“You will have to wait for once in your life! Your father and I have given you what you wanted when you wanted it your entire life. You hurt someone you love because you didn’t want to hear to the truth because you decided in an instant what it was. You wait for him to forgive you.”
“Who said I loved him?” Morgiana asked, more unsettled than before.
“Why wouldn’t you? He’s the only man who wants and loves you exactly as you are. “You’ve been waiting for that your whole life. How could you not love him?”
There was nothing she could say. She did love him. His imperfections did not exasperate her at all, as silly as he could be. They made her love him even more. Khadijah was right. She would have to give him time.
Right before the setting of the sun, Abdullah was alone in the shop ready to close it. A man walked into the shop. Abdullah was his usual, cheerful self.
“Can I help you with something? I was ready to close, but I can stay open if there is anything you need.”
“I need all the money you have in the shop.”
Then, he pulled out his saber. He was very shaky and obviously drunk. Abdullah lunged for the saber and wrestled it from the inebriated thief. But he wouldn’t give up. He lunged back at Abdullah. They struggled and knocked over a vase. The saber fell from Abdullah’s hand.
Both Khadijah and Morgiana heard a crash and ran to see what it was. Morgiana told Khadijah to get the Guard. She dashed for her dagger and practically flew to Abdullah’s shop.
She arrived just as the man was reaching for the saber. She stabbed him in the hand, and then the leg. Abdullah grabbed her and placed her in back of him. He then took the dagger from her.
He bent down to speak to the man writhing in pain on the ground. In the harshest tone Morgiana had ever heard him speak in, he said, “Stay on the ground, lest I finish what the lady started and stab you in the heart.”
The man did as he was told. Abdullah turned back to Morgiana, but placed the dagger within reach. She was crying and shaking.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called you a fool, even if I was angry. I should have listened and known you wouldn’t have been a part of that.”
He sat her down in the chair. He crouched down in front of her. He took both her hands, caressing them softly.
“Shh… shh. Coming to my rescue again? This is becoming a habit for you isn’t it? I wonder why?”
Then, Khadijah came rushing in with the Caliph’s guard. They picked the wounded thief up off the ground. “We’ll need you both at the palace, Abdullah.”
“We’ll be along, shortly,” he responded.
“Yes, they’ll be along,” Khadijah beamed. Then, she rushed everyone out. Abdullah turned back to Morgiana, still holding her hands. He smiled, “Well?” “You know,” she smirked.
“After what you said yesterday, I deserve to hear it. You…” She stopped him by putting her forehead to his, “I love you.” “I have loved you since the day I met you.” “I love you,” she said, again.
“Then, marry me,” he said.
“Yes,” she said, through tears.
He kissed her and lifted her up out of the chair. Hand in hand, they walked towards the palace together.
The Poet, His Wife, and His Muse
One day while Shams was hunting in the forest as was his usual habit, his life was altered in a matter he never could have thought possible. It is one of the wonders of Allah how one of his misdirected arrows could put him in the right direction.
He was hunting on the banks of the Yamuna near his home when this mundane, yet divine, event took place. Hunting was one of his favorite pastimes. It was one he liked to do alone. It was one of the few things he could do without interference from anyone.
On this particular day, he spotted a large tiger. All was quiet. He positioned his bow, and just when he let go, there was a roar that caused the tiger to vanish. This roar startled him as well, but what rattled him even more, was the thunder clap that happened afterwards. Or so it seemed. He ran to the sound and saw the lifeless body of a towering Jinn. Gasping for breath over the rather large body, was a rather small fairy.
“Madam, are you alright?” he managed to ask, barely recovered from this sight.
“Yes.” she replied calmly.
“You saved me from this Jinn. I am indebted to you.” she added.
“What did he want from you?” Shams asked.
“Me. But since I am already married, that would be a problem. Thank you, again.”
“No need to thank me. Your friend startled the tiger I was pursuing. It is he who should be thanking you,” he smiled.
“Are you sure you are alright?” he asked, as he helped her to her feet.
“I meant it when I said I am indebted to you. Ask me for whatever you wish, and I will help you in any way I can.”
The next instant, she produced a new bow and handed it to him.
“There is nothing I want. I have everything I need.”
“I am not so sure. But when you are ready, you will ask. I will be here when you do.”
Then, she was gone.
At first glance, what could Shams the noble need? He was respected among the nobles and rulers of the Delhi Sultanate. From an early age, he was groomed to one day be a governor. He had a wife who he loved who was a strong woman with enough ambition for them both.
Nur grew up in the same world he did. In her own right, she was an excellent politician. With her help and connections, they rose up in the ranks quickly. They had a beautiful palace on the banks of the Yamuna. He had everything you would expect a young man of his station to have. Yet, he continually asked himself if this was what he really wanted.
More and more, he felt as if politics was not his real purpose. For most of his life, he was told this was his purpose. Of course, he had no reason to feel differently, but he still did. Although he had a natural inclination for politics and society, it did not fill his heart with joy.
