Where to Stay on Your Honeymoon
Chapter 35 of Hold On: Islamabad 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.)
Hira decided to visit her family back in Peshawar. She missed her mother’s cooking, and felt it had been three weeks since her last visit. She made the journey home on Friday, planning to return on Sunday. Though it was a brief visit, Hira returned feeling troubled. The trip stirred up her childhood memories. She had come home to find her mother lying in bed, her head wrapped tightly in a dupatta. This was highly unusual after hearing the news of Hira’s visit home, as Nosheen would typically busy herself in the kitchen and cook Hira’s favorite meal, in her excitement, yet today she lacked the strength to even stand. As an adult, when Hira witnessed her mother’s unusual state, her mind began to put the pieces together, and make sense of past episodes that were similar in nature. She realized, now with age and experience on her side, that her mother had been suffering from periods of depression.
As a child, Hira believed these episodes were caused by the financial stress in which the family often found itself, or, in her childish innocence, she believed it was the stress caused by Hira’s birth and the fact that she was born out of wedlock. This misbelief seemed the only explanation for why Hira looked different from her siblings as she was bullied in school for this reason, and it profoundly impacted her life for many years until she learned that a genetic mutation was the cause behind this difference. By the time she found out, this misunderstanding had taken quite a toll on her, robbing her of a carefree childhood and adolescence.
Now, however, Hira was mature enough to sense that her mother’s symptoms were characteristic of chronic depression, a diagnosis her mother would neither accept nor seek professional help for, saying, “I am not pagal.” Alarmingly, Hira could also see the clear deterioration in her mother’s health caused by both age and emerging complications of kidney disease and arthritis. But today, her mother wasn’t the only parent in low spirits. Her father too was mourning the untimely death of his brother, and was concerned about the future of his young nephews and nieces.
Hira spotted her father waiting outside the family home as she arrived. He opened the gate for her, and Hira parked her car inside before stepping out.
“Assalam-o-Alaikum, my dear beti. I hope your journey was pleasant,” he said.
Hira embraced her father. She had missed him immensely, perhaps due to anxiety caused by her uncle’s sudden demise. She considered kissing him on the forehead, but decided against it, as it wasn’t a customary gesture in their family.
Hira’s brothers were in the lounge, and they greeted her with hugs. She brought chocolates for her two youngest brothers and a book for the eldest, who had completed his undergraduate studies in International Relations and was now preparing for the Central Superior Service (CSS) exam. Each sibling happily accepted their gifts.
Her youngest brother handed her a glass of water, which she gratefully gulped down before heading to her mother’s room. She sat on the bed, hugging her mother and planting a kiss on her forehead. Her mother smiled, returning the affection with a deep kiss on Hira’s cheek.
“Amma, I miss you too much in Islamabad. I always look forward to my trips to Peshawar,” Hira confessed.
Her mother replied with the same enthusiasm, saying that she too waited eagerly for her return. “I wasn’t well and couldn’t cook for you today,” her mom said.
“No worries, Amma. I’ll cook for you today. You’ll be proud of my cooking. I’ve been experimenting a lot in my kitchen in Islamabad,” Hira assured her.
Hira’s mother squeezed her hand tightly and said, “That sounds wonderful. I’m so happy.”
Hira spent an hour in the room with her mother, talking about everything and anything she could think of. She inquired about her health, daily routine, and medications, Nosheen had been on kidney and arthritis medication ever since Hira had taken her to see a doctor in Hayatabad. Concerned, Hira suggested that her mother take slow walks in the nearby park in the evenings and modify her diet to optimize her health. As Hira expected, Nosheen agreed with Hira’s advice, barring the idea of visiting a psychiatrist.
Hira also asked about her older sister. Her mother explained that her eldest daughter only called every few weeks, as she didn’t own a phone, and her husband didn’t allow her to speak to her family frequently. Her sister’s children were now attending school, and she was busy caring for them, her husband, and her elderly in-laws. Her own health was deteriorating, but she couldn’t visit doctors for checkups, as her husband insisted on accompanying her, but he often disappeared for weeks on end, under the guise of business trips. In many ways, her sister had simply given up caring for herself, as it was not worth the hassle. This deeply saddened Hira. She felt powerless to help her sister. She yearned for her sister to visit her in Islamabad, but knew wasn’t feasible for her to travel with such young children, each barely a year apart, notwithstanding the issue of seeking permission from her conservative husband. After her sixth consecutive child, her health had taken a turn for the worse and doctors had sterilized her to prevent further complications.
