22nd July, 2018

"I urge you to treat women well."

Narrated by al-Bukhaari

Chapter 47:

All in the name of society

Anabya had a problem, and yes, it had to do with Tanzila. Because if you'd go back to the phone call that ended a few minutes back, calling it a disaster was a very mild word.

"I'm sorry, but as long as I could, I've been polite and sidelining all of your mother's taunts, but here, I draw the line," Anabya said, coming into the bedroom.

Not looking up from his phone, Shamaaz shook his head and asked, "What happened now, Bya?"

"Keep the phone aside and listen to me, Shamaaz," she said, crossing her arms as she stood near him.

Pausing his game, but with his phone still in hand, he looked up to find a very disturbed and upset Anabya.

"So I told you a few months back that I'd like to work, right?"

"Yes."

"And what did you say?"

"If it makes you happy, you should go ahead with it."

"And today your mum called me, right?"

"Right..."

"We were having a conversation about the things I need to take for your Dadi Masi since you said we'll be visiting her, and then somehow she asked me my plans for the week after that, and I told her I had applied for a few jobs, and I had received a response from one and they called me for an interview. And you know what she said?"

"What?" Shamaaz asked, already dreading the answer.

"She told me she doesn't want me to go out and work, that if the daughter in law of the house steps out to seek a career, society thinks the husband is not capable of taking care of her and is living off of her money. Totally pointless if you ask me."

"Ugh... and what did you say?"

"I told her that I knew the rules of Islam, and our religion doesn't say it is haraam for a woman to work. If she observed the proper hijab, and if she avoided free mingling with males, and stayed in the limits of Islam, then she could do her bit to contribute to the society. Your mum just listened to me, but replied with 'it's always better for a woman to stay at home' and then hung up on me."

If, at this point, Shamaaz opened his mouth and said anything in support of Tanzila's ridiculous behavior, Anabya would totally lose it. However, as she waited for his reply, she figured out he was not going to say anything at all.

"You really aren't going to say anything?"

As if on cue, the phone in his hand beeped with an incoming call and both glanced at the screen at the same time.

Not moving to the side, Anabya looked on as Shamaaz answered his mother's phone.

After they had exchanged greetings, he was quiet while he heard what his mum had to say from the other end, before replying, "Yaar, come on, Mom, I don't have a problem with her working, what's the big deal?"

"... People will always have something to say... I'm not going against you... Oh God, I'm out of this!"

Anabya looked on as Shamaaz tossed his phone aside and said, "Mum is so annoyed."

"I don't have a problem; you didn't have a problem, why is this becoming such a huge issue?"

"She thinks it'll spoil the family name..." He justified.

"This is not done, Shamaaz, this is unacceptable. I know she's my mother in law, and I give her due credit for it. When you weren't in the city, there were a lot of things she said to me that hurt me, but I decided to give her the benefit of doubt. But this, what she's asking of me, is not right. I refuse to have my life ruled over by a third person."

"She is my mother, Bya."

"And I respect that. But that doesn't mean I let go of all the things that make me happy."

"I didn't say you have to do that..."

"But that is what it basically means. This job that I was talking about is of a counselor for troubled children, those that have had a difficult past, and the work is to help them get over the traumas of their life, it could be abuse or death, anything. Can you understand what a noble profession it is? And to think your mum doesn't want me to go ahead with it."

Shamaaz sighed, and when Anabya realized that was the only reaction she would get out of him, she simply walked out. While she acknowledged the fact that he wasn't supporting his mother or putting her down in this situation, it was of little benefit to her. He was trying to play neutral, and she should be damned for having such high expectations of him, but a tiny part of her did consider the idea that maybe he'd stand up for her, encourage her to go give that interview like she always did when it came to his dreams.

Because that was the thing with people who ripped open their hearts with kindness for others, a small part of them would always believe people would do the same. But that small part with such expectations was bound to get hurt, every single time!

But honestly, while that affected her, she refused to let his behavior waver her decision to go ahead with the job. She knew so many people who liked to stay at home after marriage, and were content with being housewives and homemakers and as long as they were happy, that's all that mattered. She agreed that being a homemaker was a task in itself, and she respected their choices, her Bhabhi and sister were a few examples, but she had other plans.

At this stage in life, she wanted to do more. It haunted her to think she had so much potential in her and she was not channelizing it in the right direction, especially when she had free time at her disposal, one that could be used to better the community. Even if that meant changing one life, bringing a smile on one face, lifting the weight from someone's heart, even if it was just an ounce.

And so, she made up her mind, she would go for the interview, in sha Allah. And even if she wasn't selected, she'd try for other jobs that helped her to work within the boundaries of her religion. She didn't need validation from people around her, she was going to stand up for herself this one time.

She had a positive feeling about this, and she would pray istikhaara and see where it'd lead her.