What did fill his heart with joy, however was his wife, Nur. He was struck from the first meeting, because not only was she a beauty, she was highly intelligent. She displayed an inner strength that he had not seen in any of the other beauties at court. When he spoke to them, they offered him nothing but insincere flattery and placation.
Nur spoke with him honestly and directly. She was passionate about what she believed in. Most women never disagreed with him for fear of offending him and possibly losing a marriage prospect. Nur had no such fear. She unabashedly but respectfully disagreed with him. This boldness won his heart, and he knew he had to have this woman by his side for the rest of his life.
When they married, not only did he get a partner, he got a champion. She helped maneuver him into so many situations. With his ease and natural charm, he won over many. She became passionate about him and his success, so she propelled him forward. It got to a point where he felt like she did the thinking for them. Fortunately for them, her thinking was usually correct.
Over time, he felt less involved, almost like he was sleepwalking through his time at court. He felt no real connection to what he was doing. Of course, his eloquence and grace masked his disinterest.
All his life, his escape was his poetry. He would sit by the Yamuna or sit in his canoe and write. When he wrote, he was transported to a stunning reality where he was free. He never told anyone of this grand passion of his, not even Nur. Rather than risk disappointing those who loved him, he was content keeping this secret.
Yet, that was beginning to change. Although he had always lived in the world of sultans, nobles, and their stratagems to compartmentalize power, he grew increasingly dissatisfied with the superficiality of it all.
One day while he was immersed in these musings and basking in the sunset, the mysterious fairy appeared and sat next to him.
“Have you decided what you want from me, Shams?” “How did you know my name?”
“I have been watching you, trying to decide in what way to repay you.” “No need
. In any case, it is not within your magic to give me what I want.”
“Perhaps, it is not within my magic to give you what you want, but it is within my wisdom.” “Give me your name first, and perhaps, I will let you give me your wisdom,” he smiled. “Hadiyah.”
“What makes you so wise, Hadiyah Pari?”
“I would like to think I have gained knowledge of some value in my 500 years in this world.” “500! I would have guessed 100!” he laughed, knowing full well she looked as young as his wife.
“You would rather distract me with a feeble joke than give me a straight answer. My husband does the same thing. It doesn’t work for him, either,” she smiled.
“You find my joke feeble? You wound me.” “Why do you feel you can’t have what you want?”
“You speak softly, but you are a persistent one aren’t you?”
“Do you always act this way when someone tries to help you?”
“What can I say? We all have our parts to play. We just play them.”
“Are you playing a part or living a life?”
“Good question.”
“An easy one if you are aware of who are and what you want.”
“Not so easy when who you are and what you want are in two different directions.”
“Who says they have to be? Have an answer for the next time we meet.”
He turned around to look at her with the most confused look he had ever given anyone, but she wasn’t there to see it. She disappeared again.
“Why does she keep doing that? Why does any woman do anything? Because she can,” he said to himself.
When Shams returned home, he told Nur about this most recent encounter with Hadiyah. Nur, for her part, was intrigued by the whole situation. Other women never threatened her. She was confident enough to know that there was no one like her. She also trusted her husband. The fact that Hadiyah was already married didn’t hurt either.
One day when they were going for their evening walks, Hadiyah made one of her sudden appearances.
“Another beautiful evening isn’t it?” she asked.
“You must be Hadiyah. It is another beautiful evening,” Nur answered, excitement beaming in her face.
“Hadiyah Pari, may I present my wife, Nur?”
“It is wonderful to finally be able to speak with you,” Hadiyah said.
“I feel exactly the same way. Shams told me all about you,” she smiled.
“I was hoping you could help me decide how to repay your husband. The saving of a life seems to be a small favor to him.”
“I understand. It is difficult giving him gifts because he has everything and wants nothing. We’ll work on him together.”
They both laughed. Shams shook his head and stayed quiet, hoping not to be brought into the conversation. He got the unsettling feeling that the two of them together would disturb his peace.
“Hadiyah Pari, tell me about yourself. What brings you to Hindustan when you could be anywhere else in the world?” Nur asked.
“I was born here, on the Malabar Coast. So, Hindustan is home.”
“Where is your husband?”
“My husband is in Persia at the moment involved in some scholarly pursuit. After 300 years of marriage and traveling back and forth, I’ve lost track and interest,” she responded.
“300 years! You must have volumes of wisdom on marriage!” Nur exclaimed.
“You don’t need volumes of wisdom to make a marriage work, dear. Just a few basic, immutable truths.”
“Which are?” Nur asked, listening intently.
“You must operate as one but still be individuals, and you must love, accept, and support each other for what you are, not what you want each other to be. Trust and faith are essential, also. Life doesn’t need to be as complicated as people like to make it.”
Nur was quiet for a moment, absorbed in what Hadiyah had said. Shams was listening also, but thought it best to only speak when spoken to for the moment.
