, her youngest son is doing homework and spots his mother in despair. “What’s wrong, mum?” he inquires, curiously.

“Oh, Abdullah, it’s nothing important my dear. Tell me what you want to have for dinner?” she replies, trying to control her tears.

Khadija opens the fridge to look for some leftover dinner, but there was nothing except for a half loaf of mouldy bread and some old bananas. “Oh dear, we’re out of food,” she thinks, wondering what to make for dinner.

Just when the doorbell rings. Abdullah goes to check and returns with a large platter of food, surprising his mother.

“Mother, Mrs Afshan sent us some biryani,” he says, smiling from ear to ear.

“Oh Alhamdulillah, what a blessing,” remarks Khadija with a sigh of happiness.

“I’ll go call Ayesha,” says Abdullah, scampering into her room. His mother starts taking out the cutlery in the kitchen when a booming voice thunders in the house.

“What is your problem? Get out of here! I said I don’t want to eat, so leave me alone!”

Abdullah returns with a sad look on his face.

“It’s okay, dear, you sit and eat. She’ll come out eventually. This biryani is delicious, by the way,” she remarks.

After lunch, everyone prays and Abdullah goes into his mother’s room where she is going through some bills.

“Mum, Yasir’s mother will be coming to pick me up soon for my skateboarding competition, so I might be back by 8 or 9 pm, so please don’t be worried. I know you are already going through a lot and I don’t want to stress you out further, so I’m telling you beforehand,” he says, with a quick smile.

“Oh, yes, I almost forgot that, well I do hope you make me proud!” his mother replies with a warm, loving smile.

Khadija then gets busy with housework. As for Ayesha, she remains in a bad mood, with various thoughts going through her mind.

“Why is my life so miserable? Why only me?” she wonders. Feeling hungry, she decides to go look for something to eat, but falls when her foot tangles in the comforter she had thrown down in anger. Ayesha feels a sharp pain in her foot and cries, “Ah, my ankle! Mum, mum! Come quick!”

Khadija runs towards Ayesha’s room faster than the speed of light, a worried frown appears on her face.

“Oh dear, you have sprained your ankle. Bisma! Come here, please!” Khadija shouts.

Both women lift the girl and take her to their old, rusty car, with partially flat tires, parked outside. Khadija tries to start the car, but the engine remains silent. After a few more attempts, the engine gives a loud roar and they drive to the nearest hospital. Before they know it, Ayesha foot is covered in a plaster cast.

After paying the hospital bill, Khadija realises there is no money left and her payday is still a good couple of weeks away.

When they return home, Ayesha starts crying in pain and shame, “I am sorry mother for how I spoke to you and Abdullah, I guess I lost control over myself. Please forgive me. I assure you, you will not hear another complaint from me again!”

Mother comforts her with a tight, warm hug, “My dear, I had forgiven you way before, but I’m glad you learnt your lesson and apologised. I know I can’t give you everything you need, but I’m trying my best.” They both exchange smiles and hug.

Later in the evening, the sound of people outside caught their attention and soon the doorbell rings loudly. Upon opening the door, a strange sight greets them — a large crowd is outside and in the middle is Abdullah, being carried on his friends’ shoulders and everyone is congratulating him! He has won the skateboarding competition, and with that the Rs50,000 prize money!

Abdullah jumps down and runs towards his mother, giving her a tight hug. “Mum, I won 50 thousand rupees! Now you can pay your bills and….”

“Oh no dear, this money is all yours and you should use it the way you want,” says Khadija.

“It’s ours mum! Let me share some of your burden,” Abdullah says as they go inside to celebrate.

Published in Dawn, Young World, May 24th, 2025