She refused to let the 'what will people say' mentality rule her life. She had seen dreams murdered for the sake of upholding ridiculous societal standards, but if her education had armored her with anything, it was to rise above everything that  brought you down. She was always taught to respect her elders, but that did not mean she had to suffocate under their unrealistic expectations. 

As she stabilized her thoughts, Shamaaz walked into the living room, handing over her phone.

"It's your mum," he said.

"Assalamu alaikum, Ma," Anabya answered, wondering why her mum was calling at a time she never usually did.

"Wa alaikum as salaam, Anabya, what am I hearing?"

She frowned at her tone, and looked at Shamaaz, who having witnessed her expression, reciprocated it and mumbled 'what'?

"What do you mean, Mom?" She questioned, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"I raised you to be a strong and independent woman, Anabya, but I didn't think that would backfire on me. The worst thing for a mother is to have her child's mother in law complain about her rude and impish behavior."

And all the mental talk she had earlier, all the encouragement she pumped herself with since no one else was here to do it for her, she saw it come tumbling down. 

Her mum was both her strength and her weakness. 

"I didn't do anything wrong, Mom," she clarified.

"If Tanzila is worried about her family's reputation and doesn't want you to work, why are you being stubborn? Ma sha Allah, you are married into a good family, your husband can more than fulfill all your demands, why can't you thank Allah for it and try to get along with his family? I didn't know my daughter was this opinionated, wanting her way out of every situation."

Her throat clogged up as her heart found itself choke under her accusations. This wasn't her mum, no, absolutely not. 

"It's not like how you're portraying it. I have nothing to do over here and usually find insignificant ways to kill time, what's the harm if I wish to work, for a good reason that too?"

"First fulfill your duties at home."

"I am not neglecting my duties, Ma, I'm trying my best to be a good wife to your son in law."

"For now, you're not going for any interview or seeking a job, Anabya. This is my final decision. I don't want to hear any complaints against you after this, I really didn't expect this from you."

And as she hung up on her, a single tear trickled down Anabya's cheek. In the whole of her life, never had her mother spoken to her this way, never. Anabya had always been the good girl, the ideal daughter. She did everything she could to live up to her mum's expectations, but now, getting to hear all this, it hurt her heart more than it could ever comprehend.

"Hey, Bya, what's wrong?" Shamaaz asked softly, coming to sit beside her as she hugged her knees and buried her face in a cushion.

Your mum is casually ruining my life, but oh, nothing big, you have nothing to worry about.

I'm told people envy me

For my happiness lies at my feet

But with every step I take

It's only being trampled and buried

***

The funny thing was that these days, life wouldn't even allow Anabya to wallow in her grief peacefully, because she had places to be in and people to visit so she could project the image of a perfect fairytale.

So, while she had been in a terrible mood and just wanted to be left alone, of course, it's not like life acknowledged her ideas.

"Bya, get up," she heard Shamaaz say, which was followed by vigorous shaking of her shoulder.

"I'm awake, no need to use violence!" She mumbled, thoroughly annoyed, last night's events fresh in her mind.

"Pray Fajr, and get dressed, babe, we have to leave before the rush hour starts. If we get stuck in traffic, the six hours journey can even double."

"I need to pack," she replied, sitting up while she rubbed her eyes.

Can we please cancel this plan, she wanted to ask, but she didn't even want to talk to him right now, it's not like he'd listen to her. 

He huffed at her remark and replied, "You should have finished it last night."

"Last night?" She asked, turning to look at him, while nodding her head as she recollected the events. "Right, last night..."

He winced at her expression, and said, "I'm going to the Masjid to pray, hopefully you'll be ready by the time I return."

"Have you packed your stuff, Shamaaz?" She called after him as he left.

"See I've kept my clothes on the bed, you just put it in the bag with your stuff," he called out, and grinned sneakily when he heard her mumble, "Of course, of course, you could simply say I have to pack your things too."

She was probably acting too sassy but she was exhausted with the gloominess that had shrouded her heart last night. Her mother's words rang in her ears as she washed her face, and when she looked at her reflection in the mirror, she shook her head.

This is the part of life nobody talks about, the one where people give up on you, and your happiness comes with a price.

Sighing, she pushed stray curls behind her ear and walked out, before she fetched her dupatta and prayer mat and stood to pray. After salah, she quickly rummaged through her closet and selected dresses she'd need, and even decided to pack an extra pair, just in case a need arose to extend their trip. She thought back and quickly walked to the en suite bathroom and picked up both their toothbrushes, toothpaste and other toiletries, and then dragged a tuffet from the living room to their bedroom and climbed on it to reach the overhead cabinet. She groaned upon realizing that despite the assistance of the additional height, she could not reach the bag and was just going back to drag the dining chair when she heard the main door open.

