Raqib’s Ma heard that. She began screaming abusively. ‘What did you say? Worthless? My son will do just as he pleases. If you can control your girl, do that! Hey, how do you think you’re raising her? She’s come of age, and yet she prances around brazenly! Don’t you see that?’
Nothing entered Riziya’s little head. The two sisters-in-law were fighting because of her. She was old enough to realize that the nasty things that were being said were directed at her. She knew that her Boro Mami was a bad-tempered woman. Nonetheless, Riziya could no longer remain silent. So she too flared up. She said, ‘Boro Mami, you’re saying terrible things. Let Chhoto Mama come, I’ll tell him everything. You are as rotten as your son.’
Boro Mami disliked the motherless Riziya for no reason. Although she was not a member of her immediate family, she still viewed her as unwanted in the larger household. Boro Mami was under the impression that Salaam Miya was raising her simply to appropriate Riziya’s mother’s property, and that her younger sister-in-law, Salaam Miya’s wife, was the one behind that. After Riziya’s Ma died, it was she who had embraced her in front of everyone. She had merely put on a show for all to see. That’s why Raqib’s mother could not tolerate Riziya. Another reason for that was Fulsura. Riziya was younger than Fulsura, and she was also prettier-looking than her. Boro Mami was overcome with jealousy. So when she heard such big words from Riziya’s tiny mouth, she was incensed. She said, ‘My blood boils at this whore’s cunning. The wretched girl goes to school, hasn’t she learnt anything? Playing innocent!’
‘Why are you saying all this rubbish to a little girl, my dear? Are you abusing her? Chhee! Don’t you have any sense? You say whatever comes to your head to a girl who’s younger than your own Fulsura?’
‘Yes. And I’ll do as I please. After all, she’s not a bull calf, but a heifer. Don’t you need to be careful?’
She stomped out as she said that. And at that moment, Riziya was transformed from a girl into a woman. The sense that she was not just a person but a woman was imprinted in her consciousness. A heifer.
She would never be able to trust any male person any more. She had to cover her bosom and her head now. She couldn’t go out on a whim any more. She had to be far away from the scorching touch of any man. Chhoto Mami carefully explained lots of restrictions to her. She had to remember all the time that she was a woman.
Riziya had not been able to understand whether Raqib really had any ill intentions. He had taken her along to show her the colourful rainbow in the sky. He had said, ‘Look, Rizi, see how the rainbow forms an arc in the sky. Come to the roof, you’ll be able to see it properly.’
Riziya was astonished to see the colours. She wondered where these colours began and where they ended. She was filled with curiosity.
Now that she had grown up, she realized that the rainbow could have been shown from downstairs itself. After all, it was not a different sky one saw from there! Was the secluded attic required for that? What would Raqib have done if Boro Mami had not arrived just as he had grabbed her hand and pulled her towards him? Remembering that now made her hair stand on end. But besides this, there were many more reasons for which she disliked Raqib.
Coming back to the present, perhaps Raqib had felt offended because Riziya had not clearly explained why she would not ride with him. He had been standing in the courtyard. He had heard the conversation between uncle and niece. And he had turned the handlebar of the bike at once. He made to start the old vehicle. It didn’t. He tried again, but it didn’t work. When the bike remained stationary despite repeated attempts to start it, Raqib felt ashamed. The poor chap was perspiring. That provided an opportunity for Salaam Miya to express his annoyance. ‘You go and buy an old vehicle! That’s why Rizi didn’t want to get on it. Did you think you could go to Howrah in this? Wouldn’t there have been an accident?’
Raqib didn’t say anything to his uncle. He gazed at Riziya with a terribly ugly look on his face. Riziya was terrified of that look. She decided not to go to college and went back to her room.
The problem pertaining to the land was getting worse by the day. Salaam Miya and Kalu Miya had devised a fabulous scheme. So that they could have the cake and eat it too. Sending Riziya to college with Raqib was a part of that scheme. The two brothers had come together after seven or eight long years and decided that a part of the land would be sold and Fulsura’s marriage would be concluded. Riziya’s share would not be sold. Her share would be given over to Raqib as joint property. They had decided to get Riziya married to Raqib. The household property would remain within the household. The girl too would remain in the household. There was no longer any need for Raqib to go to Dubai. That land was extremely valuable, that would take care of his future. Raqib knew of the decision, but Riziya did not. They didn’t think it was necessary to tell her.
