by Taj63622
Chapter 37
The electricity has gone out again. Sabina said that this is the second time this week.
Her eyes struggled to adjust, and it was so eerily dark that she could not at least make out the silhouette of the furniture. To her relief, she hears Sabina scatter around the drawers, possibly looking for candles or maybe a torch. Finding nothing to assist their eyes, Sabina tells her to wait here, while she fetches a lantern from elsewhere. She hears the distinct sound of the locks and doors opening, and waits patiently for Sabina’s return. When nobody returns or comes to her aid, thus garnering a feeling of neglect, she decides to venture out of the room instead. Frantically calling out everyone’s name, she bumps into someone. She apologises, and asks whom she bumped into.
‘Shah,’ a strangely familiar deep voice filters through the darkness
‘You must be Sabina's brother?’ she asks, her language instinctively returning to the ease of English.
‘Yes,’ he agrees doubtfully. ‘Who may you be?’
‘Her sister-in-law-to-be,’ she answers.
‘Sadia?’ he asks, torn between surprise and confusion at her suddenly strong English accent.
‘No,’ Mayah corrects him. ‘I am Mayah, her new sister-in-law. Did Shumi Aunty not explain?’
‘No, I just arrived home,’ he explains with an uneasy laugh. ‘You sound as if you are from the UK?’
‘I am. It’s a very long story. If we had some light then perhaps I could explain,’ she adds ruefully.
She notices a faint absconding of light from the oil lantern in the distance, and brings it to his attention. He turns around quickly, denying her the opportunity to put a face to the bizarrely familiar voice. His back turned towards her, both brother and sister have a short conversation, in which Sabina dutifully explains her newfound sister-in-law, mentioning that she is also a Londoner.
‘Small world,’ her brother says in a light laugh, as he turns around at her again, whereupon he stops abruptly.
The sheer coincidence is far too haunting to admit the likelihood of its possibility.
‘Taxi?’ he says
‘Heavy Load?’
‘You are Sabina’s brother?’ she asks distastefully.
‘You will be my sister’s sister-in-law?’ he asks, not liking the prospect much either. His disbelieved gaze drops to her sari. At once, he begins to form theories of how she was suddenly related to his sister. Heavy Load must have finally married the man he saw her with at the sweetmeat shop many weeks ago. Her husband must be a close relative to the groom’s family. Immediately, he considers the way he addressed her, for whether or not he liked it, Heavy Load has become his sister’s relation. He did not wish to ruin his sister’s reputation by being the argumentative brother, who cannot speak to women politely.
‘Sorry for my uncouth behaviour,’ he apologises in a way as to render it insincere.
Her nose lifts proudly in the air at the overdue apology.
‘I welcome you to my house,’ he continues, smiling pleasantly. ‘Does your husband also join us?’
Husband?
The lights come on dramatically. Sabina blows out the candle, and the fresh smell of wax accumulates between them. Dhadhi and the rest of the party soon join them. They all look very admiringly at her sari, and she blushes, much to her annoyance. Thankfully, their study was brief, when Dhadhi notices a new arrival amongst them. Shumi Aunty dutifully introduces her son, but Dhadhi seems oblivious. There was a strange look on her face as she studies Taxi. There was a strange look on Taxi’s face as he studies Dhadhi. They have met before.
‘Airport,’ Taxi and Dhadhi say together.
She watches the exchange in puzzlement.
‘Thief,’ they say together again.
A small world this certainly is.
Until now, she was willing to believe that the six degrees of freedom is purely a myth, produced by a loner, who had no relation, and was eager to prove that someone or other, somehow or other, was related to him. How brutally Taxi disproved her belief! From the combined population of UK and Bangladesh, she, Mayah Mohuddin-Young is to become a close relation of Taxi, otherwise known as Shah Abeel and more commonly addressed as “Baba”, which his mother and uncle referred to him. This also explains why she mistook him to be the father of those children he saw him with many weeks ago at the sweetmeat shop. Dhadhi and Taxi first met at the airport, on the very first day of their arrival to the country. He was the very person, who rescued Dhadhi from the thieves, who wanted to steal their luggage. She did not know whether to cry or wonder at the intricate design Fate. The other family members have also become aware of how they met. Everyone was in equal amazement.
Despite her efforts, she cannot seem to budge the feeling that she owes Taxi thanks. He did not have to help Dhadhi that day. He could have ignored those thieves. But he did not ignore. He did help. She must thank him.
The new relatives from South Sylhet have also joined them. As usual, all peered at her wondrously, asking after her marital status, and delicately highlighting the fact that someone they knew is looking for a wife. If Dhadhi permits, must they take a picture of her and show it to this unknown man to gain his approval of her being his legally wedded wife? Only she knows how hard she resisted from laughing, both at their request and of placing Dhadhi on the spot to answer. Thankfully, Shumi Aunty turned the whole conversation into a joke, thus retrieving Dhadhi from her stunned state.
‘Where are you going, Mayah?’ Rabia Chachi asks interestedly, as she gets up from the sofa.
