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Authors: Qaisra Shahraz
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squatting on the ground.
‘No, thank you. I want nothing at all from
you
!’ Still livid, Kaniz whispered her insult loudly enough for all the other guests and village women to hear.
Her face going a shade paler, Fatima managed to hold onto her temper by refusing to rise to Kaniz’s bait. Instead she judiciously moved away.
Kaniz can say whatever she likes, but she cannot do anything about damming her son’s affection for my daughter! thought Fatima happily. With a smirk playing prominently on her face, she moved on to attend to the other mourners and passed trays of fruit around. She didn’t offer Kaniz anything else.
Habib Khan, too, had watched the short exchange between Sikander and his daughter. Shahzada glimpsed different emotions chase over her husband’s face. She tried to interpret them as best she could, after years of having lived with him. Catching her looking at him, Habib gave his wife the benefit of a pointed stare.
‘Tell our Zarri Bano that she mustn’t converse withstrange men,’ he ordered sharply, ‘especially in this gathering, with all and sundry eavesdropping and waiting around for a titbit of gossip. It is not good for my daughter’s reputation.’
‘But Habib Sahib, Sikander is
not
a stranger! He is our special guest, somebody who will soon become a member of our family – our son-in-law, in fact,’ Shahzada replied, her voice raised slightly for some reason she didn’t yet understand.
‘Perhaps it is
kismet
. Perhaps Sikander was never destined to become a member of our family. Not as Zarri Bano’s husband anyway.’ Habib turned away, speaking quietly almost as if to himself.
‘What? What do you mean?’ Shahzada croaked, jerking her head towards him. A cold fist of fear clutched at her heart. Her eyes stood large in her grief-ravaged face.
‘Nothing. Forget what I said,’ Habib hissed back at her, before rising and crossing the courtyard to speak to his father, Siraj Din.
Shahzada, however, couldn’t forget. Stumbling up from her seat she left the courtyard in a daze, wanting to seek the privacy of her own room. He had threatened her with divorce if she encouraged Zarri Bano to marry Sikander – but this! Her husband’s chilling, cryptic words shook her nearly as much as the death of her only son. ‘It cannot be!’ Alarm bells rang loudly in her head. Surely he couldn’t be planning that fate! Not for her beautiful daughter! They couldn’t be so cruel. They couldn’t! she thought feverishly, her head assaulted by different distressing visions.
Still agitated, she sought her daughter. Zarri Bano was in her room. The appearance of her daughter reading the Holy Quran, with a shawled head, gave her mother’s runaway imagination a horrid reality.
‘Zarri, darling. Please place the Holy Quran on the mantelpiece and let’s talk,’ Shahzada appealed in a trembling voice, sitting down on the sofa. She tried hard to smile at her daughter, but failed miserably.
‘Yes, Mother.’ Kissing the Quran’s cover reverently, Zarri Bano placed it on the mantelpiece and then flicked the shawl off her head, shaking out her glossy waves, letting them tumble around her shoulders and face, cascading down to her lower back.
‘Tell me, Zarri Bano, you do want to marry Sikander, don’t you?’ Shahzada began, not daring to look her daughter in the eye.
Her pale cheeks colouring a delicate shade of pink, Zarri Bano nodded. ‘Yes, Mother. Two days before I learnt of Jafar’s death, Sikander Sahib proposed to me and I accepted. That is when I phoned to let you know. But how can I even think about marriage, having lost my dearest, beloved brother?’
‘You must, my love. You must get married quickly.’
‘But it is the wrong time, Mother. How can you advise me to do this? We have only buried our Jafar yesterday. It would be so insensitive. What will Father say?’
‘You must tell him immediately, because I think that he may have other plans in mind for you, now that he
‘No, thank you. I want nothing at all from
you
!’ Still livid, Kaniz whispered her insult loudly enough for all the other guests and village women to hear.
Her face going a shade paler, Fatima managed to hold onto her temper by refusing to rise to Kaniz’s bait. Instead she judiciously moved away.
Kaniz can say whatever she likes, but she cannot do anything about damming her son’s affection for my daughter! thought Fatima happily. With a smirk playing prominently on her face, she moved on to attend to the other mourners and passed trays of fruit around. She didn’t offer Kaniz anything else.
Habib Khan, too, had watched the short exchange between Sikander and his daughter. Shahzada glimpsed different emotions chase over her husband’s face. She tried to interpret them as best she could, after years of having lived with him. Catching her looking at him, Habib gave his wife the benefit of a pointed stare.
‘Tell our Zarri Bano that she mustn’t converse withstrange men,’ he ordered sharply, ‘especially in this gathering, with all and sundry eavesdropping and waiting around for a titbit of gossip. It is not good for my daughter’s reputation.’
‘But Habib Sahib, Sikander is
not
a stranger! He is our special guest, somebody who will soon become a member of our family – our son-in-law, in fact,’ Shahzada replied, her voice raised slightly for some reason she didn’t yet understand.
‘Perhaps it is
kismet
. Perhaps Sikander was never destined to become a member of our family. Not as Zarri Bano’s husband anyway.’ Habib turned away, speaking quietly almost as if to himself.
‘What? What do you mean?’ Shahzada croaked, jerking her head towards him. A cold fist of fear clutched at her heart. Her eyes stood large in her grief-ravaged face.
‘Nothing. Forget what I said,’ Habib hissed back at her, before rising and crossing the courtyard to speak to his father, Siraj Din.
Shahzada, however, couldn’t forget. Stumbling up from her seat she left the courtyard in a daze, wanting to seek the privacy of her own room. He had threatened her with divorce if she encouraged Zarri Bano to marry Sikander – but this! Her husband’s chilling, cryptic words shook her nearly as much as the death of her only son. ‘It cannot be!’ Alarm bells rang loudly in her head. Surely he couldn’t be planning that fate! Not for her beautiful daughter! They couldn’t be so cruel. They couldn’t! she thought feverishly, her head assaulted by different distressing visions.
Still agitated, she sought her daughter. Zarri Bano was in her room. The appearance of her daughter reading the Holy Quran, with a shawled head, gave her mother’s runaway imagination a horrid reality.
‘Zarri, darling. Please place the Holy Quran on the mantelpiece and let’s talk,’ Shahzada appealed in a trembling voice, sitting down on the sofa. She tried hard to smile at her daughter, but failed miserably.
‘Yes, Mother.’ Kissing the Quran’s cover reverently, Zarri Bano placed it on the mantelpiece and then flicked the shawl off her head, shaking out her glossy waves, letting them tumble around her shoulders and face, cascading down to her lower back.
‘Tell me, Zarri Bano, you do want to marry Sikander, don’t you?’ Shahzada began, not daring to look her daughter in the eye.
Her pale cheeks colouring a delicate shade of pink, Zarri Bano nodded. ‘Yes, Mother. Two days before I learnt of Jafar’s death, Sikander Sahib proposed to me and I accepted. That is when I phoned to let you know. But how can I even think about marriage, having lost my dearest, beloved brother?’
‘You must, my love. You must get married quickly.’
‘But it is the wrong time, Mother. How can you advise me to do this? We have only buried our Jafar yesterday. It would be so insensitive. What will Father say?’
‘You must tell him immediately, because I think that he may have other plans in mind for you, now that he
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