My eldest brother was named Noor Nazar, but at home, everyone called him Nazar. Nazar Bhai had never been to the place reputed for the trade of humanity. Nor did my brother know about the market where admirers of beauty went for spectacle. He was forced to go there because our old gardener Ayub Baba's young daughter, Shireen Gul, had been kidnapped, and someone informed him that she was in Lahore's red-light district.
The sorrow of his daughter's kidnapping was overwhelming enough, and then this news hit like a catastrophe. This information shattered Baba. He cried and pleaded in front of my father, asking for help to find Shireen Gul somehow. If his daughter was in that district, he begged for her to be rescued. Ayub Baba had been our gardener for fifteen years, and Shireen Gul was two years old back then. She was my age. We used to play together in our childhood, playing with dolls and catching butterflies. She was a very gentle-natured girl, and her beauty was such that it could make the full moon blush. They say beauty is a gift from God, but sometimes extraordinary beauty can put one in danger.
For eleven years, Ayub Baba lived in the servant quarters behind our house. When my brother got married, our father sold the old house and bought a new bungalow in a posh area. The new bungalow had only a one-room servant quarter, so Ayub Baba had to rent a house, as his family couldn't fit in one room. They moved to a rental house in a neighborhood populated by laborers, an unsafe area with inadequate living conditions. It wasn't a place fit for respectable people, but Ayub Baba needed a cheap place. After moving to the rental house, it wasn't possible for Shireen Gul to visit our house daily. She would visit once a month with her mother, but eventually, this also stopped. I lost touch with their domestic situation and didn't know how or why she was kidnapped. It wasn't clear whether it was her own naivety or a mishap that led to it.
Baba Ayub would come to our house in the morning and go home in the evening. He had four daughters and two sons. Shireen Gul was his eldest daughter, and the sons were younger than all the daughters. Ayub Baba was the sole breadwinner for such a large family. Due to his long service, we all cared for him. He was respected like an elder of the family, and my parents also helped him financially from time to time. Although he was called a gardener, he performed many other tasks around the house. If he couldn't come for a day, our household would be in disarray. My father was as concerned about Shireen Gul as Ayub Baba was. He wanted to help his loyal servant at any cost, so he asked Nazar Bhai to use his inspector friend to access the red-light district and search for Shireen Gul there, hoping to find some clue.
No father would tell his son to go to such a place, but there was no other option. My father fully supported Ayub Baba in the search for his lost daughter. When no other lead was found, they decided to search in the area where it was generally considered inappropriate to set foot. Every action of a person is judged by their intentions. Sometimes, to fulfill a good intention, one has to visit a bad place. The inspector's name was Raheel, and he was Nazar Bhai's childhood friend. He took on the task of searching for Shireen Gul, but she couldn't be identified without my brother's help as there was no photograph. Only my brother could recognize her. Although Nazar Bhai found it beyond his capacity, he felt pity for Baba Ayub's distress.
When Nazar Bhai and his friend Inspector Raheel set foot in the district, their eyes widened. He told his wife, Sofia, that he was deeply saddened. There were so many radiant faces there, undoubtedly diamonds that dazzled the eyes and dimmed the mind, but his heart wept for their misfortune. If only these women from respectable families could have been brides, departing their fathers' homes with honor, they wouldn't have ended up as commodities, facing ruin and despair. Many were kidnapped from their homes as children while playing in the streets. Now, these daughters of respectable families were forced to entertain human beasts. We entered the district with a broker, pretending to be customers, but found no trace of Shireen Gul. We realized that a significant amount of money and time would be required to find any clues. This endeavor indeed cost a lot of money. Raheel and Nazar Bhai kept going for many days. They learned that thugs had brought Shireen Gul there, but she was taken away a few days later and sent to Sindh.
Ayub Baba's wife, Zareena, would come to our house to inquire about her daughter. Her condition was pitiable, as she wept inconsolably. My mother would try to calm her, offer her solace, but her tears wouldn't stop. My mother would say, "Alright, cry... crying won't take away the sorrow, but it does lighten the heart." Zareena Khala would fold her hands in front of my brother and say, "Son, please find her from somewhere, or else I will die."
"Auntie, I am doing my utmost and have even sought help from the police. But she hasn't been found there. If it were within my power, I would have definitely brought Shireen Gul back to you." My brother did everything within his means to find her, but Shireen Gul remained missing. During his mission, Nazar Bhai saw some girls in distress in a house, one of whom was very beautiful. She was very quiet, her face adorned with sadness and her heart under a shroud of sorrow. Her extraordinary melancholy caught my brother's attention. He arranged to spend a few hours alone with her, as only then she could share her story. He asked her about the cause of her sorrow. Overcome with emotion, she wept, telling him that her cousin had deceived her, taken her from her home, and sold her here for fifty thousand rupees. The people here kept a strict watch over them. She couldn't contact anyone outside. She pleaded with folded hands, "Please get me out of here. I will never forget your kindness."
Her cries of distress moved Nazar Bhai deeply. He thought that perhaps God had sent him to this dreadful place for a good deed. Though he couldn't find Ayub Baba's daughter, this girl was also forced to breathe in captivity. She too was someone's daughter, someone's sister. Some father must be yearning for her, and her mother must be crying her heart out. The girl's name was Parveen. She implored my brother to rescue her and return her to her family. Compelled by her pleas, Noor Nazar promised to make every effort to save her. Due to Parveen, Nazar Bhai began to visit that place regularly. He told Inspector Raheel that while Ayub Baba's daughter wasn't found, there was another girl who deserved help. She clung to my feet, begging for rescue. He asked Raheel to help retrieve her but warned to avoid any scandal or his name being mentioned and to steer clear of any conflict that might reach the newspapers.
