My short story Made to Measure, is published at The Markaz Review.
These days you can’t trust anyone, most of all those who are closest to you, especially if you live in Lahore. Once you tell someone your secrets, they have a power over you, and even though they could be teasing when they say they could blackmail you, there is always the fear it could turn out to be true. Sometimes, even the most ordinary thing becomes the biggest fiasco and you’d wonder how it was even possible. Take the neighbors, for instance. No one could have ever predicted that Mrs. Musa, a simple woman, could end up in jail. According to Mrs. Musa, it had been a normal, everyday argument that evening when she’d said to her husband, “Swear on the Quran, that you’ll never hit me again.” The Quran had been lying on the table and he’d laughed and without thinking, he put his hand on it and said, “There you go, do you think that this will stop me doing what I want?” and in her anger, she’d picked up the holy book and hit him on the head, and the next thing she knew, her husband had gone down to the police station, complained that his wife had struck him and accused her of breaking the Blasphemy Law. The fact that he’d been drunk, and Mrs. Musa had explained her side of the story a dozen times, made no difference. She was charged with being a traitor of the faith, and a shameless woman. The police jeered at her, calling her “beshaaram,” and locked her up. No one in the neighborhood defended Mrs Musa or spoke up about how her husband used to regularly abuse and beat her. No one knew when or if she’d ever get a proper trial and no one really cared. …