Chapter 5: The Immaculate Poem of Love
Returning to her room, Maira slowly removed her burqa and hijab.She headed to the washroom to perform wudu. As the water splashed against her face, it felt like salt being rubbed into an open wound. She gritted her teeth, enduring the sting. A few salty tears mingled with the tap water.
She missed her mother dearly. Her mother had never laid a hand on her. Even if her stepfather didn't love her much, he had never struck her. If her mother knew that both her husband and mother-in-law had hit her today, would she be hurt? The thought made Maira laugh out loud bitterly. Her mother was busy with her new family; why would she waste time worrying about Maira?
Maira playfully tapped her own forehead, but as her hand brushed her bruised cheek, she winced. "Ouch..." she hissed, face contorted in pain. Composing herself, she finished her prayers.
After the prayer, Maira sat on the bed and emptied a small bag full of various chocolates she had "bought" from her father-in-law. She was peeling one open when someone entered. Seeing Inaya at the door, Maira beamed and hopped off the bed.
"Sister! Come in, come in."
Inaya stood frozen, staring at Maira. The girl's right cheek was a frightening shade of crimson. Inaya felt a pang of guilt and sorrow—how could this girl still manage to smile?
Maira took a bite of her chocolate, grabbed Inaya's hand, and pulled her to the bed. "Oh, sis, don't look so worried. It'll heal. Don't stress. But why are you calling me 'Bhabi' (sister-in-law)? I'm younger than you!"
Inaya smiled faintly. "You are my brother's wife. Regardless of age, that makes you my Bhabi."
Maira handed more than half of her chocolate to Inaya. "Start eating, Sis. If you don't, I'll finish them all in the blink of an eye, and you won't get any."
Inaya laughed. She was starting to really like this girl. Maira took another bite and continued, "Your brother doesn't even acknowledge me as his wife. Why stick to that formal title? I don't like it. Just be my sweet, cute older sister. Let's cut out the 'Bhabi' business."
Inaya's expression clouded at the mention of her brother, but she laughed at Maira's bluntness. "Okay, okay. I'll just call you Maira."
Maira smiled. As Inaya reached out to apply ointment to her cheek, Maira flinched. "Ah! Sis, it would have healed on its own. Ouch... it stings!"
Inaya gently blew on the wound for a long time. "It'll be better by tonight," she whispered.
Maira had tears in her eyes but a smile on her face. Inaya watched her in awe. What is this girl made of? "Sis, did you pray Maghrib?" Maira asked between bites.
Inaya shook her head. "No, I missed it. I'll pray it with Isha."
Maira shook her head disapprovingly. "No, no. Why sit around? Go pray now. I promise I won't eat your chocolates. Go! It's not right to delay on purpose."
Inaya laughed. Maira was so spirited. She touched Maira's cheek gently. "You are truly a good person, Maira."
Maira chuckled. "I know! I tell everyone that. People in this house keep saying I'm good, even though the husband and mother-in-law teamed up to change the 'map' of my face. But I don't mind, Sis."
She paused, her expression suddenly turning somber. "Coming here, I've found a father. Your father is a very good man."
Inaya was struck by the change in her tone. "Your father...?"
Maira looked up, a hollow smile on her lips. "He's gone."
As she spoke, a single tear escaped her right eye. Maira immediately laughed it off, wiped her eyes with both hands, and pushed her chocolate aside. "Go on, Sis. Go pray."
Inaya watched her, speechless. She had never met anyone like Maira—someone who could bleed from the heart and still find the strength to laugh.
When Inaya went to the washroom, Maira curled up, hugging her knees. She felt a sudden wave of emptiness. Many people lose their fathers, but for her, it felt like an unending ache. She had hoped her stepfather would love her like a real father, but instead, he had only driven a wedge between her and her mother.
She pulled a small diary and a pen from her bag and wrote a single line:
> "I miss you, Baba. Miss you, Ma."
>
She tucked the diary away and returned to her chocolates. When Inaya returned, Maira asked, "Sis, do you like chocolates?"
"Not as much as you," Inaya teased. "But I love Fuchka (Panipuri) the most."
Maira jumped up. Inaya gasped in surprise. "Let's go! Let's go get some Fuchka! Now that you've mentioned it, I won't be able to sleep without eating some."
Inaya's eyes widened. "No, no, Maira! Brother hates it when we go out at night. I can't go."
Maira draped her hijab around her neck. "Oh, Sis, why are you so scared? Learn to conquer your fear! I'll protect you from that 'Grim Reaper' brother of yours. Let's go!"
Inaya stared at her. "You literally just got slapped by him. And now..."
Maira turned her left cheek toward her. "Look, this side is perfectly fine. If he hits me again, I'll just give him this cheek. He won't hit you. Besides, a slap is worth a plate of Fuchka! Please, let's go!"
Inaya looked at her, puzzled. Doesn't she feel sad? After being beaten and insulted, she was still full of life. Not wanting to ruin Maira's happiness, Inaya finally agreed.
They stepped out onto the street. Inaya had asked her cousin Zahara to join, but Zahara refused the moment she heard Maira was going. Inaya couldn't understand why Zahara was acting so cold.
They stood before a roadside stall. Inaya wanted to go to a restaurant, but Maira insisted that street food tasted better. As Maira ordered four plates, she spotted two familiar figures in the distance. She rubbed her eyes. Was she hallucinating her 'husband' because of the slap?
