Honour in His Eyes

  The glow in her eyes was to be the last he'd ever see. It was a glow only he could discern while others were greeted by emptiness. With his tender gaze fixed on her, he towered over the girl, the rest of the village surrounding him like a pack of wolves waiting for weak to fall.  Faint sounds of gossip poisoned the village air and pierced the man's heart as he watched his only daughter for the final time. He had his arms raised towards the sky, praying and hoping for a sign from God. 

 

    Suddenly, everything around him went into darkness. A delicate white light emerged from it. He started hearing voices that plagued his ears, reeking of a familiarity he could not remember. There were cries from a child. His child. It was clear to him that he was having a flashback to the day she was born, his beautiful Rayna. He was to love her and protect her like she was his honour. 

 

    A girl being born into the family was a sign of grave responsibility. Girls were supposed to grow up and become mothers and wifes, and the village made sure none went astray. The man held his daughter in the light of all purity. She was never to disrespect him or wound his image. He named her Rayna, for she was pure and devoid of all evils, evils that were soon to plague him and his family. 

 

    He thought of the days when he took her to school which was a small shed next to an old Sheesham tree. The walk was long and tedious. He would help her hop on the rocks when they would cross the river.  Someday's he'd carry her all the way so she wouldn't get tired. Leaving his little girl at her school was painful for him. On their way back, he'd carry her on his back, and together they'd disappear into the sunset, a 'loving' father and his nine- year old daughter. It wasn't right for a female to leave the house unaccompanied by a male guardian, so he made sure he was always there to protect her. 

 

    As Rayna grew older, the man became more solicitous of her character. He taught her the words of God and the conduct of pious women. The lessons lasted hours and eventually, she'd grow tired. But he did all this for her own good. He loved his only daughter. He wanted nothing but the protection of his daughter from worldly evils. 

 

    The man used to wait longingly for his daughter's wedding. The local Pir and his wife had already expressed their intent to wed her off to their son. Rayna was a beautiful girl with long dark brown hair and sun-kissed skin. Her hair was usually tied in a braid and adorned with pink and yellow flowers. A blue dupatta was always draped over her head and It flowed down her back like a little river.  The shimmering sound of the 'payal' around her ankles, kept ringing in his ears. It reminded him of her dancing to the beat of the Dhols. It reminded him of her breezing about in the village streets during the day, and it reminded him of the day he heard her........trying to elope the village with that disreputable boy, a boy with no wealth, land or respect.

 

    She claimed to have loved him. It was nothing but the jinns who had possessed her pure heart. It wasn't right for women to show affections of such sort. They were meant to show respect and obedience to the men who took care of them. The villagers believed that every woman carried with her, a force. This force was strong enough to protect an entire family. Weakening this force could bring unsurmountable disgrace, and that is exactly what happened to his Rayna. 

 

    Till the very end, he refused to listen to the villager's words. It wasn't her fault she fell into the trap. He kept telling himself that she was an innocent girl with a bewitched soul. He wanted nothing but peace for her, and peace for his and his family's dignity. She was his honour and that had now been damaged after the villagers caught her amidst her affair. 

 

    The little girl on his back, the pink and yellow flowers, the blue dupatta and the payal on her ankle were to become nothing but a memory as he raised his arms higher. He gave one last look into her helpless eyes, the innocent girl still trapped inside them. He could do nothing but set her free. And suddenly, he brought his arms down towards her. The knife in his hand pierced straight into her heart. The crowd went silent and all that could be heard were her mother's screams. The man smiled to himself. He had saved her but most importantly, he had saved his honour. The glow in her eyes slowly faded into darkness. The man stood up and looked down towards his lifeless daughter. It was the last time he’d ever have his honour shine in his eyes. 

Author's Note

Every year, 650 lose their lives under the name of honour killings in Pakistan. It is horrible how people in some parts of the world attach the word honour to women. This dangerous mindset and custom need to be abolished and awareness needs to be spread. The man in the story confused his honour as love.

