Baloch Psycho girl with beautiful Eyes

Cold-Blooded Brothers: A Sad story of Baloch Psycho girl

Baloch Psycho girl with beautiful Eyes, she is badly treated by her Cold-Blooded Brothers
A Baloch Girl with Beautiful Eyes

This is a real story of a very poor and innocent Psycho girl who transformed from innocent to an offensive kid by her Cold-Blooded Brothers.

I saw her at a close relative’s wedding. She was wearing a green dupatta and trying to persuade her mom to buy stuff. And both my Amma (Mom) and I were staring at her. But her mother scolded her for some reason.

After a few seconds, she joined the other kids to play a game.

Mom sighed coldly and replied, “She is Sara’s daughter (fictitious name) and she is an unsound-minded girl.”

The way she was playing, interacting, eating, drinking, and taking care of herself was quite adorable.

Whilst observing I noticed that she was quite humble and friendly too.

Wearing a scarf is considered a ritual in our society; she was well-versed in scarf care.

“It’s unbelievable that she’s a mentally ill soul, Mom,” I replied to Mom.

Mom replied very softly listen carefully! when brothers stop taking care of their sisters even don’t bother to talk to them.

Then their illiterate, stupid, and egoist wives start treating their sisters cruelly, especially the one who is living with her father or on the brother’s sack.

Undoubtedly, she was a gem of their house. If such narrow-minded females start propaganda to make anyone mental, then indeed a well-sound mind will become unsound within a few days.

She will count and act as a lunatic herself. Also starts believing that she is psycho by birth. That is the reason that such a beautiful girl is suffering among these beasts.

You are eager to know the fact; do one thing.  The woman who is sitting in the corridor holding a child is the sister-in-law of that girl. The lady that is sitting under the neem tree with a red frock is her mother. They have your answers. 

Approaching her mother seemed convenient to me, hence I stepped toward Sara.

After a short introduction, I asked Sara “why do people call your daughter a lunatic?”

The moment when I asked her, the tears streamed towards her cheeks.

She took a deep breath; blew and clean her torn dupatta; wiped her tears with the corner of her scarf, and replied to me in a trembling way

We both along with other ladies became sad. I cursed myself that I don’t have to ask her.

“When poverty stays in your house and sorrows become your luck, then closest relative starts using the term psycho for the dearest one. When blood relatives act as cold fish then the person becomes mad for the vicinity too.” She expressed herself sadly with floating tears.

She took a deep breath once again and continue telling the truth, “My daughter is not lunatic or senseless but when she demands something from her brothers then brothers treat her as a beggar and call her mental. Only 3rd son cares and respects her well.”

Her reply was ditto to what my mom’s told me.

The way she was talking to me, I decided to leave, if I stayed a few moments, she will no longer resist. She might have a heart attack.

As it was a wedding party, I had no intention to worsen their presence by making them sad.

I had gotten my answer, so rather than going to her sister-in-law, I headed towards that psychopath girl. I called her, kissed her on the cheek, and offered her some money.

The moment I kissed, all the kids laughed at me and shouted “Alas! You have kissed a nutty now you will be like her very soon”

Even she was in shocking condition too, for my action.

Her beautiful eyes gazed at me, questioningly.

Before my control of silence, she talked in a heart-wrenching style.

“I am neither mad nor psycho. If I were mad, I would not have been well-dressed. I am far better than those who are counting me as mad.

My brothers don’t value me, if I ask them for something, they drive them away. The sisters also sit with spears in their tongues and spears in their hands because of the attitude of the brothers.” She was loudly talking about herself, due to angriness.

I put my hand on her head as a good gesture, then asked her politely, “Who call you mad? and who annoys you more?”

Her reply was similar to mine and her mom’s.

She replied full of anger, “My brothers pretend me crazy. They started treating me like I am an outsider and burden them. Next, my sisters-in-law followed the footsteps of my brothers. They treat me offensively and use unethically words for me.”

After a short silence, she chattered, “If I don’t ask from my brothers then whom I do demand for my things? Do I start begging? There is a knife in the tongue and bow in the hands of my brothers and their wives.”

Her words were rumbling due to anger. Her eyes became reddish, as she found someone who listens to him carefully.

She became too much emotional and started crying. Her gems and jewels drizzled from her eyes towards her chin. She looped in one sigh and cry, “Brother I am not psycho, but I am starved for a full stomach, for the love of my brothers, for the respect from my blood ones”

When I looked back my mom and Sara both were crying. 

“Would you like to have lunch with me?”, I requested her with a smile.

That was the priceless smile that touched my soul. I wanted to hold her hand, but she pulled back her hand.

“My hands are dirty as I was playing the sand game. If you hold my hand yours will be too.” She notified me wisely.

Now it becomes more evident to me that she is not a psychopath, neither mad nor unsound mind. She is being treated madly due by her family members and others.

She swabbed her palms with a dupatta and forwarded it to me for holding.

I hold her hand and headed toward a suitable place for lunch. The moment I hold her hand, the wedding attendees were staring at me and whispering to each other, as I have taken out their respiratory through their throats.

As heard and expected, her brother come out from the crowd and mocked me, “You are psycho like her, because you preferred to accompany a psycho-girl rather than others.”

Sadly, I failed to get a point for lunch as all the tables were crowded, hence I approached once again to my mother and requested her proper lunch like other guests.

After handing over her to my mother, when I crossed the Sara, she stopped me by holding my hand.

Sara prayed for me in a very pleasant way, “You are a heavenly blessed soul, May Allah allots a slot for a superior plot and place in Jannah.

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