by Sabina Khan
Mom insisted on helping me get ready, which meant I couldn’t call Aamir back like I was planning to do. She picked a pink-and-silver outfit and found matching silver earrings and pink bangles to go with it. Then she helped me with my hair, weaving a string of jasmine flowers into my braid.
I watched her as she hummed an old Bengali folk song, her face serene, and I realized that this was all she ever wanted. A daughter who would follow the rules, grow up, and marry a suitable man. Who she could play dress up with, like she was now. But I was not a doll and I was not who she wanted me to be. That part hurt the most. That she would go to all these lengths to prove she was right, but not even try to understand who I really was and what made me happy.
According to Mom, Parveen was the most sought after arranged marriage consultant in Dhaka. She was a matchmaker, a wedding planner, and a fortune-teller all rolled into one. At least, that’s what I expected her business card to say. Rumor had it if a prospective bride made a bad impression on her, then she was doomed to spinsterhood.
Now, sitting on my grandmother’s couch, she didn’t look that intimidating at all. She had a birdlike appearance, a sharp, beak-like nose and thin arms that ended in the skinniest hands I’d ever seen.
“Rukhsana, your mother tells me that you’ve won a scholarship to Caltech. That’s very impressive. It will look really good on your profile should I choose to accept you as a client.”
Mom’s paying her to find me a husband and she hasn’t yet decided if she wants to take me on?
I managed to keep a straight face, but it was a struggle.
“Yes, I’m starting there in the fall.”
“I see. But of course, that is, only if your future in-laws agree.”
“What do you mean?” I shot a panicked look in Mom’s direction. She shook her head ever so slightly, a warning imperceptible to anyone but me.
“Well, there’s a chance that they may not want their daughter-in-law to spend all her time in school. It’s up to them to decide,” Parveen said matter-of-factly.
“Yes, yes, of course, we understand,” said Mom hastily. “Rukhsana knows that, don’t you, ammu?”
I was about to retort but stopped myself. Instead, I nodded.
“Good. So, there is a lot of work to do. First of all, you need a makeover,” she said.
Ouch.
“We need to do something about your complexion,” she murmured, her gaunt hands gliding over my face as I tried not to pull away. Next, she curled a lock of my hair around her bony fingers and studied it.
“Hmmm.” She frowned.
What the hell? The witch doesn’t like my hair? I half expected her to open my mouth and check the condition of my teeth.
She turned to Mom. “Twice a week she must apply a paste of turmeric and chickpea flour. On the other days, she must apply a paste of Multani clay and water.”
My mother nodded as Parveen continued.
Wow, Mom might actually be intimidated by her.
“Now, about your diet,” she continued, her hawkish eyes falling on me again. “No more sweets. No more rich foods.” She counted off on her fingers. “A diet of only fruits and vegetables. Rice and fish twice a week only.”
Is she for real?
“No going out in the sun at all. We don’t want your skin to get even darker.”
“We will follow all your instructions, Parveen, do not worry.” My mom was clearly very impressed with the woman, and I had a sinking feeling the next few days were going to be hell for me.
“I will come back in one week to see how it is going. Then I will make my decision.”
Mom looked at me after Parveen had left.
“So that went well, don’t you think?” She picked up the tea tray and placed it on the dining room table.
I rolled my eyes when she wasn’t looking. She really didn’t want to know what I thought.
“We should get started on your treatments right away.” Mom signaled to Rokeya to clear the table. “Your skin will be glowing soon enough!”
Lucky me. I’m getting a husband and good skin.
Over the next two days, I underwent a humiliating amount of waxing, scrubbing, and general torture as Mom took me to a beauty salon and told them that money was no object. On the upside, my skin had never been so soft. With my complexion taken care of, Mom’s beauty team moved to my hair. Apparently, it required multiple henna and hot oil treatments. If I wasn’t so pissed off at why I was going through all this, I might’ve actually enjoyed the pampering.
It was demeaning to do all this so some stranger could judge and reject me. The whole thing was a sham. But there was nothing I could do about it.
“I need to get hold of Sohail,” I said to Shaila when Mom finally left us alone for the first time in a couple of days. I’d snuck some sweets in a napkin earlier when no one was looking and now I laid them out between us. Shaila looked on in amusement as I popped a piece of sandesh in my mouth.
“What?” I said, savoring the creamy sweetness. “You can have some too.”
Shaila shook her head. “I thought Parveen said you weren’t supposed to eat sweets.”
“Who died and made her queen? I’ll eat as many sweets as I like,” I said, defiantly sinking my teeth into a plump, slightly dripping gulab jamun.
Shaila just rolled her eyes in response.
“Anyway, how are you planning to call Sohail? Do you even have his number?”
“No, I don’t. Mom has it on her phone, but I can’t get it without her noticing.”
“I think my dad might have it in his contacts list in his study,” Shaila said. “I can try to get it when they’re out.”