Hira then inquired about her maternal aunt and other relatives. Her mother shared that many of her siblings were arranging marriages within the family. The cousin who had once wished to marry Hira was now married to another cousin and had a son. Hira quietly thanked God for the fact that she had emerged from the difficult phase of life wherein her mother was pressurizing her father to arrange Hira’s marriage to the same cousin, immediately after her matric exam.
As their conversation began to dwindle, Hira got up, letting her mother know that she going out to spend time with her father and brothers before starting in the kitchen. She changed her clothes and sat in the lounge, cuddling her ten-year-old brother, who was always excited to see her. He was the only one who would eagerly share his school stories, which Hira loved hearing. She felt proud of how different his school life was, compared to her own upbringing in a joint family with its own issues, not to mention the bullying she had faced in school.
Her older brother, Shafiq, reported that his preparations for the CSS exam were going well. He was busy rote learning texts and making lengthy, detailed notes. His bookshelf was overflowing with books on Pakistan’s history and current affairs, written by unknown men who claimed to be experts at the CSS exam, and who boasted about knowing the system inside and out. Shafiq’s aspiration was to join the police service of Pakistan for the power and prestige it would bring to the family. Hira didn’t agree with his perspective on life, but decided not to voice her disagreement, choosing to let fate take its course.
After getting updates from her father and brothers, Hira moved to the kitchen. Her youngest brother accompanied her, expressing a desire to cook alongside her. Hira was taken aback, delighted to see his interest in cooking, which was highly unexpected from any man in her family. Working in the kitchen was solely considered a woman’s duty, and Hira pondered on what had motivated her younger brother to take up this interest; nevertheless, she was pleased to see him exploring his own interests, independent of their family’s expectations. Hira found that he was quite at finding spices, and knew where most of the ingredients were. When she asked how he knew where everything was, he admitted that he had been helping their mother in the kitchen, as she recently had recently been feeling unwell. Hira was moved by his concern; no other male member of the family had taken it upon themselves to assist Nosheen in her domestic duties, as it was far from the norm for men to ‘interfere’ in domestic tasks. She felt a pang of immense gratitude that her younger brother had decided to defy the odds, in favour of easing their mother’s burden.
Hira cooked Peshawari-style namkeen chicken, incorporating capsicum in line with her newfound love for vegetables. Her family generally preferred mutton dishes, but Hira’s tastes had shifted toward vegetables during her time in Islamabad. She found they were healthier, cheaper, and easier to cook. After cooking, Hira asked Shafiq to bring naan from the market. Their mother usually made the rotis herself, but she was in no state to do so today.
All the family members enjoyed dinner together. Hira’s mother suggested they visit Karkhano Market the next day to buy some items for the house and for Hira’s apartment in Islamabad. Hira was pleased to see her mother so optimistic about her health. Her family asked questions pertaining to her work, and Hira was happy to oblige, telling them that she thoroughly enjoyed it and was making good progress.
After dinner, Hira’s father joined her in her room, clearly seeking a private conversation. It was evident he was struggling to find the right words. Eventually, he asked, “Hira, my dear, what’s the status of your relationship with Ahmad? When are you getting engaged?”
Hira was caught off guard, but responded smoothly as she had nothing to hide, “We’ve been discussing that,” she said. “Ahmad is ready for marriage if I’m willing to relocate to the US. However, I won’t leave all of you here, so we’ve decided to wait. He will work on his startup and return to Pakistan in two years. We’ll marry then.”
“Oh”, Hira saw Aftab’s face fall slightly. “That’s quite late. Why don’t you consider marrying sooner? You know I worry about you often.”
“I understand your concern, but please don’t worry. I’m content with my job and enjoying my work. It’s okay to wait. Times have changed.”
They continued talking for a while. Hira was pleased with her father’s willingness to listen to her with an open mind, not imposing his own timeline on her, yet still voicing his concerns as was entitled to him. Then, bidding her Khuda Hafiz, her father left the room.
Now finding some space for herself, Hira texted Ahmad, asking, “Hey, what’s up?”
“I’m at my apartment. Slept late. I confess,” he replied in a light-hearted tone.
Hira sent back a dinosaur emoji to symbolize her faux annoyance at his late sleeping habit.
“Sorry, boss. I’ll do better,” he responded. He was clearly feeling playful. Hira found herself smiling despite how tired she was.
“I’m in Peshawar visiting my family. So I’ve been caught up with things here.”
