Until We Meet Again in Jannah

by Laki Khan

  It was nearly afternoon and I still had not completed any of the chores; the last thing I wanted was for Omar to return to an unkempt house and question what I had been doing the entire day. So I frantically began sweeping away the dust that had collected across the kitchen floor and tidied the stove so that I could start preparing dinner. My mind remained heavy and overwhelmed with worry while my body was paralysed with exhaustion. Today I missed my home and would have given anything to have my old life back: the life I lived before I fell prey to becoming a third wife and then a maid. I was holding on to hope for a miraculous solution to appear, although I knew the chance of that actually happening was minimal.

  Chapter 11 – Memoirs of a Lost Village

  I placed Omar’s dinner on the table hoping that it would remain warm till he returned, and retired to bed. I lay down, stretching out my heat-swollen feet, allowing my entire body to sink into bed. I was physically exhausted but I felt alert. A thousand thoughts spiralled through my mind that refused to shut down, all coming back to my current dilemma. Staring up to the ceiling I thought about Sumayah, who always had a way to relieve my burden and managed to help me focus on the positive side of things; today I was in dire need of that support and direction.

  The next morning I entered the kitchen to find that the table had been cleared and the chairs tucked away neatly. I couldn’t remember whether or not I had heard Omar return.

  ‘Morning, Saira.’ I started at the voice that came from behind as I began to brew tea.

  ‘Morning,’ I replied, fastening my hijab securely around my face.

  ‘How is Ammu?’ he continued.

  ‘She’s not too great today,’ I said. Before allowing me to finish my sentence he had begun walking in the direction of her room. I placed my hands on my hurting head and continued to prepare breakfast, then went into Ammu’s room to find her sitting up beside Omar, chatting and smiling.

  ‘Saira, can we have our breakfast in here today?’ he suggested cheerfully. I nodded and served them breakfast, sitting close by. I don’t know how he achieved it, but Omar had a way of optimising the little happiness Ammu had left; they appeared to enjoy each other’s company in ways that were beyond my comprehension. I walked back to the kitchen, still anxious, and stood out on the patio staring at the meadow ahead. I was yet to find a means of purchasing the medication; the only resolution appeared to be resorting to Omar for support. How could I ask him for financial help? He was in no way related to us and we would soon leave this house, never to return. Why should he help us? He had already done so much by allowing us to be sheltered in his house when everybody else had deserted us. These questions filtered through my mind one by one, only increasing my anxiety.

  ‘A penny for them,’ I heard someone say. I turned around to find Omar standing beside me.

  ‘Sorry, did you say something?’ I asked, confused.

  ‘You look a little distracted. Is everything all right?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes, I’m fine, just a little tired,’ I replied.

  ‘Why don’t you take some rest with Ammu,’ he advised.

  ‘No, I am absolutely fine. I will clean your room today,’ I said, returning to the kitchen. I needed to avoid Omar finding out the truth.

  ‘Saira, if you’re worried about anything, you know I’m always here to help,’ he said, following me into the kitchen.

  ‘Everything is fine. Can you please leave your laundry just outside the room,’ I said and hurried out.

  I then applied the remainder of the neem paste on Ammu’s legs, massaging them thoroughly, and made a start on cleaning. I swept all the dusty rooms one by one, collected the dirty laundry and headed down to the big pond. It was nearly midday and the sun was out, bright and hot, with very little breeze, making the air humid and sticky. My feet were still swollen so I walked barefoot enjoying the warmth of the concrete path under my bare soles. I walked towards the inviting coolness of the water, greeting fellow village women who, just like me, had come to wash their laundry. Dipping my feet into the water I sat enjoying its coolness. The angelic-faced boy was far out into the pond today, swimming with a gentleman who I presumed to be his father. I waved at him and then began my mundane task of washing the clothes.

  ‘Apa, did you find your doctor?’ I felt a tug on my arm and then saw his sweet face looking directly at me.

  I looked at him and replied, ‘Thank you so much for your help, and I haven’t forgotten your candy.’ I looked over at his father who had followed him out of the pond to greet him out of courtesy. Much to my horror I turned around only to see Omar standing there, drenched, looking at me in confusion. I was shocked as I looked at him and then looked away swiftly.

