"Talashnama" by Ismail Darbesh

Reshma observed the anxiety and sadness writ large on Riziya’s face. She felt dejected seeing her; Riziya had a terrified look, her face was grimy. Reshma was, however, aware of the commotion that was happening around Riziya’s property, marriage, and so on. And so, she could also understand her agitated state of mind. For that matter, she wasn’t unaware of the secret exchange of hearts between her and Imam Saheb either. That’s why she could not engage in the usual banter with Riziya today. Instead, she tried to convey her empathy.

She had prepared some simui yesterday. So she brought two bowls of simui, and gave one to her daughter, Nilufa, and as she proffered the second to Riziya, she said, ‘Have it, Rizi. I prepared it yesterday. Whatever you say, simui tastes nice only during Eid, isn’t it?’

Actually, Reshma wanted to distract Riziya with this change of subject. She would be pleased if the sadness departed her face and a smile took its place. But Riziya did not reply. She sat silently with the bowl in her hand. Putting it down, she said, ‘I made a terrible mistake, Bhabi! I can’t forgive myself. I think it was very wrong of me.’

‘I know everything, sister! What else can I say? I know you are very sad now.’

After that, Reshma moved close to Riziya, like an intimate. She put her hand on her shoulder. She whispered to her, ‘Shall I leave for my father’s house? Come, I’ll take you along, it’ll be an outing.’

‘When will you return, Bhabi?’

Reshma replied gleefully, ‘You’ll come, won’t you? We’ll stay for two or three days. You’ll be cheered up.’

Riziya heaved a deep sigh, and the worried look on her face was replaced by a smile. She asked, ‘What if I don’t feel cheerful in three days?’

‘Then we’ll stay a week. I’ll inform your Mami and take you. You don’t have any exams or anything in college, do you?’

‘There’s no need to inform anyone! And forget about college too. I can go, Bhabi, but I won’t come back. I just don’t like it here. Sometimes I think I should take my own life, or run away somewhere! I’ve been very depressed the last four days.’

‘Are you out of your head? An educated girl like you, why on earth would you take your own life, eh? Won’t you be stuck in hell if you did so? Haven’t others loved before! Are you the first one? Can you tell me what’s happened?’

‘I don’t know. I can’t tell you what’s happened! I think I have been wronged. Only Allah knows! I don’t have a mother, nor a father or brother. I’m very scared, Bhabi! I can’t tell anyone about what’s happened. No one at all.’

After saying that, Riziya began sobbing loudly. Reshma was dying to find out the real reason behind her tears. But because she was unable to fathom that, she failed to find the appropriate words to console Riziya. She knew that Riziya’s uncles were not behaving properly with her. Was that the reason? Or had there been further bad blood between her and Imam Saheb? Was it the forced marriage to Raqib that had broken her like this? Couldn’t she stop the marriage somehow? Did she finally have to accept Raqib? Reshma couldn’t figure anything out. Nevertheless, she skilfully pretended to understand Riziya’s anguish, and consoled her, saying, ‘Be strong, Rizi. How can a girl like you simply weep? It’s us who ought to weep, pagli! Just think about our fate! Everything will turn out right one day, just you watch!’

Actually, in her short lifetime, although Riziya had learnt to recognize people’s character, she hadn’t been able to recognize the person dwelling within a person. Every person carried another person within. That inner person created relationships – inner relationships. That could be a bad relationship, or it could be a good relationship. Riziya relied greatly on her self-confidence. She had thought that if she explained her feelings to Raqib, he would definitely understand the matter. She had hated Raqib ever since her childhood; she had disregarded him completely. But now she thought that she needed Raqib. After all, Raqib too was human, he too was intelligent. So she could try to talk to Raqib at an appropriate moment. She did try a few times in the last two weeks. But his foul language and intemperate speech had pained her. Nevertheless, Riziya did not lose hope. Ten days back, Raqib had told her, ‘All right, I will talk privately with you. Everyone has been invited to Rahman Da’s father-in-law’s house on Wednesday. No one will be at home. Come to my room, and I’ll listen carefully to what you have to say.’

