Finding the Unseen

by Taj63622

  Chapter 10

  The decision was a difficult one to make, but now it was too late to regret.

  ‘Why feel bad?’ her brother consoles. ‘It is for your daughter’s good. How long were you planning to keep her unmarried? How long did you expect to lie about her age? You have been saying she is eighteen the last four years! It is your daughter’s good fortune that a handsome, well-bred man has agreed to marry her despite her drawbacks. He is a sensible man. He will keep her happy.’

  ‘Only until he has hopes to go to London,’ his sister, Shumi, argues. ‘Do you not understand the danger I have placed my daughter in by agreeing to the demands of the groom’s family? And what of the dowry payment? What if Shah should discover that, the lands he assigned to my name, are no longer mine. I should not have given them to the groom’s family.’

  ‘It is the custom,’ her brother explains. ‘We have to gift them something. They did not want furniture, as used to be the case in our time. They asked for that bit of land. How could we refuse it? Besides, you did not give it away to a stranger. It’s going towards your daughter’s future in-laws.’

  ‘If our decision is so correct, then why do we not share it Shah? Why must we deceive my son’s trust? We should confide in him.’

  Her brother exhales in frustration.

  ‘How have you deceived him?’ he demands. ‘It is the custom of this country. Exchanges in marriage are merely tradition. After marriage, the wife shares her belongings with her husband, and the husband’s with hers. I have no objection with taking Shah into confidence. But he has been brought up in the absence of traditions and customs. He will not understand. It is because of the way he thinks we have had to let many other proposals slip through our fingers. He doesn’t understand the concerns of a parent. He will not understand the pain a parent is afflicted with when their daughter of marriageable age is at home unmarried.’

  Shumi listened attentively, but remained inconsolable.

  ‘They only agreed to this marriage in the hope that his future brother-in-law will take him to England and settle him there,’ she says yet again. ‘If Shah does agree with this, then what guarantee is there that he will accept the other promise we made to the groom’s parents. He remains unaware to all these proceedings. He will be here soon enough, and the secrets will fall to his knowledge.’

  ‘We will tell him everything, gently, sister,’ her brother pacifies her. ‘Let this marriage happen. Everything else will fall in place. The matter regarding the other promise, you know as well as me, that it is only sensible. Shah is twenty-seven now. We need to start thinking about his marriage too, and you know as well I, we cannot do that until Sabina is married. But you don’t worry about anything. I am here, aren’t I? You just worry about the wedding preparations. Shah will -’

  He did not have the opportunity to finish his sentence, as an unmistakable sound of a car draws their attention. With hurried steps, they follow the sound, eventually delivering them to the veranda. The person had his back to them as he settles the taxi fare. By his foot, there was the familiar holdall, and several white carrier bags. Shumi’s eyes brighten. There was no need to ponder over the identity of the person.

  Shah turns around at his stunned observers. It has been seven months since he last saw his family. For a moment, he was unable to speak or progress towards them. He deliberately concealed the exact time of his arrival. He wanted to surprise them, and surprised they certainly were. He was unjust to keep his mother’s eyes yearning to see him. Seven months was a long wait, but the last few days strangely became a longer wait in comparison.

  Motherly affections overwhelmed her, and for a while, she just stood there, relishing the sight of her son, whom circumstance had forced to part from her. Much has evolved in his absence. Yet they cannot share any of it with him. ‘Amma?’ he calls, searching his mother’s face, upon which there was a notable stress. ‘What’s the matter?’ he asks in deep concern.

  She said nothing, and embraced him instead, letting her head fall upon his chest, where she silently wept. Indeed, she wept so quietly that he remained unnoticed to her tears, and only came to realise when she seemed reluctant to pull away. Astonished but unconcerned, he looks at his Uncle, and with a nod of his head asks what matter puts his mother in this distress.

  ‘Your mother always cries,’ his Mamu reminds him with an easy laugh. ‘Like I always say, your mother’s tear ducts are at least the size of lychees. That is why the whole village calls her lychee! But don’t stop her today,’ he adds, understanding well a mother’s natural anguish of being distant from her only son for so long. ‘Let her cry freely, and relieve her eyes of the last seven months of despair. Besides, she needs to make ample space in those lychees,’ he humours. ‘In a month’s time she will lose her daughter too. Your mother will become completely alone.’

