Chapter (3): The Immaculate Poem of Love
Irfan spent the entire night pacing back and forth, restless. By dawn, he had emptied nearly an entire pack of cigarettes.
Sitting in his easy chair, he held the last cigarette between two fingers, tapping it twice before bringing it back to his lips. He exhaled a final cloud of smoke into the morning air. Crushing the butt, he stood up, paced some more, and finally sat back down.
As the Fajr Adhan echoed through the air, Irfan stood up. He looked toward the sky, listening intently to every rhythmic sound of the call to prayer. The night chill had seeped into his skin, leaving his body cold, but his expression remained stoic. After the prayer call ended, he performed his ablutions and prayed.
Once finished, he walked over to the bed and began shoving Shuddho. Shuddho didn't budge. Annoyed, Irfan gave him a forceful kick.
Thud! Shuddho rolled right off the bed. Rubbing his waist with bleary eyes, he groaned, "Which mannerless brat thinks I'm a football? Look closely, you idiot—I'm a human being!"
Irfan ignored him and climbed into bed.
Now wide awake and agitated, Shuddho sat up. He had fallen once last night, and now again this morning. He glared at Irfan, who was now lying down comfortably. Grinding his teeth, Shuddho hissed, "Did you just throw me off? Stop acting like a traitor! My back is killing me!"
Without opening his eyes, Irfan muttered, "Wake me up in two hours. And I expect a cup of black coffee when I get up."
Shuddho snapped, "Do I look like your maid?"
"No, you look like my servant. Don't disturb me."
Shuddho stood up, tempted to kick Irfan right back to his own house. This guy was a constant headache. Shuddho shook his head, thinking of his aunt's luck—how she managed to raise such a stubborn, difficult son was beyond him.
Deciding to let it go for now, Shuddho went to offer his prayers.
Meanwhile, Maira woke up early and prayed. She had a lingering headache from lack of sleep, but she knew that even if she stayed in bed, sleep wouldn't come back. As the first light of dawn broke, she peeked out of her room. Stepping out cautiously, she froze like a statue when she saw her mother-in-law standing there.
Ruma Nawaz stared at Maira with a stern, somber face. Maira immediately lowered her gaze.
"Where is Irfan?" Ruma asked coldly.
Maira looked up, confused. She was hearing that name for the first time. She didn't know the members of this household yet. Who was this Irfan, and why was she being asked?
Ruma's voice sharpened. "Why aren't you speaking?"
Maira stammered, "Actually... I don't know him. If you could tell me who he is in this family..."
Ruma snapped in irritation, "You don't even know your husband's name? Why did you get married then?"
Maira was stunned. Right, I should have asked for his name, she thought. But her tongue couldn't stay quiet. Remembering the man from last night who had stormed out, she blurted out, "I think your son is involved in bad things. You should check on him. Good men don't stay out all night."
"Watch your tongue!" Ruma barked. "One more bad word about my son and I'll slap you!"
Tarek Nawaz stepped out of his room just then. "Why are you scolding her like that?"
"She's speaking ill of our son! She doesn't know her husband's name, and on top of that, she's making accusations!"
Tarek sighed. "Go to the kitchen. I've checked on Irfan; he's at Shuddho's house."
Ruma left for the kitchen, muttering under her breath. Maira made a face. Like mother, like son, she thought. Both are as bitter as neem leaves.
Tarek turned to Maira kindly. "Did you pray, mother?"
Maira smiled warmly. "Yes, Uncle."
"Still calling me Uncle? I am your father. Call me Baba."
Maira nodded readily. "Yes, Baba."
In the afternoon, Tarek took Maira out. Since she was from a village and had been cooped up in the house all day, he wanted her to see the city. Realizing she didn't have a phone, he took her to a mobile shop and bought her a nice smartphone.
Maira was naturally spirited; she'd be happy if someone just gave her a chocolate. But receiving a phone made her feel hesitant. Back home, she had only occasionally used her mother's phone.
Noticing her hesitation, Tarek gently reminded her that he was her father. Overjoyed, Maira took the phone. She wanted to jump with excitement but held herself back because of the crowd. Afterward, they went to a restaurant.
There, Maira bumped into two old friends, Raisha and Maisha. They had moved to the city in the ninth grade. Despite not seeing each other for two years, they recognized her instantly.
"Maira? Is that you?"
Maira turned and practically lunged at her friend. She couldn't hide her bubbly nature anymore. Raisha laughed, holding her. Maira hadn't changed a bit—still a bundle of energy.
"What are you doing here?" Maisha asked. "When did you come from the village?"
Maira let go of Raisha and said, "I got married."
"What?!" both friends exclaimed in unison.
Maira glanced at her father-in-law. Tarek cleared his throat and said, "Ammu, you sit here with your friends. I have some work to finish nearby. I'll pick you up when I'm done, okay?"
"Okay, Baba," Maira chirped.
Once he left, the three friends sat at a corner table. Raisha leaned in. "Tell us the story! Married already? Was it a secret romance?"
"Shut up!" Maira hissed. "My mom married me off because my stepfather couldn't stand me."
Her friends felt a pang of sympathy. They knew her mother had remarried after Maira's father passed away.
"I see," Raisha said softly. "Well, the family seems nice. Is the groom handsome or some old baldy?"
Maira put on an innocent face. "I don't know. I just know he's old."
Maisha gasped. "An old man? Why didn't you check?"
Maira didn't want to explain the mess. She changed the subject. "Forget about me. How's your exam prep going?"
