Pregnant Muslim wife meets Hindu lover

Haseena walked carefully so as to not reveal any part of her skin. In her state, it was taboo for another man to see her exposed. The entire mohalla had been in high spirits when her pregnancy was revealed but no one had predicted three children. Now in her final stages, the pregnancy had distended her swollen belly outward till she could barely walk. She felt the fabric struggling to get past her stomach, pulled tight around her bulge. The restrictive burqa kept her from walking quickly, the cloth stretching across and then loosely falling off the edge of her belly like a cliff.

Knowing him, he would be watching her coming, relishing that it revealed more than it hid. She smiled, touching her deep navel, clearly outlined against the black fabric. In these moments, she was glad for the veil hiding her blushing face. There was a small window when her brother went for evening prayers and before her nephew arrived from the workshop. Otherwise, she would always have a family member near her. Even when she had to use the toilet, a gaggle of women relatives always stood guard.

She kept walking slowly, reaching the sheltered canvas of the tea stall, always shut at this time. The nook had a wall to one side, separating them from the market and a gutter alongside it, which meant few people came around the bend. He was there as promised, waiting for her with the same impatience written on his face that she felt. It was not even enough time to speak or kiss, barely enough time for her to loosen her burqa so that he could bunch it up around her waist.