Chapter 11 - Ch 3

‗This idiotic advice must be from Asjad—no one else can suggest such a

thing! Doesn't he realize that I am still studying?' Imama fumed at her sister

in law.

‗No, it wasn't Asjad or any of his family—it was Baba's idea,' she replied

with composure.

‗Baba's idea? I can't believe it! When I got admission in the medical

college, there was no such plan on the horizon. In fact, he used to tell

Uncle Azam that I would not be married till the completion of my house job.

What's overcome him now?' Imama was nonplussed.

‗There must be some pressure, but Ammi told me that Baba wants it this

way,' her sister in law explained.

‗Then tell them that I don't want to get married before I've done my

house job.'

‗Fine…I'll convey your message, but it's best that you talk to Baba

yourself,' she advised.

Her sister in law left the room, but Imama was very concerned. This

news was so sudden and unexpected that she was jolted by it—not just

figuratively but actually. She was hoping to complete her house job and

then start her practice: that would make her financially independent and

she could go ahead with her plan to marry Jalal who would also have

established himself by then. But this sudden business of her wedding—why

had it come up now?

‗Asjad's family have not made any requests; I have spoken to them

myself,' Hashim Mubeen calmly explained. Imama was in his room—she

was insistent to know what was going on.

‗You've already spoken to them—without even asking me, Baba? How

could you do that?' Imama couldn't believe it.

Her father looked at her seriously. ‗If you remember, Imama, this

marriage proposal had been accepted with your consent,' he said.

‗An engagement is something else…and marriage is different. You had

agreed that there would be no wedding before the house job,' she

reminded him.

‗Why do you have an objection to the wedding? Don't you like Asjad?'

‗It's not a question of liking or disliking him. I do not want to get married

in the middle of my studies. You know very well that I want to be an eye

specialist: if I get married now, then my plans, my dreams will never

materialize.'

‗Many girls continue with their education after getting married. We have examples in the family…' he tried to pacify her, but she interrupted.

‗Those girls must be very smart, very intelligent—I'm not. I can do just

one thing at a time.'

‗I've spoken to Azam Bhai and they are coming over to finalize the

dates.' Hashim Mubeen's tone was firm.

‗You are wasting all my efforts,' she protested. ‗If this is what you

wanted, then you shouldn't have made any promises.'

‗Things were different then; the situation is different now…'

She interrupted him again. ‗Why? What has changed now that you

should treat me so?'

‗I assure you that Asjad will cooperate fully in letting you complete your

education; he will not stop you in any way,' Hashim tried to reassure her.

‗Baba, it's not Asjad's cooperation but yours that I need,' she pleaded.

‗Please let me complete my studies.'

‗Imama, stop being obstinate…I am going to do what I have decided,' he

said firmly, ignoring her pleas. ‗You've been engaged for four years and

that's a long time. What if they decide to break off the engagement?'

‗Then let them do it. They can call it off now—why wait till tomorrow?

After all, it's not the end of the world!'

Hashim was shocked and angry. ‗Have you any idea what it means? The

humiliation…what will people say?'

‗What humiliation? It'll be their decision, not our fault. Nothing's going to

happen, believe me: tongues will wag for a few days and then it'll all be

forgotten. Baba, you are worrying unnecessarily,' she said with

nonchalance, trying to persuade her father.

‗You must be out of your mind…talking such nonsense. Now please

leave,' Hashim Mubeen said sharply, looking at her with disapproval.

Imama left, feeling wretched: she could hardly sleep that night. The next

day she went back to Lahore. Her father had not spoken to her again in this

regard, and she tried to put the matter out of her mind. She had to study for

the forthcoming exams.

Her father had not dismissed this conversation, though. He was a very

cautious person. He had become worried about Imama when the school

incident involving Tehreem had taken place. It was not so serious, but to

play safe he had Imama's betrothal to Asjad confirmed. He believed that

the development of a new relationship would divert Imama's thoughts from

her doubts about her faith; and he was right. Imama began to show more

interest in Asjad and also to participate in the religious activities of their

faith. But what Waseem had revealed to him shook his very being. He could not gauge to what extent Imama had explored Islam, but he could

see that there was a distinct change in her beliefs and views. This was a

cause of concern not just for him but for their entire family.

He wanted her to be well-educated like his older daughters, and more so

because she would be married into a family that prided itself on its

education; Asjad himself wanted Imama to be well-qualified. Hashim

Mubeen could not cut short Imama's studies till the wedding—much as he

wanted to—without having to explain the rationale behind such a decision.

He'd rather they did not know—they would find it hard to accept Imama's

doubts and queries about their faith and her married life with Asjad would

be unhappy.

