Even though physical pain was much less than the fear of life slowly dwindling, it was a lot. She writhed in pain as it came in quick bouts, leaving her breathless. Pain medicines helped but they also caused a type of stupor that left her dazed for days. Her time was limited, she knew. Trading pain for time with family wasn't ever going to be an option, this had become a conviction.
And yet, most days she lay in bed peacefully, her pain medications potently working their magic. Guess in the battle of love and peace, peace won again.
Sometimes she thought about the life she had never had. There weren't any highlights to run through except the two kids who called her their mother. Noor was borne of a turmoil that had shaken her soul. Zehra was borne of another turmoil that had finally laid out everything in stark clarity.
Nothing had been a happy time except the first few months of her marriage. Hamza was attentive, a great lover in bed, a partner who was as passionate as he was good looking. Slowly she got old. Slowly he got bored.
Why do I want to live anymore anyway? In moments of dire desperation she'd reason with herself. I didn't have a good life. Death might be good. Or at least better. My kids will be raised by more competent mothers. Ami and Aunty will be so much better than I ever was as their mother. They'll care for them how kids should be cared for. I was always hopelessly chasing a pipe dream of marital bliss. They were neglected. Ami and Aunty won't care where Hamza spends his days and nights. They won't have to worry about the number of women that call my husband their own. They'd have better focus and dedication to the kids. Overall, the kids might do better eventually.
Saira and Bushra visited frequently. Her heart filled with love for them when they sat by her bed, mindlessly chatting about mundane gossip that Rabia had never really loved anyway. Now it seemed like it was imperative to listen to all the gossip before death came. It gave her a chance to really see how her sisters' had a different timber to their voices. Even though sisters, they were all so different. Maybe this was why they had all chosen to live life so differently.
She could tell that Bushra was happy. Or as happy as any woman could be in a marriage. She liked her husband and even though she lived with her in-laws, there was minimal resentment between parties , if any. Saira's husband, awakened by Rabia's harsh fate, had started to spend more time at home. He had become more attentive to her, Saira said, and doted on the kids now. Life's cruel cruelty had finally registered with him.
Glad it's at my cost, Rabia thought as Saira told her about Sarim and the changes that had occurred since Rabia's terminal diagnosis had come to light. Maybe Kausar benefitted in some way too. How would I know? She never calls.
Asiya spent almost all her time with Rabia now. Her eyes looked vacant and distant. Her skin had become thin and wavy. Something in her face had given way to a lot of loose skin. She appeared haggard. Sometimes, she looked dead. Rabia thought of how Asiya had been happy for exactly a few months before tragedy had hit her again. Life was never over being mean to a woman.
"How're you feeling?" Hamza was sitting by her, stroking her hair. This was his morning ritual. He came for five or ten minutes and put on a concerned husband act of epic proportions. Then he would disappear until the next morning.
She felt repulsed by him. Sometimes she pitied him. Mostly, she mocked him.
"I'm okay", She propped herself on the pillows. The cancer had contained itself in her belly but because of its size, it hurt like a mountain was slowly breaking inside of her.
"You should eat, Rabi!" His beautiful face was clouded with worry, "Ami says you don't eat".
"I miss meals", She corrected him gently, "Because after I take my medicines in the morning, I become very groggy to stay awake. I have to sleep then".
He nodded like a dutiful child.
"Long day today?" She asked conversationally.
"Yes", He pulled a face, "Very long. Actually", He hesitated but plunged forward, "I might have to go out of Karachi for a week".
She wasn't surprised but was irked. His insensitivity never gave way to responsibility or any sense of duty.
"Out of Karachi? Wow! Business seems to be booming".
"What can I say?" He was thick in how he could never get sarcasm, "My charm works with everyone".
"It's for the best actually", She said as her insides seethed at wasting her short life on this imbecile, "I might die while you're away and I don't want you to come near me ever again. You shouldn't be a part of my funeral at all. Now that you won't be here, I won't have to explicitly put it in my living will".
"You have a will?" He stammered.
"Sure", She looked him square in the eye, "I had to get a will done when I was diagnosed with cancer. There are things in my will that you need to follow also. Particularly things about my kids".
"Rabia!" He stammered again, "I've asked for your forgiveness. I know I won't get it but can you not punish me? This is torture".
"How can I forgive you", She asked, incredulous at this demand, "When you keep doing the same thing that you seek forgiveness for?"
"You don't trust me", He said bitterly.
"I can trust you if you answer a question truthfully", She said seriously, "Who are you going to see when you say you're traveling out of Karachi? Is it a girlfriend?"
His head was bowed. There were so many times that he had been insulted by her. He had been embarrassed for most of their marriage but he couldn't be faithful to her, whatever that word meant to her. He had to have other women. He had never had just one woman. He had never had long relationships. It was stupid of her to think that he'd commit himself to her.
Maybe not lying could finally be an option. He won't ever get married again, that much he had enough resolve for. He won't get into the trap of marriage where women asked difficult questions and made men feel some type of responsibility for keeping channels of communication open. This was a big mistake. If Rabia had just been a fleeting fancy they might have loved each other for much longer and stronger. She became his wife and it ruined it all.
