Chapter 4: The Immaculate Poem of Love
Inaya had arrived at Irfan's house that evening with her aunt, Jahara, and Jahara's brother, Zahid. Inaya sat there, visibly dejected. She had been so excited to finally meet her sister-in-law, but upon arriving, she found out the bride wasn't even home—her father had taken her out sightseeing.
Inaya nibbled on snacks at the dining table while Jahara sat beside her, her eyes scanning the surroundings restlessly. Failing to spot the person she was looking for, Jahara let out a sigh of disappointment. After a moment, she nudged Inaya.
"Where is Irfan Bhai?"
"Probably at Shuddha Bhai's place," Inaya replied between bites. "Mom called him; he should be home soon."
Jahara's face lit up at the news, though it clouded over again the moment she remembered that Irfan was now a married man. A few minutes later, Zahid came and sat across from them. Just then, the doorbell rang. As the maid, Rita, moved to answer it, Zahid stopped her and stood up himself. While he wasn't exactly "best friends" with Irfan, they were on speaking terms, despite Zahid being two years younger.
Opening the door, he saw his uncle, Tareq Nawaz, and offered a respectful greeting. Then, spotting Maira beside him, he asked in surprise, "Uncle, is this Irfan Bhai's wife?"
Tareq Nawaz gave a gentle smile. "Yes."
Zahid extended his hand toward Maira. "Hi! Nice to meet you."
Maira hesitated. The idea of shaking hands with a stranger felt awkward and uncomfortable. Unable to overcome her shyness, she opted for a polite Salam instead. Zahid quirked an eyebrow, withdrew his hand, and accepted the greeting. He turned back to his uncle. "Uncle, where did you find this little doll?"
"It was destiny," Tareq Nawaz replied, walking inside.
Maira stared at Zahid with wide, confused eyes. Zahid chuckled. "You're so young, I'll just address you informally. What's your name?"
Maira forced a smile. "Maira Islam."
Zahid leaned in slightly. "Okay, Maira. You won't mind if I call you by your name, right? You're much younger than me. Irfan Bhai is quite the grumpy type, though—if he gives me the green light, I'll definitely stick to 'Maira.' Cool?"
Maira was internally screaming. She felt like she had escaped one madman only to run into a brat. Great, she thought. Still, she managed a forced nod. As soon as Zahid stepped aside, she hurried into the house. Zahid closed the door and followed. His mother (Irfan's aunt) came out of the room and sat on the sofa.
Zahid stood next to Maira and declared, "Mom, I want a cute doll like this one. How sweet!"
Everyone laughed. Zahid's mother teased, "We've already picked out a girl for you."
Zahid pouted. "I won't marry anyone unless they are a cute little doll like her. Decision final."
Maira felt incredibly embarrassed. She didn't recognize anyone in the room.
Inaya, whose damp, waist-length hair was flowing freely after her shower, stood up and walked over to Maira. She looked at Zahid and warned, "Zahid Bhai, don't you dare eye my sister-in-law. Go away!"
Zahid put on an innocent face and sat by his mother, laughing. "Oh come on, Inaya. I wasn't 'eyeing' her. I just want someone like her."
Inaya turned to Maira. "Mashallah! You are so beautiful, Bhabhi. Even as a girl, I'm getting a bit jealous!"
Maira was reaching her limit of awkwardness. Are they going to put me in a museum? she wondered. Sure, she was fair-skinned, but she felt like they were over-inflating her ego. She couldn't stay quiet any longer. With a fake smile, she blurted out, "I don't know who you all are, but I've realized you're all just buttering me up."
The room went silent. Everyone stared at the new bride, stunned by her bluntness. Seeing their expressions, Maira wondered if she had said something wrong. Inaya broke the silence with a laugh. "We aren't buttering you up! You really are beautiful."
Just then, Irfan's mother, Ruma Nawaz, stepped out of her room. "What's happening?"
Inaya grabbed Maira's hand. "Mom, Bhabhi is so cute!"
"And what am I supposed to do about that?" Ruma replied coldly.
Inaya's smile vanished. She looked at her father, only to see him staring back at her with a stern expression. She worried—had Irfan told them about her secret tour plans? Shaking off the thought, she asked Maira, "What grade are you in, Bhabhi?"
