Tunnel Vision (41 page)

I wanted a good long sleep. I knew my chances of being able to do that after (if) I recovered consciousness were slim, so I decided to take a nap. Maybe things would seem clearer when I woke up.

AAP JAISA KOI MERI ZINDAGI MAIN AYAY TO
BAAT BAN JAYAY

LYRICS OF NAZIA HASSAN
‘
SUPERHIT
'
SONG

~

I
was dreaming of piping hot pakoras; the very best thing of all about Ramadan once you grew too old to be able to extort Eidi from people. A particularly scrumptious looking specimen, steam rising from its tender brown flesh, a hint of onion peeping coyly from one green shaded slash, was hovering in mid-air in front of me whispering Ayesha, eat me Ayesha …

This couldn
'
t be right.

I could hear my mother yelling,
‘
Ayesha, Ayesha.
'
She would never leave me alone. Especially not now that Adil was showing signs of wanting to cast off the apron strings.

‘
I
'
m sorry,
'
Ammi turned to the woman with her,
‘
she
'
s never been very good at listening to her mother.
'

The other woman tried to smile politely, but she looked distinctly uncomfortable and not a little alarmed. There was something vaguely familiar about her, but I just couldn
'
t place her. A neighbour perhaps? She looked too swanky to live on our street though. Her black abaya and hijab was obviously of the finest silk, and her fingers were festooned with diamonds. There was a silk scarf tossed casually over one shoulder and two gaudy baubles that on closer examination turned out to be her eyes. She could be a rich Arab woman from a milk commercial fallen straight into my room via the TV set (I knew anything was possible after the little trip I
'
d had earlier). Or she could be one of those evangelical begums , the type that rose like well shod phoenixes from the ashes of 9/11 determined to turn from the flames to the light, doing one of those
‘
comfort the sick
'
rounds. They did things like that, in between abdicating all personal responsibility for pursuing and developing thought to their glorious, laptop equipped leaders.

‘
Can she hear you?
'
the woman asked Ammi in a clipped, precise tone. The words maintained a respectful distance from each other. That kind of elocution could only be the product of an expensive schooling. Had it been her son driving the car that had caused my accident? Had she come to apologize for the fender bender?
‘
So sorry but the silver casing on his phone reflected sunlight into his eyes and temporarily blinded him. As a token of our regret, perhaps you
'
d like to have it?
'
Actually, I did. I
'
d never had a mobile phone, hated them because they tied you down, but maybe it was time I accepted some sort of intimacy in my life.

‘
Your son has been a big help,
'
Ammi said, and the coffee party Aunty nodded. A knot grew in my stomach.

‘
Saad has always been a source of pride to us,
'
she said smugly and all the flippancy left in my system decided to precede me to the afterlife.

TAHJUB HAI KAI TUM KO NAMAZ KI
FURSAT NAHIN

TAXI

~

T
his was Saad
'
s mother? This was Saad
'
s mother come to meet me in a coma? This was Saad
'
s idea of an opportune time? This was Saad
'
s idea of me at my best? Voiceless and immobilized? Saad wanted his mother to meet me before I died? How touching! How touched in the head!

Note to aliens planning Pakistan landing. Correct thing to say to local emissary delegated to meet the spiky green mother ship,
‘
Take me to your mother.
'
Yes, we were a patriarchal society, yes we were a sexist society, but when it came to sons and their lovers, it tended to be all about Mommy. Perhaps to make up for their lack of power where anything else was concerned, mothers were allowed open season on the children
'
s significant others.

It wasn
'
t surprising; what else could you expect from a culture where breastfeeding sometimes became a hobby? But in 2004, it just wasn
'
t cutting it anymore. The Karachi potential/actual daughter-in-law was leaner and meaner than her docile predecessors. She was more educated, more streetwise, more aware of her rights, and often bigger too (better diet, more exercise will do that for you).

That
'
s right, I told myself, you have no reason to be nervous.

It was ironic that most men now wanted women who were highly educated, doctors, MBAs, journalists, but in the background the boy
'
s mother would be feverishly hoping the education hadn
'
t leaked into bahu dear
'
s brain. Maybe Saad
'
s mother wasn
'
t like that, they were super rich after all. The super rich had their own code.You only got to know what it was if you were super rich too.

That
'
s right, I didn
'
t have to be nervous at all.

But maybe she was like that. And if she wasn
'
t now, she might be once Saad began putting another woman first. If he would put me first, of course. Maybe he wouldn
'
t. Maybe he would put us both next to each other on a pedestal somewhere. I was getting ahead of myself here, she had probably just come to wish me a happy death day anyway.

‘
Really? How surprising.
'

‘
What do you mean?
'
Aunty looked affronted. Even I was intrigued.