‘Washroom,’ she lies with crossed fingers.
Rabia Chachi did not appear convinced, but it did not falter her determination to find Taxi. Therefore, leaving the elderly party, who were engaged in a lively discussion of politics, she searches room after room for Taxi. It was very late in the evening. Every time Nazrul Chahcha suggested they should leave, a new discussion diverted them from doing so. Needless to add, he was getting very annoyed.
As she walks along, she recalls snippets of her conversation with Sabina. The girl gave an extended narrative of her family’s history. Quite often, she heard a sorrow in Sabina's voice, particularly when she spoke of her mother’s anguish of bearing the distance from her son. The want of fortune and quest for betterment had compelled her mother to make a bitter decision. Her mother would not cry when she bade him leave at the airport, but upon coming home, she was inconsolable. Sabina also shared her own grief of seldom having her brother around. How many mothers and sisters must suffer the same anguish? Has Taxi suffered any less? He has also endured the absence of his mother.
She stops by Sabina’s room, but for some peculiar reason, did not want to ask her of her brother’s whereabouts, despite the purity of her intention. She scurries along, peering into each passing room. It may very well be that Taxi is not at home. No sooner said that she enters a room, where Taxi was undressing from his shirt. She did not know who was more embarrassed - her, who walked in without permission, or him, who almost lost his chastity by bearing his uncovered chest. Either way, he quickly pulls his shirt over him, while she hastily reverses her steps out of the room, before Taxi stops her. ‘Have you no manners?’ he reprimands her. ‘Could you not knock before you enter?’
‘The door was open,’ she snappishly says over her shoulder, not knowing whether he was decently dressed to talk to his face. ‘If you were getting changed, you should do so behind closed doors.’
‘This is Bangladesh,’ he reasons, ‘men don’t close doors to get changed. But I can understand why you were impelled to overlook that fact in this instance.’
‘What do you mean?’ she demands, infuriated by his implicative comments. She makes a half-turn to look at him, but he quickly discourages her by saying he was not decent. She did not know whether he was speaking the truth or pulling her legs. There was an audible presence of humour in his voice, which inclined her to believe the latter.
‘I don’t know about your honour,’ he says cautiously,
‘but if any should see you gazing at me while I’m indecently dressed, then my honour would surely be at stake.’
His mother has related to him all there is to know about Heavy Load and Dhadhi. He was impressed at her success of finding the unseen.
To prove his indecently dressed state would not affect her, she indignantly turns around at him. As suspected, he was decently dressed, sitting comfortably on a chair, with that smile which irritated her greatly.
‘I knew you couldn’t resist,’ he teases her.
To think she ever wanted to thank him! To think she sympathised with his unfair childhood! But she must thank him, and free herself of that debt.
‘Thank you,’ she says the words forcefully.
‘Because I’m irresistible?’ he asks with mock innocence.
‘For helping Dhadhi the other day,’ she corrects him, ignoring his cheap flirting techniques.
‘Don’t mention it,’ he says smoothly.
‘I would not have had it not involved Dhadhi.’
She said what she came to say, and now she will leave.
‘You still owe me,’ he quickly says, stopping her immediately in her tracks. She turns around and looks confusingly at him. He gets up from his chair, and calmly approaches her.
‘I paid the damages of the taxi in that traffic jam,’ he reminds her. ‘You have not paid me back.’
‘What happened to your lecture about humility, or humanity, or whatever you lectured me about that day?’
‘All still there, except that you are now my sister’s sister-in-law. It is very important to keep family and money as separate as possible. Who knows, we may fallout someday, and I may be tempted to taunt you by reminding you that you are in debt to me.’
She wondered when they were ever friends to risk fallout.
‘Very well,’ she says curtly. ‘I shall write you a cheque. Shall I make it payable to Taxi?’
‘So long as you sign it Heavy Load,’ he shrugs, smiling pleasantly.
She wanted to retort something, but her irritation was such that she could not order her words. Much to her appreciation, she hears Dhadhi call her. They were leaving. She took his leave as orderly as she can muster.
She walks away, and he escorts her, as if he were a true gentleman.
Rabia did not like what she saw.
Believing the girl was in the washroom, she went there to collect her. Instead, she incidentally notices the girl leave Shah’s room. Such conduct was acceptable in English countries, but here it can give rise to grave speculation. A boy and girl of no superior connection must not be so intimate that an onlooker is compelled to form conjectures of their relationship. She must remind the girl of the etiquette of this country. Rife rumours can have detrimental effect on the prospect of her second son’s visa application, and on Tanni’s marriage to Shah. She must advice the girl to keep her distance from him.
As they sit in the car, he comes over to bid them another farewell. As he spoke, his gaze involuntarily seeks out Mayah. Rabia watched the exchange in great disturbance, which grew even greater when the girl said something in English.
‘Please thank your sister again for gifting me the sari,’ Mayah politely says. ‘We shall meet at the wedding.’
‘Maybe even sooner,’ he warns her, ‘if you’re lucky.’
Now she can really enjoy Bangladesh.