On one hand, he strictly forbade his family members from any discussion

on this topic and, on the other, he pleaded with Imama to let good sense

prevail.

Imama was so careful about her presence at Sabiha's lectures and her

meetings with Jalal that these matters did not come to the notice of her

family. Secrecy could be maintained also because Imama had also kept

Javeria and Rabia in the dark; otherwise rumors would have floated around

and reached Hashim Mubeen's ears. He was satisfied on that score, but

the subtle change in Imama's attitude bothered him and the only solution

that he could come up with was to marry her off. He thought it would relieve

him of her responsibility, so he took this abrupt decision.

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‗Jalal, my parents have decided on my wedding…to Asjad,' she

revealed. He was the first person she met when she got back to Lahore.

‗But they were going to let you finish your house job.'

‗That's what they'd said but now they say I can complete my studies after

marriage. Asjad will find a place to live in Lahore so that I can study.' Jalal

could fathom her distress by looking at her. ‗There's no way that I can

marry Asjad.'

‗Then come clean with them, Imama—tell them you want to marry me,

not Asjad,' he said decisively.

‗You have no idea how they'll react…I'll have to tell them everything.'

She thought for a moment and said, ‗Jalal, ask your parents to talk to mine.

Tell them about me. If my parents pressurize me, I'll have to leave home

and I'll need your help.'

Jalal agreed; he reassured her that they would understand and accept

his decision. For the first time, a faint smile arose on her face. She was

busy with the examinations for the next few weeks and did not have the

chance to meet Jalal. The day the examinations ended Waseem turned up in Lahore to take her home. He had caught her by surprise.

‗Waseem, I can't go home today. My papers have just finished and I

have some work to wind up,' she said.

‗I'm here till tomorrow; I'm staying with a friend, so you can do whatever

you have to and then come along,' he replied, closing her last option.

Imama agreed half-heartedly.

‗You'd better pack up all your stuff,' he called as he was leaving. ‗You'll

be spending all the holidays at home.'

She nodded, but she had no intention of packing all her belongings or of

spending the entire vacations in Islamabad. She planned to return to

Lahore after a few days—but she was mistaken.

She was with her family around the dinner table when her father asked,

‗How did your papers go?'

‗Very well, as usual,' she replied, helping herself to some rice.

‗Good! At least there's no more tension about exams. Now you can start

your shopping tomorrow,' he said.

Imama was startled. ‗What shopping?'

‗First go to the jewelers and then for furniture. The rest of the

preparations can follow at your pace.' Instead of replying to Imama's

question, Hashim Mubeen addressed his wife.

‗But why, Baba?' Imama asked again.

‗Didn't your mother tell you that we have fixed the wedding date?'

The spoon in her hand fell onto her plate and the color drained from her

face. ‗My wedding?' She looked at her parents uncertainly; they could not

grasp the situation.

‗How can you do this…without asking me?' She stared wildly.

‗We spoke to you about this the last time you were here,' Hashim

Mubeen's tone was somber.

‗I had refused. I…'

‗I do not care about your refusal. I have already discussed this with

Asjad's family,' he angrily rebuked her.

There was silence at the table as they ceased to eat. Imama stood up

suddenly. ‗I'm sorry Baba, I can't marry Asjad now. You fixed the wedding

date so you'll have to tell them to postpone it. Or else. I'll talk to them

myself.'

Hashim Mubeen was about to explode with fury.

‗You'll marry Asjad and on the day I have decided,' he shouted.

‗It's not fair!' Imama was almost in tears.

‗So now you're going to tell me what's fair and what's not—is that so?'

He was furious. ‗Why are you forcing me when I'd told you I don't want to get married

now?' Imama was crying.

‗Because I have the right to do so!' He screamed at her. She did not

reply. Clenching his teeth and blazing with anger, he walked out of the

room.

‗Please sit down and have your dinner,' Salma Mubeen went after

Hashim. ‗I'll talk to her. Don't get so worked up—she's just being

emotional.'

As soon as her mother left the room, Imama turned on Waseem. ‗Get

out! Get away from here!' she screamed, shoving him away.

‗Why? What have I done?' He moved back.

‗You lied and brought me here by deceit. If I'd known about this in

Lahore, I'd never have come back with you to Islamabad.'

‗I did what Baba told me to—he forbade me to tell you why you were

coming home. I was just following his orders,' Waseem tried to clear

himself.

‗Then go and sit with him—what business do you have here?' Imama

could hardly contain her temper. Waseem left without saying a word.