"Wa alaikum as salaam," she replied to his greeting and added, "I need your help in fetching the suitcase from top."

"Aren't the empty bags in the bed storage?" Shamaaz asked walking in and bit his lip to stop from smiling when he saw Anabya standing on the tuffet yet she barely reached where she intended to. He would have teased her for it but considering her mood, he decided not to instigate her, certain it would backfire.

But his eyes probably gave away because as he walked closer to her, she said, "Exactly Shamaaz, not all of us are tall like you." Replying to his earlier question, she added, "And nope, the suitcases there are big, we need the smaller one form here."

"Okay, okay," he said, getting it down without any trouble. "Please hurry up, Bya, we can't afford to leave later than planned."

She zipped the bag open and mumbled, "Almost done, relax."

"And you're yet to take a shower?"

"Obviously."

He groaned and jumped on the bed, lying down as he waited for her to finish.

By the time Bya had packed, showered, taken the extra food in the fridge to give away to someone in need, rechecked if all windows were closed, curtains drawn and lights off, it was already six in the morning, which she'd say wasn't very late, a statement that Shamaaz would disagree with.

As Shamaaz wheeled his car out of the basement, he stated, "Weren't you the student who was always late for her morning lectures? The kind who'd walk in at 9:00 for an 8:30 class, grin sheepishly and then quietly occupy the empty seat closest to her?"

"I was, and I wish I could go back to being that," she sighed and Shamaaz gave her a sideways glance and turned silent.

Anabya thought it was funny she was missing that phase of life which she had despised. But if you think about it, as we dismiss the little joys of our present and crave for a future that we think will bring us more happiness, what we don't realize is that maybe this moment is the best, and we've already ruined it by waiting for something better, that, when it happens, could actually be worse than this.

She used to crib about all the stress college gave her and wanted to get done with it, and now that it was over, she realized those struggles were too small compared to what reality had in store for her. She almost missed being a student, she longed for that freedom and independence.

She exhaled at her thoughts, and tried to get out of this sullen mood but obviously, it was easier said than done to let go of things that you looked forward to, to have your plans ruined for reason as baseless as meeting society's never ending expectations.

When the car jerked a little at the traffic light, Anabya momentarily let go of her thoughts and glanced at Shamaaz. He looked calm and peaceful as he enjoyed the ride, and the music, on a beautiful morning, unaware of all the thoughts that were running in her mind. And it was worth pondering over, wasn't it, because although he had been a witness to her breakdown in the night, he probably thought she was over it by now, but only she knew that with a mind that weighed this heavy, it was impossible for her heart to soar above the baggage.

She wanted to tell him to turn off the music but she was in no mood for another argument, so she kept quiet and unlocked her phone, surprised to find a message from her mother.

Did you two leave? – Mum

She felt a little angry, a little hurt, and an overall wave of disappointment, but even then, she decided to leave a reply.

Yes. – Bee

Did you have breakfast? – Mum

No. We'll stop by at an eatery. – Bee

Okay. Are you alright? – Mum

She bit the inside of her cheek at the question, resisting the urge to cry, and replied,

I'm fine. – Bee

You don't look fine. – Mum

I'm fine. – Bee

Still upset about what I said last night? – Mum

YES I AM UPSET!

No. – Bee

Tanzila came home and created a big scene that's why I reacted like that, my sugar levels were very high after listening to her. I know you're a big girl and can take decisions, I trust you. – Mum

She was absolutely going to cry! She was still hurt but there was something about your mum feeling remorseful, that even if it was her mistake, you didn't want her to feel that way!

It's okay, I'm really fine, don't worry, Ma. :) – Bee

Okay. – Mum

Does this mean I can go for the interview next week? – Bee

I didn't say that, Anabya. Please drop this matter for now, and don't make matters worse, I still mean the part where I said you don't need to work. – Mum

The reply extinguished the small spark of hope that lit Anabya's heart!

Fine. – Bee

Enjoy your trip, don't be in this mood, you won't get this time back. Assalamu alaikum. – Mum

Okay. Wa alikum as salaam. – Bee

Anabya was quiet for a long time after that as she tossed her phone aside and gazed out of the window, passing by people who had stories of their own. Her mother had raised all of them to be independent, especially because after losing her husband at a young age, her mum believed her children had to be prepared to face anything life had in store for them. And after being brought up in a family where women were respected, their choices considered, she felt all of this that was happening was too backward. It didn't sit well with her that she was being asked to let go of everything she had thought possible only because she was now married, and her in laws had other ideas. Marriage was not supposed to be so hard, at least she hadn't thought it to be like this. 

Meanwhile, unaware of the debate that spun in her head, Shamaaz picked up chicken rolls on the way and while she ate them quietly, he said,

"Cheer up, Bya."

"I'm fine, Shamaaz," she replied instantly.

"I see," he nodded, as he jerked the car haywire.