Inspector Raheel understood my brother's perspective, but his superior did not. He disclosed the matter to a political figure who, seeking to take credit for the deed, called a press conference and involved the media. Although the girl was rescued, the news was also published that a respectable family's kidnapped daughter had been recovered due to the efforts of this notable person, and she was to be returned to her family.
Now, listen to what happened with her family. When Inspector Raheel and Nazar Bhai tried to hand Parveen over to her father, instead of being relieved, he became bitter and angry.He said, "The misfortune that struck my daughter was a result of her own actions, and she has brought shame upon our family. She is not as innocent as she seems. The boy she ran away with is not her cousin but a distant relative whose proposal I had refused due to his character. Parveen knew this, yet she kept in contact with him. When I strictly forbade his parents from seeking her hand again, she deceived us and ran away with him.
"We men know the world outside. We know who is good and who is bad. Women at home don't understand this. Neither Munawwar nor his family were good people, and I knew this well. But Parveen didn’t understand and brought shame upon us. Look where this disgraceful boy has brought her. Now, our reputation is ruined as her recovery from a brothel has been published in the newspaper, along with her and my names. I cannot bear this humiliation any longer. I will not take her back. Those who rescued her out of pity can keep her now."
Nazar Bhai, Inspector Raheel, and even my father tried to reason with him, but he remained unmoved. The girl clung to my father's feet, begging, "Please don't reject me. Take me in as a servant, kill me if you must, but don't hand me over to anyone else. Someone might sell me again. That place is filthy and terrifying, a hell for respectable girls."
Her pleas were so heart-wrenching that my father took her in, but now he was pondering what to do with her. Parveen seemed to have decided in her heart to stay with us. She didn't trust anyone else and wasn't willing to go to a shelter or any relative's house. It was apparent that her uncles, aunts, and other relatives were not willing to accept her either. Even if someone had taken her in, the news and her published photograph made her unacceptable to everyone.
Father was furious with Raheel, questioning why there was a need to involve the press if they were doing a good deed. Poor Raheel had no answer. He was just a modest police inspector. The political figure who called the press conference wanted to claim credit for the act, caring more about votes. Thus, the girl's story came into the open. Neither her father nor her brothers, nor any other relatives were willing to accept her because the news had revealed that she had been rescued from the red-light district.
A few days later, Parveen hinted to my mother that she should take her as her daughter-in-law. "How is that possible, girl?" my mother replied. "Noor Nazar is already married, and my younger son is still a student. He cannot get married so soon. Even if I ask him to, he won't agree. What can I do? Be patient. If you want to stay as my daughter, stay. I will find a righteous man for you and arrange your marriage." Parveen responded, "I don't care about getting married. I care about you all. I have grown to love you and consider this house my home. I am only afraid that I might lose your affection and be cast out of this house."
This incident took place in 1973, and on March 19, all the newspapers published the news that a girl, under a pseudonym, had been rescued from a brothel. Since Noor Nazar Bhai's name also appeared in the news along with the inspector's, he faced a lot of trouble for several days. My father even went to see the political figure involved, asking why he had caused so much harm. But the damage was done, and there was no way to undo it.
Despite everything, there was nothing in this story that caused my father or brother any regret or remorse because when an act is done with good intentions or for someone's benefit, the opinion of the world doesn't matter, and there is no room for regret. Rescuing Parveen from a den of sin was a noble deed, but publicizing it in the newspapers had ruined the whole matter. The publication of her photograph became a torment for both her parents and herself.
Nazar Bhai's father-in-law summoned him and harshly criticized him, saying, "Young man, you seem very interested in rescuing abducted girls from brothels. Why do you go there? Even if you go with good intentions, the world will still see you as immoral because stepping into the mud will always leave stains on your clothes."
My brother tried to explain, "Uncle, I committed no crime nor had any evil intentions. I rescued a distressed girl from a vile environment upon her pleas." But his father-in-law was furious and wouldn't listen. Some relatives even started spreading rumors that Noor Nazar was of questionable character and had fallen in love with a wealthy woman. It was purely coincidental that Shireen Gul wasn't found but Parveen was, and my brother was moved by her tears. He helped her selflessly, but even after escaping that hellhole, she found no peace.
Parveen lived in our house for two years. My parents never handed her over to anyone or threw her out. They endured the gossip. My sister-in-law, Noor Nazar Bhai's wife, played a crucial role in this. She supported her husband and ensured Parveen wasn't left homeless. She said, "If we have given refuge to a girl who wants to avoid sin, Allah will not be pleased if we cast her out. No matter the circumstances, we will face them but won't expel Parveen."
Finally, God had mercy on Parveen. One day, her mother found our house and came with her younger son, saying,I have convinced Parveen's father. My brother has also reasoned with him, and he is now willing to take Parveen back. No matter what has happened, she is still our daughter. I have come to take her home.
My father spoke with Parveen's father over the phone, and then we gladly handed her over to her mother and brother. Parveen was also happy to see her mother. Though she was sad to leave us, she understood it was best for her to return to her parents. So, she left, and we found peace as well.
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