It seemed like everything about Rabia's wedding was as different from her own as it could possibly be.
She had never experienced this side of Nasima when she met with her as Arshad's fiancé. For Rabia, Nasima was different. And so was Asiya! It seemed that everyone was so sympathetic towards Rabia's late blossoming that they made extra penance for her spinsterhood.
Nasima called Rabia frequently. They discussed wedding preparations, outfits for the big events, themes for various rituals and so on. She couldn't recall any of this happening for her own wedding.
Would I have been this bitter towards Appa if Arshad was nicer to me? She would ask herself constantly. Maybe if I got Hamza, things would've been different for me too.
Even Arshad was on a different wavelength than his usual stiff and abrupt manner. Nasima asked him to leave his laptop home because they needed to Skype many details about clothes and jewelry. He didn't say a word in opposition. In fact, he was positively beaming to help in anyway.
Adeel disappeared. Sometimes she missed him. Sometimes the sadness of not having a friend consumed her. Sometimes she had guilt at what had happened. He had confessed his love for her. And she had walked away. For what? And to where?
She had never had any relationships before Arshad came into her life. She had saved her feelings for the man who'd someday become her husband. It had seemed the good thing to do. Maybe even the right thing to do! But now she craved to get back that time and have a fling. Something to get the yearning that she had for true love out of her system. Maybe if she just had had a wholesome relationship with another man, Arshad's distance from her would've been easy to take.
She faded into the background. Like she had most of her life. She blended perfectly in the new chaos that Rabia's wedding brought with it. She was the bride's sister and also, her sister-in-law. This was a majestic station to enjoy. She hated it.
"Kausar!" Nasima called her, beckoning her to see something on the laptop. She knew what it was and could tell that the storm that she kept so confined in herself could break through if they pushed her. Happiness didn't make her happy.
"Look at this!" Nasima showed her a bridal outfit excitedly, draped around Rabia. It was a picture from a bridal boutique. Asiya, Rabia and Bushra were standing around a counter while men pinned a festive red gharara to Rabia. She had never seen anyone as beautiful as her Appa ever. Now the same face repulsed her.
"It's beautiful", She said, forcing a smile.
"Not just beautiful", Nasima admonished her lovingly, "It's gorgeous. And so is my daughter-in-law. Ah, Kausar! This was a dream that finally materialized. I can't thank Allah enough".
No one had ever wanted her like people had wanted Rabia. Ami, Abba, Nasima Aunty, even Arshad, they all liked Rabia. Saira didn't count. She was so high on the pedestal that Asiya had built underneath her that mere mortals like the people of this family or any other didn't matter to her.
She had never thought Rabia would become the usurper of her status in Arshad's family. It was true that it would've been stupid to imagine that his brothers wouldn't ever get married but why Rabia? Why couldn't she have her own family? Why was Rabia or anyone from her past here too?
"You don't look happy", Nasima observed, "Is everything okay? Your Adeel Bhai isn't giving you driving lessons anymore".
"I can take the road test now", She said quietly, "I don't need him".
Nasima knew this was going to be an ever-occurring theme of Kausar's marriage. Arshad was so morbidly like his father that it wasn't hard to tell how Kausar felt.
"I'll take you with me to Pakistan", Nasima tried to start a conversation again, "For Rabia's wedding. You need some rest".
She smiled sadly again.
"What's going on, Kausar?" Nasima was worried, "You look like you might cry. Did you and Arshad have a fight?"
What does she call a fight? She stared at Nasima. Arshad and I are embroiled in a battle of who stays sane longer. And I know he'll make out great. Just like in all other things he does. I'll be stranded like always or better, dead!
But there were more pressing matters. If this was what the famed institution of marriage was, then she needed to learn more about why there was an inequality here that had cut her to the core.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Go ahead!"
"I don't remember you being so psyched about my wedding to Arshad", She said seriously.
Nasima was dumbfounded. It was true. She hadn't been excited. But not because she didn't like Kausar but because the idea of her patriarchal sons marrying innocent women reeked of dishonesty and deceit. She was complicit in bringing this tragedy to Kausar. She was just as aware of it then as she was now.
She had similar feelings for Rabia. Willfully she would've never proposed to Rabia for one of her sons. But first Arshad and then Hamza chose Rabia. Then Arshad wanted someone younger so Kausar was sacrificed at the altar of a man's whim. But she hadn't orchestrated any of it. Sometimes her conscience was lightened by the knowledge that she hadn't initiated it all.
