The Holy Woman (40 page)

W
ITH THE COLLEGE
closed for the summer, Firdaus returned home for the holidays. She was dreading her stay in the village. The thought of meeting Khawar disconcerted her. She still hadn’t recovered from his last visit and verbal attack. Her conscience often pricked her, it made her think and reflect on the scene of Kaniz going down on her knees and begging for her hand. The trouble was, the more she thought of that unseemly incident, the more wracked she became by it. By the second day at home she was shuddering with guilt; the urge to tell her mother all about it became very strong. For Kaniz was only a street away. There was every chance of accidentally meeting her.

Kulsoom had deigned to grant them her presence again. Treated as an honoured guest, she ate a hearty breakfast of two
parathas
and an omelette, finished off with a bowl of creamy yoghurt fresh from Sardara’s dairy. When pressed to stay for lunch, Kulsoom made a half-hearted pretence at declining and then readily agreed. Fatima, her cheeks filling with secret laughter, and her daughters took this behaviour with good humour and in their stride. ‘After all, it’s a small reward for bringing about the match between Salma and the bachelor from the neighbouring village,’ Fatima found herself telling her daughters in a
conciliatory
effort to convince them, and herself, that the amount being lavished on Kulsoom, including the breakfasts and lunches was justified.

Since Firdaus had left the village, having declined to
discuss her marriage plans with anybody, Fatima had decided instead, to concentrate on fixing a match for her other, more willing daughter, Salma. Firdaus wasn’t the only one she had to think of. This way, she ensured that at least
one
of her three daughters would be
married
. ‘If Firdaus isn’t careful, she will be left on the shelf,’ Fatima fumed inwardly. She was beginning to lose patience with her eldest daughter. ‘The girl is nearly thirty, for heaven’s sake. I had had four children by then. Who is going to want her at this age, despite her qualifications?’

Fatima had already sorted out her Salma’s dowry. The furniture had been especially ordered from a
prestigious
Karachi store. Now all that remained was to set the date for the wedding. Kulsoom had a special
purpose
for her visit. She had arrived to discuss with Fatima the question of what presents were to be given to the groom and his family. She thought herself
duty-bound
to bestow upon Fatima, for whom it was a first occasion, some of the knowledge from more than two decades of experience in arranging weddings and
preparing
trousseaus.

‘Listen, Kulsoom, my heart tells me to order a gold earring set and a matching locket. I would like to give that as a present very much. We can afford it,’ Fatima justified to Kulsoom, seeing the latter’s eyes open wide in surprise.

‘You don’t have to, you know. You mustn’t get
carried
away now, Fatima Jee. Remember, you still have two other daughters to marry off, and you will have to do the same for them, in all fairness. It is up to you, of course, I would think twice about it. Now, what about the suits? How many were you thinking of giving her?’

‘I wanted to consult you and Firdaus on that.’

‘I see. Talking about Firdaus, Fatima Jee, I haven’t seen much of her today.’ Kulsoom allowed herself the luxury of this observation.

‘She’s probably tired. There is quite a bit of work to do at the end of the college summer term, with exams and so on. However, I too have noticed that she is a bit cagey, not at all her normal, lively self at the moment, Kulsoom Jee.’

‘Do you want me to liaise with my fellow
matchmaker
in the town to find a suitable
rishta
for Firdaus?’

‘I would like that very much, Kulsoom Jee, but I don’t want you to do anything until I have talked to her about it. I do not wish to proceed without her
permission
,’ Fatima hastened to add.

‘What about Khawar?’ Kulsoom asked quietly.

‘That chapter is finally closed.’ Fatima shook her head sadly, a wistful look coming into her eye. ‘I was a foolish, ambitious woman, wasting both my time and theirs. I have learned to my cost that it is no use pursuing a dead cause.’

‘I see,’ Kulsoom said thoughtfully, her brain alive with curiosity. ‘Have you heard that the Chaudharani Kaniz has been ill lately, and has not been seen by anyone for the last few weeks? Have
you
seen her? She has not called me for over two years, so I don’t know what she is doing about her son’s marriage.’

‘No, I haven’t seen her, nor do I
want
to see her – or hear anything about that woman either!’ Fatima retorted, recalling the last scene between herself and Kaniz, which was still fresh in her mind. Thank
goodness
she hadn’t set eyes on that harridan since then!

