"Do not even think about leaving your husband ever", Many women's words echoed around her from years ago, "Pray for a death before him. May Allah never widow you. May you always remain a married woman in full bloom".
Sitting next to Arshad's corpse was the final ritual of her traumatic marriage. From the big event that was the discovery of his dead body by his mother to the second big event which was the family declining a postmortem, she had experienced a wide range of emotions. To her own dismay, she was now a certifiably bad woman according to the standards of all the women around her. She hadn't felt any sorrow or remorse.
They had both lived in a prison of small proportions. He had been a victim of the patriarchy too. She had been an upholder of it also. Then she had asked for equality. It was all downhill from there.
Love, affection, togetherness, partnership, camaraderie, a family unit had remained elusive. She had come to him with a fertile uterus and the promise of an heir. Once she produced an heir, more kids of any gender were also welcome. She had started out so good. How did it all go so wrong?
She looked at his best friend. The man who had looted her of time, love, dignity and some money too. He had finally given her a child. But not before he claimed a piece of her soul.
He looked sad. But she had always imagined that he'd die if Arshad died. They were joined at the hip for the time they were together. Nothing could separate them. They were like brothers or father and son. They were like two men in a sea of men who had found a soulmate in each other. It was nauseating to think that one of them was so much more loyal to the other. But it wasn't a surprise. Loyalty wasn't Adeel's strongest suit.
Hamza sat next to Adeel. He had lost the spotlight of being the bereaved spouse of a young woman. He looked relaxed, like he always did. His hair was immaculately done with a ton of styling gel in it. He was fashionably stubbled. His collar was undone like he was in a haste to be here and hadn't paid attention to minor details. It reeked of toxic masculinity. It reeked of the type of sexiness that women raised on Bollywood movies identify with. It was attractive and charismatic. It showed the abundance of chest hair that was a sign of his virility. It was perverse to Kausar. He should've shaved his chest hair after what he did to Rabia. He should've been made to part with his most treasured possession….his maleness.
Nasima sat next to Kausar. A solitary sob, suppressed by her pride at never losing control, escaped her throat every once in a while. Her mind was full of the image of that accursed room. Actually this house was cursed. People were dropping like flies here.
The son who was no more occupied her mind a lot these days. Nasima thought of him a lot. She had wanted a postmortem but Faraz declined any prospect of it. Arshad was his favorite son in many ways. His grief was without bounds. He howled when Arshad's death was pronounced. He centered himself like he always did. He rejected any steps that anyone proposed towards an investigation. "I will not let anyone desecrate his body", He growled at his friends and Arshad's brothers who suggested it, "Don't you dare touch him with that intention".
Everyone backed off. Like they always did. Even in his grief his entitlement was without qualification. It just was.
Nasima thought of the weight loss that had haunted both Rabia and Arshad before they died. Did he have some type of cancer too? She thought. Who knew what he was suffering from? He did look very sad the whole time he was there. Maybe he knew something. Maybe just like Kausar's pregnancy they hid news about his health also.
She had never been close to any of them, least of all Arshad. He had softened a little bit with time but he was truly Faraz's son if there was one. He was strict and without compromise. He was unpredictable. Amongst all his brothers, he was the most authoritative.
"My daughter widowed at such a young age", Asiya wailed again. "How unfortunate is she! Look at Rabia! She died a married woman. This one is going to die a widow! Why didn't you die Kausar? How will you live now? How will you? How will you live alone?"
She had zero time for Asiya's grief at a widowed daughter. What did she care? She didn't care about her own child. Did she think she could fool everyone into thinking that she cared about Arshad?
Kausar directed her attention back to Arshad's body. Surprisingly, his immensely large frame was somewhat shrunken today and looked much smaller. It was like he had slowly been dwindling into nothing. His cheeks were sunken, his eyelids were heavy, his chest was narrowed by death.
What did it mean for her if he was no more? She could go back to New Jersey and take over the business. Her imagination took off. She could become a wonderfully successful businesswoman. Arshad's legacy, so hard to respect in his lifetime, could become her final adieu to him. She would make him proud eventually.
Or did this mean that she had to stay here in Pakistan forever? She thought of the time she had fantasized about moving to the United States as the deliverance that she had waited for. It was short lived if her fate would bring her back to Pakistan. Seven years since she had been married. Seven long years! She had lived seven lives in these years. She had died a thousand deaths.
"Beti!" A woman she didn't recognize kneeled next to her, "Men shouldn't sit here while you are here. Your honor as a widow is important until the due period of mourning for you is over. Do you get your period regularly?"
Bewildered, she nodded.
"So you'll be in mourning for three months", The woman said sagely. Then she looked at Nasima and Asiya and asked, almost groveling at their approval, "Am I right, Baji?"
"Shut up and get lost", Nasima growled as Asiya cried louder. "How dare you ask Kausar stupid questions! Get the hell out of here!"
The woman visibly cowered and retreated into a corner.
Kausar resumed her vigil.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Rasheed among the mourners. He sat with a sad face, his overgrown beard making him look a hundred years old. She knew he was very close to Rabia. He was probably mourning her more than anyone else today.
Their eyes met. She stared at the man who was her father. He finally signaled for her to meet him outside the large living room.
She followed him. He stopped in the family room and sat on a seat. Kausar sat across from him.
"I'm sorry", He sighed, "Our family isn't getting time to recover".
She had never heard people deliver condolences in this robotic manner. It was unnerving. It also came with no responsibility to act like she was sad. She stared at a point above his head.
"He was very young", Rasheed began again, clearly just as uncomfortable as Kausar, "Did he have something? Like an illness?"
