Both of Mirha’s parents were watching her at the dining table as she stared blankly at her plate, not having taken a single bite of her food.

“What happened, Mirha? You haven’t eaten anything since the afternoon, and now you’re still not having your meal.”

Mirha came out of her thoughts at her mother’s voice and tried to act normal.

“Um… yes, Mama, I’m having it,” Mirha said, taking her first bite.

“Is there any problem?” asked her father. “You can tell us freely if there is, my child.”

“No, Baba, I’m fine. I’m just not hungry,” she tried to handle the situation.

When someone wrongs us, it feels tempting to give them a taste of their own medicine. Mirha tried to do that, but soon realised that revenge doesn’t bring peace — honesty and kindness do

But her parents could clearly see the confusion and worry on her face. They couldn’t tell if it was due to study stress or something else troubling her.

Once she was done with her dinner, she got up and slowly walked into her room. She took a notebook out of her bag and looked at the name written on it: Amal Saeed. She placed it on her side table, sat on her bed, buried her face in her hands and started crying.

“This is not you, Mirha. This is not you. How can you do this? How?” she wept, speaking to herself.

Mirha’s mother remained concerned, for she knew her daughter very well and could sense something was wrong. So she walked towards Mirha’s room, gently knocked on the door and stepped inside.

Mirha sat up straight and quickly wiped her tears. “Wh… what happened, Mama?” she asked, her eyes swollen and red.

Her mother sat beside her and looked at her frazzled face. “You can’t hide your problems from your parents, even if you try. Trust me, you’ll feel better once you talk about what’s been troubling you,” her mother said gently.

Mirha knew that making excuses wouldn’t convince her. So, she gathered the courage to speak the truth.

“Mama, do you remember Amal?”

“Amal? Your classmate?” her mother asked.

“Yes… my classmate,” she paused, then continued, her voice trembling. “Mama, Amal hid my science notebook before the test last week. Miss Sana had so many expectations from me, but….” Mirha tried to hold back her tears.

“But I couldn’t do well in the test, just because I couldn’t find my notebook two days before the test. Amal took it, Mama. Sidra told me everything yesterday,” she explained and then broke down, sobbing once more.

“Oh, so you’re crying because you could not get good marks in the science test?” her mother tried to predict.

“N… no, Mama. I’m tense because I did the same to her this time. I took her English notebook today,” Mirha confessed, her voice shaking. She thought her mother would scold her for this, but instead, she continued to listen calmly.

“So why are you crying now?” her mother asked, looking deeply into her eyes.

“Because I’m not happy with what I have done, Mama. Never in my life did I think I’d steal someone’s things. I feel ashamed… this… this doesn’t make me happy. This is not who I am,” Mirha admitted, tears welling up again.

“Now that makes sense, and you’ve already found your answer,” her mother replied gently.

“But Mama, if we always forgive wrongdoers, how will they ever be punished?” Mirha asked.

“My dear, everyone eventually faces the consequences of their good and bad deeds. Your job is to do what’s right and leave the rest to God. And remember, sometimes silence is the best revenge,” Mirha’s mother explained.

“What we need to do is show kindness, not for others, but for ourselves. It’s how we protect our hearts from turning bitter,” her mother explained softly.

Mirha took a deep breath and felt a wave of relief. Brightening up a little, she said, “I understand now. I know what I did was wrong, but I still have a chance to make it right. I’ll return her notebook tomorrow. Our English paper is the last one, next week, so it won’t affect her preparation.”

“I’m proud of you, my baby,” her mother said with a satisfied smile and hugged her.

The next day, after the bell rang for recess and students started leaving the classroom, Amal was heading out when Mirha called out to her.

“Am… Amal!”

“What?” Amal replied rudely, still seeing Mirha as her competitor.

“Um…” Mirha hesitated. She looked at the notebook in her hands, then silently extended it toward Amal. “I’m sorry. I got angry when I found out that you hid my notebook before the test last week, and I tried to do the same… but I just couldn’t. I’m sorry, Amal,” Mirha said softly.

With that, she turned and began to walk out of the classroom.

Amal stood there, dumbfounded.

“Listen, Mirha… why return it now?” she asked.

“Because my conscience didn’t allow me to keep your notebook like you kept mine. It didn’t feel right to me because I’m not like that,” Mirha replied, turning slightly. “And now that I’ve returned it, I feel light… calm. I truly apologise.”

Amal felt ashamed. She was speechless, torn between guilt and realisation. She wanted to, but couldn’t find the words to say she was sorry, and there was no chance left to undo what she had done.

Published in Dawn, Young World, September 13th, 2025