by Amjed Qamar
They sat quietly, and Nazia watched her mother drift off to sleep. She picked up the plate and ate cold lumps of rice balled together with bits of chicken. As she chewed the sticky mixture, she wondered if she would ever have the strength to make the sacrifices and choices Amma had made. She finished the food and stretched out beside Isha. She left the door of the servant quarters wide open so the sound of the main gate would reach her when the sahib and Seema returned.
Her thoughts swam together as she lay thinking of how much her life and her family had changed in the past few months. She wondered whether, if Abbu’s accident never had happened, she would still be at home in Gizri, asleep on the floor next to Isha. Would Bilal be with them? There was no way to be certain, but still the thoughts lingered even when the blare of a horn erupted in the night.
They were back. Nazia moved stiffly off the charpai, careful not to disturb her mother and siblings. Barefoot, she crept from the room, squeezing through the narrow opening without touching the door. As she hurried toward the front of the house, she heard the iron gate swing open and the car sputter into the driveway. At the edge of the house she peered past the hanging leaves of the rubber tree and the jasmine shrubs that rose up to the banister of the veranda. Was Sherzad in the car? Was his mother with him?
Seema and the sahib were alone. They entered through the front door without speaking a word. Nazia watched for a moment longer, then retreated while Abbu closed the gate. What did this mean? Why was Seema letting her father stay? Where was Sherzad’s mother? Had Parveen caught the boy at the station and taken him home? Or had the train already left when they had arrived at the platform? The uncertainty twisted itself in her stomach.
The idea of waiting until morning to know Sherzad’s fate made her gag. She clutched her stomach and pressed a hand against the wall of the house until the heaving was done. Depleted, she stumbled to the outdoor basin, where the dishes and laundry were done. She rinsed her mouth and splashed cold water on her face, then dried it with the bottom of her kameeze.
She sat on her haunches at the rim of the basin, her face buried in the stained cloth. Tears soaked her kameeze and seeped through to her palms. Did she cry for Sherzad’s capture or his freedom? There was no was way of knowing, but she remained by the rusty faucet until her shoulders stopped shaking and her calves ached from bearing her own weight.
When there were no more tears left, she wiped her nose with her shirt and struggled to her feet. She walked numbly back to her room and crawled onto the charpai.
Dim light from the neighbor’s house slipped through the crooked wooden slats of the door. Did Salman’s bedroom have windows? She tried to think back to the last time she had been to Uncle Tariq’s house, but it was too long ago. The home was south of Lahore, in a small village set far back in the fields. The house had two rooms besides the main sitting area, and the meals were cooked outside. After the wedding would she get her own room, or would they put a mattress on the floor for her?
They would come for her tomorrow.
Nazia turned toward her mother, only to find Amma awake, watching her. Nazia drank in her mother’s face, securing the precious image for when she was alone, when she would need it the most.
Nazia prayed silently for Allah to take care of Isha and Mateen, and especially Amma. She asked Allah to forgive her for what she was about to do, and she hoped that Amma wouldn’t think she was abandoning her in the same way Bilal had. When the time came, Nazia wanted the gates of heaven to be open for her.
Nazia went outside to the basin and washed herself before performing the last prayers of the day. She knew the time for the final namaz was over, but she wrapped a scarf around her head, stood facing Mecca, and offered the prayers anyway.
When she was done, she returned to the charpai and kissed Isha’s forehead. She hoped lines of worry would never crease her sister’s young skin. Gingerly she took off her scarf and covered her sister’s feet. While Amma watched, she kissed Mateen, then gathered her belongings into a plastic bag. There wasn’t much—only a few ragged shalwar suits and the precious pink chiffon outfit Maleeha had given her.
When Nazia was done, she turned back to Amma. Tears streaked her mother’s face.
“Don’t cry, Amma.”
“I am afraid for you.” Amma’s shoulders shook.
“But you know why I do this, don’t you?”
Amma rubbed her face.