Maira smiled. "I'm taking my SSC exams this year. You're my husband's sister, right? I guessed because you called my mother-in-law 'Mom.' And who are the rest of them? Introduce me, please."
Inaya stared at her, dumbfounded. Maira spoke to her as if they were old friends, with zero hesitation. Inaya liked her spirit, but the "SSC" part shocked her. She's that young? Inaya was taking her HSCs this year. Her older brother's wife was two years younger than her!
"You're so young," Inaya managed. "Younger than me!"
Maira chuckled. "Yes. Actually, your brother is an old man. Compared to him, I'm quite a child."
The room gasped. Irfan's aunt, visibly irritated, whispered, "Sister, where did you find this chatterbox?"
Ruma Nawaz remained silent, but Tareq Nawaz spoke up firmly. "No one will make rude comments about my daughter-in-law."
The aunt went quiet, but Maira stepped forward with a grin. "Auntie, I'm actually happy you called me a chatterbox! You know, because I don't keep things bottled up, my heart is much healthier than yours. I bet if we did a check-up right now, my heart would be in the best shape."
The aunt rolled her eyes. Zahid clapped. "Spot on, Mara!"
Maira frowned. "What is 'Mara'?"
"Your name!" Zahid laughed.
Maira made a face. "My name is Maira, not Mara."
Zahid scratched his head. "Oh, sorry! I forgot the 'i'."
Jahara was fuming. A strange, sharp jealousy was pricking at her. She felt like slapping the "act" right off Maira's face. "So annoying," she muttered.
Inaya pulled Maira toward Jahara. "Bhabhi, this is my cousin, Jahara."
When Maira reached out for a handshake, Jahara gave her a look of pure disgust. Maira simply laughed it off. "Are you annoyed because I talk too much? I have some cotton in my bag; I'll give you some later to plug your ears, okay? I just can't stay quiet. Sorry, Appu!"
Jahara grit her teeth. Inaya was baffled by the tension but chose to stay silent. She led Maira to her aunt next. "And this is my Khalamani (Aunt)."
Maira greeted her. "Auntie—I mean, Khalamoni. I was right the first time, wasn't I?"
The aunt stared at her, her patience thinning. Just then, the doorbell rang again. Jahara jumped up, knowing it was Irfan. She rushed to the door before anyone else could and opened it with a sweet smile. "How are you, Irfan Bhai?"
Irfan glanced past her toward the dining area, seeing the crowd. "Fine," he said curtly, walking past her.
Jahara's heart sank. He couldn't even ask how I am? Irfan walked toward his aunt. A girl was standing with her back to him. Because he was so tall, she only came up to his chest. He offered a Salam to his aunt over the girl's head.
Maira, hearing that deep, booming voice right behind her, turned around. Her eyes went wide with terror. She let out a piercing scream, clutching her face. She stumbled back, nearly falling before grabbing the edge of the sofa.
Irfan glared at her, confused. Maira swallowed hard, trembling.
"What happened, honey?" Tareq Nawaz rushed over.
"Bhabhi, what's wrong?" Inaya asked.
Maira pointed a shaking finger at Irfan. "That... that madman! He followed me all the way home! Someone save me!"
The room went silent. Irfan's face turned a dangerous shade of red. Without a word, he grabbed Maira's hand and began dragging her toward the front door.
"Let go! Let go of me!" Maira screamed, scratching his hand with her nails. "You rude man! Have you no shame, touching someone else's wife?"
Irfan reached the door, pulled it open, and practically threw her out before slamming it shut in her face.
Outside, Maira burst into tears. Why did he throw me out?
Inside, Tareq Nawaz yelled, "Why did you throw her out like that?"
"Because she's an idiot," Irfan snapped. "And why are you letting just anyone into the house?"
Zahid piped up from the side, "Bhai, she's not 'anyone.' That 'doll' is your wife. Don't you recognize your own bride?"
Irfan froze. "Wife?"
Tareq Nawaz threw the door open. Maira was standing there, teary-eyed. Seeing the door open, she rushed back in, grabbed Irfan's arm, and tried to pull him. "You madman! Get out! This is my father-in-law's house! How dare you throw me out of my own home?"
