Asiya's agony was rewarded by a painless death. She just didn't wake up one morning. Whether it was the painkillers or another medical tragedy within her frail body, Kausar was glad that her mother looked the same regal woman she was born as. Her face was almost unlined, most of her hair was still dark, her lips looked like they'd speak again.
"Beti!" Nasima said as Kausar sat quietly, looking out the window, "Take me with you. Don't leave me here".
"I wasn't going to", She said.
Nasima's face blanched.
"You wanna come with me, right?" Kausar asked, alarmed at how her face had flushed, "Do you not want to come with me?"
"I didn't expect you to say yes", Nasima said.
"Why?"
"After all that happened and how I treated you, I didn't expect you to say yes".
"Aunty!" Kausar sat across from her, "I forgave you a long time ago. Have you forgiven me?"
Nasima stared at her hands. Why was Kausar asking for forgiveness?
"You don't owe me forgiveness or apology", She finally said, "And I might not even come with you", She smiled, "I just wanted to ask and see how much I meant to you".
Kausar laughed.
"Well", She laughed more, "Tough luck for you, Aunty, because now you'll have to come with me. Don't play a game that you can't handle the prize for".
They both laughed. Something about Kausar was so much like the woman she had met with a toddler in her arms over thirty years ago in New Jersey. She had survived, Nasima looked at her laughing, she had survived against it all.
They stayed up for most of the night. It had been thirty days since Asiya had passed. Nasima showed Kausar many things that she had collected over the years to give to the kids one day.
"And look at this!" Nasima brought out a particularly blinged out necklace, "I gave this to Rabia when she had Noor. Isn't this beautiful?"
What had Rabia meant to Nasima? Kausar thought. They were both women who excelled in mathematics beyond normal standards. They had a love for calculus, algebra, trigonometry and complex theorems that was hard to share with many people. She had heard the world refer to such women as "women in STEM". To this family, they remained a man's fodder.
Maybe Nasima saw something in Rabia that she had seen herself also. A love for science and engineering, a love for math, a penchant for odd problems and their long solutions. Maybe she had thought that she could change it for Rabia. Alas! Nothing could change life for Rabia.
"Beti!" Nasima said, "Even if I count all the bad things that happened to me after I got married, the fact that two of the best girls were my daughters-in-law trumps everything. You and Rabi! How could I ever thank Allah for the gift that Asiya raised for me?"
The mention of Asiya was so sudden but so appropriate that she couldn't hold back.
"I miss Ami so much, Aunty!" She cried.
Nasima cried with her.
They slept after saying Fajr. It had been a long night of reminiscing.
Something cold was resting quietly against her arm. Even though it was the chill of death, it was comforting. Kausar kept her eyes closed, afraid to lose everything if she opened them.
Finally she stole a look at the last woman who called her Beti! Nasima's face was white, her lips blue, her body stiffened into the posture of a child sleeping comfortably in her mother's womb.
"I think we should leave tomorrow", Musa said after the funeral.
Kausar didn't say anything. The way her life worked had never made sense to her.
"I'm fine with it", She said, detached and indifferent.
"Mom!" Amira said, "Is it okay if I go shopping for a few things?"
"Take Zehra with you", Kausar suggested.
"I wanna go by myself. It's not going to be for very long. The driver can show me around".
"Fine by me".
EPILOGUE!
His back had been hurting for days now. He couldn't do anything about it. The last time he went to the doctor he had recommended more XR and MRI. He slathered some cheap balm instead.
Because his back was so bad he had developed a poor posture that didn't allow for him to raise his neck much. He had developed a hunchback. It wasn't the most attractive look but his salvation would be death and it wouldn't come faster.
He focused his eyes on the fine print in front of him. Some big company had asked him to write an advertisement for their next commercial product. This was what his life was reduced to now. After many odd jobs for decades he had finally landed this position with the local newspaper.
It was hard to understand what they wanted for him. It was a simple flask, something to keep your drink warm in for four hours. They wanted him to write a convincing advertisement that would bring in millions of rupees, all while they paid his company one rupee per word. It wasn't like he got any of that money. He was salaried.