Nazia set her bag on the ground and knelt down. She grabbed hold of her mother’s feet. “Please forgive me, Amma. If I don’t leave now, I will die slowly, softly, in a house that is not meant for me. I can’t bear to be Salman’s wife and spend the rest of my life stifling my own heart.”
Amma covered Nazia’s hands with hers as she struggled to speak without crying. “I know that, beta. I saw the vision long before it came to you.”
“If you knew . . . all this time . . . why didn’t you help me to understand?”
“Because the path you choose is a difficult one. One that no girl can ever find happiness in.”
“It is the path my heart chooses for me. And true happiness can only come when the heart is free.”
“I always thought that if I trained you well, taught you how to be an obedient daughter, one day you would make a good wife.”
“One day I will,” Nazia said. “Just not now. Not with my cousin.” She squeezed her mother’s feet. “Besides, it is you who taught me to make my own path.”
“How?” Amma shook her head. “How have I steered you wrong?”
“You don’t know if any of our choices are wrong or right, Amma. Your intentions were good, and that is all that’s ever mattered. You decided to seek work instead of letting us starve. You made choices for us when Abbu didn’t. Now I must make a choice for myself.”
“Where will you go, beta?”
She thought again of Ms. Haroon and her offer to help. She remembered her conversation with Maleeha on the beach. She had played those words in her mind over and over as she had struggled to find the strength to leave her family behind. “Maleeha said that Ms. Haroon will take me in. That is where I’ll begin.”
Amma only nodded, and the silence stretched out between them. “You say that with such certainty,” she said finally.
Nazia lifted her chin and puffed out her chest, the same way Sherzad had done that day they first met. “I have never been so sure of anything in my life.”
Amma touched Nazia’s lips. Suddenly she shifted her weight and moved clumsily off the charpai.
“What are you doing, Amma?”
“I’ve told you and I’ve tried to warn you. I know my children better than they know themselves.” Amma rummaged at the back of the servant quarters, rifling through her belongings. From the folds of a chadar she pulled out a small purse made of blue silk.
“What is that?” Nazia leaned forward.
Amma sat down on the charpai next to Nazia. “This is for you,” she said finally.
Nazia stared at the silken bag in her palms. She set the purse in her lap and carefully loosened the strings. She peered inside and gasped.
Nazia pulled out a thick roll of bills. All hundreds and five hundreds, and even a few thousand-rupee notes.
“I knew this day would come,” Amma said. “I’d hoped and prayed it would not. But of course Allah’s will rules over mine. He made you strong willed for a reason. He gave you thoughts that are usually reserved for men. He gave you wisdom that others were denied. Who knows why? We cannot fight it or deny it anymore, now, can we?”
Nazia held up the rupees. “But how?”
Amma waved a dismissive hand at the bundle of money. “You are destined to follow your own heart, not mine. Maleeha’s mother kept it safe for me, for you, all this time. When we left Gizri, she gave it back to me, just in case we needed to spend it. But I never did. I suppose I always knew that you would need it someday.”
“But this is so much money! You could have easily used it to replace the dowry.”
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bsp; Amma nodded. “I know. But by then a part of me already knew that marriage to your cousin was not your destiny.”
“Then, why did you push it?”
“I had to try, didn’t I?” Amma said, exasperated. “I’ve told you already — you have not chosen an easy path. But with every second that goes by, my insides are filling up with a peace denied. I know I am doing the right thing now. And you will be happy, I promise you that.”
Nazia sank against her mother in a tight embrace. Shukriya, Allah, shukriya! Thank you, thank you!
“Now, you keep these things safe here under the bed and sleep with me on the charpai for one last night. I am the one who took you from Ms. Haroon and brought you here. I will take you back to her myself.” Amma gave Nazia’s braid a gentle tug.
Nazia pulled back and wrung her hands as her elation turned to worry. “I don’t want to cause you any more trouble with Abbu and Uncle Tariq. What would happen if they knew you helped me? And what if they try to stop me in the morning? Uncle Tariq will force me on the train!”