Reviews

[Paul Bell]

Well done, Pia. This was one powerful write.
Honour killings have run through history.
Strange they still go on today.
Governments can wrap it up as honour killings.
It's just plain murder.

[pia]

Thank you so much!!

[Kibbles and Quips]

Oh, wow. I had an inkling that this was headed in that direction at first, but your descriptiveness immersed me and I forgot about it until the very end. Well done! I am glad you broached this subject, and broached it beautifully at that.
However, I do have a couple things to offer for consideration.

One, "'payal' around her ankles, kept wringing in his ears."
The word "wringing" (meaning to twist and squeeze to remove liquid) is a homophone for the word I believe you mean, "ringing," (to emit a resonant sound). Minor gripe, and I believe there are a few like yet sparse mistakes throughout, but I am sure you would have caught it eventually. I always make little mistakes like that. Just figured you might want to know.
Otherwise, I think that the "would" that is used throughout somewhat hinders the reader's emotional investment, purely by connotation. "Would" is typically used for a hypothetical or imagined scenario. I believe by switching to the pure past tense would be more concrete and evocative.

For instance, instead of saying," He would help her hop on the rocks when they would cross the river." It could be "He helped her hop on the rocks when they crossed the river."
However, I know it is a flashback and maybe a pure omission of the "would" would not feel right. So, maybe limiting their usage would be a good compromise; like removing one of the woulds in the same example, and changing the following verb's tense, "He [would] help[ed] her hop on the rocks when they [would] cross[ed] the river."
Anywho, that's just a thought! It's great as is, as well!

Thanks for sharing, Pia! I had a great time looking this over!

[pia]

hey!!! thank you for such a constructive review i did make some amendments. However, if u do feel i could improve more do inbox me suggestions !!

[alanwgraham]

Well done for tackling such a harrowing subject. The idea of honour killing will seem impossible to understand for your readers but understanding is always the first step to remedying some wrong. I must just say that your last line didn't feel quite right for me but perhaps it's just the difficult in getting my head round this concept.
It's good to see issues like this tacked here.
Regards,
Alan

[pia]

The last line meant to protray the girl as nothing but a mere object to him. Not a human or person with value but as his honour. She was never a person to him, but was his honour. Hence the honour in his eyes

[Coyote Poetry]

A wonderful and sad story written. You create strong characters and amazing story line. I like the realistic ending. Learning again. Something beautiful cannot be seen no-more. Thank you my friend for sharing the outstanding story.
Coyote

[pia]

You're welcome :)

[Einstein Noodle]

this is a story that needs to be told over and over until all such "religious" practices are seen for what they are .. when my own nation takes strong stands against such injustice and civil rights abuse i rejoice ... when Muslim Clerics disavow such brutality and ignorance and strike it from religion as barbaric and not meant for the lives of modern men and women .. in fact it never has ... Holy Books contain a lot of things that have been dropped from practice ... the one thing we know is that its God's own love that is what religion is .. nothing more ... Amen ... you are very courageous to write this story ..it is profound and should be published abroad the whole planet.
E.

[pia]

Thank you so much !!

[wordman]

this is a great story,i enjoyed it

[pia]

Thank you!!

[Farhan Shaikh]

Wonderful and powerful story.
Very well penned, I also like the name 'Rayna'.. amazing story..

[Shy Joe]

Tradition and control. It amazes me that people still let such beliefs dictate how we live. "Honour". It just seems to be makeup you wear for others. A copping mechanism for insecurities.

I don't know much on the subject though. Growing up and living in America all my life, I have not any experience with it. It definitely seems there are better ways to judge your life on though.

What I do know is you have written a great, descriptive, informative story. Really put into perspective how man can confuse love for their own beliefs. Maybe such a story as yours can alter the views of these confused people

Enjoyed your story. Thank you for sharing.

[pia]

Im glad you gave your input on this !

[dimz]

Powerful, and sick and tragic. I love your story, even though this leaves me feeling disturbed. It's horrifying that these attitudes and twisted ideals of women and "honour" continue to exist.
Your imagery is beautifully rendered.

[pia]

Thank you !!