From Sorrows to Joy
Chapter 34 of “Hold On”: Peshawar 2017
(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.)
On a pleasant morning in March 2017, Hira woke up in her apartment to a panoramic view of the Margalla Hills. It was a time of transition, as the winter season gradually gave way to a blossoming spring. This transformation, sudden in its onset, was made pleasant by recent rain showers on winter nights.
Safe in the cocoon she had made for herself, Hira savored the comfort of her bed as she instinctively reached for her phone, expecting a message from Ahmed. The screen lit up; Ahmed had sent her a goodnight text late last night. She responded, asking “Good evening! What did you do today?” These messages had become second nature to her, a daily ritual that helped them keep in touch and lessen the ache caused by the physical distance between one another.
Ahmad responded swiftly, which made Hira smile. He told her in detail how he had just wrapped up a meeting in San Francisco with potential investors. They had discussed the development of their new AI product, aimed at revolutionizing driverless cars. Ahmed reported that he was hopeful, as the investors’ response had been quite encouraging. He could sense that they would get back to him with good news.
“Hira, I’m thrilled. They were nodding and smiling throughout; it felt like they were genuinely impressed and interested in what we had to offer. I’m keeping my fingers crossed! Right now I’m heading back to Redwood City on the BART train. What about you? What are your plans for today?”
In the privacy of her own apartment, Hira’s face lit up with pride at this good omen she had received so early in the morning. Surely a successful meeting meant that their plans were on track, and a bright future was in the process of materializing. She replied, “I’m so happy for you! Let me know how it goes when they get back to you! In a bit, I will get ready for work, then I’m leaving for Peshawar in the afternoon to attend Sadia’s wedding festivities. Her mehndi is tonight and the wedding is tomorrow.”
“I’m so happy for Sadia, I hope this new chapter in her life brings her all the joy in the world. She deserves it” Ahmad texted.
Warmth spread throughout Hira as she thought of Sadia, and Ahmed’s kind wishes for their mutual friend whom he had not met in ages, but remembered fondly. “Yes, she surely deserves the best things in life. She was the first and only source of comfort and stability I knew before you came into my life. I owe a lot of what I am today to Sadia. And to you of course”.
“You too are an incredible person, Hira. Never undermine yourself. I’m so fortunate to be part of your life, and I’m sure Sadia feels the same about having a friend like you.”
“That’s so kind of you to say. The feeling is mutual! So, I have already wrapped the gifts I got for both of them, and have included both our names on the card with our best wishes.”
Ahmad was deeply pleased to know that both their names would be on the card. It made their relationship seem legitimate and validated in the eyes of society. Even though they were not married yet, he was happy that Hira didn’t care and that she regarded their relationship as something that went beyond just a marriage contract. Of course, that too would come eventually. Unable to voice his joy, he simply sent Hira the emoji they most commonly exchanged, hoping she would understand how happy her simple gesture had made him.
As they signed off, Hira advised Ahmad not to work too late, “Go to the gym, have a nice dinner, and get a good night’s sleep.”
“Roger that, boss,” Ahmad replied humorously.
With their conversation concluded, Hira rose from her bed and freshened up. She slipped into a shalwar kameez, a white pair of trousers with a dark blue shirt sporting light embroidery, which her mother had gotten specially tailored from Peshawar. After getting ready, she made her breakfast — a standard Pakistani omelette with onions, chilli, and spinach, coupled with a cup of black coffee. A far cry from the rich breakfasts that Pakistanis were famous for, this simple meal had, over time, become Hira’s preference.
Just as she was preparing to leave the apartment, her phone buzzed. It was a call from her father, and made Hira instinctively feel uneasy as it was unusual for him to call at this hour. Their calls were typically reserved for evenings, taking into account her busy mornings. Hira felt her heart sink as she answered the call, with a premonition that something unpleasant had occurred.
Picking up the phone, Hira instantly knew she was right, as she detected an unfamiliar weakness and sadness in her father’s voice.
“Hira beta, your uncle passed away a few hours ago. We just got the news,” he said.
Hira stood there, stunned. The news hung heavy in the air, followed by silence from both ends. Feeling numb, Hira promised her father she would drive to Peshawar, pick them up, and proceed to Kohat together. As her father went on to talk about organizing and financing the funeral arrangements, Hira went back to her room and changed into white attire, appropriate for a funeral. She packed her car with the wedding clothes and gifts for Sadia, and set off for Peshawar.
Hira knew she should feel upset. After all, he was family. Her mind began to travel to the unsettling memories of her younger uncle’s narcotics addiction, which had cast a looming shadow over her childhood. Despite of her efforts, she couldn’t halt the flood of tainted memories that began to resurface. The mental images of her uncle abusing his wife and children for money to fund his drug addiction. Her cousins, who were stripped of a normal childhood and robbed of educational opportunities, and forced into early marriages, while she lived her life on her own terms.
While thought of how lucky she had gotten with Aftab Khan as her father. He had fought everyone, his family and their society, so his daughter could live her life on her own terms. Hira had pursued an undergraduate degree and started a job in Islamabad, while her four female cousins, each barely 15 years old at the time of their marriage, had given birth to four or five children each.
Her father had frequently had to intervene, rescuing his younger brother from the clutches of law enforcement, as her uncle would often face arrest for drug-related offences. Despite his efforts and financial support, her uncle’s life spiralled deeper into the dark abyss of addiction.
The last time he was taken into police custody was from a drug dealer’s house. While the dealer managed to bribe his way out, her uncle couldn’t afford to do the same. The lack of drugs and appropriate medication for his various health complications, coupled with the harsh realities of jail, led to his untimely death at the age of 45 whilst in police custody.
