Part 3:
Ammi, my strength and essence of my life has often questioned me about my plans for marriage. Unlike other mothers of my generation, she has never pushed me or introduced me to other women at the pretext of a suitable match, but I know she wants me to get married one day. I have procrastinated this decision for sometime, but now that I am in my late twenties, I have given it some thought. Yes, I will get married one day because that's the right thing to do for a man. I can't deprive Ammi of the pleasure of being a mother-in-law and then a grandmother one day. Even though my offspring will have Mr. Rashid Ahmed Khan's genes, I will make sure my kids will never be influenced by their grandfather's karma. I will be the best father to my children- never abandon them or deprive them of the unconditional love and support they deserve. I know I will never marry for love; but my ideal wife will be like Ammi- graceful, elegant, loving and would care for everyone, she would treat my family as if it were hers and if needed, give up her life for my family. Besides respecting her culture and religion, I am sure she will be a great cook like Ammi. Ammi's biryani and kabobs are my weakness. If there is one thing my future wife will have to prove, is her proficiency in the culinary department.
After a tiring day, as I walked in dreaming of kabobs, I was shocked to see our kitchen in disarray. Had a mouse or cat been at play in the kitchen? There was flour and egg shells all over the counter. Nothing riles me up more than a messy house. Before I could blow up at the explosion, Ms New York sprang up like a jack-in-the-box with a spatula in her hand. Ms Loudmouth was trying her hand in the kitchen- she was baking a cake! Who gave her the right to use Ammi's kitchen? I was disgusted at the sight of the chaos in the kitchen. The product was equally wrecked- like the pitted surface of the moon that she insisted on calling A CAKE! As I walked out, she had a big grin on her face; as if she had won the cupcake wars finale. I paused for a second, my gaze caressed the flour stains on her cheeks. Her child-like innocence pitter-pattered at my heart for a split second. Fuming at myself for getting distracted, I stormed out of the kitchen. This was one woman who needed to stay out of our lives for sure. To my dismay, when I returned, Ammi and Ms. Messy were engaged in a tearful hugging session. Was the cake that tasty? Whatever it was, I was relieved to see a smile on Ammi's face. She had looked a little off that day. I gave Ms New York a few brownie points for that gesture.
Since Ms Farooqui has entered our lives, I have been keeping a mental check list of what my future wife WOULD NOT BE! Why am I thinking about marriage right now? Akram just told me his horrendous experience at his Nikaah that never happened. His bride-to-be apparently ran away from the Nikaah. Allah, please keep such women away from the altar. If I ever met that woman, I would make sure she realizes that she is a sin for all womanhood and would never find happiness in life. I am sure the woman I marry would have tremendous respect for the institution of marriage and never hesitate to say 'qubool hai.'
I have always been a man who believed in science and facts. Astrology, sun signs, hokey pokey stuff doesn't appeal to me. Ammi and Najma respect my ideologies and even though like most women, they talk about horoscopes and stars, they have never tried to drag me into such conversation. Ms New York, on the other hand, made it a point one morning to irritate me with her chants of daily horoscopes- HORRORSCOPE- as far as I am concerned. As if to annoy me further, she tried to engage us all in a conversation about love and romance. Typical woman! Dreamy eyed, she talked about love as if it were the most important thing in her life. I was convinced she needed a mental check up. Her life experiences were probably a collection of idiotic romance novels, Bollywood movies and TV shows. Perhaps that was the reason, she was crying at the dargah. She had not found her Shahrukh Khan yet. I am sure SRK doesn't hang out at dargahs in search of dreamy eyed damsels. Hope her myth would be broken one day.
When I returned from work that evening, a worried Ammi forced me to go find her bechari. Apparently, Ms Starry eyed had ventured out to witness the meteor shower that evening. Last I heard, she was not a astronomer and I did not see a telescope in her baggage. Reluctantly, I obliged. She was our guest and her safety was our responsibility. At last I found her in an isolated garden- last place a woman should venture out in the evening. Was she aware that there are vultures all over the place, ready to pounce on any woman they can set their eyes on? I tried my best to reason with her. I was polite and courteous, but the brat that she was, became very defiant and refused to budge. And then she had the audacity to challenge my beliefs, my values. Even I lost my temper, especially when she cursed me that I would fall in love with a woman who wore jeans, challenged traditions, was disobedient - essentially someone like her! We fought like two tigers in a cage. I returned the favor with an equally vicious curse- she would marry some one who would snap her wings and teach her some manners and traditions.
We were both stubborn; I knew she wouldn't listen to me but when I mentioned how worried Ammi was, that convinced her to leave the garden with me. These two women had formed some kind of bond that I was not a part of. Whatever it was, I was relieved but before we both knew it, she had tripped on a rock and lo and behold- landed in my arms! Initially I was taken aback, a little pissed at how clumsy she was but as I held her close to my body, I forgot where we were. Her angelic face lit up against the dull moonlight, captivated me just like she had at the dargah. I was drawn into her eyes- yes they were so dreamy but so real, alien but so familiar, dark but so sparkly, hateful but so endearing...
Embarrassed, we both drove back home in silence. I am glad she didn't talk. I savored those moments of silence. As I inhaled an unfamiliar but sweet scent, I felt a little heady. I headed straight to my bedroom and hit the pillow. I relish my sleep- early to bed and early to rise has always been my motto in life. It's helped me in school, college and at work but that night, I tossed around like a sleepless owl, angry and confused at the same time. The meteor shower had snatched my sleep and peace of mind. Wonder if NASA is aware of this scientific fact!
...to be contd..
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