Every Woman Suffers Such Abuses
Chapter 5 of “Hold On”: Chamkani 2010
(N.B. I’m writing a novel, a chapter a week, here on Medium. Find out why I write here, start from Chapter 1 here, and always feel free to give me feedback in the comments. I write here for the community.)
It had been raining for three days. This monsoon season was the most vicious one in recent history. The streets of Chamkani, which usually got inundated after even a brief spell of rain, were now buried under a foot of muddy water. At Aftab Khan’s house, Hira’s brothers were busy trying to drain out the foul-smelling rainwater laced with sewage from one of the rooms. Hira was helping her mother throw out the buckets of water that they had been using to prevent another room from being flooded by a dripping crack in the roof. Watching her kids labor away to save their house from giving in to the monsoon, Nosheen Khanum could not help but wish her husband had chosen to stay back in Kohat, where they had the support of a large and somewhat nosy extended family. Unlike Peshawar, they also had a wood fire to cook on, which meant they were not dependent on unreliable electricity and gas connections — both of which had been out since the rain started.
Around 7 PM, Hira heard the familiar sound of her father’s motorbike outside the house. She joined her mother at the doorstep, both saying a silent prayer of thanks to see the man of the house return safely in this weather.
Aftab Khan parked his motorcycle under the shed in front of the house's main door and got off it, shivering and soaking from head to toe.
Nosheen immediately handed him a towel she had brought along, asking him to change his clothes while she rushed back inside to bring hot tea that she was preparing on an old gas cylinder. Aftab gratefully accepted the towel, wrapping it around himself. Hira was surprised to see him so calm, as they were used to him entering the house muttering in anger, after being soaked on his way back from work for the past two days. She was even more confused when she noticed him smiling at her. Aftab then took off a bundle of shopping bags from the handle of his motorcycle. He brushed off the waterdrops from the topmost shopping bag and carefully began untying the tight knot that had saved the inner contents of the bag from much of the rain. After a lot of wrangling, while Hira stared at her father in confusion, he retrieved a misshapen box which had “Jan’s Bakers Confectioners & Sweets” printed across it in bold, pink letters. This was one of the oldest and most iconic bakeries in Peshawar. Being pricier than others, it was a kind of local status symbol and frequented by the upper class of the city — certainly not a place that Hira’s family visited often.
Aftab held the box with both hands and went inside along with Hira. In the small living room, he called out for his wife and children, as he placed the box on the table and opened it. It was a classic pineapple cream cake, which had been a family favourite for special occasions. Under the dull glow of the gas lamp, the cake looked radiant, although a part of it had smashed in during the rainy motorcycle ride. It was covered in white cream, with red cherries and pineapple pieces arranged along its circular top. In the middle, in bright red font, the cake read: CO G ATS HIRA
Hira looked up at her father quizzically. He was beaming at her, as he announced that Hira had gotten an A+ grade in her higher secondary school exams, with a percentage of 90% which meant she could go to any university in Peshawar and most likely on a merit scholarship. He said that the colleague whom he had requested to check Hira’s marks also told him that Hira would get a free laptop from the government. Hira froze; this was too big of a shock for her to comprehend instantly. After a moment of silence, her mother started excitedly thanking God, and Hira let out a little shriek before turning towards her father and hugging him. Her performance in the matriculation exams two years ago had been good for someone with the resources and background she had but had not been outstanding. However, it made her family, especially her father, realize her academic potential and they had been quite supportive of her studies ever since.
After the initial round of hugging and prayers, Hira cut the cake and served everyone. Nosheen was disappointed they did not have chai to go with it, as the old gas cylinder which had been their last hope had died down. But nothing could dampen her spirits today, she told her family. Now that Hira’s result was out, and she had performed so well, Nosheen was positive that Hira would have a chance at finding an acceptable match. Until now, Hira had received only one proposal. This was from her cousin, Nosheen’s nephew, who was a truck driver. Nosheen’s sister proudly narrated how her son had bought the truck in instalments and was now earning a thousand rupees daily. She reminded Nosheen of Hira’s curly hair and dark skin, which meant no family would want her to marry their son and advised her to get Hira married to her son before it was too late, and this single proposal has gone too. Nosheen’s sister made no efforts to hide what she thought was the brutal reality from Hira either and would often tell her to knock some sense into her parents and push them to marry her off. Her words always hurt Hira, even though she had become accustomed to hearing such comments. Nosheen, however, was inclined to agree with her sister, and lamented the fact that her husband had ordered her to not entertain any proposals until Hira’s F.Sc result.
On the day of the result, however, Aftab seemed less interested than ever in discussing his daughter’s marriage. Seeing her husband’s reaction did dampen Nosheen’s spirits, who had been waiting for this day for months. Instead, her husband was now telling the family how he intended to take Hira along with him to his office to meet his director. When his colleague was looking up Hira’s result, news spread quickly in the office, and everyone congratulated Aftab. Sometime later, he was called into the director’s office. Aftab being a junior clerical employee, this was a rare occurrence. The director asked Aftab about his daughter, her interests, and the subjects she had chosen for her F.Sc. She told him Hira should consider enrolling in a computer science program. This field had a lot of scope and Hira could soon be earning more than the director herself. Aftab was shocked hearing this and thought it was a bit of a stretch. Nevertheless, upon the insistence of the director, he agreed to bring Hira to the office even though he had been reluctant about it initially considering the local customs. He never observed any male staff or officer being visited by their wife or young girls to offices.
Nosheen scoffed and declared the whole affair to be a waste of time. However, her husband reminded her of their daughter, Nazish. She had always been a sore spot for Aftab and part of the reason why he was adamant to do things differently for Hira. Nazish had been married off by Hira’s parents when she was 16. She did not get to complete her education and was never allowed to pursue any kind of employment outside the walls of her in-laws’ house. Her in-laws were frequently abusive towards her, and there was nothing she could do to help herself. She refused her parents’ help as she was committed to making the marriage work — the alternative was too big a taboo to even discuss. She always told her parents how she wished she had completed her education, as earning for herself and her husband would have significantly eased her domestic pressures.
Nosheen said that these things were normal, and that she would be fine once her son is grown up. Every woman suffers such abuses during the first decade of their marriage and then things settle. This nonchalance and mindset disturbed Hira greatly. She wished her mother would be on Hira’s side, even if the whole patriarchal world was against her. She had grown up hearing demeaning comments about her appearance and her marriage prospects, but it hurt the most when they came from her own mother, repeatedly. It shattered her confidence a little more, each time. It was only after moving to Peshawar, that things had become a little better, as she could concentrate on her studies and let go of the problems that had plagued her family in Kohat.
Aftab refused to listen. He told her every man in KP would want to marry Hira if she earns a lac rupee a month after going to university, as the director had informed him. However, even this failed to convince Nosheen. She was infuriated and got up to leave. Before storming off, she warned Aftab, that when Hira is 25 and unmarried, he mustn’t expect Nosheen to hunt for matches in her family. Rejecting her nephew’s proposal would not only cast doubt over Hira’s moral character but also effectively shut out Nosheen from her family.
Aftab sighed as Nosheen left. He then turned towards Hira and told her to be ready at 7 in the morning. They would be going to see the director.
