time. But we pardoned her, didn’t we, Naimat Jee?’ Kulsoom wanted her friend to confirm this. She turned to look at Naimat. ‘In those circumstances I think I would react in exactly the same way. And here we are, Sardara Jee – come straight to you, honouring you with being the first person to find out about what has happened. We have not been to any other house yet. You must regard this as a strong demonstration of the affection and respect we both have for you,’ Kulsoom ended earnestly.
‘Thank you, my friends. I am truly very grateful to you for coming to see me and telling me about all this. I really appreciate it.’ The breakfast and the creamy yoghurt had lost its significance.
‘Did you ever imagine that something like this would happen in our village, Sardara Jee?’ Kulsoom asked. ‘God keep evil and its shadow away from our young children and us. Oh, how could I forget? How silly of me. I haven’t told you the most important bit. Hajra has threatened the slut and Fatima that she is going to see Baba Siraj Din and have them publicly shamed in a
kacheri
. She is probably there now in his hawaili. Can you imagine, there being a kacheri on this topic? Ooh!’ Kulsoom triumphantly ended, reaching the climax of her storytelling and having successfully managed to evoke a look of sheer wonderment on the milk woman’s face.
‘What do you think will happen to them?’ Sardara whispered, bemused by the strange images wickedlydancing around in her head and before her eyes – afraid to voice aloud her thoughts. Kulsoom steadily held her friend’s gaze and smiled.
‘Your guess is as good as mine. There is no doubt that Hajra will insist on a public shaming – to avenge her daughter, of course.’ Kulsoom’s voice dipped in an awed whisper. ‘We have never had somebody commit adultery here in the village before, have we?.’
‘No, not to my knowledge. I am finding all this so hard to believe, my friends. Allah pak forbid. What is happening to our village? It frightens me that something like this can take place on our doorsteps. On our pak zemin. What do you think they’ll do to her? To
them
I mean – for both should be shamed, shouldn’t they? I am sure she didn’t physically drag him out of his wife’s bed. Haroon went to her willingly didn’t he?’
‘We don’t know who did the dragging, but they were caught together. Nor do we know what is going to happen. But of course we’ll keep you informed. Don’t worry, Sardara Jee, we know your legs give you trouble. One of us will make sure that you get to know everything. Of course, if a kacheri is held, you wouldn’t want to miss that for the world – would you, Sardara Jee?’ Kulsoom Jee slyly asked.
‘Definitely not! But …’ Sardara knitted her eyebrows thoughtfully. The Madrasah courtyard where the kacheri was normally held by the Buzurgh was in the other
mala
– the other section of the village, where Chaudharani Kaniz’ hawaili was. Normally the kacheri court function held no particular interest for Sardara. It was a men’s affair. She had plenty to get on with – seeing to the smooth running of the dairy. The buffaloes had to be fed and milked twice a day and then there was the milk to be dealt with, or to be made into
khoya
,a milky fudge, that she sold to the sweet shops in the nearest town.
This, village crisis, however, merited special attention. Sardara decided that for once her dairy could wait. Even if her legs were swollen out of shape for days afterwards from all the walking, she wouldn’t miss this kacheri for anything in the world!
‘No, I will definitely be attending, Kulsoom,’ she resolutely told her friends. ‘Do call me, when you go – but try to call early. Remember my poor legs. I have to be very gentle with them.’
‘Of course. No problem, Sardara Jee,’ Naimat Bibi quickly assured their much-liked elder friend.
Kulsoom stood up, straightening her head shawl on her oily, scraped-back hair. ‘Right,
‘Thank you, my friends. I am truly very grateful to you for coming to see me and telling me about all this. I really appreciate it.’ The breakfast and the creamy yoghurt had lost its significance.
‘Did you ever imagine that something like this would happen in our village, Sardara Jee?’ Kulsoom asked. ‘God keep evil and its shadow away from our young children and us. Oh, how could I forget? How silly of me. I haven’t told you the most important bit. Hajra has threatened the slut and Fatima that she is going to see Baba Siraj Din and have them publicly shamed in a
kacheri
. She is probably there now in his hawaili. Can you imagine, there being a kacheri on this topic? Ooh!’ Kulsoom triumphantly ended, reaching the climax of her storytelling and having successfully managed to evoke a look of sheer wonderment on the milk woman’s face.
‘What do you think will happen to them?’ Sardara whispered, bemused by the strange images wickedlydancing around in her head and before her eyes – afraid to voice aloud her thoughts. Kulsoom steadily held her friend’s gaze and smiled.
‘Your guess is as good as mine. There is no doubt that Hajra will insist on a public shaming – to avenge her daughter, of course.’ Kulsoom’s voice dipped in an awed whisper. ‘We have never had somebody commit adultery here in the village before, have we?.’
‘No, not to my knowledge. I am finding all this so hard to believe, my friends. Allah pak forbid. What is happening to our village? It frightens me that something like this can take place on our doorsteps. On our pak zemin. What do you think they’ll do to her? To
them
I mean – for both should be shamed, shouldn’t they? I am sure she didn’t physically drag him out of his wife’s bed. Haroon went to her willingly didn’t he?’
‘We don’t know who did the dragging, but they were caught together. Nor do we know what is going to happen. But of course we’ll keep you informed. Don’t worry, Sardara Jee, we know your legs give you trouble. One of us will make sure that you get to know everything. Of course, if a kacheri is held, you wouldn’t want to miss that for the world – would you, Sardara Jee?’ Kulsoom Jee slyly asked.
‘Definitely not! But …’ Sardara knitted her eyebrows thoughtfully. The Madrasah courtyard where the kacheri was normally held by the Buzurgh was in the other
mala
– the other section of the village, where Chaudharani Kaniz’ hawaili was. Normally the kacheri court function held no particular interest for Sardara. It was a men’s affair. She had plenty to get on with – seeing to the smooth running of the dairy. The buffaloes had to be fed and milked twice a day and then there was the milk to be dealt with, or to be made into
khoya
,a milky fudge, that she sold to the sweet shops in the nearest town.
This, village crisis, however, merited special attention. Sardara decided that for once her dairy could wait. Even if her legs were swollen out of shape for days afterwards from all the walking, she wouldn’t miss this kacheri for anything in the world!
‘No, I will definitely be attending, Kulsoom,’ she resolutely told her friends. ‘Do call me, when you go – but try to call early. Remember my poor legs. I have to be very gentle with them.’
‘Of course. No problem, Sardara Jee,’ Naimat Bibi quickly assured their much-liked elder friend.
Kulsoom stood up, straightening her head shawl on her oily, scraped-back hair. ‘Right,
Similar Books
