‘Arrey, get off! Apa, Apa, all the time. Look, how you’re ruining my fresh white sari with these grubby, filthy hands! Were you playing with mud, you ill-mannered wretch?’ I angrily slapped his hand away. He screwed up his face. ‘No, Apa. Miss Fence is on our road …’, he sobbed. ‘Please call her … Miss Fence is so nice. She gave me cake and cocoa … nice cocoa. Please call her, Apa. Sweet Apa.’
‘Arrey!’ I was startled. ‘Miss Fence, here?’ I glanced at the window, yes it really was Miss Fence in the distance, walking this way, talking to some woman. ‘So, should I call her?’ I thought. I took a quick look round the room. Books scattered everywhere, and the furniture! One chair lay in the corner with its face to the wall and one plumb in the middle of the room, as if preening itself on its unpolished surface. And the sofa! Hunh! The filthy stuffing spilt out of a gaping hole. Tablecloth? Javaid had made generous use of ink in drawing patterns on it! My God, is anything in order? Uf! What ill-mannered fool has scattered the papers on the floor? Does anyone else have such mischievous children? And this inch-thick layer of dust …! Is Kariman dead? The unfortunate wretch can’t even be bothered to sweep the rooms early in the morning.
‘Kariman, O Kariman! Bring the duster. Have you gathered this dust to sell?’
‘Coming, Bibi! Just coming. Let me take the bread off the griddle, it’ll burn.’
To hell with her and her bread. She’s such a miserable one, always stuck in the oven … Why was I so agitated, I asked myself, beginning to feel ashamed of my behaviour. The poor woman was alone and all the housework was on her head. We weren’t so well off that we could afford ten servants. Even one was a blessing.
I quickly changed the tablecloth and dragging the chairs to their place began gathering the papers scattered all over the floor. While gathering the papers I glanced out of the window. Miss Fence had stopped! How close she was! ‘Zakia! Zubeida!’ I gave a full-throated shout. No answer! I went to the door, looked out and felt a murderous rage on seeing both present in the courtyard. Zakia was standing holding Javaid while Zubeida had climbed onto the gate and was craning her neck to catch a glimpse of Miss Fence.
‘Zakia, have you any intention of helping? Aren’t you ashamed of yourself standing out there like this?’
‘Why are you getting angry, Apa! It’s not as if I’m always at the gate. Just today … like that …’ She laughed as she caught sight of my peeved expression.
‘Aha! Apa, today your mercury is soaring at a hundred degrees! See if I don’t say something to bring down my Apa’s temperature. Shall I tell you something really interesting?’ She pulled a face and clapped, ‘Shall I, Apa? … Oho … Miss Fence is passing this way!’
‘I know all that. Come here and help me clean up the room. You only know how to chatter.’ I was offhand with her.
‘So, Apa, are you going to call Miss Fence?’ she asked, jumping up and down with joy. Zubeida was also dancing. How is it that these children are still so fond of Miss Fence?
I snapped at Zakia, who was staring at the door again. The papers were still scattered all over the room.
‘Hunh! I’m not going to call her, considering the state of the house.’ I irritably threw the papers I had gathered on the floor.
‘What are you saying, Apa?’ Zakia was looking at me in surprise.
I ignored her and called out to Zubeida: ‘Zubeida! Javaid! Go
in.’
‘Why, Apa?’ Zubeida asked as she entered.
‘Come here. If Miss Fence sees you she’ll find out that this is our house and she’s bound to want to see me.’ I dragged Javaid in as well.
‘That’ll be wonderful! Why shouldn’t she come, Apa?’
‘Seen the condition of your beautiful home?’
‘We’ll settle everything. Please let her come, Apa,’ they both pleaded enthusiastically.
‘I’ve told you I’m not going to call her.’
‘Oh, Apa. It’s been so long since we’ve had a chance to see Miss Fence. Hasn’t it been two or three months since you left college? After so long, purely by chance she’s in our city and she’s passing by our house and you, you’re not going to call her in? Apa, you’re being …’ Zakia stopped in the midst of her harangue and laughed, giving me a mischievous look. ‘Right! Now I know … ever since Parvaiz bhaiyya …’
‘Arri, quiet! You’ve started making such fancy speeches.’ I pinched her hard.