  ‘There is still plenty of time for that,’ Shah consoles, though his voice carried inadequate encouragement. ‘Plus, I’ve offered many times for her to come to England with me.’

  ‘Na re baba,’ Shumi says at once, as a familiar fear overcomes her, pulling away from her son. ‘I’m good here. And how am I alone?’ she demands.

  Shah repressed a desperate desire to laugh at the success of an old tactic. As predicted, his mother transforms into a sudden rebel at the mention of her relocating to England, erasing all traces of a weeping face.

  ‘Your Mamu has no other work to do, and is always here under some pretext or another.’

  Shah exchanges an amused glance with his unfairly accused Uncle, while his mother continues to elaborate. ‘And how far is Sabina going away from me? What distance is there between Boroy Kandhi and Boldhi?’

  Bearing in mind that this was not the first time they had this conversation, Shah had the answer ready for execution. However, the sudden attendance of someone else had halted his reply. There, stood by one of the doors at the veranda, with a sulk on her face, was his only sibling and sister, Sabina. Her untied hair made her face look smaller, the unruliness of which almost protested that she was still a child. Perhaps, that was the interpretation of a brother’s eyes, for his little sister seldom seemed to age before them.

  Helpless, her sulky gaze lifts towards her brother. A brief glance later, she lowers them again.

  She was angry, and he was aware of the reasons too. Thus, holding both his earlobes, he seeks his sister’s apology. Her lips unwind into a smile, but she quickly checks it, removing it instantly, hoping desperately that her brother did not notice. She was too furious with him to allow such a simple placation to succeed. She had good reason to be furious. There was the strong possibility that her brother would not attend her wedding. His excuses were not impressive either nor did they invoke her sympathy. Being one of the chief architects of a renowned firm, she appreciated that her brother cannot be easily disposed to attend family matters in another country. She was proud of his achievements, but she was his only sibling. How could he even consider being absent from her wedding? Admittedly, the news of her marriage was sudden, but he had four months’ notice to resolve any pending projects. She only heard of his coming home two weeks ago, and even that he did not disclose fully.

  The height of his crime was such that a mere verbal apology will be inadequate to receive his sister’s forgiveness. He came well prepared with another method. In the palm of his hand lay a small red box. She refuses to take it, but after a gentle insistence succumbs to her curiosity. Inside the red box was a gold ring. She smiled most pleasingly at it, her forgiveness evident through embracing him tightly.

  She was a pampered child. She did not lack understanding, though possessed a temper that easily deceived one to believe she did. She was indifferent to defeat, but where subjects of affection exist, she made a natural allowance to practice her obstinacy, especially before her brother. Thus, she vowed against marriage unless her brother was present in her wedding. The last few months has therefore seen him tie the necessary ends at work. His stay was short, b
ut it felt good to be home.

  On his last visit, his dear mother spread the news joyously amongst the neighbours. When he arrived home, he greeted half the Sylhet district in his house. They came to greet and meet him. He appreciated their kindness, but having endured a sixteen-hour flight, he was in no mood to converse.

  ‘Granted,’ his Mamu exclaims, helping him to another tandoori chicken, ‘you did not wish to tell us in advance about the time of your arrival,’ he adds, glancing meaningfully at his sister, who gave a brief look of reproof, before serving more pilau rice onto her son’s plate, ‘but why didn’t you let us know once you landed? I could’ve picked you up from the airport.’

  ‘Oh, Mamu,’ he replies, ‘I came home after seven months. You didn’t expect me to come empty handed, did you? So, I took a short trip to Zinda Bazaar and bought mishti. I thought the sweetmeats will go down well with the neighbours.’

  He ate the dishes heartily, which his mother cooked in respect to his homecoming. As always, she remarked about his weight, claiming that he looked thinner. She even accused her little sister that she did not feed him properly. Feeding him was merely an excuse to disburden her heart of the grief of being distant from her son. She found a gentle relief now. Yet his dear mother continued to serve him, as if he came out of a hunger strike. He ate contentedly against his stomach’s complains, allowing his mother the freedom to release her affections which his distance forced her to restrain.

  ‘That’s thought of you,’ his Uncle agrees, but what of the Spicey takeaway’ his Uncle enquires next. ‘There was no necessity for that. Your mother cooked so much already.’

