Shadows Behind the Smile

Shadows Behind the Smile

BY:Khan

At Bilquis Riaz’s wedding celebration, she encountered an old acquaintance. As soon as they exchanged greetings, she chose to sit nearby. The woman, clearly overjoyed to see her, expressed how long she had been hoping to meet her.

"How have you been?" Bilquis asked warmly.

"By the grace of Allah, I am well," the woman replied. "You know very well what life is like for a widow. For the past fifteen years, I have witnessed the many colors of this world… Ma’sha’Allah, my children have grown up now. There’s no shortage of money, but when my children were very young, and I myself was still young, it was a different story. You can never truly understand the burden of hardships until they fall upon you. Only the One above knows the weight of a calamity."

She paused, her eyes distant for a moment, as if recalling the years gone by. "I am blessed with three brothers, a sister, and a widowed mother. My mother’s care gave me the courage to carry on, but even though I had so many close relatives, they hardly ever cared that I had become a widow, that I was alone. Their support was rare. The only thing a woman has in this world is her home, her family, and if the roof over her head collapses—God forbid—you can imagine the helplessness she feels."

She sighed and continued, "Our society worships only the rising sun. I never remarried, for the sake of my children. In some ways, that was the right decision. Otherwise, perhaps my children would not have achieved what they have today. They are educated, capable, and now my son manages everything quite well. My daughter, too, is on the brink of starting her own family."

Her voice wavered as she recounted her struggles. "When I was at my lowest, desperately hoping for my siblings’ support, help was scarce. Occasionally, strangers were more helpful than family. Today, my children are grown, my son takes care of all matters, and my relatives… well, now they check in, ask about our well-being, just out of formality. But let me tell you, the comfort and conveniences around you—your home, your resources—cannot erase the pain a person endures. Suffering is something every individual must experience on their own."

Listening carefully, Bilquis nodded. "Alhamdulillah, thank God for all the blessings you have. When a person has no means of livelihood, it’s hard to imagine the struggles they face. Right now, you have everything you need, so even if your relatives are not always helping, at least your basic needs are met. In the past, neighbors would instantly come to help if they knew someone was in trouble. Families shared sorrows and joys alike. Today, things have changed drastically. Blood relations or otherwise, few inquire after each other. One should not hold expectations too high."

The woman sighed, "That is the reality of this world. People only move toward you when there is some benefit in it. If there is no gain, even your own siblings may hesitate to come. Yet, I will say this—amid this selfish world, some people still exist with integrity, dignity, and genuine love. They meet and support others purely out of kindness, without any hidden agenda."

As she spoke, tears welled up in her eyes. Bilquis didn’t want her to cry on such a joyous occasion, so she gently shifted the conversation. But inside, Bilquis felt a surge of anger and frustration. How could people be so indifferent to someone enduring hardships? In an era of chaos and selfishness, shouldn’t humans, at least, offer comfort to those in pain?

Life is brief, she thought. We have only a few fleeting moments to make a difference, to ease someone’s suffering, to alleviate their burdens. Wealth, comfort, and social standing are meaningless if we fail to extend compassion when it is most needed. She realized that a simple act of kindness could shine brighter than a hundred grand gestures.

The woman’s words lingered in Bilquis’s mind long after the celebration ended. Her story was a testament to resilience, patience, and the invisible struggles that people often endure silently. It was a reminder that human compassion is rare and precious, and that real support isn’t measured by material wealth or social appearances but by the willingness to share another’s pain and stand beside them through trials.

As Bilquis left the event, she silently vowed to herself: in her life, she would not turn a blind eye to suffering, whether it belonged to family, friends, or even strangers. If she could ease someone’s worry, comfort their heart, or lend a helping hand, she would. Life, after all, is not about accumulating comforts or accolades, but about leaving behind a legacy of kindness, empathy, and love.

The encounter had reminded her that while the world may be selfish and unpredictable, individual actions can still bring light into someone’s darkness. And sometimes, that light—simple, sincere, and timely—is enough to give someone the strength to keep going, no matter how heavy life’s burdens may be.