On hot summer nights, Firdaus and Fatima, like many other rural people in Pakistan, loved sleeping out in the
open on the rooftops of their home. Mother and daughter laid out their cool, quilted cotton bedding on their portable beds, which were placed side by side.

Fazeelet and Salma on the other hand preferred to sleep inside downstairs, under the ceiling fans. If it happened to rain, it was just too much bother for them rushing from their beds, to scurry around collecting their bedding and dashing indoors. Their father always slept in the open courtyard downstairs.

Fatima and Firdaus settled down to sleep. Propping her pillow into shape and pulling the thin cotton top sheet over her body, Firdaus lay back and glanced up at the stars. She turned her face towards her mother. ‘These pests!’ Fatima snapped, as she vigorously fanned away a large mosquito, intent on playing around her face.

‘Mother, I wanted to tell you something,’ Firdaus began quietly.

‘Yes?’ Fatima offered half-heartedly. ‘Oh, these nuisances! I think I will have to get the mosquito nets out soon. I never thought when we bought one in Hyderabad that we would need to use them in Chiragpur. These pests have even invaded our village. I thought only the cities had them.’ She yawned loudly. It had been a long day.

‘Chaudharani Kaniz came to see me,’ Firdaus announced.

Now she had her mother’s undivided attention.

‘What? When was this? Why didn’t you tell me?’ Fatima asked all at once, sitting bolt upright and forgetting all about the mosquitoes.

‘It was a few weeks back.’

‘My goodness, daughter, why didn’t you tell me? What did she say?’ she marvelled. The excitement
in her mother’s voice both dismayed and depressed Firdaus.

‘Well, I have only been home since yesterday, Mother,’ she said peevishly.

‘So, go on, tell me what happened,’ Fatima asked impatiently. Her heartbeat was now racing out of
control
. She wanted to know what Kaniz had been up to, visiting her daughter.

Firdaus, for her part, felt no pleasure at the prospect of telling her mother all about Kaniz’s visit. Fatima’s eyes already glowed with sly expectation. How will she react when I describe how Kaniz went down on her knees and begged for my hand in marriage? Firdaus wondered apprehensively. She would probably jump right out of bed with joy! Until she heard the rest of the story.

Firdaus decided to honour her mother with the whole truth. The matter with Khawar was weighing heavily on her heart and nerves. She desperately needed to share her burden with somebody.

‘She came to ask for my hand in marriage,’ Firdaus stated, staring once more at the stars above her in the dark sky.

‘Oh my God. Did she really? I can’t believe it!’ Fatima’s eyes feasted on her daughter’s face in
wonderment
.

The cotton sheet thrown aside, her legs now
practically
dangled out of the bed, her feet drumming with a dull beat on the concrete floor of the rooftop. Firdaus gulped at the thought of what she had to say next.

‘That is not all, Mother. Chaudharani Kaniz went on her knees and held up her hands in front of me and
begged
me to marry Khawar.’ Firdaus stopped, dreading the next bit of information she had to impart.

Fatima was now virtually speechless and spellbound. The image of Kaniz on her knees, begging her
daughter
, Firdaus, to marry Khawar was a bizarre dream – one too good to be true! She didn’t know what she was supposed to feel. Different emotions – triumph, astonishment, disbelief – battled inside her.

At last, all she said was: ‘When did this happen? Why didn’t you tell me? Did she really go on her knees? I just don’t believe it! That proud, arrogant woman … begging.’ Fatima’s head shook on her shoulders in wonder.

‘Yes.’ Firdaus licked her dry lips, before she dropped the bombshell. ‘And I turned her down.’

Khawar’s words of condemnation tapped at her brain. A masochistic urge to punish herself compelled Firdaus to continue harshly: ‘And while she begged, Mother, and held her hands out to me, I opened the door and ordered her to leave.’

A hushed silence descended as Fatima wrestled to absorb the astounding news which her daughter had carelessly just thrown her way.

Firdaus was painfully aware of the tense silence. Her mother’s breathing was the only sound apart from the mosquito buzzing around Fatima’s face. The insect was forgotten however, as her thoughts did wild
somersaults
in her head. The twin images of her daughter standing with the door open and Kaniz on her knees, hands held out together in front, outraged her every sense of social decorum and human decency.

