Finding the Unseen

by Taj63622

  Chapter 7

  The single child complex can be both beneficial and problematic. The strain of obstinacy is ever prevalent in those, who had not the blessing of siblings. They did not understand the virtues of negotiating, and were accustomed to having their way, employing all possible tactics and arguments to win another’s approval. Mayah was also such a single child.

  The flight took off two hours ago. It has taken twenty-two years to make her first visit to Bangladesh, despite her close roots to the country. Technically, it was Dhadhi’s first visit too. She only knew that much about the quarter of her origin that Dhadhi related to her. She was eager to see her to meet the rest of her family.

  Two weeks have elapsed since the hunger strike incident. Noting a marked improvement in Dhadhi’s health, Mayah relayed her proposition. She has decided to take Dhadhi to Bangladesh. Understandably, her mother and Dhadhi objected. It took a great deal of convincing to get their approval. Dhadhi did not want to lie to her son, whereas her mother could not let two women of vulnerable age go to another country, and that too unsupervised. The concerns of each were justified. Hiding the truth is just another reflection of telling a lie, but truth has not prevailed in their situation. Perhaps, with patience, they may win her father’s approval, but the virtuous trait was not at their disposal currently. For the young, patience teaches discipline, but for the old it can become a curse. Dhadhi's age made patience too great a risk to appreciate it. If Dhadhi’s health should deteriorate to an extent that she must cease any strenuous travel, then guilt will most certainly engulf her and her parents. Besides, what could be done today, why leave it for tomorrow? What can be done today, why not do it now? Thankfully, her mother understood the delicacy of the situation, but that did not eliminate her motherly concerns. She had a daughter, whose young age could easily make her fall prey amongst opportunists. Admittedly, this remark only challenged her to disprove her mother’s fear. She has not given any the right to touch her in a way that she must lose the preservation of her chastity. Without her consent, none will have the courage to do so either. Her mother remained unconvinced and strongly objected the proposition. Indeed, she still does not know what finally convinced her mother. It appeared, Dhadhi was equally shocked and confused when her mother gave the consent two days after their discussion.

  Plans were swiftly underway. To avoid her father’s suspicions, she took Dhadhi to their Hertfordshire cottage, under the pretext that the countryside would revive Dhadhi’s health. Her father agreed, taking the inconvenience of dropping her, her mother, and Dhadhi there. They scarcely stayed there for two days. Her mother bought her a new phone, and kept her old one. This way, her mother can reply to her father’s messages.

  There are many challenges ahead of them. They are contemplating to find the lost amongst strangers. However, now that they have embarked on a starting point, the remainder of their journey would follow suit. They may have to improvise, but this would only make this game of hide-and-seek more enjoyable. They will be staying in a hotel in Sylhet, and from there they will visit Jameel Dhadha. Dhadhi’s contact with him has been scarce over recent years. There was never much to say. The last time she contacted him was to inform him of Granddad’s death. She had his last known address. The plan is to contact him once they reach the hotel. His assistance is vital if they are to locate Dhadhi’s brother.

  She looked at her granddaughter, who gazed adoringly at the passing clouds. It was actually happening. After forty-seven years, she was visiting her birthplace and childhood. It was not that she has never travelled at all since her marriage. Her husband’s career has taken her many places, save for Bangladesh. It was her choice. Her marriage to an Englishman was a controversial affair. She angered many when she married him, one of them being her brother. The desire to reconcile with him is not a sudden eruption. The thought has been brewing quietly within her since after Sam’s birth. She did not want her son to become a complete stranger to her roots. But she could not risk losing her Englishman either, who doubtless remained a target of her brother’s anger. She feared a sudden confrontation between them would provoke such a situation that would lose her one or the other. Yet, see how ruthless her Englishman became. He left her nevertheless.