“Hadiyah, you must come visit me at my home. I enjoy thoughtful conversation and know that I can have many intriguing chats with you.”
“I would enjoy that very much,” she responded.
In an instant, Shams felt his impending doom. At the same time, he decided that worse things could befall him than two gorgeous, intelligent women shaking up his world.
The following evening, Shams was alone by the water, writing. Absorbed in what he was writing, he didn’t see Hadiyah take a seat behind him, reading over his shoulder.
“That is beautiful!” she exclaimed.
“What are you doing here? This is private.”
“Why? You should share it.”
“For what purpose? I am a nobleman and a politician. It is what I was born to do.”
“Is it? You looked so happy and peaceful writing that beautiful poem.”
“It does give me joy,” he smiled.
“You could give others joy with your poetry.”
“It is possible. I haven’t thought of that before. I have always been too focused on who I would disappoint.”
“Why would writing poetry disappoint the people around you?”
“Because I would rather be a poet than a politician.”
“What is wrong with being a poet? I don’t understand.”
“When those around you expect one thing of you and you deliver another, it’s usually a problem. For a time, it seemed logical for me to be a politician, but more and more, I have realized that politics is not my passion. My poetry is.”
“What does Nur say about this?”
“She is one of those I don’t want to disappoint.”
“She loves you. She would be the first person to understand.”
“I am not willing to risk hurting the person I love most.”
“How can you not realize that she will love and support you no matter what you do?”
“She has put so much energy into my career. How can I just turn around and tell her I want to be a poet now?”
“You should have faith in her.”
“And I know she has faith in me, which is why I won’t all of a sudden change direction. Now can we please leave it?”
“For now.” And she walked off.
The next day, Hadiyah paid Nur a visit, as she had promised.
“So wonderful to see you!” Nur exclaimed.
“Wonderful to see you, too, dear,” she replied.
Then, Shams came into the room. He smiled at both of them.
“So what is my schedule for the rest of the day, Nur?”
Hadiyah couldn’t hide the surprise in her face. Recovering quickly, she smiled at Nur while she was telling her husband his schedule.
“Enjoy your tea, ladies,” he said, on his way out the door.
“Do you do that every day?” Hadiyah asked.
“Give him his schedule? Yes.”
“You decide for him which meetings to take?”
“Yes. He doesn’t want to do it.”
“Have you ever asked him?” Hadiyah asked.
“Actually, no. I just know how these political circles work, and I have always just held his hand through it.”
“Nur, please don’t take offense at what I am about to say because I am trying to help you. But, are you his wife or his mother?”
Startled, she responded, “His wife, of course.”
“Then, let him be the husband. Let him make some of the decisions. Ask his opinions. He is very capable, as you know.”
“Yes, I know. I just want so much for him to have everything he wants.”
“Every man wants to be allowed to be a man.”
“You know, I never stopped to think of that. Thank you for the reminder.”
“We all need to be reminded every now and again.”
For the rest of afternoon, they had a pleasant time. They talked of politics, literature, and science. They talked of Hadiyah’s five children. Nur was fascinated when she found her philosophy on raising children was similar
to her views on marriage. She loved Hadiyah’s independent spirit and her encouragement of the ones she loved to be the same way. She enjoyed her company and made her promise to come again at the end of evening.
A few evenings later, Shams found himself in a rare situation. He was blocked from writing poetry. The more he tried to write, the more ridiculous it sounded. At the height of his frustration, Hadiyah came to him.
“At a loss for words?” she asked, smiling.
“That’s not funny, particularly to a poet,” he retorted.
“You have to be calm to be creative. The more you force it, the less you will produce.”
“You’re right.”
“Just look around you. There is no better inspiration in the world.”
“It usually is.”
“Listen to the water. Look at the moon. Feel her energy. Think of your beautiful wife.”
Then, they were both silent.
Shams became lost in his own thoughts for quite some time. When he found his way out, he wrote. He felt the flow of the words coming out, like he normally did. It was all very natural for him. When he wrote, he felt as if he and the Yamuna were one, flowing parallel with each other, both coming from and going to the same source. This was when he felt most alive, most passionate. He was grateful to Hadiyah. He wanted to tell her so, but found she had left him to it. He was grateful for that as well.
The next evening, Shams immersed in his writing again, felt someone breathing over his shoulder. He was startled but already knew it was Hadiyah. There was nothing for him to b do but shake his head and continue writing.
“I ask you again. Why don’t you share your beautiful poems with people?” she said.
“I will tell you again. It’s not what people want or expect from me.”
“Why does that matter?”
“I don’t want to disappoint anyone.”
“Even if you disappoint yourself?”
“As long as I can write, I am content.”
“Are you as happy as you could be being a would-be governor and a sometime poet?
He only stared at her.
She continued, “Are you really as happy as you could be when it is clear where your passion lies and you’re not following it?”
Shaherazade's Daughters Page 15