consider our wishes and feelings. I want a grandson. Our
pir
has said that you will have a son. How’s that?”
Faiza’s cheeks glowed with delight. Boys were always wanted, especially first time. It would be a great honour indeed to have a son.
“Now we have got this
perchanvah
of
hers
in the house. I’ll have to do something about it.” Her mother-in-law continued, as she moved briskly across her courtyard into the
bavarchikhanah
, kitchen. There she took out a pinch of red chilies from the container and returning to the courtyard called Faiza to stand in front of her. She ritually circled the air over Faiza’s head and shoulders with the chili powder still between her fingers.
Then she checked Faiza’s neck to see if she wore the amulet with some holy words written by the pir on it.
The amulet,
tweez
, around her neck was to ward off the evil eye.
“I think that from now on, I had better stay at home, all the time. I don’t trust
that
girl. If she sets a foot in our house again I’ll…”
“You’ll what Kaniz Bibi?” Her husband asked, returning from the mosque. He had heard what she’d said. “Nothing” Kaniz said defensively.
“You women! You were talking about Salma. Why can’t you stop victimising the poor girl? When will you women stop your superstitious ways and customs? Do you think that swirling chili powder over your daughter-in-law’s head will insure her good health? Huh”, he laughed.
Kaniz kept a tight rein on her anger, as she confronted her husband.
“You always find it so amusing, don’t you? You delight in belittling our beliefs, don’t you?”
“I find it utter nonsense. It is
shirk
, against the teaching of Islam and it is inhuman. How would you feel if Salma was your daughter, and somebody treated her, the way that you treat her?”
“Bah! You men! You don’t understand anything. Let me tell you what my
pir
has told me.” She smiled at him.
“What did your
pir
tell you this time, Kaniz Bibi?” He silkily asked, loathing the influence that the
pir
had over his wife and other women.
Kaniz looked at him gloatingly. “He said that we are going to have a grandson. He had a dream and a premonition.”
“Oh well, that’s great, if he said that. What will you do if it is a girl? Will you return it to him?” He chuckled.
Kaniz turned away from him exasperated. It always ended like this. He managed to nettle her, and she turned away from him, stronger in her beliefs than ever.
…ooo000ooo…
The next day, early in the afternoon, a lot of guests arrived unexpectedly in Kaniz’s home. It turned out to be a very busy afternoon for both Kaniz and Faiza, as they fed and entertained the guests including preparing the
hookahs
, the smoke pipe for the two elder male relatives.
It was while she was making
chapattis
, flattened bread, in the kitchen, in the evening, that Faiza felt herself get wet between her thighs.
Her heart stood still. The
chapatti
in one hand remained poised in mid-air, while the other on the flat topped pan was almost burning. “Oh
Allah Pak
”, she moaned under her breath.
“This is not supposed to happen,” she thought. She was three months pregnant, therefore shouldn’t be menstruating. It could only be one thing! Her mind refused to register how her body was physically functioning.
Nobody else was in the kitchen. Leaving everything, she got up to go to the
ghusl khanah
, bathroom. As she walked, she felt her thighs getting wetter and wetter against her linen trousers,
shalwar
.
“Oh God help me”, she cried wildly to herself. To get to the bathroom, she had to cross the courtyard. Against the evening breeze, the guests, Kaniz Begum and her husband were sitting on cane chairs.
She kept a low profile as she crossed the courtyard, drawing her clothes around her body. She let her long linen shawl drape down to her ankles, in an attempt to cover the wetness of her
shalwar
.
In the bathroom, her hand trembled as she worked on the
pir
has said that you will have a son. How’s that?”
Faiza’s cheeks glowed with delight. Boys were always wanted, especially first time. It would be a great honour indeed to have a son.
“Now we have got this
perchanvah
of
hers
in the house. I’ll have to do something about it.” Her mother-in-law continued, as she moved briskly across her courtyard into the
bavarchikhanah
, kitchen. There she took out a pinch of red chilies from the container and returning to the courtyard called Faiza to stand in front of her. She ritually circled the air over Faiza’s head and shoulders with the chili powder still between her fingers.
Then she checked Faiza’s neck to see if she wore the amulet with some holy words written by the pir on it.
The amulet,
tweez
, around her neck was to ward off the evil eye.
“I think that from now on, I had better stay at home, all the time. I don’t trust
that
girl. If she sets a foot in our house again I’ll…”
“You’ll what Kaniz Bibi?” Her husband asked, returning from the mosque. He had heard what she’d said. “Nothing” Kaniz said defensively.
“You women! You were talking about Salma. Why can’t you stop victimising the poor girl? When will you women stop your superstitious ways and customs? Do you think that swirling chili powder over your daughter-in-law’s head will insure her good health? Huh”, he laughed.
Kaniz kept a tight rein on her anger, as she confronted her husband.
“You always find it so amusing, don’t you? You delight in belittling our beliefs, don’t you?”
“I find it utter nonsense. It is
shirk
, against the teaching of Islam and it is inhuman. How would you feel if Salma was your daughter, and somebody treated her, the way that you treat her?”
“Bah! You men! You don’t understand anything. Let me tell you what my
pir
has told me.” She smiled at him.
“What did your
pir
tell you this time, Kaniz Bibi?” He silkily asked, loathing the influence that the
pir
had over his wife and other women.
Kaniz looked at him gloatingly. “He said that we are going to have a grandson. He had a dream and a premonition.”
“Oh well, that’s great, if he said that. What will you do if it is a girl? Will you return it to him?” He chuckled.
Kaniz turned away from him exasperated. It always ended like this. He managed to nettle her, and she turned away from him, stronger in her beliefs than ever.
…ooo000ooo…
The next day, early in the afternoon, a lot of guests arrived unexpectedly in Kaniz’s home. It turned out to be a very busy afternoon for both Kaniz and Faiza, as they fed and entertained the guests including preparing the
hookahs
, the smoke pipe for the two elder male relatives.
It was while she was making
chapattis
, flattened bread, in the kitchen, in the evening, that Faiza felt herself get wet between her thighs.
Her heart stood still. The
chapatti
in one hand remained poised in mid-air, while the other on the flat topped pan was almost burning. “Oh
Allah Pak
”, she moaned under her breath.
“This is not supposed to happen,” she thought. She was three months pregnant, therefore shouldn’t be menstruating. It could only be one thing! Her mind refused to register how her body was physically functioning.
Nobody else was in the kitchen. Leaving everything, she got up to go to the
ghusl khanah
, bathroom. As she walked, she felt her thighs getting wetter and wetter against her linen trousers,
shalwar
.
“Oh God help me”, she cried wildly to herself. To get to the bathroom, she had to cross the courtyard. Against the evening breeze, the guests, Kaniz Begum and her husband were sitting on cane chairs.
She kept a low profile as she crossed the courtyard, drawing her clothes around her body. She let her long linen shawl drape down to her ankles, in an attempt to cover the wetness of her
shalwar
.
In the bathroom, her hand trembled as she worked on the
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