After coming into her room Imama sat down on her bed—the earth had

shifted beneath her feet. She had never imagined her family could do this

to her, be so rigidly conservative in their views. She still could not believe

this was happening to her: her heart began to sink. ‗I have to face this

situation; I cannot give up. I must contact Jalal somehow, as soon as

possible; he must have spoken to his parents. I'll find some way out by

talking it over with him,' she thought as she restlessly paced her room.

After midnight she came out to call Jalal. She knew her parents and

siblings would have retired for the night. She dialed Jalal's number: the

phone kept ringing without response. She tried several times for the next

half hour but to no avail. She couldn't call Javeria or Rabia as they were in

the hostel. Then, Imama tried Sabiha's number. Her father answered and

told her that Sabiha had gone to Peshawar with her mother for a family

wedding; he said he'd be leaving the next day.

‗Peshawar?' Imama became tense.

‗If there's a message for Sabiha, I can tell her,' he offered.

‗No, thank you, Uncle,' she said softly. What could she possibly tell

him—she hung up. Her heart plunged into despair at the thought of not

being able to contact Jalal. She dialed his number again, but someone took

the receiver away from her—it was her father.

‗Who are you calling?' His tone was very composed.

‗A friend,' she replied, without looking at him. She could not look him in

the eye and lie.

‗Ill dial the number for you,' he said and pressing the ‗Redial' key, held

the receiver to his ear. Imama paled as she watched him. He put the

receiver back after a while: obviously, there was no response.

‗Who's this friend that you were calling at this hour?' he asked sternly.

‗Zainab,' she said, as it was Zainab's number on the CLI window. She

did not want her father to have any doubts about Zainab that would lead

him to Jalal.

‗What for?'

‗I had to give her a message for Javeria,' she said with some hesitation.

‗Tell me what it is, I'll deliver the message personally. Imama, tell me

honestly, are you interested in someone else?' he asked without any fuss.

She looked at him for a while, then said, ‗Yes.'

Hashim Mubeen was stunned. He repeated his words and Imama

nodded in acceptance. Impulsively, he slapped her across her face. ‗That's

just what I feared.'

Imama, lost in thought, her hand still on her cheek, looked at him. It was

the first time in her life that he had hit her, his favorite child—she could not

believe it. Tears began to roll down her cheeks.

‗You will not be allowed to marry anyone else except Asjad. Even if you

are interested in someone else, you have to forget him...Now! Never,

never, never, will I let you get married anywhere else! Now get back to your

room, and if I see you near the telephone again, I'll break your legs!' He

was trembling with rage.

She returned to her room without a word and flinging herself on her bed,

burst into tears. She could not get over her father's violent reaction. After

crying a long time, she got up and, mindlessly, began to look out of the

sealed glass window panes. Beneath was the garden of her own home and

its lawns. Her glance fell across the wall at Salar's house. His room was on

the ground floor; she could see some movement there and gauged that it

must be Salar.

It hit her like a flash! He could help her—if she confided in him and got

him to contact Jalal, her problem could be solved. But how was she to get

in touch with him. She concentrated and recalled his mobile number

painted across the rear screen of his car. She repeated it and scribbled it

on a piece of paper for reference. Then at three in the morning, she tiptoed

down to the lounge and called Salar.

Salar was asleep when his cell phone began to beep. As the tone

continued, he woke up and groped around his bedside table with

considerable annoyance. ‗Hello,' he said drowsily. Imama recognized his voice. ‗Hello?' he said

again.

‗Salar, it's me, Imama' she said.

He was about to say ‗Imama who?' but he sat up with a jolt. Along with

the name, he recognized the voice too.

‗I'm Waseem's sister.'

‗I know.' He switched on the lamp and reached for his watch. It was ten

past three. There was silence at the other end of the line. ‗Hello,' he said

again.

‗Salar, I need your help.' He frowned, trying to understand. ‗I saved your

life once and I want you to save my life now.' He listened to her. ‗I need to

contact someone in Lahore, but I can't.'

‗Why?'

‗Because no one's picking up the phone.'

‗At this time, you want…'

She interrupted, ‗Please just hear me out. I can't call during the day and

perhaps not even tomorrow night—I'm not allowed to… I want you to note

this number and address and to contact Jalal Ansar. Ask him if he has

spoken to his parents, and if so, what their response is; and tell him that my

parents have fixed my wedding date and will not let me leave Lahore until I

get married.'

This was interesting: Salar sat up in bed, pulling his blanket over his

knees, and listened to Imama dictating the telephone number and address.

He did not write it down—he didn't need to.

‗And what if I get no response either?' he asked.