Meanwhile, Irfan and Shuddho arrived at the same restaurant after university with their colleague, Ripon. Irfan was his usual brooding, silent self, while Shuddho and Ripon chatted away.
They sat at a table just one row away from Maira's. Shuddho and Ripon had their backs to Maira's table, but Irfan was facing her. Maira, talking animatedly, suddenly froze when her eyes landed on Irfan.
In a terrified whisper, she said, "Friends, there's a madman here. A lunatic! Let's run!"
"Where?" Maisha asked.
Maira pointed her finger directly at Irfan. Her voice was loud enough for their table to hear. Shuddho and Ripon turned around, while Irfan narrowed his eyes at her.
"Where is the madman?" Maisha whispered, confused. "He looks decent. Lots of people keep long hair as a style, you dummy."
Raisha slapped her own forehead and pulled Maira's hand down. "Why are you pointing? People will think you're the crazy one!"
Irfan's gaze was icy. Shuddho whispered to Ripon, "Well, at least someone finally recognized that we hang out with a psycho."
Irfan stood up abruptly. Ripon smacked Shuddho's back. "He's already pissed. If he hears you, you're dead."
Irfan clenched his fists, staring at Maira as if he wanted to devour her. Maira trembled. I called a madman mad, and now he's triggered. What will happen to me?
Shuddho looked at Maira; she looked like a mere child. He turned to Irfan, trying to play peacemaker. "She's just a kid, Irfan. Don't make a scene. She didn't mean it."
"How dare she call me that?" Irfan growled.
Maira shrank into her seat. Irfan pushed Shuddho aside and marched toward her. Maira tried to hide in the corner of the booth, reciting prayers under her breath.
Irfan stood over her. "Hey, idiot girl. Come out."
Maira was on the verge of tears. "Friend, save me! This madman is going to kill me!"
Hearing "madman" again, Irfan slammed his fist onto the table, making people nearby turn and stare. "Get out here! Or else..."
Maira suddenly found a spark of courage. "Don't come any closer! I have a very old husband! He's old, so he's very smart! He'll blow you away, I'm telling you!"
Shuddho and Ripon were flabbergasted. Irfan blinked. "What?"
Maira muttered to herself, "Stupid Englishman, showing off his English. Why doesn't someone kick this British guy out of Bangladesh?"
Raisha tried to apologize. "Brother, we are so sorry! She's just talking nonsense."
"Why are you apologizing?" Maira yelled at her friend. "This madman almost ran me over two days ago! He's a foreigner, he should be deported!"
Irfan was fuming. Shuddho dragged him back a few steps. Seeing an opening, Maira scrambled out of the booth to bolt. But before she could get away, Irfan reached out and grabbed her hijab.
Maira froze. If he pulled any harder, the pins would come undone and her hair would be exposed.
"Let her go, Irfan. People are watching," Shuddho pleaded.
"She keeps insulting me! I'm going to make her life hell!" Irfan shouted.
Maira seized the moment. She grabbed the hand holding her hijab and scratched him with all her might. Irfan didn't even flinch. Maira's own hands hurt from the effort, but he remained unmoved.
"Is your skin made of rhino hide?" she blurted out, immediately covering her mouth. She just couldn't help herself.
Irfan let go of the hijab but grabbed her left wrist in a vice-like grip.
"Look, let me go!" Maira cried. "My old husband won't spare you!"
As Irfan tried to pull her toward the exit to "teach her a lesson," Maira suddenly dropped to the floor, sitting flat on the ground.
She looked at Shuddho with puppy-dog eyes. "Brother, you look like a high-level good person. Please save me from your crazy friend!"
Shuddho stared at her, impressed by her audacity. She was calling Irfan a psycho while charming him for help. He felt sorry for the "old man" who had to deal with this girl.
"Irfan, let it go. She's just a girl," Shuddho said.
Irfan loosened his grip for a split second, and Maira didn't waste it. She sprang up and sprinted out of the restaurant like a lightning bolt.
Irfan stood there, fuming. Shuddho watched her disappear. "That girl runs faster than a monkey," he muttered.
Irfan grabbed Shuddho's collar in rage. "I won't let her go!"
"You're holding my collar while saying that. What kind of logic is that?" Shuddho asked.
Irfan let go in disgust and stormed out.
Outside, Maira ran straight into Tarek Nawaz. She grabbed his hand. "Baba, we're done. Let's go home. Now!"
"Wait, let me pay the bill, Ammu," Tarek said.
Maira saw Irfan coming out of the restaurant. "No! I'll pay my friends back later. Please, let's just go!"
"Is something wrong?"
Thinking fast, Maira grabbed her stomach. "Baba, I... I have a bathroom emergency! Please!"
Tarek, caught off guard, hurried her to the car. Maira ducked into the seat just as Irfan approached. She let out a breath of relief. She had survived.
Irfan stood on the sidewalk, his head throbbing with anger. His phone rang. It was his mother.
"What?" he snapped.
"Your aunts are here," Ruma said. "Come home. Don't act like a child. Your aunt wants to see you. I expect you here, not at Shuddho's."
Irfan remained silent, gripping the steering wheel. The thought of the "brat" his parents had forced him to marry made his blood boil.
"Your father didn't listen to me," Ruma said, her voice trembling. "Now that the marriage is done, are you going to ignore me too?"
Hearing his mother's voice soften, Irfan closed his eyes. "I'm coming."
He turned the car toward home.
To be continued....