‘
He
'
s been showing my daughter around for three years now, and he
'
s never once come to meet me, seek my blessings, even simply say salaam.
'

‘
Three years?
'
Aunty was choking on that nasty little nugget of time,
‘
three years?
'

‘
You mean you didn
'
t know?
'

‘
I only just found out about it. I mean I suspected there was someone but he never talked to me about her.
'

‘
And it seems he hasn
'
t even told his own mother, maybe you should be revising your opinion of your son.
'

‘
Maybe I should.
'

‘
Taking advantage of an innocent girl like my Ayesha.
'

‘
How old is your daughter?
'

‘
Around thirty.
'

I chuckled.
‘
Around
'
steered clear of the dangerous under or over label.

‘
And she
'
s been working at our company for a few years now?
'

‘
Yes she has, and we
'
re very proud of her.
'

This was hysterical.

‘
That
'
s a lot of work experience …
'

‘
I don
'
t like what you
'
re implying.
'

‘
I don
'
t like what you implied about my son.
'

‘
Let us simply agree to disagree then,
'
Ammi retreated to the safety of the moral high ground, a territory as familiar to her as the back of her hand.

There was an awkward silence for a while, then mother of Saad spoke,
‘
Your daughter is very attractive.
'

Ammi snorted. It could have meant anything, embarrassment at praise of her genes, muted disagreement or contempt for the speaker,
‘
She looks even better without the tube in her nose.
'

‘
Does she look like you or her father?
'
her attempt to mine Ammi for information was sadly transparent.

‘
What do you think?
'
Ammi
'
s tone was neutral.

‘
I can
'
t tell, she looks a little like you, but I
'
ve not seen her father.
'

‘
I haven
'
t seen him for years either. He passed away when she was just a kid.
'

I had been seventeen, hardly a child, but then parents always saw their children as, well, children.

‘
I
'
m so sorry.
'

‘
Thank you.
'

There was some more quiet time. Aunty studied the rings on her fingers. Ammi studied the rings on Aunty
'
s fingers.

‘
That
'
s why she had to start working so early,
'
Ammi finally volunteered,
‘
I couldn
'
t shoulder the burden, and there is a younger child too, a young brother, so she stepped in.
'

‘
Mashallah.
'

‘
She never complained. She still doesn
'
t, you know. She
'
s not the complaining type.
'
There was a knot forming in my astral throat. Ammi changed like the seasons, only faster. Sometimes winter repeated itself incessantly. But how I loved the gentle breezes of this Indian summer.

‘
That
'
s a good quality. I think people like us have little to complain about.
'

Ammi let the
‘
people like us
'
comment go.

‘
One of many. She has many good qualities.
'

‘
I
'
m sure.
'

‘
Hardworking, patient, honest. You name it, she
'
s got it.
'

‘
Respectful to her elders?
'

‘
I wouldn
'
t raise my children any other way.
'

‘
I
'
m glad we agree. Children are a reflection of their parents.
'

‘
Of course they are.
'

‘
That
'
s why I was asking earlier what her father did.
'

‘
I understand. He was a government employee.
'

‘
And where do you come from originally?
'

‘
Hyderabad. Bihar.
'

‘
Really?
'
Aunty smiled,
‘
my mother
'
s family is from there.
'

Ammi looked pleased,
‘
Yes that
'
s where her father and I met in fact, at college. My late father was a highly respected intellectual, a professor.
'

‘
Mashallah.
'

‘
A very learned man.
'

‘
And Ayesha
'
s father?
'

‘
Also a highly educated man, albeit of a more practical bent,
'
Ammi was being charitable.

‘
It takes all sorts to make a world, one can
'
t say this philosophy is better than that one.
'

‘
No, one can
'
t.
'

‘
As long as she is of a religious bent …
'

My mother wisely said nothing.

The silence this time was markedly free of tension, nervousness yes, but for now the claws had been voluntarily retracted. I hoped it stayed that way for at least another minute; it was nice to see my mother appear at ease even if she was only pretending. And I wanted time to savour the implications of Saad
'
s mother
'
s presence here. He must have finally told her about me, about us, about our future together.

But no. Aunty was speaking again.
‘
Mrs Siddiqui, I don
'
t want to talk to you under false pretenses. My son didn
'
t bring me here.
'

‘
I don
'
t understand.
'

‘
Saad doesn
'
t even know I
'
m here. He called a dear friend of ours to attend to your daughter personally, and Dr Shafiq told me how emotional he was, how concerned, and I just had to come and see for myself.
'

‘
I see,
'
Ammi
'
s tone was heading for the Arctic again, but her disappointment could not compare with mine.
‘
Why don
'
t we talk some more outside? Visiting hours are almost over and they
'
re very strict about not allowing more than one attendant in at a time.
'