  ‘Shall we play cricket now?’ I heard the little boy ask Omar, and they walked side by side towards the path I had taken yesterday. I was horrified to discover Omar here at the pond – what if he learnt the truth about where I had been yesterday? What answer would I give him when he questioned me about what he had just overheard? I didn’t want to offend him, especially after the hospitality he had bestowed upon us. I returned to the house and climbed up to the white-picket-fenced rooftop with the load of wet clothes weighing me down physically, while panic weighed on me mentally. How many lies would I have to tell to conceal the cold reality of yesterday, I thought aloud. I stood on the rooftop staring out to the big pond. The serene sight gave me momentary relief from the magnitude of worries so painfully attached to this chapter of my life.

  I scrubbed the bathroom floor, even though I had only completed this task a few days before, in the hope that this would be the best distraction from the thought of any questions Omar might have for me upon his return. Strangely enough I found this vigorous cleaning to be therapeutic, almost as if I was trying to scrub away my worries.

  My much-loved time of day arrived quickly today; it was twilight and the sound of the melodious call to prayer brought me harmony, almost signifying a glimmer of hope. Omar had not returned, which left me imagining that perhaps he had discovered the truth, as he always informed either myself or Ammu of his plans for the day. Just as I had finished preparing dinner I heard the door open followed by Omar. I avoided making eye contact as he walked through the kitchen and down the hallway, and I began breathing so fast that I felt dizzy. I was still standing there when he returned to the kitchen with Ammu beside him. Smiling, I pulled out a chair for her and she sat down carefully.

  ‘How are you, Ammu?’ he asked her.

  ‘I am perfectly fine,’ she replied, looking at us both.

  ‘Shall we eat, Saira?’ he said, looking in my direction. I was taken aback to say the least. He was acting completely normally, which suggested that he had not discovered the truth, and if he had, why was he still acting normally? This debate continued in my mind all through dinner. In fact, I was so consumed by it that I sat obliviously scraping a spoon against my plate.

  ‘Saira, what’s wrong?’ I jolted as Ammu asked, bringing my attention back to reality.

  ‘Err… nothing. I was going to brew some ginger tea for us all,’ I replied, rushing to the stove in an attempt to hide my face. I knew Ammu could read me like a book. I swiftly began to brew the tea as Omar began a conversation about cricket with Ammu, although she continued to look in my direction for a few more minutes and then immersed herself fully in conversation with him, much to my relief. The three of us sat out on the front patio drinking warm ginger tea – a perfect remedy to the hot and dusty weather, although there was a lovely breeze tonight. The stars were bright as I stared up at the beautiful moonlit canvas, momentarily resting my racing mind. Sitting here was perfect, as the darkness provided excellent cover allowing me to hide my emotions from them both.

  I still had no solution to the problem of Ammu’s medication, and now, on top of that, I needed to conceal it from Omar. Sitting quietly I listened to them talk about the village, which held a special place in his heart as it was the only connection he had with his beloved parents. He was truly praisew
orthy in every way possible and I could only imagine how immensely proud his parents would have been had they been alive.

  ‘You’re very quiet, Saira,’ said Ammu.

  ‘Just a little tired,’ I said.

  ‘Thank you for another lovely dinner, Saira. I have an early start tomorrow and will be back very late,’ Omar informed us. I tucked Ammu into bed and gladly surrendered my overworked mind for the night.

  The next day I rose to the sound of the tweeting of birds and as usual rushed into the kitchen, fastening my scarf. I needed to prepare Omar’s breakfast before he left so began to brew tea as fast as I could, then laid it on the table with his choice of snacks. The few days spent in this house had taught me about Omar’s preferred cuisine – likes and dislikes. I waited some time for Omar to walk through to the kitchen as he usually did by this time. I knocked on his door only to find an empty room. The bed was neatly made up with his clothes tidy and the room was immaculate, as always. He had already left; which left me wondering why.

  Ammu woke early so I served her breakfast and massaged her feet with the remainder of the home-made neem paste. ‘Would you like to sit on the patio today?’ I asked her. She agreed, as her pain appeared to have lessened. I figured the rays of sun would shine happiness onto her, too. I heard a voice.