He cleared his throat.
"It's for business", He stopped for a second, "But if the truth is so important to you then I won't lie. I have been seeing a girl in another city".
The truth hurt still. It actually hurt more than the cancer itself. Pain wasn't a powerful thing to her until she was introduced to infidelity. When she was with her mother and sisters, pain was temporary. Men would decline her as an ineligible maid and her mother would embark on the quest all over again to find a husband for her. But that was a very transient type of pain. It never threatened to swallow her whole.
How many times am I going to succumb to this torture? She got angry with herself. He's free to be. I have to focus on myself.
"I'm glad you didn't lie", She said smoothly, "May Allah show you one day what it was like for me. May you never find peace, Hamza! I would like for you to eventually burn in hell but before that, some sort of divine justice should be served to you on this earth. Maybe you should get diagnosed with something fatal also. That will give me so much peace. Get out! Get the hell out. Do not come to my funeral. Actually, don't return to Karachi unless you hear about my death. Then you can come back and pretend to grieve".
Tears were falling down his handsome face. Rabia was dying and there was little anyone could do. Maybe her imminent death had made her more bitter. Maybe when you're not happy you begrudge others' happiness also. Lost in his thoughts, he silently got up and left the room.
Soon after he left, Asiya and Nasima entered.
"I told Nasima Baji to let me feed you before you slept", Asiya announced, her once-booming voice cracking at the sight of Rabia's shrunken carcass, "She wanted to come and sit with you too, Beti!"
The two older women sat next to her. Slowly Asiya fed her some bread and butter. A searing pain hit her stomach hard at the first bite.
"I'll eat it slowly, Ami!" She smiled and pushed the food away.
Asiya badgered her to eat more and eventually, she triumphantly smiled at Nasima when Rabia finished half a piece of bread. This was much more than she had eaten the last few mornings.
"Kids left?" Rabia's head fell back on the pillows. Everything cost an inordinate amount of energy, even eating.
"Yes", Nasima smiled, "Did Hamza tell you he left for another city?"
"He did", Rabia said, bitter and broken from that conversation, "I told him to rot in hell".
There was silence. Moments like these reminded Nasima of how much Kausar resembled Rabia and how the two sisters were both headstrong women, each with her own brand of courage and strength.
"I don't get it", Asiya couldn't contain herself, "His wife is so sick and he's leaving for business? What type of partnership is this? She needs him".
"He's not leaving for business", If the last thing she did was expose his rotten core then that's exactly what she was going to do, "He's going to see a girlfriend. He told me. Let him go. Please listen to me carefully and clearly. He is not to be at my funeral. Whatever embarrassment this brings on this family is beyond what I care about. The world should know that he was the worst possible man I could've been married to. Pathetic! Lying, cheating scoundrel! If you or you", She pointed her finger at both women, "Do not do as my wish, I will not forgive you on the day of judgment".
There was silence for the rest of the day. A chill had settled in. No amount of cooking Rabia's favorite foods could diminish the chill. It was icy and still. The kids laughed and ran through the house and yet, there was a cold emanating from Rabia's body that scared the two women. She had died before death. She had probably died many times before but now that her body was weaker than before, the frostiness of her life was taking it over more rapidly.
Rabia didn't eat and Asiya didn't know how to convince her. On a whim, she called Kausar. Her call went to voicemail.
Surprisingly, Arshad called in the evening.
"Hello!"
"Aunty! It's me, Arshad".
"Salam, Arshad! Is everything okay, son?"
"Yes", He hesitated then decided to move ahead without a preamble, "I have some good news".
"What?"
"Kausar and I have been blessed with a baby girl".
Asiya was dumbfounded. No news of this pregnancy had reached her. She didn't keep in touch with Kausar as much as she ought to but this was a major development. Surely she should've known!
"Congratulations, son! But I didn't know".
"Actually", He paused, "No one knew. Rabia isn't well. Kausar didn't want to inform anyone. Didn't seem appropriate".
"This is a happy news, son! God knows we could've used some happy news around here".
Rabia was getting impatient.
"What is it, Ami?" She asked in hushed tones, "What is Arshad Bhai saying?"
"Kausar had a baby", Asiya whispered.
"What?" She pulled the phone from Asiya's hands.
"Congratulations, Arshad Bhai!" She breathed, "How's Kausar?"
"Everyone is good. How are you?"
"I'm fantastic", She said, afraid to taint this moment of preserved normalcy. "Put Kausar on the phone".
Kausar came on the phone.
"You didn't tell us", Rabia complained.
"I didn't because if I had, Ami or Aunty would've been torn between caring for you or me and right now, you need them both".
Tears rolled down her once-rosy cheeks. Kausar was the only sister who would've understood. And yet, she had abandoned her.
"When can I see you?" Rabia asked quietly.
"I'm coming this weekend", Kausar's voice was quieter.
She looked at Arshad. He was laying in bed, his head on the pillows, his eyes shut. For a moment she thought he was dead. But then he looked at her and nodded.
For now, he had done what needed to be done. This was the best way to deal with it. Their marriage had waited for years for a resolution. A few weeks wasn't a big deal.