Raqib had grown up thinking poorly of Riziya. When her mother, Jamila, arrived at Sadnahati with her child, Riziya, and took shelter there, Jamila’s cousins were not very pleased. She would be a hindrance to their taking over her father’s property. After much consideration, it was the allure of property, rather than blood ties, that ensured that Jamila was not ignored. They had thought, after all, how long would Jamila survive? Once her only daughter grew up, the problem would be solved by getting her married off.

Jamila, too, passed away. The child, Riziya, was then a part of her Chhoto Mama’s family. Kalu Miya’s wife, Raqib’s Ma, always viewed Riziya as an unwanted and unnecessary bother. As if she was afraid that this girl who had suddenly appeared might become a part of the household. Raqib had grown up with the notion that Riziya was actually not a part of his family; she was an orphan, who was being raised in this Miya household. And so, she could be made to do anything. When Raqib was in his teens, Riziya was a child. He used to order her around constantly, and if she refused, he would hit her. The two sisters-in-law, from the two families, had many altercations because of this. Raqib never accorded Riziya the respect due to her. His mother had played a major role in shaping him in this fashion. It was Raqib’s mother’s indulgence that made him turn out to be a rowdy. Many of his misdeeds were forgiven, thanks to blind affection. When Raqib grew up and observed Riziya establishing her rights, he tried to impose his authority over her. But he was defeated time and again by her obstinacy. Every time he tried to keep her under control, he was cut down to size. Riziya was no longer a child, she was a young woman now. If the social conditions or privileges without which a person could not realize their full individuality were deemed to be rights, then Riziya merely wanted to claim her rights. Examples of such rights were her refusal to sell off her mother’s property to Rafiq Ali Sheikh, or submit to her uncles in regard to her marriage to Raqib.

It was difficult for Raqib to accept such audacity on the part of a female. His temperament became even more violent after he heard about Riziya’s relationship with Imam Saheb. It had occurred to him many times to go and humiliate him. But he couldn’t gather the courage. Because he had merely heard about the relationship and had no real proof. Besides, youths like Raqib were not really accepted by the community. They were not brave enough to speak against the imam. If there wasn’t adequate evidence, the community would instead fault him for slander. One usually took out one’s rage on someone who was weak, not someone who was empowered.

In Raqib’s view, the sole reason for his family’s uncertain future was Riziya. Because of the suit filed by her, an injunction had been obtained on the property – the land could not be sold. Which meant that his plans to go to Dubai were stymied. He had given up all hope. But when he heard from his father and uncle about the proposal to get Riziya married to him, he had actually been pleased. He would now be able to smash all her arrogance. It was over their wives that people of a hateful mentality exercised all their dominance. As soon as he was married, she was bound to listen to whatever he said. It was this vain thought that had reassured him all these days. But Riziya had not agreed to that. She wasn’t heeding the wishes of even her guardian, Salaam Miya! So Raqib was in a terrible fury as regards Riziya. And he could think of no means of dousing that. Like interest compounding, his fury was mounting.

The old two-storey house had separate stairs on the two sides, but the roof terrace was a shared one. And that was like a vast field. Riziya had gone up to the terrace late in the afternoon to fetch the clothes that had been hung out to dry. She was startled when she suddenly noticed Raqib there! He was sitting in a corner of the terrace, smoking ganja, and blowing out a cloud of smoke. He hid the chillum the moment he spotted Riziya. But he hadn’t acquired the ability to conceal the smoke. Riziya wanted to collect the clothes and leave, without expressing any surprise. Raqib stood in her way. His eyes were bloodshot. There was something dreadful about that. Riziya said, ‘Move! Let me pass.’

‘You said you wanted to speak to me. Tell me now.’

‘I don’t have the time now. Wait till Wednesday. Move out of my way now!’