  She did not cry and said nothing at his death. She went into isolation, and sank every day in despair, hoping that death would call her too, for enduring his separation was becoming a struggle. Then, one evening, when she gazed absently at the dark sky, she heard her Englishman. At first, she believed her despair had descended her into a state of delirium. But when he spoke again, she was certain that the humour could only come from her Francis. “If you had shed at least one tear,” he said, “then I should have been in the comfort that I left a wife who loved me dearly.” Here, she cried for the first time after his death. He immediately reprimanded her defeated state, and made her realise how many depended on her. Sam, Jill, and Mayah looked to her for direction. They will be lost without her. They did not have the strength to endure her separation, as she had to endure his. She has much to do and see. Introducing Sam, Jill, and Mayah to her native country was her primary task. Helping Mayah to settle in a stable career, and seeing Jill begin her next novel, was another priority. Francis said his death took the best years away from him. How dearly he wished to hold his great grandchildren, but he consoled his loss knowing that his Nargis will fulfil his wishes.

  How easily he said two words to invoke new life into her. It was her Englishman’s insistence for her to visit Bangladesh. It was his decision to reconcile with her brother. He said it was necessary. Two years after his death, she finally makes this trip.

  She had hoped that eventually her son would birth an attachment to the country where half of his origin belonged. She had hoped that he too would pine to see the other half of his family and see the roots of his culture. At every reason, he was disobliging. He was angry, and abhorred her brother for conspiring to sell her. He has taken to the belief that every man in Bangladesh was like her brother. She has constantly failed to convert his mind. There was guilt at lying to her own child, but her compassion for her grandchild’s courage was greater. The child has risked and sacrificed much to accompany her. She has staked her father’s trust and compromised with her career. Like her Granddad and mother, Mayah also aspires to become a writer. She has written various articles, yet she was undecided on a specific career. This trip has stalled her to arrive on a decision, but Mayah was too determined to take her to Bangladesh to consider the consequences. Indeed, she booked the tickets before seeking anyone’s consent.

  She was beginning to feel tired, as if her ignorance on the last two weeks of extensive planning and thinking had finally caught up with her. Her eyes heavy, she rests her droopy head on Dhadhi’s shoulder, grasping her tightly by the arm. The airhostess was walking up and down, offering tea, coffee, and hot chocolate. She liked the smell of coffee, but disliked the taste very much. She also hated the smell of Red Bull. Once, she had to get off her carriage on the District line because someone was drinking the vile drink. The dim lights encouraged her sleep further. Across the aisle, she paid particular attention to one of the passengers. Every so often, he withdrew a small red box from his pocket. Each time he looked at it with more admiration than the last, his smile apparent by the lift of his cheek. She wondered whether it was a pair of earrings, or perhaps a ring. Perhaps he was going to propose to someone in Bangladesh. If that were the case, then Bangladesh has certainly evolved. Dhadhi said that in her time girls did not have the right to choose their husband. Her family selected her partner. Love marriages were very rare, and should a couple marry for love, then the girl was more likely to become subject of her in-laws’ taunts. Her in-laws would her make mistakes appear bigger than they really are because she compelled the son to disregard his family’s choice and married for love. She loses the credibility to voice her complaints because it was her decision to marry into that family, who constantly faults her every action. Her family advi
se her to endure the mistreatment, for she chose that life.

  Against such thoughts and customs, her Grandparents married. Had it not been for that night, then Dahdhi may have lost Granddad to England forever.

  Suddenly they stopped running.

  Francis looked behind him and saw Nargis shaking her head at him, as she held the banisters breathlessly. Her eyes requested him to allow her legs some mercy. He read her pleas well, but could not neglect the watchman’s determination to capture the unauthorised wanderers. He gestures towards the corridor beside them, where they can rest without danger. She nodded, following him through the unlit corridor. There, in a corner, they sit down. He looked cautiously into the cloudy dark distance, expecting the watchman to discover them soon. Fortunately, he saw no one nor could he hear anything except for the girl’s effort to quieten her heavy breaths lest the noise should attract the watchman’s attention. Her chest hurt, and the limbs of her legs throbbed as they try to regain some feeling. Overcome by weakness, she leans against the wall. He watched her in alarm. Her shrivelled lips evidenced her thirst, while her brow glistened with specks of sweat, some gliding down her face. The rigorous running had loosened her plait, allowing the shorter strands of her hair to escape, sticking to her face and neck.