We waited until evening, when my parents and Shaila’s parents went to a function. We were supposed to go as well, but I feigned a bad headache and Shaila volunteered to stay behind with me. As soon as their car was out of the driveway, Shaila and I went into her dad’s study. She looked up Sohail’s contact on the computer and I quickly typed the number into my phone.
“Sohail, it’s Rukhsana,” I said when he answered after the third ring.
“Well, this is a surprise.” The sound of his voice was inexplicably soothing to my raw nerves and I almost started crying again. “My mother tried calling several times after our dinner together, but it seems your parents weren’t available. I was kind of disappointed, to be honest. I thought we hit it off pretty well.”
“That’s what I’m calling about,” I said. “I need to talk to you.”
“Oh? What about? Is everything okay?”
“Well, I’d rather not say over the phone. Could we meet?” I held my breath.
“Actually, I was hoping to talk to you about something as well,” he said.
What could he want to talk to me about? I guess there’s only one way to find out.
“Great,” I said. “How about Terra Bistro, tomorrow morning at ten?”
“I’ll see you there.”
“Rukhsana, good, you’re dressed and ready,” Mom said when I entered the living room the next morning. She poured me a cup of chai. “Shaila wants to take you to look at mehndi patterns.”
“Mehnaz is really talented and I promised her I’d bring you by,” Shaila said.
I picked up my cup, breathing in the spices. “Sounds good to me.”
“That was pretty convincing,” I said to Shaila, who grinned back at me as we weaved through the morning traffic.
“Did you tell Sohail to meet you at the café?” she asked in a low tone, so the driver wouldn’t overhear.
“Yes, he said he’d be there. Can you pick me up in about an hour, please?”
Shaila nodded. “Take all the time you want. I’ll go to the mall and pick up some actual mehndi patterns to show Zuby Phupi when we get back.”
“Good thinking,” I said, jumping out when the driver stopped in front of the café entrance.
When I opened the door, a wave of cool air pushed past me and out into the sultry morning. My eyes took a moment to adjust
to the dim lighting. Dark blinds valiantly attempted to keep out the sunlight, and the air-conditioning provided a welcome relief from the sweltering heat.
I spotted Sohail by the glass display case, checking out the pastries. I watched him for a moment, bathed in the warm glow of the sparsely arranged lamps. With his high cheekbones, chiseled jawline, and perfectly styled Bollywood hair, I could see how he’d be considered quite the catch. For someone else.
He turned just as I walked up to him, and smiled.
“It’s nice to see you again,” he said, gesturing to a small table by the window.
“You too. Thanks for agreeing to meet.”
“Of course. Shall we order first?” he asked as the waitress approached.
“Sure. I’ll have a latte, please,” I said.
Sohail ordered a black coffee for himself, as well as some pastries.
“So, what did you want to talk to me about?” I asked, deciding that I’d rather hear what he had to say before I compromised myself.
“I just thought we should discuss some things before making any decisions,” he said.
I fiddled with the ends of my orna. “What kind of things?”
“Well, I know you weren’t keen on this whole arranged marriage thing when we met last time.”
The waitress came back with our coffees and pastries, and I used the time to think up a suitable response.
“I just think that people should be allowed to marry whoever they want,” I said, watching him carefully.
“I agree completely,” he said. “I mean it’s my life. I’ll be spending it with that person, so I should get to choose who that will be.”
I took a careful sip of my latte.
“So why haven’t you said anything to your parents?” I asked.
“Because I don’t think they will ever accept the person I want to marry.”
My ears perked up. So he had a person. Hmm, this was getting interesting. I took a bite of mango pastry. “How can you be so sure?”
“Well, let’s just say he’s not exactly someone they would want me to marry.”
A piece of pastry went down the wrong way, causing me to cough up my left lung. I struggled to process the information he had just casually dumped on me.
He is gay. HE IS GAY.
I could actually feel light bulb flashes going off in my head. This changed everything. Sohail’s eyes were wide with alarm and I was pretty sure he would come around the table and start thumping me on the back if I didn’t regain my composure and say something.
“Okay …” This was the best I could muster. My mind was trying to string together coherent thoughts from the supernova of feelings that were exploding inside me.
“Okay?” he echoed rather loudly. Then, realizing, he lowered his voice to a whisper once again. “Is that all you can say?”
“I’m sorry. I just wasn’t expecting this.”
“Clearly. Do you have a problem with it?” He looked suddenly vulnerable and I was confused. Then it hit me. The notion that I would have a problem with him being gay was so absurd, I laughed out loud. His eyes widened and I groaned inwardly.
“No, of course not,” I said, and he relaxed his shoulders. “I thought you were going to tell me something else, that’s all.”
“Like what?” He smiled, and a small dimple appeared on his right cheek. How have I not noticed that before?
“Honestly, I just thought you had a girlfriend,” I said. His dimple deepened as he shook his head.
“I did … several …” he said ruefully. “But I realized I was just lying to myself.”
“So, when did you know?” I asked.
“When I met Mushtaq.” He blushed a little and it was the cutest thing.
“Mushtaq. So where did you meet?”