  He looks at his sister endearingly, contentedly eating the noodle dishes he got for her from the popular eatery.

  ‘Mamu,’ Sabina volunteers an answer, having swallowed the morsel, which prevented her mouth from answering quicker. ‘Amma’s cooking is good, but Spicey’s food is something else. You won’t know until you’ve tried it. Do you want to try some?’ she kindly offers her Mamu again, and again he looked disapprovingly at her plate.

  ‘Don’t eat so much of this junk,’ Shumi scolds her daughter, taking a seat next to her, ‘or else you’ll blow up before the wedding!’

  ‘There is still time for that,’ Sabina answers haughtily, shaking her head and taking another mouthful.

  ‘See how shameful this girl is!’ exclaims her mother in shock, while she chews away indifferently. ‘Talking about her marriage before the elders! I told you, brother,’ she looks at him fiercely, ‘to delay this one’s marriage for at least another year. At least that way some sense could have got into her empty head! This girl has no manners or etiquette in talking to others. Heaven knows how her in-laws will cope! We should have Shah married first, and allow this girl to grow up instead.’

  ‘Very good idea,’ he agrees, hastily finishing his food. He very much liked the proposition of not giving his little sister away to another family. ‘You start looking for a wife for me,’ he says getting up, ‘and I’ll inform the in-laws that the wedding is cancelled.’

  ‘We can’t keep her unmarried forever,’ he hears his mother say, her voice sounding distant. He saw a sudden solemnness set about her face as she disappeared into lost thoughts.

  ‘We have to give her away whatever the condition,’ she says absently.

  To preserve their modesty, it was the custom for girls to relieve themselves from the room, when a discussion of her marriage takes place in her presence. Sabina so left the dining room, less from modesty, but more from the grief of hearing her separation from her family. In a few weeks’ time, she will belong to another.

  The concern on his mother face did not seem trivial. There was some other matter, and he greatly suspected its connection to be with the condition, to which his mother was referring.

  ‘The condition of separation,’ his Mamu explains easily, laughing at his sudden concern. ‘It will be no doubt difficult to adjust with Sabina’s absence. Your Amma is obviously worried about that.’

  He looks meaningfully at his sister. She belated realises the danger of unconsciously speaking her mind. She looks at her brother appealingly. He sympathised with her worries, but was equally helpless before their circumstance.

  ‘Perhaps your mother is right about your marriage,’ his Mamu interjects cheerfully. ‘I think we should have a two-in-one marriage. We lose a daughter and gain a daughter-in-law. That way we will not feel Sabina’s absence amongst us. What say, Shah?’

  He smiled hopelessly at his Mamu’s sense of humour. Thankfully, his mother also smiled, but the strain of sorrow was still evident in her eyes. It was understandable. His sister is but a mere guest in this house. She will be gone to another family very soon. She will no longer only be his sister. She will become someone’s wife and daughter-in-law. She will have to adjust to another family’s way of living.

  The severity of his pains was only relieved through knowing that his sister will have a good husband. Suitors for his sister were not scarce. He found the idea absurd, but many came to view her. She was adequately educated, and had all the talent to run a household smoothly. However, amongst these features, she had one drawback. Like him, his sister also had a dark complexion. Upon a girl, a dark complexion was a curse. If it were not the suitor, who had an objection with her appearance, then it would be his mother. If it were not the mother, then it would be the sister. Amongst these suitors, some accepted his sister as a prospective wife, but when he heard their demand for a dowry, he objected immediately. His mother and uncle would have inclined to such shameless propositions had it not been for his severe objections. For them, marriage was only a fulfilment of social custom, and it was not the custom to have a twenty-two year old unmarried daughter.

  Then, on one evening four months ago, he received a call from his mother. She claimed that the Almighty had heard her prayers. She has received a most agreeable match for Sabina. Many enquiries later, his mother reassured him that Shabul has accepted Sabina with her complexion and without an unjust dowry demand. Why should they want anything? Shabul belonged to a reputable family. His father has been a councillor of Khadim Nagar Union for the last four years. His late grandfather also had a prime position within government, holding a post as a senior ranking officer for the Sylhet District Administration, before his death seven years ago. Further research revealed that they are highly charitable people too. His sister will be in good care, and to prove his belief, the groom’s family did not even want the gift of furniture.