"Don't do that," she chided, while he laughed and steered the car back on road.

"Just shaking you out of the sour mood. With one glance, Dadi Masi will figure out you're not feeling good."

At least someone who can understand emotions, she thought in her mind.

"She's that observant?" Anabya asked, her brain occupied as she ate and Shamaaz nodded, and when he saw her eating fries, he opened his mouth.

"You can use your other hand," she said, recounting several occasions when he'd just drive using one hand. And suddenly now, both hands seemed to be on the steering wheel.

"On the highway? Not at all," he gasped and rolling her eyes at his dramatics, she dipped them in ketchup and fed him some.

Life's all cute for you, Shamaaz, but peek inside my mind and you'll probably see so many problems that I don't have an answer to. And you're not helping.

"Yeah, she is very observant. My paternal grandmum died while I was still a kid, so her sister, Dadi Masi was like our grandmother. Besides, after my dad, my grandmum had my Aunt within a short span, and since she couldn't take care of all four children, she sent dad over to her sister's place. Dadi Masi nursed him and looked after him for four years, both our families are very close. She's a cool lady, and lives with her only son and his wife, Niaz Uncle and Nahida Aunty, who have a son a little elder to me, basically my second cousin whose name is Haneef, his wife is Sakina, and they have a son, his name is Faiz. And if you're wondering, yes, four generations live in the same house."

"That's actually so nice," Anabya said, trying to divert her mind, and Shamaaz wondered what he had just said that brought a change in her mood. "I'm a little intimidated at the thought because it's the first time I'm going to be seeing them and spending time at their place since our wedding. But I think it's so beautiful that they all live together, I'm used to nuclear families, so this is different, and I've always wondered what it's like to live in a joint family."

"It's fun, at least for the kids," he agreed. "I used to spend most of my summer holidays in their haveli with my other cousins and we used to create a ruckus. It's a small town, so everyone knows each other, and the neighbor's house is practically your second home. So we used to be a whole tribe of kids together, ruling the streets and you know once, what happened..."

And as Shamaaz narrated memories from his childhood, Anabya ceased the moment to turn off the music while she traveled back in time when this guy sitting beside her was an innocent, little boy...

***

By the time Shamaaz halted the car in the vast courtyard of the haveli, Anabya knew she was going to leave her heart here. This hill station was everything she could imagine and more. The air was pure, there were red and ripe strawberries being sold freshly picked from the trees, the weather was pleasant, the wind swayed in glee, a few boys passed by them racing on cycles, and little girls sat in front of houses doing their homework. It was a little town, one that didn't compete with their big city, certain that its simplicity outweighed all of the modern world's luxuries.

The minute she stepped out of the car, she was greeted with a hefty old lady, wearing a mint green maxi, who she assumed was Dadi Masi.

Anabya went forward to kiss her hand and hug her out of respect and although she had been skeptical earlier at the thought of meeting new people, something about this place instantly calmed her, a hint that she finally met people from her in laws family whom she actually liked, without having to force it."My dear, you look so much better than you looked on your wedding day."

"Umm..." Anabya dragged as she didn't know how exactly she was supposed to respond to the statement. Was it a compliment?

"Dadi Masi, come on now, don't start an argument with my wife even before she's stepped inside the haveli," Shamaaz warned good naturedly, as he wheeled the suitcase with him and came to hug her, but instead was met with a slap on his chest.

"You idiot, I was complementing her. I meant without the makeup, she looks prettier. Natural beauty and all that," she explained. "Where's my hug now?"

"Oh you mean that way, I agree then!" Shamaaz grinned and as he came forward to hug her again, he was met with another slap on his cheek.

"Dadi Masi, you're embarrassing me in front of my wife," he whined, and Anabya tried hard to hide the amusement on her face but failed miserably.

"Your wife should be embarrassed because she married you," she corrected and Anabya fake coughed but her grin didn't go unnoticed by the two.

"You don't know how lucky she thinks she is to be in a place so many girls can only dream of, she falls in Sajda everyday thanking Allah for me."

"She may be doing long Sajdas, I agree, but it's probably asking Allah forgiveness for sins by which you ended up as her spouse."

"It's a good thing my personality is on fleek, my confidence is high and I have a good sense of humor," he muttered as he came forward to hug her and this time she didn't resist. As she held him for a long while, Anabya could see why despite her insults, Shamaaz held her in high regard. She was feisty, but her love for him was genuine.

She wiped away a few tears as she took a step back, but contradictory to her emotions, the next second she held him by the ear, and took him to the haveli while she shouted, "And you come to visit me after so many months? I thought I should invite you to my funeral, that'd probably be the only reason you'd visit."

"Dadi Masi, you're ruining my reputation," Anabya heard Shamaaz grumble and smiling at the entire exchange, she followed them inside.

This was going to be fun!