“At Columbia. I had just started my master’s and he was finishing up his undergraduate program. We met at a talk by a visiting lecturer and later we started talking and then before we knew it, hours had passed.”
“And how did you know that it was serious?”
“Well, we found excuses to bump into each other,” he said. “Until Mushtaq told me that maybe we should just try going out on a real date.” He smiled in that disarming way he had and I realized that I was beginning to really like him.
“And you’ve been together for three years?”
“Yes, I can’t believe it’s been that long already.”
He got this look in his eyes that I recognized well.
“So where is he now?” I asked, finishing the last of my coffee.
“He’s in Chicago getting his MBA. I’m planning to join him there as soon as I can.” He smiled wistfully and in my heart I wished him and Mushtaq all the happiness in the world.
“What about your parents?” I asked, even though I knew the answer.
“Well, I’ve thought about telling them so many times, I’ve lost count. But I know what they’ll say, and there’s just no point. They’ll never accept me for who I am.”
I nodded. I was painfully familiar with that notion of futility, that empty feeling when you realize that your own family would never understand the real you.
“I’m so sorry, Rukhsana,” he said suddenly. “Here I am, going on and on about myself. Didn’t you have something you wanted to talk to me about?”
I nodded.
“I do. But same deal,” I warned. “This has to stay just between us.”
He smiled again. “I trusted you with my secret, didn’t I? Now you have to trust me with yours. I promise, I will not tell a soul.”
This time I leaned over the table conspiratorially and whispered.
“There’s someone special in my life too.”
“Are you going to tell me more?” he whispered back with a smile.
“Her name’s Ariana.”
His eyes narrowed as he looked at me wordlessly.
“Is this some kind of joke?” he said finally.
“No, of course not. Why would I joke about something like this?”
I wasn’t sure what reaction I expected him to have, but it certainly wasn’t a booming laugh that made the four other people in the coffee shop turn around and stare at us.
I sat and watched while he caught his breath and looked at me, his mouth still twitching. I was not amused.
“I’m sorry,” he said, still snorting a little. “But can you imagine if our parents could hear us now?”
That notion was a little funny. Actually, now that I remembered my mom’s excitement when she’d first met Sohail, it did seem hilarious. Would she find a way to blame me for this too? Maybe sending us out into the garden at night hadn’t been the best idea. I could have infected him. It was still too soon for me to laugh about it though. Plus, I didn’t want the jinn to jump back into me on account of laughing too loudly.
“You’re lucky your parents don’t know,” I said. “Mine found out in Seattle. That’s why they brought me here.”
And then I told him everything. I left nothing out. And after all this time, it felt so good to tell someone. Somebody who really got it.
“Wow,” he said after I was done. “I’m so sorry, Rukhsana. I can’t even begin to imagine what you’ve been going through.”
“I find it hard to believe myself,” I said. “A month ago, I had a pretty normal life. I was about to graduate and go to Caltech with Ariana. Now I feel like a character in someone else’s life.”
“That’s why I never told my parents,” Sohail said. “I knew they’d freak out completely and then who knows what kind of guilt trip they’d lay on me. I mean, I love them, but I’m not going to lose Mushtaq over them.”
I felt closer to him at that moment than I did to anyone. Even Ariana. Because he understood all of it. No explanations were needed. I was so tired of having to justify everything to everyone. I just wanted someone who would accept me exactly the way I was. No conditions, no caveats.
And as if he read my mind, Sohail leaned over.
“Can I say som
ething really cheesy?”
“Sure.”
“I know we just met, but doesn’t it feel like we’ve known each other for much longer? Like we were meant to meet and be in each other’s lives. Is that weird?”
“Not even a little bit,” I said. “I’m just so done with defending myself. I mean, is it bad that I care about my parents and don’t want to ruin their lives? Even though they’re going out of their way to ruin mine? Ariana and my friends always act as if it should be so easy for me to walk out and just live my life.”
He nodded. “It’s hard to explain to someone who hasn’t grown up in the kind of environment we did.”
“Right? And I do realize that I am in fact running away and ruining my parents’ reputation, but I had to at least try and see if they would come to their senses. And I really tried. But after what they’ve put me through, I don’t think I can ever forgive them.”
“I didn’t have to deal with that part because Mushtaq’s family is just as conservative as mine. But it does tear me up that I’m lying to my parents every day.”
“Do your friends know?”
He sipped his coffee before replying.
“Only my closest ones. Obviously, I’m not the only one; there are other gay people in Bangladesh. But they have to stay in hiding mostly, because it’s too dangerous for them to be out here.”
I knew all about the dangers. The arrests and disappearances. My parents had made it a point to make sure I was fully aware of the position I was putting all of us in. But just because something was illegal didn’t make it wrong. I wouldn’t allow them to reduce my existence to something that could be controlled by others. I was who I was, and I would not be erased.
Sohail eyed me intently as he finished the last of his coffee.
“You look like you could kill someone.”
I laughed nervously. “I was just thinking how much worse it is here. You know … to be in your situation.” I glanced around, suddenly very conscious of everyone around us.