Amma carefully tucked the purse into Nazia’s plastic bag and slid it under her charpai. “It makes no difference, beta, for you will always have my protection. I won’t allow you to go like a thief in the night. You will hold your head up high and walk in the bright sun toward your destiny. And everyone will know that you have my blessings but not my fate. Do not worry about the men. I will make things right with them.”
Amma motioned to Nazia. “Come, beta. May Allah watch over us all.”
Nazia lay down beside her mother. The scent of coconut and mustard oil wrapped around them, and she allowed herself to be lulled by the achingly familiar fragrance. She breathed it in deeply so that when she slept alone, in Ms. Haroon’s apartment in Karachi or her bungalow in the northern hills of Islamabad, Amma would be right there with her.
Amma’s scent mingled with her own excitement, filling Nazia’s lungs and stretching out her belly. She stared up at the stars through the tear in the roof and licked her lips. She tasted her own sweat and salt from the sea. For the first time in months she felt full.
URDU VOCABULARY LIST
abbu — father
Allah-hafiz!—literally means “May Allah protect you!” This is a common greeting often used among Pakistanis for “Good-bye.”
amma — mother
As salam-o-alaikum.—literally means “Peace be upon you.” Muslims say these words when they greet each other.
Azan — the Islamic call to prayer
baji — older sister; also often used to refer to any older female as big sister, as a sign of respect
beta — generally refers to a male child or son, but is commonly used across genders to refer to one’s child
beti — daughter or female child
botti — small piece of meat as found in curry or stew
bhai — brother; also used to refer to an older brother or any male of the same age or older as a sign of respect
biryani — Basmati rice with spiced meat, layered; served on special occasions
chadar — oversized rectangular scarf used as a covering by women for modesty
chappals — slippers or sandals; also may be spelled chappalen
charpai — bed of jute rope strung tightly across a wooden frame
chokri — slang for a girl
chotti — little one; generally refers to a girl child
chowkidar — gatekeeper
Chup!—Be quiet!
daal — lentils cooked to a soupy consistency
dadi — paternal grandmother
darzi — tailor
dickey — slang term refering to the rear or trunk of a car
dupatta — long, gauzy material draped over the shoulders, often used as a head covering
ghee — clarified butter
gosht salan — stewlike meat curry often made with tomato and onion base
haveli — a large country home
hijab — head scarf
jahez — the dowry a family saves for a daughter’s wedding
Khabarnama — daily evening news program
kameeze — long, loose shirt worn by women or men
kayari — a flower bed or vegetable bed within a garden
kurta — long, loose shirt worn by men
lassi — yogurt smoothie
Maghrib — the compulsory daily prayer at sunset
mali — gardener
masi — woman who cleans houses for a living
mazdoor — person who performs heavy labor
memsahib — formal title for the lady of the house
naan — leavened flatbread
nahi — no
namaz — prayer
neem tree — tropical tree in the mahogany family known for its medicinal purposes
parratha — flatbread fried in ghee
qorma — meat curry richer than the everyday meat salan; generally reserved for special occasions
raita — yogurt sauce often including minced onions, cilantro, or mint
roti — thin, unleavened flatbread
S.A.W.—short for “Sallallahau Allahi wa sallam,” which means “May the blessings and the peace of Allah be upon him.” Muslims are required to say this after uttering Prophet Muhammad’s name.
sahib — formal title for the man of the house
salaam — greeting
sarkar — landlord; man of the house
Shabash — Well done, or Good job
shaitan — devil
shalwar — loose, pajama-like pants worn with a kameeze
shahir — poet; also often spelled shayar
shukriya — thank you
thawwa — round, flat cast-iron pan often used for making roti, parratha, or other foods
tikka — grilled meat; can refer to chicken, beef, or any other type of meat
tonga — two-wheeled passenger cart pulled by a donkey
Uttoh!—Get up!
Wa laikum as salam.—May peace be upon you too. This is the reply to the greeting “As salam-o-alaikum.”
wazu — ritual cleansing performed prior to daily prayers; also pronounced as “wadu” in Arabic
Ya Allah!—Oh Allah!
Zohar — second of five obligatory prayers