The drive to Peshawar was imbued with a deep sadness, as Hira thought of memories that were bittersweet at times, and outright depressing at others. Her uncle’s drug problem had started when he was still a youth, and its influence had transformed him into a different person altogether. He had played lovingly with Hira and his own children on his good days. Had taken all the children out for ice cream at times. Despite the violence she had witnessed, Hira couldn’t help but remember the moments he’d hoisted her into the air, and had always caught her in time, ensuring she was safe.
She contemplated how her uncle’s life, and the future of his family, might have been different with proper rehabilitation, support, and resources. With an aching heart, she thought of his youngest children, two girls who were just reaching adolescence, and two boys who were younger still. Her heart clenched as she imagined what their life would look like now, having lost a father at such a young age.
The journey was uneventful, and for the most part, Hira simply motored through, not paying attention to her surroundings. As she reached home, a sense of dread overtook her. To see her father in this state would surely take its toll on her.
As she entered the house, she saw her father on his usual seat, his head hung low. As he looked up and rose to greet her, Hira suddenly felt grown up. Here she was, sharing her father’s grief, knowing that he was too fragile now to carry the burden alone. They shared a heartfelt hug, tears flowing freely in their shared grief. Soon, they were towards Kohat.
In the midst of all the chaos, Hira managed to text Sadia, regretfully informing her that she wouldn’t be able to attend the mehndi ceremony. However, she hoped to make it to the wedding the next day.
Sadia, understanding Hira’s predicament, sent her prayers for the departed and assured Hira that her presence at the wedding wasn’t obligatory. But Hira, despite her grief, assured Sadia that she would do her best to attend.
Arriving in Kohat, Hira found herself amongst her cousins, all weeping for their father. She saw her older sister there too, and noted how years of early parenthood had aged her cousins and siblings prematurely, across the board. With four to five children each, they seemed to be in their late 40s even though they were much younger. Their faces were drained, lacking the youthful lustre one would expect from people so young. Yet, the stress of birthing and then raising so many children had taken its toll, both physically and mentally.
She also recognized some faces from school, too. People she had never been friends with and who had often bullied her, and made her life miserable for many years. The air was heavy with despair. For Hira, the shock of it all was too overwhelming, and she felt a desperate urge to escape. Observing her distraught younger cousins, Hira made a mental promise to contribute financially to her aunt every month. Even so, she knew she could never replace their father.
After the burial, they all gathered to spend the night together, bringing up memories of the departed. They talked about his childhood, his grand dreams, and his ill-fated association with a nearby drug dealer who lured him with small cash rewards for drug deliveries. They spoke about his first arrest at the tender age of 14, which led to his descent into drug use whilst in jail. Hira listened to their tales and couldn’t help but wonder about the series of unfortunate events that triggered her uncle’s downfall. She couldn’t help but think that if maybe, her uncle had been extended support from society, or from the government, this terrible fate could have been avoided. After all, despite his addiction and consequent issues, her uncle had a good, kind heart.
The following day, as she discussed plans of her departure with her father, she saw with alarm, how much he had been aged grief; despite being only in his late 40s, he now looked like a man of over 60 years. Her father agreed that she should go to Sadia’s wedding, but he planned to stay behind for a week or so to meet with relatives who would visit to pay their condolences. As the older brother, he would have to shoulder this burden.
Hira drove back to Peshawar with a heavy heart. Upon reaching home, she took a shower and dressed in a simple outfit, unable to bring herself to wear the maroon dress she’d originally purchased for Sadia’s wedding. She was in no mood for makeup or any form of extravagance, as it felt disrespectful given the situation in Kohat. Yet, despite her sadness, she couldn’t miss Sadia’s wedding. Her plan was to spend an hour at the wedding venue, offer her congratulations, and return home without being too social. She simply did not have the energy.
At the wedding, she hugged Sadia. She looked radiant, and though this was a big milestone in her life, Sadia took the time to comfort her. Hira found herself momentarily distracted by the joyous ambience of the wedding. Sadia wore a white wedding dress, an unconventional choice in Peshawar, where brides typically wore red lehengas adorned with intricate embroidery. Perhaps more than her beauty on this momentous occasion, Hira admired and had immense respect for her friend’s independent thinking.
Many of their school and university friends were also in attendance. Hira found a spot on the women’s side of the hall; the wedding was segregated as per the local customs of Peshawar and other such conservative places in the country. They chatted about Sadia’s wedding dress and love story, expressing their admiration while some lightheartedly expressed envy. Eventually, however, the conversation turned towards their own lives.
Hira was upset, but not entirely surprised to find out that many of her friends, despite their computer science education, were either unemployed or not working after marriage. Many had been forbidden from working by either their parents or husbands, while others had tried and failed to secure a decent job. Others were just waiting at home for suitable marriage proposals from decent families. Hira knew her firm was constantly in need of new talent, and here she was surrounded by her educated friends, who were perfectly capable yet unemployable. She felt a renewed gratitude for Ahmad’s guidance, which had significantly helped her in forming own career.
After spending some time with her friends, Hira decided to leave. She walked up to Sadia who was seated on the stage, placed the gifts from her and Ahmed in a pile, and passed on Ahmad’s congratulations and well wishes. Sadia, being aware of the recent tragedy in Hira’s life, kindly suggested that she spend time with her family. Hira felt herself well up at Sadia’s understanding, before she nodded and took her leave. She was truly happy to have Sadia in her life.