Everyone was speechless. Jahara stepped forward, enraged. "What do you think you're doing?"
"Maira, let him go," Tareq Nawaz said softly.
"Dad, don't you see?" Maira sobbed. "This crazy person comes into our house and acts like this? He threw your daughter-in-law out!"
Irfan's temper finally snapped. He shoved her away and delivered a stinging slap to her right cheek.
The force sent Maira reeling. Before she could fall, she bumped into Ruma Nawaz, who had stepped up behind her. Enraged by Maira's insults toward her son, Ruma grabbed Maira and slapped the same cheek again.
Maira collapsed, but Inaya caught her just before Zahid could reach them. Maira began to sob, her head spinning from the double blow. Through her tears, she whispered, "The mother-in-law is a monster... and the son is just like her. What heavy hands... my cheek is melting."
Only Inaya heard her. She rubbed Maira's back in shock—even after being hit that hard, this girl wouldn't stop talking!
"Ruma!" Tareq Nawaz roared.
Ruma didn't flinch. "I won't tolerate this disrespect from your friend's daughter! Don't defend her. Why is she insulting my son? He didn't even come home yesterday because of her. I finally convinced him to come today, and she's trying to kick him out?"
"So you hit her?"
"You forced this marriage on him!" Ruma cried, her eyes filling with tears. "You gave him a girl who keeps slandering him. My son is so angry he wants to move out near his university. I can't live without him! If he leaves this house, he'll never come back. I'm his mother—only I know the pain."
Irfan walked over to his mother, sat at her feet, and kissed her hands. "I'll always stay with you, Mom. Please don't cry."
He looked at his mother with a pained expression. He was a man of few words, often misunderstood as cold or angry, but he loved his mother deeply. It hurt him to see her cry because of the insults hurled at him—especially about his hair, which had already caused her so much grief from the in-laws.
Irfan stood up. As he headed toward his room, his father's voice stopped him.
"She is your wedded wife. Learn to accept her. Don't act like a beast."
Irfan looked back with a mocking glint in his eyes. "To accept someone, you need the son's consent. What kind of 'civilized' father are you, forcing a girl down his son's throat?"
"Irfan!"
Irfan clenched his fist. "I don't accept this child as my wife. I don't accept this marriage. Don't say another word about it, or I'll take Mom and leave this house for good."
As he turned to leave, his eyes briefly flickered to Maira. The red marks of five fingers were stark against her pale skin. It looked like the skin might even break. Maira caught his gaze and made a spiteful face at him.
Irfan muttered, "Stupid monkey," and stormed off to his room.
Maira finally realized her mistake. The slaps had clarified one thing: the "madman" was indeed the son of the house—her husband. No, not husband, she thought, Un-husband.
"He says he won't accept me?" she whispered to herself while wiping her tears. "One day, I'll cut all his hair off and call him a 'Baldy' and say I don't accept him either! He doesn't know who he's dealing with."
The dining room was heavy with silence. One by one, everyone retreated to their rooms. Tareq Nawaz sighed, wondering if he had made a mistake. He had promised his friend long ago that their children would marry, and he had kept his word, but at what cost?
He walked over to Maira and patted her head. "I'm here for you, daughter. Don't be sad, okay?"
Maira looked at him. She barely remembered her own father, but in that moment, she felt like she had found him again.
"Inaya, come to my room," Tareq Nawaz called out.
Inside the room, Inaya stood nervously before her father. Tareq Nawaz looked at her for a long time, then gently took the edge of her scarf and covered her head.
"You've grown up, my daughter. Always keep yourself covered like this," he said softly.
"I wear a hijab outside, Dad," Inaya replied.
"My daughter is precious. I want you to protect that. Your cousin Zahid is a grown man; don't be too informal or uncovered around him, okay?"
Inaya hugged him. "Okay, Dad. I promise."
Ruma Nawaz appeared at the door and handed Inaya a tube of ointment. "Inaya, put this on that girl's cheek. And stay with her tonight."
Inaya was surprised. Her mother had been the one to hit her, yet here she was, secretly caring for her. Tareq Nawaz smiled. He knew his wife—she had a temper, but her heart was soft.
To be continued...