The Deal of Compulsion
Written by: Imran Iqbal
A light rain was falling. The cold breeze carried a strange tremor with it, accompanied by the rumble of clouds. On an old bench at the railway station, he sat in silence, staring at the sky. Perhaps he was searching for an answer… or maybe, he was speaking to the silent sky, saying the things he had no courage to say to anyone else.
His name was Waqas. Always a top student, always dreaming high — but today, he was sitting on the rubble of his own shattered dreams. A few years ago, he used to say, “I’ll live life on my terms. I’ll turn my dreams into reality.”
But today… His eyes carried exhaustion, his face bore the marks of defeat, and his lips held only silence.
Waqas belonged to a middle-class family. His father, after years of factory labor, had become seriously ill. His mother had never spoken of her own wishes. The education of his younger siblings, their health, the house expenses — everything now rested on Waqas’s shoulders.
He had received a scholarship abroad. His dream was to become an engineer, build a new life, a new world. But the last date to respond to the scholarship offer had arrived… and so had his mother’s last dose of medicine, his brother’s unpaid school fees, and another urgent hospital trip for his father.
He looked at the last few notes in his wallet — on one side was the price of a flight ticket, and on the other, the cost of medicine, school fees, and treatment. He sat there for a while, thinking… then let out a deep sigh, as if something inside him had broken.
He didn’t buy the ticket.
That day became the defining moment of his life.
That day was — The Deal of Compulsion.
No one asked him why he gave up on his dreams.
No one cared to know why he stopped sleeping at night, why he had grown so quiet, or why he seemed lost in himself.
The world simply saw him as an ordinary clerk in a company — someone who arrives on time, leaves on time… and that’s it.
But the truth is: Waqas died inside a little every day.
Every time he saw an airplane in the sky or heard news about engineering breakthroughs, a vein in his heart snapped quietly. His lips remained sealed, his eyes often moist, and his heart whispered:
“Waqas… the deal you made wasn’t just about your dreams —
it was your love, your passion, and your pride…
all sacrificed at the altar of necessity.”
The night faded. The rain had stopped.
Waqas stood up, brushed the dust off his coat, and walked home without complaint.
Because his mother was waiting for medicine,
his siblings had school in the morning,
and his father’s fragile breaths still depended on him.
Epilogue
People like Waqas live on every street, in every city.
They don’t shout. They don’t complain.
They just keep making deals with life —
deals born out of helplessness.
They bury their dreams to build someone else’s reality.
These are the real heroes.
They may never be praised…
But it’s their shoulders that carry the weight of the world.
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