Thanks to some kind neighbors he had been given this job. There had new promise of a pension but he didn't think that was going to happen. This wasn't a particularly big operation. It was a small evening newspaper with limited circulation. Getting a monthly paycheck was sometimes in jeopardy, let alone fancy things like a pension or even a raise.
His mind wandered as he tried to put together enticing words for the flask. He could've had a family, a job, a home, had it not been for Arshad and his elusive American dream. Everything had shattered because of how Arshad strung him along.
And then Kausar ruined it. And then there had been more women, more trouble.
He looked up and tried to stretch his back. The mere effort cost him significant energy. He went back to stooping over his table.
Something strange caught his eye. He looked up again. A girl stood in the doorway. She was tall and seemed to take up most of it. She was built like an athlete with broad shoulders and a wide neck. If he hadn't known it, he wouldn't have suspected it. But the resemblance was uncanny.
He stole another glance at her. She was looking around, oblivious to how larger than life she was and how many people were watching her with interest and intimidation. She was so like another woman in another time that he would've been a fool to not recognize who could've given birth to a feral woman like herself.
He sensed her coming over. He hunched over some more. He wanted to blend into the wall behind him and disappear.
"This is where you work?" She asked softly, the vocal fry making him sweat more.
He was trembling slightly. She seemed to enjoy it.
"Do you know who I am?" She asked again.
He shook his head. He could not acknowledge her. That would be the worst form of defeat. He didn't care about her. She had been another woman who had ruined it for him.
"I pity you", She said, "You're so pathetic. Look at you! Barely a man, more like a weasel. I have such a great life but the thought that you're my father sometimes makes me throw up".
His hands were shaking. She watched. He tried to concentrate. She was raised by Kausar but this wasn't Kausar's style at all. Kausar didn't play with her food. She was kind, very kind. How did Amira turn out so different?
"One night", Amira said, "Many nights ago, when I was a toddler, I was called a bastard. My mother was called a whore. Many men decided that we were two dishonorable women who had colluded with fate to bring shame on our men. You escaped all blame".
"I don't know what you're talking about?" Adeel finally said. "I don't know who you are".
"I had heard that word so much about myself. People called me a bastard child all the time. The only time they didn't say it was when my mother was around".
"I will have to call my supervisor", Adeel said, "You are out of line".
She put her hands on the table in front of him and towered over him. She had a menacing way about her. He couldn't believe Kausar had raised her.
"You are the man behind a lot of my pain", She said, her eyes boring into his head, "You are still alive though. You're like a worm. It survives on the bare minimum".
He was hyperventilating.
"You don't have a wife or kids", She continued, "You have no one. But see! I have everything. A family, love, siblings, a parent. I have friends. I have a great life".
She paused.
"I thought a lot before coming here today. A part of me wanted to see you and call you Dad. Another part wanted to crush your spirit. Guess I don't want to call you Dad".
Why is she here? He wondered.
"My mom told me everything about how I came to be", Amira said, "I have hated you since. But I thought I should give you a chance to explain yourself also. Do you have something to say?"
He didn't know what to say. This could be the final chance that life had reserved for him. Kausar might have sent her to soften him. Why she antagonized him was beyond him.
"If your mother told you everything", He said, sarcasm still his first language, "Then why are you here? You look like a smart girl. Something tells me that you don't trust that woman as much as you might try and make me believe. Tell me! Why are you here? To laugh at me? Well, the joke's on you. You could be raised by a hundred women but I never accepted you as my daughter. You'll never have a father, however big your family might get. That you won't be able to get with money or your charms or this biting tongue. Unfortunately, the happy power to validate your existence still is with me. You wasted your time. I never wanted you to call me Dad. I never even wanted you to come into this world but your stupid mother chose a life of abhorrence and rejection for you. Ruined me too in the process".
She stared at him. She had always thought that he'd at least cry a little, lament the loss of a life that he could've had only if he had made the right choice, call her name in pain. But he was heartless! Just like Kausar had said.