‘You’re a pretender, Apa. See how coy you got at the mention of Parvaiz’s name.’
I stood there shy, blushing, shrinking inside, lost, as if the name had cast a spell on me. What a beautiful name! What a wonderful name! Parvaiz.
I awoke from my reverie to find the portals of the doors wide open, the curtain flapping in the wind and Miss Fence standing bang opposite our house, fixing me with her eyes. As I caught her gaze, she smiled and began moving towards it.
‘Oh! God! What is to be done now?’ I shook Zakia. ‘You see to everything. Look, she’s coming here.’
I quickly ran from there, only stopping to breathe once I was in my room. A little later when I peeped out, I saw Miss Fence sitting in the room adjacent to the verandah and Zakia standing next to her carrying an attractive dish of bananas and oranges.
‘Call Gulnar,’ Miss Fence was saying. Suddenly she saw me peeping and smiled and called out, ‘Gulnar!’ I retreated shyly behind the door … What must she have made of my coy behaviour? Just that I still had the same feelings for her. Hunh! How was she to know that I now … but she must be harbouring the same wrong impression …
I had always been shy in front of her, running away when she appeared. When she looked at me I would hide my face in both hands although I wanted her to keep looking. What a strange girl I was some years back! Gradually I had opened up with her. Even then, when we ran into each other unexpectedly you should have seen my confusion! What days those were! It was usual for me to wait hours for her in the verandah after the bell had rung. The week when we had no classes with her was the most miserable week of all. Yes, I doted on her. I loved her to distraction. How the girls would tease me: ‘Gulnar, we don’t know why you dote on Miss Fence, she’s no beauty. In fact, it wouldn’t be far wrong to call her ugly.’ Those witches, if only I could have scratched their faces! How would they know how beautiful she looked to me? I was annoyed with Zarina, although she was my dearest friend. I remember wearing a black sari that day and had borrowed a black bindiya from Purva to put on. Zarina and I were strolling in the hostel compound when Indira had appeared from somewhere … ‘Aha! You’re looking devilishly beautiful today, Gulnar.’
‘Like Miss Fence?’ I had blurted out inadvertently.
‘Hunh, Miss Fence!’ Zarina had said sarcastically. ‘Miss Fence! She’d have to die and be reborn thrice over to acquire your beauty!’
I had been so angry with her.
‘Annoyed with me, Gul? All right, she’s five times more beautiful than you! Happy now?’ She had gone into peals of laughter and Indira had smiled as well. I felt like killing Zarina. After all, who was she to insult Miss Fence? If a single word was said against her, I was prepared to fight with the entire college. I was not alone. Many girls would have supported me as so many were in love with her. Zarina was different, she would place no obstacles in my path but would be happy to see Miss Fence indulge me. What a selfless girl she was!
In contrast, there was that Lakshmi! She was awfully, terribly jealous of me. She made every effort to turn Miss Fence’s attention away, from me to her. All those beautiful saris she’d brought and her put-on manner and specially designed pearl jewellery! She’d even had her hair curled with an electrical appliance! Hunh! What was the point of all the effort since she was not beautiful anyway? Miss Fence would only have to look at me for her to be consumed with jealousy. Despite reading hundreds of books on Miss Fence’s special subject, could she write better than me? Had she ever scored more marks than me? When nothing worked her envy would take over, and she would always be on the look-ou
t for an opportunity to make a hurtful remark. How she would fret when she heard people call me beautiful! Her response would be: ‘Hunh! Can anyone be called beautiful who doesn’t have a pink and white complexion? Height and a slim body are the prerequisites of beauty.’ Not that she was fair, but she was tall and slender, although there was no beauty in her thin body. She looked as if a long piece of wood had been whittled bare. There were no pleasing contours to her shape. No suppleness and no style. A flat, lifeless piece of wood! I really wanted to shut her up. ‘Hunh! For beauty, charming features are far more important than a fair complexion and a full, rounded body is as beautiful as a delicate one, in fact it is far more attractive.’ But I would smile and maintain my silence. I didn’t want her to feel that she had succeeded in needling me.