"He had perfect health", She said briefly, "Is there something important? I'd like to sit inside with him. They'll take him to the cemetery soon". Being with Rasheed was its own unique kind of torture.
"I just wanted to offer my condolences and wanted to extend a hand also. For the next however many days I'm here if you need me".
She got up and went back inside.
Arshad's departure was just as grand as his arrival probably was. He was a young man, in the prime of his life. Many people cried. She saw Adeel wiping his eyes repeatedly. Their eyes met. He looked like the old Adeel again. The man with the boyish charm and tempestuous disposition. He looked slightly less evil. Somehow, he almost looked human.
The next many days were a blur. She ate, fed the kids, slept, put the kids down. Besides that, time had lost all meaning.
According to the Muslim ritual, she had to remain home for a few months. This wasn't a problem at all. She had decided to complete this period of mourning at Arshad's parents' place. This place had felt more home than her own parents'.
Through all the darkness, her children became tiny rays of light that brought meaning to everything. She sometimes questioned the lack of any emotion for Arshad and how he had died. Did she not have any compassion left? Maybe not! Maybe it was hard for her to muster any for any man again.
"Aunty!" She called softly as Nasima lay in bed, her back to the door. Next to her bed was a picture of Rabia on her wedding day. There was no picture of Arshad.
"Look at her!" Nasima breathed, "What a gorgeous girl! You and your sister! Two of the most beautiful girls I've ever seen".
Kausar smiled as she sat next to the older woman.
"One more month until I can travel", She said gently, "Musa has missed a lot of school. My work won't wait forever. And Zehra and Noor need to be enrolled. Wanna come with us? I'll be so lonely. If you're there, I'll have so much more to look forward to".
Her heart tore at the young widow's lovely face. She had always thought that she had had the worst possible fate that a woman could have. She had a cheating husband who had fathered kids outside of this marriage also. But to think that Kausar had been dealt an even worse hand was tearing her insides. This young girl had had her whole life taken from her.
"I'd love to come with you", She hiccuped as tears choked her, "Did you talk to Hamza?"
"About what?" Kausar said carelessly, "He agreed to the adoption so of course knows that the kids would be coming with me".
"It's not that, Beti! Far be it from me to care about these cruel men more than I care about you or the kids but Hamza seems to get a lot of strength from the kids. He has been more involved than ever before. I know he won't object but you will have to ask him. Also, I don't want these kids to grow up without fathers. Amira and Musa can't help it. Their father can't be with them again but Noor and Zehra shouldn't be deprived of their father's presence. You might have to arrange some sort of visitation schedule".
Kausar sighed. The reverence that even seemingly strong women like Nasima had for men was too much to tolerate but she felt pity for Nasima. Poor woman! She couldn't even escape from this. She was trapped in here forever.
"I'm sure we'll talk about it before I leave", She smiled, "But right now you need to get up and get going. I'm cooking and can't figure out anything in that kitchen of yours".
They bustled around in the kitchen for hours. It was a nice distraction. So much had happened that making noise with pots and pans seemed like a proper sport that they could engage in without anyone raising an eyebrow at their bereavement ending sooner than it should have.
Rabia's death hadn't changed the voices around them. Arshad's had. Faraz had retreated into a solitude so unlike him that it scared everyone around him. He was a boisterous man who used human company as a way to keep busy and happy. Now he barely spoke.
Maybe Arshad's young death reminded his brothers of their own mortality too. Hamza had started to take more interest in the kids. He had started frequenting the mosque more. Silence had claimed him also. But he spent a lot of time with the kids whenever he was home. For a few hours everyday the kids ran around recklessly.
"When are you going back?" He asked at dinner one night.
"Soon", She swallowed her food. "A month more to go".
"Hmm", He picked at his food, "Adeel called today. He wanted to report to me about the business".
Adeel had gone back and tried to run things on his own. She knew him very well. He wasn't cut out for it.
"There's some bad news", Hamza said after a little hesitation.
More bad news? She wondered wildly. Adeel should've died and ended all the bad news.
"How much did you know about Arshad's business?"
She fidgeted with her utensils. It was one thing for everyone to know everything in Arshad's life. Adeel calling now could mean that there could be insurmountable trouble in her life.
"Not much", She said, "Adeel and Arshad ran it".
"He told me that the space they ran their office in was leased for a hefty monthly amount that hasn't been paid for in months. Their inventory has been close to full without anything being bought actually. This means that they were buying things on borrowed money".
"Oh!" She indeed had no idea that there was financial trouble.
"Adeel thinks", Hamza continued, "That it all went south just about five months ago. Something big happened, he said. He didn't tell me what. But he said that Arshad lost interest and therefore the entire thing went down. They're under a lot of debt now, it seems".
"If Arshad wasn't there for the business for those months", She said loudly, hatred at Adeel coursing through her veins, "Then why didn't Adeel pick up the slack? Or was he just there to have a good time?"
Hamza shook his head. He seemed to be restraining himself.
"I'm shocked", He finally said, "I agree with you. He calls himself Arshad's partner and actually called me to pay for the debt. But if Arshad wasn't there for a few months, for whatever reason, why didn't Adeel jump in?"
She remained quiet, her insides seething.
"Do you think we should have a conference call with Adeel and sort it out? Or maybe you and I can go together and see what this is all about?"
She was done.
"Let's get the books here so we can start looking at them", She said, more calmly than she felt, "And if the business is under debt then Adeel shouldn't be paid a salary. Please tell him that!"
Silence fell at the dinner table. Nasima looked at Kausar for a long time. She had suspected something many years ago. Arshad's death started making a lot of sense now. Kausar's indifference, so much like Arshad's own, became clearer now too.
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