  ‘Is anybody home?’ And then a second time. It sounded like a man’s voice, which immediately sent my heart into a frenzy. Omar hadn’t mentioned that anybody would come by today and I panicked in fear.

  ‘I have a delivery,’ I heard, and with sweaty hands approached the front patio. There was a young boy standing there in the white uniform of someone who worked in a doctor’s office.

  ‘Assalamualaikum,’ I said, trembling, in the hope that this unexpected visitor was nothing to do with Hamid.

  ‘Walaikumassalam,’ he replied, holding up a carrier bag. ‘I have a delivery for the name of Saira,’ he said. I stood still, puzzled; I had nothing that needed delivering.

  ‘What is it that you have?’ I replied. He handed the carrier bag to me, said goodbye and left before I could enquire where he had come from and what the delivery was. The carrier bag was securely sealed so I took it inside and curiously opened it at once. To my disbelief the bag contained medication for Ammu matching the exact items I was unable to afford. The boxes were labelled individually with Ammu’s name and the address of her doctor’s office. I sat down, puzzled, unable to understand how and why this medication had been delivered here. Surely the pharmacy would not dispense it without any payment and if not, then who had paid and arranged for this to happen?

  ‘Saira, what’s in the bag?’ Ammu called to me. I hurried out to her still holding the medication in my hand. Her face lit up with joy at once as if she had seen the light at the end of the tunnel; this made all my anxieties disappear right away.

  I continued with the housework as Ammu appeared a little stronger today and was even enjoying slowly moving around the house, thanks to the effect of the painkillers. It made me sad to think that only a few weeks ago she had been a successful businesswoman and today she was almost bed bound, overcome with emotional distress that had affected her both psychologically and physically. I continued to ponder how the medication had arrived; this was a mystery I needed to unravel. My poor mother was under the impression that I had arranged this, all the while causing me to feel guilty and completely inadequate.

  I planned to use the dozen fresh papayas that were literally hanging off the tree for dinner today as I figured it would be a lovely surprise for Omar. As I placed Ammu’s medication safely into my cupboard I noticed that the telephone number of the doctor’s office was written on the box. I wondered whether or not I should contact them. At least I would discover how the medication had arrived here and my mind would be at ease. Omar always left a spare cell phone in the house for me and Ammu to use in the event of emergencies. Hesitantly I took out the phone and dialled the number. Taking in a deep breath I informed the lady who answered of my name and situation, and then enquired about how and why the medication had been delivered here as I had not arranged for this. To say I was amazed and horrified at the same time would be an understatement when I heard the name of the person responsible. Shock turned into anger, and I struggled to understand the many emotions I was feeling. I contemplated whether or not I should confront this truth or bury it deep within me.

  Dusk was beginning to approach and with it this long emotional day was coming to an end. I prepared dinner, wondering whether or not Omar would return in time or later than expected. Ammu had eaten and taken her medication, seeming a little tired due to the walking she had been doing today. I felt indescribably happy seeing her move about independently just the way she used to. I sat beside her, thinking over the events of the day, wondering if I should have been grateful for the outcome, although there was a part of me that just would not let go of anger. It was almost 11 p.m. and Omar still had not returned. I wondered if he was avoiding me. A short while later I heard the door open and then close, followed by his footsteps, and I waited in anticipation.

  Chapter 12 – Misconceptions

  Omar seemed shocked to find me standing here at this hour. He immediately made eye contact; I could see he was as anxious as I was. ‘Saira, you’re still awake,’ he said, surprised. I did not respond and began to clear the table in a passive-aggressive manner. I had no intention of being cruel or unkind; however, for an unknown reason I had lost all control of my mental and emotional stability. ‘Saira, is everything okay?’ he asked.

  ‘No it’s not, nothing is okay,’ I said, almost shouting and then bit my lip as I did not want Ammu to wake and learn about any of this. I held my head and began to walk away, frustrating him even more, it appeared.

  ‘Tell me what’s wrong,’ he said firmly.

  ‘What’s wrong is that you have been spying on me,’ I blurted out. I took out the medication and presented it to him as evidence; he stared at me, bemused. ‘These arrived today and when I telephoned, they told me that you had arranged for them to be delivered for Ammu,’ I told him.