Sometimes she would show me a fair-complexioned girl and say, ‘Look, Gulnar, how beautiful that girl is.’ And the girl she was pointing out would be so ugly, so repulsive-looking that I would burst out laughing. Squashed nose, spreading nostrils, very thick lips, clumsy body but yes, she would have a fair colouring! I would say ‘Lakshmi, I salute your sense of beauty!’ When this would not work she’d descend straight to the personal level, jeering and calling me ‘black’ although my complexion is clearly wheatish …
And then there was Zeenat, who just would not leave Miss Fence alone. How artlessly she would complain, ‘Gulnar! Miss Fence likes you the best.’ And what about that enormously fat girl … more of a woman than a girl! She lived and breathed for Miss Fence, and what peculiar ways she had of demonstrating her love, making even Miss Fence laugh out aloud! And Nalini …
‘Gulnar Bibi!’
‘What is it, Kariman?’
‘Begum has asked me to make French toast and samosas. You know that some Miss Sahiba has come visiting. I have so much work, daughter, can you cut these pieces of bread? My sweet child, I’ll always serve you faithfully.’
I opened the door and peeped cautiously to see if Miss Fence was looking this way. Ammi was sitting near her and they were busy talking. I tiptoed quickly into the kitchen and, cleaning the knife throughly, sat down to slice the bread. Kariman put the cooked mince on the stove, added some salt, pepper and onions and began to brown it. So French toast is being made, is it? It was such a favourite of Miss Fence’s! How many times had I made it with my own hands and sent it to her in the days she had been a professor in a local college and how I had wept when she had been transferred! She had talked to me and tried to console me but I had not been able to stop my tears. After weeping my fill, I had persuaded Abba to send me to the same place where Miss Fence was working and had met up with her. Two years passed in a flash. I had to appear for the final college exam and then be parted from Miss Fence for ever, I couldn’t bear the thought of that. How I wished that the college had offered an M.A. course so I could have spent another two years with her! I had even toyed with the idea of failing that year. For a girl who had always come top in her class, to fail was particularly shameful but that never bothered me. The professors had such high hopes of me. I would win many medals and prizes at the convocation. To come first among the girls was usual for me and there would be special medals for that, but I would also head the state list in sociology and English. The boys would be thunder-struck and the name of the college would be writ in letters of gold … but now I didn’t care if I dashed their hopes. The final day of the examination arrived and I went to meet Miss Fence for the last time. When I returned to the hostel after saying goodbye, I went straight to my room, threw myself on the bed and, hiding my face in the pillows, wept bitterly. The flood of tears made my eyes red and the bedcover damp. Zarina, when she came, embraced me and began consoling me. The more she comforted me the more bitterly I wept. That night Zarina sat with me for a long time, explaining things to me so that my stinging eyes began to close under the pressure of sleep. What a loving person Zarina had been!
‘Finished cutting the pieces, daughter? Hand them over so I can fry them in ghee, and, dear child, just fill the pancakes with mince and make the samosas. Begum has asked for them quickly. What can I do, daughter! You can see how old I’ve grown. Can’t do that much with my hands or would I have asked you to work? Heaven forgive me! May this old mouth become infested with worms for ever uttering such words! Such delicate hands are fit only for holding a pen, how can I, a mere maidservant, desire to see them perform menial tasks? May God blind me before I wish that for you!’ Old Kariman started flattering me. I filled the pancakes with mince and started making the samosas without replying.
How Miss Fence had loved me, calling me to her home many times and insisting that I accompany her on her walks. How she had begged that day, ‘Just come once, Gulnar! I’ll take you for a drive in my car. I’ll take you to such and such a garden.’ My hurt pride had made me spurn her offers. And then how generously she would mark me! Eighty or eighty-five per cent! Seeing this, the girls would be very envious. They would say, ‘Well of course, you’re her favourite, aren’t you? How could we get such marks?’
