I was fond of men and would love being around men then woman. This was due to the love I had received from both my Daji and my maternal grandfather. I was always surrounded by men as I had a single aunt who was married and just uncles with no other siblings yet. We once were visited by my Mashar Daji my maternal grandfather. He had an old white car in times when the villagers could only afford horse carts. He was also the village chairman and would also lead the meeting held for solving the village issues. We had a complicated family history as my maternal grandfather was also the brother of my fraternal grandmother. As the pakhtoons would prefers marrying their close relative then bringing an outsider’s daughter into their homes.
One day I insisted to accompany my Mashar Daji to their village as I was excited for the ride in his car. He was more than happy to take me along. We travelled three hours to reach their village with him telling me the stories of courage along the whole three hours ride. He would have a basket full of nuts lying on his side table with every possible dry nuts found in the country. My favourite were the green raisins. I was happy until I had all the treats lying in front of me but as soon as the green raisins were finished I started crying nonstop. Mashar Daji did all he could but it was all in vein. Finally he called one of his drivers to take me back home. It was 2am when we reached home in this dark night with no lights on just the headlights of Mashar Daji old car. We knocked the huge steel door with all this force but it was only after 15 whole minutes that Liaquat finally heard it and we were let in. It was since that day that I realized I was not as strong as I thought I was.