by Laki Khan
It was nearly midday and the sky was a perfect blue with the sun beating down. I absorbed this vision fully and completely as if it were the last, as I waited in thoughtful anticipation. It had been a few hours since Abdullah had left so he should have returned by now. I stood up, loosening my hijab as it was hot and humid and the air was dry, increasing my anxiety a little more. I began to slowly pace the front courtyard, pausing at times to look towards the concrete path in desperate search for Abdullah and Sumayah.
‘Saira, sit down, they’ll be here soon,’ said Layla, who sat near me appearing as anxious as I was. I smiled and nodded, although my heart was telling me something else altogether. Just then we heard baby Khadijah crying. ‘I’ll just check on her,’ Layla said.
‘Yes, of course, you carry on,’ I told her. I sat down with sweaty palms and waited. An hour or so later I was still there when Abdullah returned and I looked for Sumayah, thinking that maybe she would be behind him. However, to my disappointment, Sumayah was not there. I stood up and looked at him.
‘I’m ever so sorry, Saira, but she was unable to come,’ he told me in an apologetic voice. Abdullah explained how he had informed Sumayah that I would be departing for London the next day and that I had wished to see her one final time. Abdullah even repeated this information to Sumayah’s father and offered to escort her here and back, but her father declined unapologetically. My eyes filled with tears and I made a failed attempt to disguise it. ‘Sumayah asked me to tell you that she is sorry,’ Abdullah told me.
‘I am terribly sorry, Saira. I tried my best,’ said a defeated Abdullah.
‘No, please don’t be sorry. I appreciate your kind efforts,’ I said to him and then walked into my room. I lay on the bed, sobbing uncontrollably. All I had wanted was to meet with Sumayah one final time to hug her and bid her farewell forever. I had known her and her father since we were young children and today he had denied me this simple request. I could not help but feel betrayed and dejected; surely Sumayah could have reasoned with him just a little more on this one occasion, I thought. I wondered what would have happened if she had come here without notifying her father, just this once. Perhaps I was being selfish expecting Sumayah to defy her father just so I could have met with her one final time. I soon surrendered to the idea that I would never meet Sumayah again, but I would hold on protectively to my cherished memories of her. I thought of Omar; times such as these I needed him and longed to feel his presence and the sweetness and comfort of his aroma. Layla walked into the room and I quickly composed myself, wiping away the evidence from my face.
‘Oh, Saira, I’m so sorry,’ she said, placing her comforting arm around me.
I smiled half-heartedly and whispered, ‘I guess I was never meant to see her again.’
‘Just think, this time tomorrow you will be beside Omar, and all this will be a distant memory,’ said Layla, only I did not want any of this to become a distant memory. ‘We have prepared you a special farewell dinner, so please come and join us,’ she instructed. I took a few minutes and a few deep breaths and then walked into the kitchen to find a smiling Abdullah, Layla and Khadijah sitting next to the table where a feast was set out.
The dreaded morning arrived, the morning I was due to bid farewell to this house that I now called home. I held this village in high esteem as it had accommodated and nurtured a despised disdained woman such as myself – one who had been disowned and ill-fated in many ways. Remarkably my time spent here had developed me as a person and as a woman and if anything had saved me from my worst enemy: myself. The turmoil of events here had enabled me to grow and to learn about life and relationships; and I had also met some wonderful people here who had taught me that life goes on no matter what the situation or consequence and that no matter how much tragedy there was, one must soldier on and conquer the darker spaces within. Most importantly this house had played a large part in my finally being able to rid myself of the horrific memories of Hamid. I sat in my room staring into my already packed suitcase; this was the item I would be beginning my journey with, the irony being that I had come to this house with only a single carrier bag holding just a few pieces of clothing. Now, here I was leaving with this gigantic bag containing clothing and items that Omar had asked Layla to purchase on my behalf.
Layla entered the room after a gentle knock. She sat beside me and softly said, ‘You will have to leave soon, Saira.’ I looked at her and nodded. I entered the room I had shared with Ammuji for one final time and wrapped her shawl tightly around me, embracing her fragrance and wishing that I could drown in it. ‘Saira,’ Layla called from behind, ‘I knew you would come here,’ she said.
‘I wish she was here, Layla,’ I said, sobbing.
She placed her arm around me. ‘Saira, she would never want to see you upset. I am positive she would want you to go and live your life to the fullest with Omar and she would want you to always be smiling.’ I nodded in agreement. ‘Go, Saira, go and be happy and let go of all this sadness. Ammu is at peace now, and Omar is right there waiting for you so go to him,’ she told me. My instincts confirmed that Layla was absolutely correct and I cleaned up my face, tidied my hijab and walked round to the front of the house and onto the patio where Abdullah stood smiling, holding on to my rather large suitcase. I bade farewell to Layla and the baby, hugging them so tight I could almost feel the beat of my heart.
‘Layla, you have done so much for me – words aren’t enough to express my appreciation. Thank you so much, I will never forget it,’ I told her.