‗Then please go to Lahore and meet him.' She was pleading now. ‗This

is very important for me.'

‗If he should ask me how I come into the picture…'

‗Tell him whatever you want—that doesn't interest me. I just want out of

this mess.'

‗Wouldn't it be better for you to talk to him?' Salar said.

‗I've told you that he's not answering the call now, and I may not get

another chance to call him,' she replied. Salar was silent and she hung up,

feeling hopeless.

Salar switched off his phone and tried to piece the jigsaw together:

Imama Hashim…Jalal Ansar…contact…talk to parents…forced marriage.

He hadn't asked Imama, but was trying to figure out her relationship with

Jalal. It was interesting that a girl like Imama should be involved in such an

affair—and that despite her aversion for Salar, she should be seeking his

help. ‗What's this female trying to do? Use me or frame me?' he wondered. He

lay back and tried to sleep, but could not. He had known Waseem and his

family for some years now and had also seen Imama fleetingly, but had

never really looked at her. He really didn't know much about her.

Compared to his own family, Waseem's family was quite old-fashioned so

he could not visit them as freely as he went to other friends' homes. It did

not bother him as he felt that people have their own traditions, but he had

some idea of Imama's moods and temperament. However, Imama's call

had shocked him and he tossed about restlessly.

‗To hell with Imama and the rest,' he muttered as he pulled his pillow

over his head in an effort to get back to sleep.

Imama returned to her room and sat down. She could feel knots in her

stomach—her life had been overturned in a few hours. She hadn't slept all

night. She did not come out for breakfast—her appetite had vanished.

Around ten thirty, she heard cars start and drive out of the porch. Her

father and older brother must have left for their office—she was waiting for

them to leave. She emerged from her room half an hour after Hashim

Mubeen's departure. Her mother and sister-in-law were in the lounge.

Imama reached for the phone, but her mother called out.

‗Your father has said that you are not to use the phone.'

‗I'm calling Asjad.' Imama looked at her mother who asked her why. ‗I

want to talk to him.'

‗And tell him the same rubbish you were talking last night?' her mother

retorted.

‗I am speaking to him in your presence...let me speak. If I say anything

improper, you can cut off the call.' Imama's voice was steady and calm. Her

composure seemed to reassure her mother.

Imama dialed but it was not Asjad's number: the person who received

the call was Jalal. A current of joy raced through Imama.

‗Hello, this is Imama,' she said confidently, without naming Asjad.

‗Why did you leave for Islamabad without telling me? I went to the hostel

to meet you,' said Jalal.

‗I came to Islamabad yesterday, Asjad,' she continued.

‗Asjad? Who are you talking to?' Jalal was surprised.

‗Baba told me last night that the wedding date has been fixed.'

It was as if a bolt of lightning had hit Jalal. ‗Wedding date?' he muttered,

but she continued to speak calmly. ‗I want to know if you've spoken to your

parents. I do not want to marry anyone other than you, so talk to them and

let me know.'

‗I could not…' It suddenly dawned on Jalal that someone was around

Imama—that was the reason for her calling him Asjad. ‗I'll talk to them.

When will you call me?'

‗You tell me when.'

‗Call tomorrow. What date has been set for the wedding?' There was

concern in his voice.

She was not aware of the schedule, but he reassured her that he would

sort out the matter with his parents. Imama thanked him and said goodbye.

She was relieved that neither her mother nor her sister-in-law had

suspected that she was speaking to someone other than Asjad.

‗This wedding has been arranged by your father and Azam Bhai, and

they're not going to postpone it for you or Asjad,' her mother said in a more

relaxed tone.

‗Ammi, I'm just going down to the market—I have to get some things for

myself,' Imama said instead of responding to her mother.

‗It's one thing to allow you to use the telephone, but you are not to go out

of the house. Your father has warned me and the chowkidar too not to let

you out.'

‗Ammi, why are you people treating me this way? I haven't refused

marriage—I'm only asking to be allowed to complete my house job.' Imama

sat down helplessly.

‗I fail to understand why you are delaying the wedding—the date has

been brought forward but this match isn't against your will.' Imama's sister-

in-law tried to reason with her. ‗The whole house has been plunged into

tension since last night just because of you. You surprise me, Imama—you

were never so stubborn. What's come over you? Something has happened

ever since you've been to Lahore…'

‗And our wishes will make no difference, let me tell you. Your father has

made up his mind,' her mother added.

‗But at least you could have tried to reason with him,' protested Imama.

‗Why? I'd have spoken up if there was something to object to—but that

was not the case,' her mother replied. Fuming, Imama returned to her

room.

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