It was only Muslim men who got married. Women did not. They were married off. She simply had to say ‘I agree’, deferring to the murubbis. There wouldn’t be a problem even if she didn’t say ‘I agree’, although someone like a grandmother would keep pinching the girl’s back behind the screen. If the girl was silent, often it was they who uttered ‘I agree’ promptly. If anyone from the groom’s side protested, they said, ‘Don’t you know, women never open their mouths even if they are bursting to say something.’ Everyone in the gathering would burst out in laughter at the joke. The sobs of the unwilling girl in the forced marriage were inaudible amidst the guffaws. So it was difficult to even think that Riziya needed to be informed. Although, actually, Islam had made marriage into a contract. The complete agreement of the man and woman was required under that.
twenty-two
Tahirul returned from his visit to his village home. There were two more days to go before the Ramzan fast. As soon as he reached the mosque, he saw for himself the ill effects of his absence. The mosque committee had inducted a hafez for the special late-night prayers that were held during the month of Ramzan. The Hafez Saheb was a callow youth with a few strands of hair sprouting on his chin. But whatever his beard may be like, his memorization of the thirty paras of the Koran was supposedly excellent. The people of Sadnahati were practical folk. The one- or one-and-a-half-hour-long Tarabi prayer troubled them immensely. Nobody could recite it. But this Hafez Saheb recited the Koran so speedily that he completed the entire book even before the most special night of Laylat al-Qadr, on the twenty-seventh day of the month. He took only half an hour each day. The hafez, who had been there earlier, was so slow that people were irked. But Tahirul himself was an expert hafez. He led the prayers all five times of the day. So why was someone else doing the twenty rakats of the Tarabi? Besides, he was the imam of this mosque. So, was a hafez employed without his knowledge? Had his importance shrunk so much in just ten days? From his room he spotted Abdul Chacha. He called out to him. When Abdul Chacha came, he asked, ‘What’s the news, Chacha?’
‘Hujur, the news is not good.’
‘Why is that?’
‘You left, and meanwhile I heard a lot of things. That apparently you visit Salaam Miya’s house all the time.’
Tahirul was stunned. He was not prepared to hear such a thing! Concealing his shock, he smiled like a wise man. He said, ‘Yes, I do go. I’ve been going to Kalu Miya’s place to teach for a long time. What’s the problem with that?’
‘Kalu Miya’s establishment and Salaam Miya’s establishment are separate.’
‘Who’s saying all this rubbish?’
‘I cannot tell you any names, but they were asking me whether or not I was with the Maulana Saheb all the time on the day of Shab-e-Barat. I didn’t know anything. I only told them the truth, that I was with you all day, why do they ask. They asked me what the Maulana Saheb was doing at night in Salaam Miya’s courtyard. They told me to ask you about that!’
And then, curious, he lowered his head and asked softly, ‘Had you been there, Hujur?’
Tahirul realized that a rumour had been floated. However trivial it was, he sensed that it could well lead to a lot of talk in Sadnahati. He could handle Abdul Chacha somehow, but what about the people at large? They were so zealous when it came to the Imam Saheb that everything was exaggerated tenfold. Tahirul felt a bit frightened. He said to Abdul Chacha, ‘Do you know who else spoke about this?’
‘No one. Only me and the muezzin Rahmat Bhai. Salaam Miya had asked him what the Maulana Saheb wanted to talk to him about, whether you had been to his house.’
‘No one else?’
‘No.’
Tahirul was unable to figure out whether Abdul Chacha himself was suspicious and was therefore questioning him, or whether this had really become public. In order to make light of the matter, he said, ‘Chachi had called me to give her an amulet. But she asked me not to let Salaam Chacha know. It was a secret. Do you follow me?’
Tahirul made up a lie once again. He might have to lie many times to conceal the original lie. So he wanted to dismiss the matter, as if he were driving away flies. He changed the subject and asked, ‘Where is the hafez employed for the Tarabi from?’
‘The Hafez Saheb is from 24 Parganas. Shall I call him? Do you want to meet him?’
‘No. Not now. I have to speak to the committee. Have you heard his recitations? Does he do it properly?’
‘Oh, we’ve checked all that. He does it quite well.’
Tahirul had been the imam of Sadnahati for so long, and yet their age-old tradition had remained unchanged. Those who had inducted a hafez to recite the thirty paras of the Koran were also the ones who examined him. Even though they themselves could not recite a single page from memory. Tahirul felt hurt. Didn’t it occur to them to let Hujur return, and employ the person after he interviewed and approved of him!
The new Hafez Saheb himself came to Tahirul’s room after a little while. He exchanged greetings and sat down beside Abdul Chacha, who stood up respectfully and asked, ‘Hujur, shall I bring some tea?’
Tahirul gave his consent cheerfully. He said, ‘Chacha, only tea? Bring some muri or something also.’
After Abdul Chacha left, they talked. Tahirul was much more capable than him in every respect, right from upholding the dignity of the post, to age, and knowledge. Keeping the same in mind, the Hafez Saheb said, ‘Hujur, I’ve heard a lot about you.’
‘Really? Who did you hear that from?’
‘From Alam Saheb. Aren’t you a member of the Imams’ Organization?’