When she spoke my name, she would savour it in her mouth like a delicious sweetmeat, and when she smiled at me, how loving that smile was. I would instantly want to call her ‘Angelina’ instead of Miss Fence, but I had never dared to do that. Though I hesitated to open my mouth before her, I would write whatever came to my mind in my letters. I wrote, ‘Queen of my heart’, ‘My darling’, ‘Queen of beauty’, ‘Heavenly Angelina’. Strange romantic letters I would write! And she would never be annoyed. And then one day …
One day Lalita and I were sitting with her on the back seat of the car. In conversation Lalita had asked, ‘Miss Fence, do you know how to ride?’ ‘No,’ she had replied, ‘but I’ve wanted to learn for a long time and that’s why I’m getting a riding kit stitched,’ and then turning to me, ‘A coat and trousers, Gulnar.’ She had said it in such a way that I had dissolved in shame. ‘I’ll look just like a man in it, won’t I?’ I sat with my face hidden in both my hands. Yes, there was a glimpse of the man in her. Very tall, a broad, strong chest and her looks would make me blush. Even if she were standing in a crowd, talking to other girls, her eyes would be fixed on me … and how good she would look in a tangerine sari. The reflection of the sari would cast a golden glow on her face and there would be a faint blush on her cheeks, tinged with blue, and from a distance her pock-marks would not be visible either …
I put the plate of samosas in front of Kariman, who started to fry them. I was finally free of all the chores! Sitting in front of the stove for so long had made me feel hot, so I washed my hands and face with cold water, wiped them with the sari ends and turned my eyes towards the room where Miss Fence was sitting. The same magical smile that had cast a spell over me. Now I was ready to meet her … till my eye casually fell on my sari. It had dirty patches and Javaid’s paw marks were clearly visible. How can I go out in this sari? I saw Zubeida come out.
‘Zubeida!’ I called. She was running along, not paying any attention. ‘Zubeida, come here.’
‘Hunh, I won’t come. I want to go to Miss Fence.’
‘My sweet little one. Listen to Apa. I’ll give my little one a chocolate.’
‘What is it, Apa?’ Her eyes lit up at the prospect of chocolate.
‘Sweet little one, fetch me a sari from the cupboard. See how grubby this one is. How can I wear this and go out to Miss Fence? Here, take the keys to the cupboard.’
‘Alright, Apa. Go quickly, Miss Fence keeps asking for you.’
She still cared for me. Perhaps. Two months ago I had sent her a letter through another girl, who had reported her joy at receiving it. Had she not been delighted the day I had arrived, without prior warning, at the college where she then worked? I could see her from my hiding place but she couldn’t see me and I had sent a girl to inform her that I was seeking admission to that college. In a highly emotional state she had repeated my name several times. ‘Gulnar! Gulnar! Gulnar! Is that true?’ The girl had assured her it was. ‘Where is she? Tell me
.’ The girl began telling her where I was but without paying any attention to her she had set out to find me. ‘Gulnar! Where are you?’ I had enjoyed witnessing her impatience.
‘Finally everything is prepared. Let me rest this old body for a while …’
Old wretch. Always muttering to herself. I was irritated.
‘God bless you, Gulnar Bibi. What a help you have been to this old woman.’ Kariman spread a piece of jute right there in the kitchen and lay down. ‘Oh, there you are, daughter. My Bibi will have a long life. I was just thinking of you, my child! You are in my prayers all the time. I’m not lying. I’ve worked in many places but no, sir, I’ve never seen such a girl. In other homes even young lads would tell me off but my Bibi has never said a harsh word to me. Now my days of work are over, which is why I had even left your home. I tell you truthfully, daughter, I only came at the news of your wedding. I’ve always cherished the desire to see you as a bride with my own eyes. God bless you with a wonderful groom.’
Could there be a groom more wonderful than Parvaiz? A gentle smile appeared on my lips. I hastily turned my face in case Kariman noticed.
Then, all at once, my mind was emptied of all thoughts except: Parvaiz! Parvaiz! … and I drifted into this bright, beautiful world. Exceedingly beautiful. Far more than college and the world of Miss Fence.
There was a time when I had wondered whether, if I were to get married, I would be able to love my husband at all. Once Zarina, who knew about palmistry, had looked at my hand and said, ‘Your husband will love you enormously.’ And I had felt such pity for my would-be husband, thinking that I would not be able to respond to his love. And now? Now see how madly I care for my Parvaiz!
‘Apa, here’s the sari.’ I took the sari from Zubeida, put it on the table and began combing my hair.
How was I able to forget Miss Fence? She had cared for me a great deal. Cares a great deal. Had she ever expressed it verbally? When I was with her she was deathly afraid. ‘Gulnar, what must the girls be saying? Gulnar, if the principal sees us, what then?’
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