The Love Of 1979

The year was 1979.

Naju was sixteen years old—a young woman defined by her beauty, kindness, and an infectious sense of joy. She belonged to a bustling, large family; sandwiched in the middle, she had two older brothers, two older sisters, and two younger brothers.

Growing up, Naju didn’t receive a lot of strict guidance from her parents, mostly because they were getting on in years. However, what they lacked in energy, they made up for in affection; they loved and supported her deeply. Her mother was a woman of immense calm, and her father was simply one of the kindest souls one could meet.

Within the busy home, Naju found her best friend in Lira. Although Lira was her niece, the two were incredibly close. Lira was twelve at the time, the daughter of Naju’s older sister, Rabi.

Rabi’s story was a tender, yet complex one. She was young, beautiful, and had married into a very wealthy family. Tragically, her husband passed away when her girls were very little. Heartbroken but resilient, Rabi returned to the safety of her parents' humble house to raise her daughters, Lira and Lima.

Because of this background, the girls came from a world of wealth different from the rest of the household.

Lima, the younger sister, was a sweet, kind girl on the surface. She was quiet, easy-going, and often seemed a bit foolish, preferring to stay lost in her own world rather than engage with reality. Yet, despite her innocent demeanor, she—like her sister—harbored a deep-seated selfishness.

This selfishness was most visible regarding the gifts that arrived from their father’s wealthy relatives. Expensive foods and rare chocolates were frequently sent to the house. In a home full of so many people, one might expect these treats to be shared, but that was not the case. Rabi would quickly hide the chocolates and food in a private drawer. She would bring them out only for Lira and Lima, feeding them secretly. Even Naju, who was their closest friend, was never offered a bite.

Lira, too, had her own specific brand of arrogance. For example, there was a specific night when Naju wanted to sleep on Lira's pillow. However, Lira had a strict obsession regarding her things: she would only ever use her own pillow. Even if Naju—or anyone else—was sick, uncomfortable, or had to sleep flat on the mattress without support, Lira remained unbothered. She would never share it.

However, life in the house had other challenges beyond these silent divides. Naju’s older brother, Osad, was a stark contrast to their gentle parents. He was a strictly disciplined man who took it upon himself to guide his siblings. His word was law, and everyone in the house was careful to follow his rules, walking on eggshells to avoid his temper.

One day, after finishing her coaching classes, Naju went out to play with her friends, eager to escape the strict atmosphere of the house. It was meant to be a fun, carefree afternoon, but things took a sudden turn. While they were playing, her friend Nasir threw a rock by mistake, and it struck Naju directly on the head.

The impact hurt her badly, and she started to bleed. Panic set in immediately; everyone was scared, knowing Naju needed help but fearing Osad's reaction if she went home injured. Naju’s friend, Najma, acted quickly. She ran to a nearby pharmacy and bought a bottle of Dettol antiseptic. They carefully applied it to the wound to stop the bleeding and clean the cut, hoping to hide the evidence of the accident.

Later that night, the reality of their living situation made hiding the secret difficult. Although it was a big family, they lived in a very small house with tiny rooms. The sleeping arrangements were crowded; the siblings all slept together in one room, some sharing the bed while others slept on mattresses laid out on the floor.

Suddenly, amidst the quiet of the night, Osad’s voice cut through the room.

"Hey, who used Dettol?" Osad asked sharply. "I can smell it."

Naju froze, terrified. She knew that if Osad found out she had been injured while playing outside, there would be severe consequences. Her heart pounding, she quickly came up with a lie.

"Brother, it was my friend Najma," Naju said, her voice trembling slightly. "She got hurt herself, and I was helping her put Dettol on her hand. That is why maybe there is a smell on me."

Osad paused, sniffing the air again. To Naju's relief, he seemed to buy the story.

"Okay," he said sternly. "Go wash your hands now."

Naju scrambled up, went to the washroom, and scrubbed her hands thoroughly with soap to remove the lingering scent. She tiptoed back into the room, crawled under her blanket, and squeezed her eyes shut, eventually drifting into a fearful sleep.

She did not knew yet, But her life was about to change....