Complain

I’m on a, “Yes Sir! Contract” I can’t express. That’s me. Been married for 14+ years struggling to make my spouse understand me, but irony has me struggled. A word out of my mouth is nothing, but complain. Strange ain’t it. I stay without him most of the month, managing my odds. BUT I COMPLAIN. 

I can’t drive, but I complain. 

I’m not allowed to go for shopping with friends, but I complain. 

I’m not allowed to go to Pakistan to my family, but I complain. 

I’m made to attend school in Pakistan that’s two  hours time difference from here, but I complain 

Maybe, I’m still getting used to the concept of at least. 

At least, I am alive, and I don’t have any serious illness.

At least, I have a roof above my head, and I am not left on the streets to die.

At least, he earns, and is not dependent on me. 

At least, I have kids, and that too both genders in breed.

At least, I have friends, and can socialize. I’m not alone when he’s not around.

At least, he comes twice a month, and is not ignorant of me all in all. 

At least, he is honest, loyal, respected and dignified.

At least, I am the only home he comes to, and comforts when he is around.

At least, he is alive, and I’m not a widow to face the music of life. 

At least I serve him every time he wants, and no other woman is on his mind. 

At least, his aunt and uncle call me, and we have someone here to call family.

Initially, the concept of, ‘AT LEAST’  sounded quite absurd to me, but as I deliberate over the thought, it gives me internal peace, and maybe I don’t complain. Yes, it’s true. 

We live our roles to the utmost for our goals. Sometimes there are hiccups, and sometimes there isn’t; but the truth remains... There is so much that people envy in us that we have to hold on tight to our souls, so that no evil eye can rattle or control the fate we both are meant to hold, without a grudge, without a cold. Without the feeling of, “I was not told.” 

I complain, break it apart and you will see...

I come plain. At least! 



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