  ‘Yes, I did,’ he admitted.

  ‘But why? We are not your concern. I am very grateful that you are allowing us to stay here, but you have no responsibility for us. How did you even know I had gone there?’ I continued in a fit of rage. I took a deep breath and for a few minutes we were both quiet.

  ‘Saira…’ he began timidly.

  ‘I want to pay you back,’ I demanded fiercely.

  ‘You’re being ridiculous, Saira,’ he scoffed.

  ‘I want to pay you back,’ I repeated, anger echoing in my voice.

  ‘Why are you being so stubborn?’ he questioned.

  I began to take off my thin gold bracelet that dangled around my wrist, which was a much-loved gift from Ammu, and for her I was willing to make any sacrifice. I took it off and handed it to him, saying, ‘This should cover the expense.’

  His face was now filled with rage as if it were a mirror reflecting mine. He took the bracelet and placed it back into my hands with a determination I had not witnessed before. ‘I will not accept money or jewellery from you, do you understand that?’ he said, in a firm, angry voice. I had clearly offended him although that had not been my intention at all. ‘If you really want to hear the truth, then fine,’ he said in a submissive tone. ‘Jamal, the little boy that plays in the pond, told me over cricket that you had been worried and upset and you asked him to hail a rickshaw for you to travel to the doctor. That worried me so I telephoned the doctor’s office and they verified that you had gone to collect medication for Ammu.

  ‘My only intention was to help Ammu to feel better… Since you arrived I have grown fond of Ammu and I just wanted to help her. I don’t want anything in return, I assure you,’ he explained. ‘Anyway, I’m extremely sorry for upsetting you – that was not my intention,’ he said in a dejected tone and walked into his room.

  I stood in silence, wondering whether the events of my life had turned me
bitter to the extent that today I was questioning the only person who had displayed nothing but integrity, kindness and compassion towards us. That night I lay awake in bed ruminating and reflecting, totally absorbed by my shortcomings. I was thankful that Ammu had slept through my altercation with Omar as I knew all too well how fond of him she was. I decided that the next morning my first and foremost priority would be to apologise to him as sincerely as I was able. I realised that sometimes you cross paths with people who teach you to live life with a dose of humility. I began to accept that perhaps Omar was an exceptional human being and, like he said, he just wanted to help my mother. For this alone I was immensely grateful.

  I woke to the much-needed melody of the call to prayer and fully immersed myself in it, submitting all my worries to the Almighty with an abundance of gratitude. I rushed into the kitchen and began to brew the morning tea, noticing the stack of pots and pans which needed attending to. I served Ammu breakfast along with her medication and decided to knock on Omar’s door, only to find it wide open, which suggested that he had already left for the day. Ammu had already enquired about Omar twice this morning and both times I avoided her question, distracting her swiftly with something else altogether.

  I took the stack of pots and pans to the big pond, where I saw Layla walking with baby Khadijah. I greeted her and said, ‘Layla, thank you so much for looking after Ammu the other day. I really appreciate it and if you ever need anything please don’t hesitate to ask.’ I had forgotten to thank her the other day in my panic. She flashed her lovely smile as always and continued playing with her daughter. For a moment I watched them laughing together; the love expressed between a mother and child is so pure, innocent and unconditional, like the love I felt for my mother. I couldn’t help but think about Omar, and how as a child or an adult he had not experienced this unconditional love and perhaps that was why he felt inclined to help Ammu. I felt incredibly guilty about my behaviour towards him the previous night; how could I stand in his house and shout at him? I was appalled with myself. I saw angelic-faced Jamal splashing his legs high as he swam around, but to my disappointment he was alone and Omar was nowhere in sight. When I returned to the house carrying the clean vessels, Ammu was sitting in the open back courtyard looking out onto the captivating green scenery past the papaya trees. There was a serene, calm breeze complementing the brightness of the sunshine today, calming my mind for a short while. I loved the sunshine; it made me feel happy in so many ways. I missed my time with Sumayah terribly: days spent lounging in the heat, devouring the spicy, juicy flavours of fresh hog plum and lime Chanachur chutney prepared by Ammu. This was a delicacy back in our village – everybody loved Chanachur chutney prepared by her.