‘Don’t be silly: be happy and tell Omar that we are here and will look after the house like it’s our own.’ She smiled. I took one final glance at the house and thought of our little house back in Jahed Pur; I thought of the stream that ran through the back of our house, the stream that I had spent hours sitting near with my feet dipped into the coolness of the water. As I walked down the concrete path I recalled my journey here, breathing deeply in an attempt to combat the well of anxiety. I walked past the big pond where the water shone in the scorching sunshine. Nearly everybody I walked past I bade farewell to and most of them blessed me with good wishes and congratulated me, as having the chance to travel abroad – and in my case to London – was perceived as a high achievement throughout the village.
Just as I was about to take the road beyond the big pond, with reluctant feet, I heard a sweet voice. ‘Apa, you’re leaving.’ It was the angelic-looking boy, Jamal. I looked at his sweet face and embraced him.
‘I am, but I will come back to visit very soon, and when I do I promise I will bring you back a very big bag of sweets from London,’ I told him.
‘Do you promise?’ he asked. I nodded, smiled, and kissed his wet forehead as he ran back off again to play. I continued walking behind Abdullah towards the waiting taxi that was going to transport us to the airport, where I would begin my journey of a thousand miles or more.
With an ache in my heart I bade farewell to the feel of the mud, the sound of the waves, the open blue skies, the heat of the sunshine and the floating shada shapla. I bade farewell to the enchanting sunset, the chirping birds at dawn, the laughter of my childhood, the fresh smell of jute, the open air and, most importantly, my precious memories captive in my beloved native land: Bangladesh. I silently prepared my mind, my heart and my soul for the new journey that lay ahead.
Chapter 20 – Solace in his Arms
I opened my eyes to another cold, foggy, frosty, grey morning in London, surprised to find myself tucked up all neat and warm in bed, shielded from the early morning cold and feeling somewhat confused as my thoughts were no longer in my native land with my beloved mother. I looked over to Omar’s empty pillow; it appeared cold and unslept in, which left me wondering if perhaps he had spent the entire night at Kareem’s house. Exhaling a deep sigh, I recalled the events of the previous night’s function and began to feel extremely guilty, firstly for doubting Omar and then for shutting him out and asking him to leave. Placing my hands over my head in shame
I wondered how I had got into bed, as the last thing I was able to recall was curling up on the sofa and sobbing to my heart’s content. I had been unable to comprehend my erratic emotional state lately; one moment I was perfectly all right and the next I was consumed with guilt, grief, anger, and pain, and poor Omar was dealing with this turbulent flight of emotions without even letting out a sigh. I got out of bed and looked through the window at the grey and cloudy sky; rain covered the streets and everything in sight – typical British weather. I needed to see Omar at once, firstly to apologise and then to ensure that he was okay and to set things right. As I reached out for the door handle I noticed a small envelope lying on the floor. Curiously I picked it up and opened it, to discover that it was a letter addressed to me.
My Dearest Saira,
I am positive that the horrible events of last night have left their imprint upon you and are perhaps haunting you as much as they are me. However, I have come to the conclusion that I should shower you with love more often and tell you the significance that you hold in my life. I want you to know that I’m overtaken with joy that you and I are bound together in marriage and I cannot contemplate anybody else ever taking your place in this life or the hereafter. I want to take this opportunity to tell you that for me you are the air that I breathe, the orange sun in the sky and the light of a thousand stars. You are my silver lining amongst the dark clouds. You have my heart and my soul and not a second goes by that I don’t want to spend with you. I feel fortunate to have shared this amazing journey with you and hope that God continues to bless us with more love each day. With you, I feel invincible, like a bird high up in the soaring sky; our love has no limit, no boundaries, as if we are two bodies inhabiting one soul. I want you to know that I chose you once, and I would choose you again, without a doubt, without reservation. I declare that my love for you is as deep as the ocean and I will fall in love with you every single day for the rest of my life.
You are probably wondering where I am right now. As soon as you finish reading this, I will be right outside waiting for you to join me, so that we can continue our journey of love together hand in hand, side by side from here all the way to Jannah…
With all my love,
Omar.
I stood captivated by this amazing letter as a teardrop fell onto to it, blurring some of the writing. He never ceased to amaze me, be it through actions or through words. At once I opened the door, unable to be away from him any longer. I searched for him as I walked down our hallway, to discover him waiting patiently in the warmth of our lounge; he appeared anxious. I looked at him and then the letter in my hand and, ran into his open arms, locking mine around his neck in an embrace so tight I almost stopped breathing. Sobbing, I said, ‘I am so sorry, Omar, I am so sorry, please forgive me.’
He held me tighter, looked into my eyes and said, ‘You have nothing to be sorry for.’ We sat together a while; I felt safe and secure, wrapped up in the comfort of his arms as he caressed my hair. ‘Saira, did you like the letter?’ he asked.
