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Eternal Regret

I am writing this because I do not want anyone to make the same mistake I did and leave Sikhi for a man, especially a Muslim. This will make sense, if you read on.

I was brought up in a Sikh family and I covered my head most of the time because my parents had told me that this is what I should do. In high school, none of the Punjabi girls wanted to hang out with me because I wore a 'patka'. As the years went by, altough my friends were Sikh, they felt the urge to rebel against their various restrictions and all starting seeing boys in their early teens. I again felt left out because I had no boyfriend. My friends used to invite me to their houses and even some parties, which were known as 'sessions' because everyone just got drunk. My father was amritdhari, so I knew it was wrong to drink, so I'd go with my friends to these parties but not actually do anything..

It was at one of these parties I met a guy, Sheraz who was 19, whilst I was 14. The weekly session was at his house and his brother went to my school. Everyone was drunk so I walked into the garden. I was followed out by Sheraz. We started talking and just managed to hit it off...It was so weird. I never thought I was the kind of person that could talk to guy. I didn't have a mobile then, so sheraz couldn't contact me. One day he just turned up after school and again we talked and shared the same interests. We could joke about and basically 'chill out' it was really cool, or so I thought...

Sheraz's visits became more frequent and my friends started telling me he liked me. I thought they were all joking because Sheraz was at Uni and I was only a high school kid. But on valentines day, he told me he really liked me. I was so shocked. All my friends were jealous that my 1st boyfriend was a uni guy. They all told me how lucky I was, and I really felt I was lucky. I thought I had found the man of my dreams, he was loving caring, romantic, but there was 1 problem he wasn't sikh. Me and Sheraz started dating for 3 years! By then, I was absolutely in love and I didnt care about sikhi. I used to wear a patka only at home and when I left my house I would take it off. I didnt care about Sikhi because, I knew I had found my partner. I knew I had the man that I wanted to marry.

After high school ended, Sheraz wanted to take on a surprise holiday. My friends told me that he planned to propose to me in Venice so I was lied to my parents about going away. When the day came, I was so excited. I told my parents this was a school trip and arranged to meet Sheraz outside school on the day on a genuine school trip. We took a cab to the airport and started checking in for our flight. I was really excited. When we got to Italy, Sheraz tole me he had a surprise for me and told me we had a connecting flight to catch...as you can probably guess this was to Pakistan (Sheraz somehow got me a Visa through some of his Muslim buddies). I didnt mind, because I was happy to be with him. When we arrived at Pakistan we were booked to stay in a hotel. Everybody treated us really nice and I was soo excited. I was only 16, and this was my first holiday away, in a different country with my boyfriend. It did not even occur to me that we needed separate beds. When I realised what the sleeping arrangements were, I didn't mind because I loved Sheraz, and I felt ready. That night I told him I wanted to stay with him forever. Sheraz, said, if that's what I wanted he would arrange that.

Sheraz told me he loved me and hated other guys looking at me. He told me he wanted me to wear a hijaab (Muslim headscarf). It was sort of like the patka except a little more concealing, so I didn't have a problem with it, plus I thought it would make him happy, so I started wearing it. We lived in Pakistan for a month or two as husband and wife. One day sheraz told me we would have to return because of visa requirements. I had been feeling a bit sick so I went along with what he said and we both flew back to England. The day we got back Sheraz dropped me at the hotel and told me he would be back. I waited, and waited, and waited and waited but he never did come back and I discovered the reason I was sick was because I was pregnant.

I didn't know who to turn to because I hadn't spoken to my family for months. The only place I could go was the government. They put me in social care because I was still a minor and the NHS paid for me to have an abortion. 8 years have passed and there is not one day that I don't think of my parents or what I have lost. Although I call them, I feel too ashamed to see them yet. I have started covering my hair again and have started to realize so much about Sikhism that I never knew before. I feel so horrible that I was blinded by my ignorance into accepting Islam, but one day I hope to take amrit. Once I give my head to my guru I will feel that my sins are washed away and then I will be able to face my parents and the world with confidence once again.