At last finding the use of her tongue: ‘Firdaus! How could you?’ Fatima screeched out in the darkness of the night, her voice expressing both her utter dismay and distaste. ‘Where did your sense go, my girl? I cannot believe that you did this!’

‘I know,’ Firdaus answered miserably, recoiling from her mother’s words. ‘But there was nothing else for me to do.’

‘Nothing else to do? I don’t know what has
happened
to you. I thought that I had done a good job in raising considerate, well-mannered, intelligent daughters – but I have just discovered, to my horror, that I have a very thoughtless and a hard-hearted woman as my eldest daughter. Do you realise what it must have cost that woman to come crawling to you and beg on her knees, Firdaus? And you – you cruelly threw it back in her face! I have always disliked that woman, but, Firdaus, what you have done is
unforgivable
. It goes against all the rules of decent human conduct. Nobody deserves what you have done, not even one’s worst enemy. Poor woman!’ Fatima
shuddered
at the image of Kaniz on her knees.

‘Please, Mother, stop. Khawar has already abused me on this subject,’ Firdaus appealed, feeling more
miserable
than she had anticipated.

‘When did you see Khawar? What did he say?’ Fatima asked in an incredulous voice. ‘You mean to say you have been keeping all this to yourself – and leaving us in the dark!’

‘It is nothing worth telling,’ Firdaus mumbled, loath now to repeat what Khawar had said to her. The word
dross
still rankled, terribly.

‘You said that he abused you. What do you mean?’ Fatima demanded, Then angrily: ‘Tell me, Firdaus! What did he say?’

‘OK, Mother, if you must know, let’s just say that he was very angry indeed. He called me … things.’

‘I am not surprised, my girl. You deserved it all.’

‘He said that he was wiping his hands of me for
good,’ Firdaus said wretchedly. She knew she had now truly dumped her mother’s dream to the bottom of the well.

‘Well done, my daughter. Congratulations. You’ve got your come-uppance well and truly,’ Fatima jeered. ‘God knows what it cost that woman to come crawling to you, but you didn’t have the grace to appreciate it. No, you had to be small-minded and petty about it and throw it back in her face. I tell you, daughter, learn this well and truly: never throw a good thing away! Do you think he will glance at you ever again, let alone marry you, when you have done this to his mother? Firdaus, he might have been besotted with you, but let me tell you: a woman is nothing in a man’s eyes, when it comes to his mother. He has sacrificed a lot for you. Quarrelled with his mother and left home on your behalf. And you didn’t even have the sense, let alone the charity, to welcome his mother and accept what she came to offer.

‘On the contrary, you threw her out. An older woman – a
chaudharani
! A woman who could have been your mother-in-law. Oh Firdaus, I am so ashamed to have you as my daughter. I cannot believe that your pride made you so cruel.’ Fatima rocked herself to and fro for a minute. She didn’t look at her daughter, couldn’t bear to, so she didn’t see how Firdaus suffered. Eventually she came to a decision.

‘Until you have apologised to that woman, Firdaus, for your insensitive behaviour, and asked for her
forgiveness
– on
your
knees – I will not forgive you myself. That is my ultimatum. Now have you anymore unpleasant shocks to divulge to me while you are about it, daughter dear?’ Fatima clipped sarcastically.

‘I am sorry, Mother. I will do as you suggest. Perhaps then I will gain some peace of mind,’ Firdaus sighed.

‘Huh! My selfish daughter still thinks only of
herself
– about her own peace of mind? What about the other woman’s mind. You probably turned her world upside down. It is not your peace of mind I care much for at the moment. It is for that poor soul, whose ego must have taken quite a battering at your hand. If your conscience will let you, go to sleep now, if you can. For I will not be able to sleep a wink.’ Fatima clucked her tongue in distress! ‘First I abused her in her very home, then you did this! It wouldn’t be any wonder if she didn’t have nightmares about us two!’

Propped up on her pillow, she twisted the head of the tall portable fan, standing near the bed, in her
direction
. Then she loosened the top button of her muslin nightshirt. Her body was on fire and she was in no mood to go to sleep. Fatima’s eyes turned in the direction of Kaniz’s
hawaili
, the ‘wretched pests’ of mosquitoes as they were swept away by the fan’s breeze now totally forgotten.