I smiled and answered, ‘You’re quite the poet, aren’t you? I loved it.’ We were sitting in front of the open fireplace snug, warm and content. He told me that he had returned just after midnight to find me fast asleep and had carried me into bed. I held his gentle, soft hands and he took them up to his face and kissed them, leaving another imprint of our love for me to cherish. We sat in silence a while, as my mind drifted into another place, only this one was a happy place, a vision of me and Omar in our little apartment, filled with love and care for each other. Two things I had become positive about: I had fallen irrevocably and unimaginably in love with him. Secondly, not only did he nurture my soul but he had now become the sole owner of my mind, heart and body. He reinforced the fruit of patience, and the notion that what awaits you is always sweeter than the bitterness of longing.
Just then Omar received a phone call. He needed to leave imminently to attend to a work-related emergency. ‘Saira, I have to leave. I’m sorry, but I really need to sort this out. Will you be all right?’ he asked.
‘Yes, of course. I will be right here when you get back,’ I told him and he smiled, taking my breath away with that magical sparkle in his eyes.
Just then there was a gentle knocking at the door. I figured Omar must have forgotten his laptop that was still on the dinner table, so I grabbed it and walked to the door, holding it out for him. Only the person standing there, to my bewilderment, was Tara. ‘Hello, Saira,’ she said in a timid voice. I began to close the door at once, furious at the mere sight of her. ‘No, please stop,’ she said assertively, placing her hand on the door.
‘I only answered the door as I thought that you were Omar. I have nothing to say to you,’ I told her firmly.
‘Saira, your anger is completely justified, but I promise I have not come here to cause any trouble. I only want five minutes of your time, please.’
There appeared to be something genuine about her manner, almost bordering on sincerity, so I invited her in and told her, ‘You have five minutes. I don’t want Omar to find you here.’
‘Thank you, Saira,’ she replied, and she walked in looking around in awe. We sat in silence for a moment on opposite sides of the sofa with a tension that seemed to overtake the entire room. ‘Saira, I assure you that I have not come here to cause you any harm. It’s just… yesterday, seeing you both and the love that he has for you has given me a chance to reflect, and Omar was right – I need to move forward,’ she began.
‘Tara, I don’t want to hear anything against my husband,’ I said firmly.
‘Saira, please,’ she said, choking back tears. ‘I came to return something, something that is rightfully yours.’ I looked at her in dismay. I felt fear overtake me, as Tara held out something in the palm of her hand, which she then gently placed into mine. I looked, speechless, at the diamond encrusted ring, and the fear I felt earlier now heightened as I realised this was an engagement ring. I looked at Tara, confused, as I tried to comprehend this revelation. ‘Saira, you are the rightful owner of this ring, you deserve to be Omar’s wife in every way possible, and I want to return this to you so that I can move forward,’ she said, as a thousand questions gathered in my mind to which I needed answers right away.
‘What are you trying to imply, Tara?’ I demanded, heartbroken.
‘Saira, Omar and I were engaged to marry upon his return to the UK, but he met you and called off our engagement, and it broke my heart. But, please believe me, Omar only agreed to this alliance due to emotional blackmail, which I hold my father solely responsible for. I know that Omar will never divulge any of this to you for fear of losing you. He has a heart of gold, and I am truly sorry for everything that happened yesterday.’
She walked out, leaving me holding the ring in my hand, which provoked more questions. Part of me felt guilty for entering Omar’s settled life, while another part was sad at Tara’s heartbreak, although none of this lessened the love he had for me and that I had for him, and nothing would change what destiny had bound together – neither me, Omar or Tara. I recalled Omar telling me about the personal vendetta Chacha had against him and everything began to appear crystal clear now. That moment I decided I would honour the many sacrifices Omar had made for me, as it was because of his commitment to me that today Chacha had gone against him. In turn I decided to bury this revelation forever, and submit myself, and my life, to Omar. I vowed to accept pain, grief and happiness as long as it was with him. My love for him had become pure in the truest sense and my obligation was to embrace my life with him fully and completely, and I eagerly waited in anticipation.
Upon his return he swept me up into his arms at once. I looked into his deep eyes, taking his hand into mine, and made a declaration to him that I never imagined I would. ‘Omar, I love you with all my heart, you have held me together through everything,’ I proclaimed. He appeared shocked and bewildered more than anything. ‘I’m sorry that it’s taken so long for me to accept our marriage. You have done
so much for me, and I have been so selfish and so absorbed in my own grief that I have failed to see what has been right in front of me all along,’ I continued.
He pulled me into his chest, locking his arms around me once again in a heartfelt embrace. ‘Saira, I truly feel that we have a connection, it’s a bond so strong it can withstand any storm, any form of turbulence, till death do us part.’ I looked into his eyes and our hands intertwined, almost as if we were two bodies inhabiting one soul. I laid my head on his supportive shoulder, inhaling that aroma I adored so much: a little of the ocean and light sandalwood with a mixture of amber; it took my breath away leaving me in awe every time.
