By Asrar Amin
Tears of joy filled Halima Begum’s eyes as she watched her daughter, Maryam, walking down the aisle as a beautiful bride. The sight of her little girl stepping into a new life, with a man who promised to love and cherish her, brought emotions so overwhelming that Halima’s heart swelled with gratitude. She whispered silent prayers of thanks, her lips moving in sync with the rhythm of her heart.
For Halima, it wasn’t just about seeing Maryam marry. It was about seeing her marry Nauman, the man who seemed to complete her in every way. Nauman had been a constant presence in Maryam’s life even before their marriage, always making sure that she was happy and fulfilled. Whether it was buying her favorite clothes, taking her on surprise trips, or simply lending a patient ear after a long day, Nauman had proven to be a kind and loving partner. This filled Halima with immense pride, as she believed Maryam’s life had been blessed with the most ideal husband.
Halima and her husband, Rasheed Sahib, couldn’t contain their happiness. Every family gathering, every conversation with friends and relatives, revolved around the happiness of their daughter. “Nauman is not just a son-in-law,” Halima would say to anyone who would listen, “he’s like a gift from Allah. Our Maryam is so happy, like a queen in her own home.”
Nauman’s gestures of love and affection toward Maryam were endlessly praised. Relatives would visit and talk about how blessed Halima and Rasheed were to have found such a wonderful man for their daughter. Halima’s face would light up with pride every time she heard people praise Nauman. “When a son-in-law is this caring, a daughter’s life becomes full of joy,” she would say, often feeling as if her life’s biggest dream had come true.
Life moved forward with Maryam and Nauman happily settled into their married life. Halima and Rasheed would often visit them, marveling at how well Nauman took care of their daughter. They returned home with hearts brimming with satisfaction, confident that Maryam was living the life they had always envisioned for her.
A few years passed, and the time came for Halima’s son, Salman, to get married. When he introduced his fiancée, Saba, to his parents, they were delighted. Saba was a soft-spoken, well-mannered young woman, and Halima immediately liked her. The preparations for Salman’s wedding were filled with joy and excitement, much like Maryam’s had been. Halima was eager to welcome a new daughter into the family, believing that with Saba’s entry, their household would be complete.
After Salman and Saba’s wedding, everything seemed blissful at first. Salman, like Nauman, was a loving husband who cared deeply for his wife. He showered her with attention, bought her gifts, and made sure she never felt neglected. Whether it was planning surprise dinners or simply taking a walk together in the evening, Salman was dedicated to making Saba feel special.
At first, Halima was pleased. She would watch Salman and Saba share quiet moments of happiness and smile to herself, remembering how she had once witnessed the same love between Nauman and Maryam. But slowly, as time passed, Halima began to feel a strange discomfort growing within her. It wasn’t that Saba did anything wrong, nor did Salman. But each time Halima saw her son go out of his way to make Saba happy, a pang of unease tugged at her heart.
The feeling gnawed at her, confusing her. She had celebrated Nauman’s love for Maryam with such enthusiasm, but now, watching Salman shower the same care upon Saba, she felt… bitter. The more Salman showed affection for his wife, the more Halima felt sidelined. She often found herself thinking, “He only cares about Saba now. What about me? What about the rest of the family?”
The atmosphere at home began to change subtly. While outwardly everything seemed normal, Halima’s heart was filled with resentment. She would observe Salman helping Saba with household chores or surprising her with thoughtful gifts and feel as though she was losing her son. “He’s become a slave to her,” she began telling Rasheed Sahib, her words laced with frustration. “All he does is cater to her every need. What about us? What about his responsibilities to this family?”
Rasheed, being a quiet and introspective man, would listen to his wife’s complaints in silence. He understood her feelings, but he didn’t entirely agree with her perspective. “Isn’t this what we wanted for Salman?” he would gently ask. “We raised him to be a good husband, just like Nauman is to Maryam. Why is it wrong for him to care for his wife?”