"You never asked me to pick out my wedding outfits or anything. I was never called by you for these things. Do you remember?"
She cleared her throat. With time, speaking the truth at the expense of being disliked had become a habit.
"I remember".
"Why, Aunty?"
"I can't answer that", Nasima said. The whole truth, she realized in that moment, can still be hard to speak.
"I think I can", Kausar said, her young mind always connecting the dots that led her to here. "I think everyone thought I was stupid. You all supposed that I was so far gone that I couldn't even pick an outfit for myself. Look at Appa!" She pointed to the picture on the laptop, "She is getting married happily. I don't remember any such feeling. In fact, merely a few days before my wedding Ami insulted me and cast aspersions at me because I wanted to go on an educational field trip".
Nasima was quiet. What's the adage? Children never lie.
"I've been thinking about it all, Aunty!" She spoke like in a dream, "My marriage is a sham. I have a son who gets neglected because I get neglected. I'm an unwanted wife and everything that comes from me is therefore, unwanted. I'm learning things fast. Arshad should've met me before I got married to him. I would've never been shocked by what life can bring to us. He would've shown me all these horrors before our wedding".
"Beti!" Her lips trembled, "We are your perpetrators. May Allah forgive us all".
She got up. Allah had left her too, it seemed.
"How can Allah forgive you? You have sinned. Against a girl who had never wronged you. The sin that your family committed against me is only compounded by the fact that you are celebrating my sister in epic proportions. You want me to come to Pakistan for Appa's wedding? But do you think I enjoy any aspect of matrimony? I don't. When I see women unhappy, I'm sad. And when I see them happy, I'm depressed. You all ruined me for me, Aunty! May Allah never forgive you".
Nasima left sooner than she had thought she would. Hamza's insistence at having the wedding in the ensuing six months and her own distress at the occupants of this home fueled the process. Arshad weakly insisted for her to stay. Kausar didn't endeavor to do that even. She had lost her faith in Nasima too, it was clear. She had broke up with another woman, Nasima could tell.
"Come to the airport with me", She had tried to coax her into it by spewing some guilt.
She was changing Musa's clothes.
"I'll come with you".
It was so unexpected that Nasima didn't know what to say.
Nasima took the flight from one of the largest airports in the United States. They traveled to New York, Nasima keeping up a lively stream of conversation. The silence had started to scare her.
They got off at the airport. Arshad went to look for a cart as Kausar wrangled Musa. He had started to say Dadi and it was the most endearing thing ever.
"I'll miss you so much", Nasima kissed the little boy repeatedly. "Your Ami is so heartless. She could've come with us but wants to torment me".
Kausar smiled. In the last few weeks her smile had taken on a melancholic shade that made her look like she had either just finished crying or was going to cry.
"You'll come for the wedding, Kausar, won't you?"
"I will, Aunty!" She assured her.
"And you'll call me?"
"Yes".
"Beti!" Nasima started to cry.
Kausar was stoic. Nothing touched her anymore. Tears, laughter, a child taking his first steps, Arshad showing a rare streak of love and kindness, nothing mattered anymore. The nothingness that had filled her soul couldn't be tempted to empty its quarters now. It had become permanent.
Arshad returned.
"Ami! Why are you crying? We are coming in just a little over two months".
"I know", She sniffed, "I'll miss Kausar and Musa".
"I'll send them sooner", He comforted her.
They hugged each other one last time before Nasima left. Kausar remembered a time just a few months ago when this embrace had meant so much to her. Now Nasima had become a stranger too. Kausar was not number one for Nasima either. She wasn't number one for anyone. It stung and then the sting abated. Then feelings went into hibernation again.
Nasima walked towards the immigration counter. She turned around. Kausar's big brown eyes were fixed on her but she looked like she was staring into oblivion. She was a very tall girl and it was hard to ignore her in a room full of people. There was a majesty around her that was rare for women to have. Most women that Nasima knew had softer postures and gentle statures. Kausar was an original and a rarity. She walked with her shoulders thrown back and had a regality to herself. Even in the way she took care of Musa, there were imperial undertones of a stern mother. She wasn't a weak woman. But Arshad had broken her.
She took one last look at the woman who had come so close to becoming a daughter. Kausar's eyes met hers briefly. She didn't smile. She stared at her with a face so devoid of expression, it could've been of a dead woman.
Suddenly she waved. Nasima smiled. And then Kausar blended in the crowd.
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