She remembered the day clearly!
She was all of 16. Wearing her new pink salwaar kameez with matching pink parandi and juttis, she looked like a fresh rose blooming in the garden of Heaven.
Taking a last look in the mirror, she approved the heart shaped faced with a smile that rose from her lips to her sparkling honey brown eyes. Her long black hair were neatly plaited ending in silken pink tassels. ‘Preeto, wait!’ mom commanded as she gave her the customary spoonful of kheer!
“Nazar na lagey mere laado ko” she murmured as she put a small kohl dot under her ear.
Laughing Preet ran off to school.
“Hey Preeto! You look more beautiful than ever today!” whispered the man on the cycle, riding close at her heels.
She ignored him, bowed her head a little, increasing her pace.
“ I am your Ranjha, you are my Heer, forgotten?” the slightly balding man continued lecherously.
“Stop it!” she dared to retort.
“Oh! That fiery spirit! It makes you even more beautiful. Let’s get married!”
She turned around and shouted, “Don’t you dare follow me or talk rubbish! My father will sort you out!”
“If I cant have you, no one else will,” he hissed as he opened the bottle he was carrying and sprayed its contents across her face.
Her painful scream, stopped all passersby and she was rushed to the hospital. Years of plastic surgery and therapy followed. Yet the scars greeted her whenever she looked in the mirror
***
“The enemy across the border will have a tough time now,” said the soldier on duty at the border to his mate.
He scrambled to his feet to salute the Commanding officer passing by.
“Because of her – Major Preet Kaur, Vishist Seva Medal,” he proudly boasted.
PS: Written for ArtoonsInn Writers Room, September prompt: Scar
Gripping and interesting
Easy flow of words..well written