But Halima couldn’t see it that way. She felt as though Saba had come between her and her son, that her place in Salman’s life had been taken by another woman. She would watch the two of them share a laugh or see Salman being extra attentive to Saba, and a deep sense of jealousy would rise within her. “He’s forgotten about us,” she would mutter to herself.
Soon, her frustrations spilled over into conversations with extended family. Whenever they visited or called, Halima couldn’t help but voice her grievances. “Salman has become blind to everything but his wife,” she would say. “He doesn’t care about his family anymore. He’s always running after Saba, doing whatever she asks. It’s like we don’t even exist to him now.”
Relatives, sensing her bitterness, would try to soothe her by saying that young couples often get engrossed in each other during the early years of marriage. But Halima was not comforted by their words. To her, it wasn’t just youthful affection—it was a betrayal of her place in Salman’s life.
Time passed, and the house, once filled with warmth and unity, began to feel cold and distant. Salman, oblivious to his mother’s growing resentment, continued to treat Saba with love and care. He often asked Halima if something was wrong, but she would brush off his concerns with a forced smile, hiding the storm brewing within her.
Rasheed Sahib, who had always been more detached from emotional matters, could not ignore the growing tension between his wife and their son. He watched Halima with a heavy heart, knowing that her pain stemmed from an irrational place, yet understanding that it was deeply real for her. “It’s strange,” he mused one evening, “how we celebrated the very same behavior in Nauman. You were so proud of him for treating Maryam well, but now, when Salman does the same for Saba, you’re hurt by it.”
Halima stared at him, her eyes brimming with tears she hadn’t realized were forming. “It’s different,” she whispered. “With Nauman, it felt like a blessing. But with Salman, it feels like… like I’m being left behind. Like I don’t matter anymore.”
Rasheed reached out, placing a comforting hand on hers. “Halima, love doesn’t diminish when shared. Salman still loves you, still respects you. But he also loves Saba, just as Nauman loves Maryam. You’ve seen how happy Maryam is. Don’t you want the same for Saba?”
Halima remained silent, the weight of his words sinking in. She knew, deep down, that he was right. She knew that her expectations were unfair, that she was holding her son to a different standard than she held her son-in-law. But knowing and accepting were two different things. Her heart was filled with a conflict she couldn’t resolve—a conflict between her desire for her son’s happiness and her longing to be the center of his world again.
As more time went by, the distance between Halima and Salman became more noticeable. Saba, sensitive to the changing dynamics, tried her best to win over her mother-in-law’s affection, but Halima remained distant. Every gesture of kindness from Saba felt like a reminder that Salman’s attentions were no longer solely hers.
One day, as Halima sat alone in her room, she picked up an old photograph of Maryam’s wedding day. Staring at her daughter’s radiant face, she remembered the pride and joy she had felt back then. “Why can’t I feel the same for Salman and Saba?” she asked herself. “Why does it hurt so much when it’s my son?”
The realization hit her hard. It wasn’t about Salman or Saba—it was about her own insecurities. She had always believed that as a mother, she deserved her son’s undivided love, and the moment that love was shared with someone else, she felt abandoned. But the truth was, Salman hadn’t abandoned her. He was simply living his life, balancing his love for his wife with his love for his family.
With a heavy sigh, Halima wiped away the tears that had fallen onto the photograph. She knew that if she didn’t let go of her resentment, she would lose not just her son’s closeness, but also the harmony of her family.
The next morning, Halima approached Salman and Saba as they sat at the breakfast table. Her heart pounded in her chest, but she forced herself to speak. “Salman, Saba… I’ve been wrong. I’ve been holding onto this jealousy, thinking that I was losing my son. But I see now that love isn’t something that’s taken away—it’s something that grows. I’m sorry if I’ve made things hard for you.”
Salman looked at his mother, surprised by her words, but relief washed over his face. He stood up and hugged her tightly. “Ammi
The author can be reached at (asraramin@gmail.com)