‘Hey, sure, but what’s the hurry? Tell me what you’ll say on Wednesday right now, Rizi!’

‘Hey, will you move? What can I say to a ganja addict? Make sure you are not stoned when we speak. Remember that.’

‘What the hell! I know what you want to say!’

‘What’s that?’

‘You don’t want to marry me, isn’t that it? I know you hate me!’

‘Oh! I see you know everything! But there’s more to it. I’ll tell you on Wednesday. Move now.’

Riziya made to leave. She had a pile of dry clothes in her hands. She pushed him away with a shove. Raqib lost his balance and fell down. He got annoyed. He got up and stood in her way again, and said, ‘Hey, listen! Where are you off to? Get it in your head that I’m definitely marrying you. No fucker can stop that! Does that fucker Maulana Saheb think he can marry you and grab the property? Take it from me, I won’t allow that to happen!’

‘Stop your stoned blabber! The property…’

‘You think I’ll sit quietly after you choose Maulana Saheb for a husband? I’ll thrash that fucker till…’

Riziya controlled herself. Raqib was like a violent animal. She was frightened. She said, ‘Listen, you won’t be able to understand anything now. If I explain it to you, you’ll understand. I can’t marry you. How can I do that? We’ve grown up playing together since childhood, you are my Chhot Da. Is it proper?’

‘That means it’s like I thought. So you won’t marry me, is that it? And when did I become your Chhot Da? You never called me that! And are we blood relatives that we can’t get married?’

‘I’ll explain it to you. Move now. Let me pass, Chhot Da.’

Riziya gave Raqib another hefty shove and left. All he could do was shout, ‘Okay, go, but don’t call me Chhot Da again. I’ll speak to you on Wednesday. I won’t have anything that day either.’

It was Rahman Miya’s wife’s brother’s wedding. Everyone in the family had left yesterday for the bride’s house. Raqib was all alone at home. It was Wednesday today! He had had a plan in mind since yesterday. He would tell Riziya what he wanted to do – he would tell her everything. He was clear about one thing: he would have to change himself if he wanted to get Riziya. He also knew how Riziya would respond. He knew that she would never marry him under any circumstances. He could not allow the one he had lusted for since his teens, that little girl, to scorn him now that she had grown up, humiliate him and get away with it. It wounded his masculinity. Today Raqib would make a request to Riziya, using all his skills of persuasion. He would vow to her with folded hands that he would give up all his wrong ways from today. No intoxicants – everything was off from today. If Riziya agreed, Raqib would learn to live in a new way. Begin to dream of a life of dignity and honour like any other person in the community. If Riziya earnestly refused, Raqib would employ his secret alternative plan as his final weapon.

The afternoon had gone by. Like in the middle of the night, this time of the day was somehow devoid of any clamour. People rested in their respective rooms after finishing lunch and took a nap. Raqib waited for Riziya. They were supposed to speak privately. Raqib’s room was on the first floor. After a short while, Riziya entered his room with her usual air. Raqib smiled out of courtesy and said, ‘Come, Rizi, sit down. Sit on that cot.’

‘I won’t sit. Let me just tell you what I have to say. I have been meaning to tell you from a few days back. You mustn’t prevent me.’

‘Tell me! What do you want to say?’

‘I want to say, get the obsession of marrying me out of your head. I plead with you, I cannot marry you. If you yourself tell Chhoto Mama that, I’ll be highly obliged. And as regards the land, you too will get a share of that.’

This was what Raqib had expected. He was silent after Riziya spoke. And then he said, ‘But that benefits only you, Rizi! What about my benefit? Rather, you get the obsession with Maulana Saheb out of your head. Who knows anything about him? Why such love for a stranger! No one knows whether he is a bachelor or a married man! Have you ever been to his village house? How could you just know him superficially and fall into his trap, Rizi? I know about many such fraudulent maulanas who get married twice. A wife in the village and one here! It’s so common!’