  Her displaced state was a result of his encouraging her to speak the truth of her feelings about marrying the avaricious landlord. She had lost her parents, and now by his doing, she has lost the only family she had left.

  When she opened her eyes again, she saw the Englishman's gaze was downcast, a solemnness about his face. She patted his knees to reach his attention. When he looked at her, she sought to know the reason behind the solemnness with a gesture of her head. He shook his head as if to say there is no reason. Had he looked her in the eye when he gave that reply then perhaps she would have believed him, but his looking away only proved that there is a reason. She patted his knees again, and again he lifted his grey eyes at her. She smiled at him, hoping he too would smile, but he did not. She could not make him smile.

  Her smile disappeared, and he was the reason. Suddenly, he felt the urgency to preserve it upon her lips, and so he smiled. How was he to express his relief, when he saw her smile reappear? She met his eyes, and there, she held her gaze with his, forgetting her modesty and the impropriety of her conduct. She was not alone in the crime, for he could not seem to look away either.

  Lantern still in hand, the watchman appears before the intruders. His presence did not seem to start them the slightest. The lantern hovered over them, yet they did not once blink. He found great humour in their fearlessness, looking from her eyes to his and from his eyes to hers. Only when he spoke did they come to realise that there was a third person amongst them. The Englishman started abruptly, getting to his feet, the girl following suit. He would have attempted to escape again, but did not have the heart to put Nargis through the pain of exhaustion.

  ‘No room?’ the watchman asked. He was a podgy man, with a rather fluffy moustache. He was not young and neither old, but was mature enough to comprehend the eyeful stares the girl and boy were exchanging. He did not speak English fluently, but was able to speak enough for the Englishman to understand.

  Francis shook his head in reply.

  ‘Husband, wife?’ the watchman asked next, looking meaningfully at the girl. ‘Jamai bou ki?’ he repeats but in Bengali.

  Francis struggled on an answer. Admitting they are not would subject them to further questions.

  Replying to the positive may become a means of getting out of here.

  ‘Ji,’ she said something beyond his understanding, lifting the drape of her sari onto her head as he often saw woman do in the country. He looked on with great puzzlement at her change of behaviour.

  Perhaps it was the peculiarity of this night or maybe she could no longer repress her playful nature, but either way she rose to the opportunity. Having answered that she and the Englishman are husband and wife, she then recounted the rest of her sorrowful story. She told the watchman that her husband was unfortunately a mute, and that they were here at this merciless hour because they were evicted by their landlord elsewhere. When she learnt that her brother was seeking temporary accommodation here, she came to him immediately to receive some help. But heartless he is, said he cannot offer her any and told them to knock on another door, and if no other door should open, then the doors of God are always open. The watchman shook his head at the lack of humanity in this world. He was disgusted that a brother should not show any compassion to his own sister! He sympathised, but stated his inability to help in this case. She lowered her head at his kindness, and requested him to lead them out. As he led the way, she looks at the Englishman and puts a finger to her lips, gesturing him to keep silent.

  A safe distance away from the lodge, they both broke out in giggles. He was impressed at her tactic, but equally curious to learn what she said. In fact, in all his elation, he forgot that she could not speak or understand English and asked her what she said to the watchman. Her laugh gradually disappeared, and the elation of both so left. She was embarrassed at her inability to comprehend what he said. She very much wanted to speak to him. She very much wanted to thank him for undertaking all this difficulty on her behalf. But more than anything, she wanted to ask him why he was doing all this for her. He did not have to come to Jameel, and alert him of her missing whereabouts. He could have kept himself divided from her complications, but not once did he turn away. Not once did he look away.