But then how could my mother love him? She wondered. He's a beast. How could she love him?
A few drops of something fell on the paper he was working on. He couldn't look up. His neck didn't allow for sudden swift movements. If he turned it too much, it hurt for days. But he wanted to see her cry. Defeating Amira was defeating Kausar.
He looked up. Up close she didn't look like Kausar all that much. She had big brown eyes like him. Her mouth curved in the same place that his did. Her shoulders were wide but she had a leaner figure than Kausar. Overall, she had taken after him a lot more than she had taken after Kausar.
Something about this ruffled something in him. Initially it was like an electric current, short lived but powerful. It jolted him over and over. It then became a pang. It lost its excitement. Slowly it became agony as he watched Amira's tears drench all the papers on the table.
They stared at each other, the man who lost it all, face to face with the child who hadn't mattered much. Time stood still.
Finally, Amira stopped crying. Her face got smooth again. Her eyes didn't look like they had been wet and pouring just a second ago.
"Didn't want to cry", She said briskly before making to leave, "But guess I'll call this your funeral where I cried. Because obviously I won't be coming to it".
He stared at her retreating back.
"Did you go to see him?" Kausar asked.
Amira nodded quietly.
They were standing in the balcony outside their hotel room, overlooking Karachi's insane traffic. This was one of the most populous parts of the city, close to Teen Talwar and Park Towers, two giant landmarks of the overwhelming city.
She knew Amira wanted to see Adeel. Maybe there was a part of her that had liked to see the man who fathered her. Maybe she was a glutton of punishment like her mother.
"He has no remorse, Mom", Amira said, her voice breaking, "He didn't call me by my name. He didn't even look at me for many minutes. Nothing got to him. Anger, pain, resentment! Nothing could shake him. I can't believe how you could love him. He seemed so….."
"Unfeeling?" Kausar supplied.
Amira nodded again.
"Well," Kausar finally said, "You always thought he was this mystery man and deserved to be seen. Now your intrigue is quenched".
She had thought seeing Adeel would give Amira some closure. She wanted to ask many questions but when it came to Adeel, there weren't many questions. Like Faraz, he was predictable.
Someone stood behind them.
"Who made you cry?" Musa asked.
The two women stayed quiet.
Then Amira spoke up.
"My Dad".
"You went to see him?"
"Yes".
"Why?"
"Just cuz", Amira started defiantly. Headstrong like her mother, this seemed like an interrogation. Then she looked at Musa. He had been a confidante even though they head butted a ton.
"Just cuz I wanted to see where I came from.".
"Where you came from?" He asked.
"Yeah, like my lineage, my father, all that crap".
"We all came from her", Musa said, "Even Zehra and Noor. What are you searching for?"
"I guess we did", Amira said finally, sheepishly smiling, "But you guys know who your dads were and I always thought…."
"I never knew who my dad was", Musa interrupted her, "And neither did Zehra or Noor. Just because we saw our dads doesn't mean we knew them".
It started to make sense now. This elusive chase of identity wasn't a small deal. It was everyone's life's work.
"I guess you're right", She smiled, "Guess just wanted someone to call me Beti like Mama calls me".
"If that's the problem", Musa said, "Then I can call you Beti always from now. I do think you'd learn a ton about important stuff if I took you under my wing. As my progeny. As someone who could be my student. As someone who needs guidance….someone who hasn't figured most of it out y….."
"Getting ahead of yourself again, Musa", She stepped out, Kausar laughing, Musa continuing to tease her. Soon they heard Amira laughing outside too.
"Why did you let her go?" Musa asked Kausar.
"I don't know", Kausar shrugged her shoulders, "I vowed when you were born that unless you were in danger, I won't stop you from steering your own life. Do you think she'll be okay?"
"I wouldn't worry about Amira", He said airily, "She's your daughter. She'll find a way".
Kausar smiled. It had been a long way to salvation. She had fallen, she had been broken. But somehow through it all, the light of freedom had finally shone.
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