A Battle Over Glasses
778Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxKeMjwIlEn
Hafsa sat cross-legged on the floor of the small living room, her voice trembling as she spoke, though she tried to keep it steady. Her parents were seated on the worn-out sofa, her father’s arms crossed, her mother’s eyes narrowing behind her glasses. Her aunty perched on the edge of a chair, chiming in now and then, while Hafsa’s younger brother fidgeted on the carpet, silently observing the brewing storm.
778Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHuqVNLJQGF
“I don’t understand why I can’t just pick a pair of glasses I like,” Hafsa began, clutching the corner of her dupatta tightly in her hands. “The ones you bought—they’re for old women! I’m the one wearing them, not you!”
778Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8H4pGjAgOr
Her mother sighed dramatically, exchanging a look with her sister. “See what I mean? This is exactly what I was talking about—she talks back so much these days!”
778Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWIb5sSxJSs
“I’m not talking back,” Hafsa said, her voice raising slightly despite her best efforts. “I’m just saying that I should get to choose something I have to wear every day. Is that so unreasonable?”
778Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmDFikqObIo
“Hafsa!” her father barked, his voice booming. “Watch your tone. You’re always so loud. Why can’t you just speak properly for once?”
778Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoe3zvaWJYj
“I am speaking properly!” Hafsa exclaimed, her frustration bubbling over. “But no matter what I say, you think I’m being disrespectful! I’m just asking for something simple. Why is it such a big deal?”
778Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡaGbK0gHUDr
Her aunty clicked her tongue, shaking her head. “You don’t understand, Hafsa. Your parents do everything for you, and this is how you repay them? By complaining? When we were your age, we wore whatever our parents gave us and didn’t dare question it!”
778Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡn6kXXmstjL
Hafsa turned to her, her hands shaking now. “But times are different! And I’m not trying to be ungrateful—I just don’t want to wear something that makes me feel… embarrassed.” Her voice cracked on the last word, but she refused to let herself cry.
778Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRfHZVX4gvX
Her brother, silent until now, suddenly spoke up. “She’s right, you know. Those glasses do look like something grandma would wear.”
778Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJjKWlQ9c24
The room went still for a moment, and Hafsa’s mother shot him a sharp glare. “Stay out of this, Rahi. You’re just making it worse.”
778Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGIEHM7RO3X
“But it’s true!” Rahi protested, shrugging. “She’s the one wearing them, so why not let her pick?”
778Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFDVzu0bN6Q
“Enough!” her father said, his tone final. “We already bought them. We’re not wasting more money just because she doesn’t like them.”
778Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmai5TyxCtt
Hafsa’s chest tightened. “It’s not about wasting money—it’s about how I feel. Why doesn’t that matter to you?”
778Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9OWWcsz0Bd
Her mother sighed, rubbing her temples. “You always make such a big deal out of everything, Hafsa. Why can’t you just be grateful? You’re impossible to deal with sometimes.”
778Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ44wSvBYWh7
The words stung, but Hafsa forced herself to stand her ground. “I am grateful. But why does being grateful mean I can’t have an opinion? Why does it mean I have to accept things that make me unhappy?”
778Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡP7fXZjbMmv
Her parents didn’t respond, but their disapproving silence was loud enough. Hafsa bit her lip, realizing that no matter how much she explained, they wouldn’t see her side.
778Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQRnnqyivc0
Her brother gave her a small, supportive smile, and for now, that was enough.
778Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzyhSqM4dt6
As she left the room, Hafsa whispered to herself, “Maybe someday they’ll understand.” But deep down, she wasn’t sure if they ever would.
ns216.73.217.114da2
and then Add to home screen.