"Sis, who are those people over there?"
Inaya looked over and her face went pale. "B-Brother..."
Maira realized it wasn't a hallucination. Irfan was there with his friend, Shuddho. Irfan's voice cut through the air like a blade.
"What are you doing here?"
Inaya stammered, unable to find words. Irfan glared at Maira, then at Inaya. "Who is this girl to you?"
"Bhabi," Inaya whispered.
Irfan froze. "What?"
Beside him, Shuddho looked confused. Was this girl Irfan's wife?
Irfan grabbed Inaya's arm and started pulling her toward the car. Maira followed them, bewildered. "Hey! Let go of her! We haven't even had our Fuchka yet!"
"Get in the car," Irfan barked at Inaya.
"Brother, I'm sorry! Don't say anything to Maira," Inaya pleaded.
"Get in the car before I lose my temper!" Irfan shouted.
Shuddho stepped in. "Ah, Irfan, leave it. They're just kids. Don't scold them."
Maira looked at Shuddho and said, "How did such a nice man like you end up with such a rude friend? We just came for Fuchka. Look at how he's acting!"
Shuddho's eyes widened. He whispered to himself, "And there goes the fuel into the fire."
Irfan ground his teeth, his gaze fixed on Maira. She felt a shiver of fear but stood her ground. "Look, I'm not afraid of you. Don't look at me like that." (Internally, she was screaming, Why am I so scared?)
Irfan stepped forward and gripped Maira's wrist tightly.
"Ouch! My hand is going to snap! Let go!"
Irfan dragged her to the stall. Shuddho tried to intervene. "Irfan, stop. You're hurting her."
"Mind your own business," Irfan snapped. Then, to the stall owner: "Line up every single plate of Fuchka you have."
Maira gasped. "What are you going to do with all that? Let go of me!"
"You wanted Fuchka? You're going to eat every single one until you're satisfied, you stupid girl," Irfan growled.
Maira looked at him like he was insane. "Look, you might think I'm a cow—maybe you need an eye exam and some glasses. I'm a cute kid, not a cow that can eat a mountain of Fuchka at once!"
Shuddho burst out laughing. Irfan's face darkened. Shuddho stepped in and ordered four plates properly.
While Maira sat to eat, Shuddho took plates to the car for Inaya. He ended up eating a few of Inaya's spicy Fuchkas and immediately regretted it, gasping for water as his eyes turned red.
Maira was lost in her food, her face glowing under the yellow streetlights. She looked genuinely happy, as if the Fuchka was the most delicious thing in the world.
Irfan watched her from a distance. He couldn't comprehend how something so simple could make her so happy. Then, his eyes fell on her swollen cheek. He remembered the slaps from earlier today—both his and his mother's. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
Shuddho walked up to Maira. "What's your name?"
"Maira Islam," she replied with a smile.
Shuddho noticed the bruise. "What happened to your cheek?"
Maira finished her second plate, her eyes tearing up from the spice. She lowered her voice. "Your friend found me an easy target and hit me. Did you know?"
Irfan's eyes narrowed. Maira looked at him and added, "If you ever hit me again, I'll file a case against you! Don't you know hitting your wife is a crime?"
As Irfan stepped toward her in rage, Maira bolted. Terrified he would grab her again, she ran toward the car on the other side of the road without looking.
A massive truck was barreling toward her.
"Look out!" Shuddho screamed.
Irfan lunged forward. Just as the truck was about to strike, he grabbed Maira's arm and yanked her back. She crashed into his chest, trembling, as the truck roared past, inches away.
Maira's heart was hammering against her ribs. She was alive, but only just.
Suddenly, Irfan pulled her away and delivered a stinging slap to her right cheek.
Maira stumbled back. The pain was excruciating—like fire on an open wound. Tears flowed freely now.
Inaya ran to her side, horrified. Shuddho held Irfan back, shocked by the sudden violence.
"You savage!" Maira sobbed, clutching her face. "Doesn't your hand hurt? Is my face public property? You just keep hitting and hitting. You have hands like iron and a heart like stone!"
Irfan moved toward her again, but Shuddho blocked him. "Get in the car," Shuddho told Inaya.
Inside the car, Maira wiped her eyes and looked at Inaya. "Sis... did you finish your Fuchka?"
Inaya stared at her, her heart breaking. Maira was bleeding from the corner of her lip, yet she was asking about food.
"Sis, are you upset because I didn't sit with you? Your brother is a monster, so I stayed away. We'll eat together another day, okay?"
Inaya couldn't find the words. Maira seemed like a broken doll that kept trying to dance. Maira turned to look out the window at the dark night and whispered to herself, "Miss you, Baba... Ma."
Outside, Shuddho confronted Irfan. "Why are you hitting her like that? She's half your age! Have you no mercy?"
Irfan remained silent for a long time, then asked coldly, "When did I hit her?"
"Her cheek is bleeding, Irfan! What do you mean 'when'?"
"I saved her life and punished her for being reckless. That's how you handle idiots," Irfan said nonchalantly.
Shuddho stared at him. This wasn't the Irfan he knew. "Look, if you can't stand her, get a divorce. Don't treat her like this. She's an orphan. I'll arrange the papers for you."
Irfan grabbed Shuddho's collar, his eyes flashing with a strange fire. "Did I ask you to stick your nose in my business?"
Shuddho was baffled. Irfan said he didn't want her, yet he refused a divorce. What kind of man was he?
To be continued...