“I hope your parents are doing well.”
“Yeah, but they’re ailing with age. I need to visit them more often and ensure they go to the doctor. You know what parents are like about their health.”
“I understand. I wish them good health.”
“Thanks. So, what are your plans? How’s your startup coming along?”
“It’s progressing well. Lizzy is coming by tomorrow. We’ll be meeting a few investors over the next two weeks for pitches.”
A familiar unease welled up in Hira’s stomach.
She replied after a while with a simple “Ok,” and then added, “I’m tired after travelling and cooking. Let’s talk once I’m back in Islamabad.”
“Ok. Take care of yourself.”
“You too, bye.”
Her thoughts took a turn for the worse. Images of Ahmad and Lizzy together began to swirl in Hira’s mind. What would they be doing together? She pictured Ahmad showing Lizzy around, playing the role of tour guide, and sharing his extensive knowledge about each spot in the San Francisco Bay Area. Her thoughts began to veer beyond their professional relationship. Having looked up Lizzy on social media, Hira knew she fit the traditional Pakistani standards of beauty: tall, fair-skinned, and blonde. Despite her curiosity, Hira never dared to send Lizzy a friend request, not even on LinkedIn. Yet there was so much she wanted to know. What kind of person was she? What were her intentions regarding Ahmed? Did she want something beyond a business relationship? Suddenly, Hira snapped herself out of it. This line of thinking would get her nowhere, and would stir trouble for no reason. Shaking off her insecurities, she buried her face in her quilt, willing herself to sleep. Her mind, however, kept wandering to the Bay Area, imagining Ahmad and Lizzy exploring the city.
The next morning, she woke up eager to visit Karkhano Market with her mother, wrapped up in her usual white shawl, and eager to put last night’s overthinking behind her.
After spending two days in Peshawar, Hira returned to Islamabad, her mind full of reflections about her family and the unsettling news of Ahmad and Lizzy spending time together in the Bay Area. The insecure thoughts had resurfaced, and she couldn’t help but envision them visiting the Golden Gate Bridge.
Monday morning in the office was somewhat strenuous for Hira. Although physically in Islamabad, her mind was still lingering in Peshawar and the Bay area.
In the early afternoon, she received a text from Sadia, who suggested that if Hira was in Islamabad, she could come by for a visit. Sadia and Asfandyar were en route to Hunza for their honeymoon. Hira regarded this as a fortunate opportunity; she could share her concerns with Sadia, who would, as always, give her practical advice and suggest that she stay calm and think with a clear head. Hira was also eager to hear about Sadia’s initial days of marriage. She requested her boss, Shehryar, for early leave. Shehryar was generally accommodating when it came to Hira’s requests, because she was a prized employee and seldom made such requests. Still, she was somewhat embarrassed by how easily she could get away with requests that other friends in different workplaces struggled with. Times like these reminded her of how fortunate she was to be working in such a flexible environment.
Asfandyar had a meeting in Islamabad, so he dropped Sadia off at Hira’s apartment, asking her to convey his regards to Hira. Sadia invited him to join them for a while, but Asfandyar deemed it inappropriate to visit a single woman’s apartment, even with his wife present.
Meeting again after what felt like years, Hira and Sadia greeted each other warmly. While Hira made some tea, Sadia kept her company in the kitchen.
They settled on the sofa with their tea, and Hira asked about Sadia’s plans. Sadia explained that they were going by road, and planning to spend the night in Naran before continuing onto the heart of Hunza as well as Gojal. Hira knew little about this region, despite hearing her colleagues rave about their vacations there. She had never found the time or company to visit on her own. She couldn’t even fathom dining alone at a restaurant in Islamabad.
Sadia shared that they’d booked two nights at the The2Magpies Hotel in Aliabad and another three nights at Moksha Resort in Gulmit, both hotels run by couples. Sadia was well-informed, she believed that because these owners were couples themselves, they would understand the significance of a honeymoon and would go the extra mile to make their experience a pleasant one.
Sadia shared how they had spent a few weeks at Asfandyar’s home before relocating to Lahore when Asfandyar landed a lucrative job at a top software company. This was a beneficial move for them as Sadia, who had always worked from home, was currently on a month-long break.
Hira asked, “How is Asfandyar’s family treating you?”
Sadia spoke candidly, “They are kind, but it was somewhat awkward trying to fit in immediately after the wedding. You know, we couldn’t spend enough time alone, just the two of us. His parents and siblings were always around, wanting to spend time with me. We had so many relatives either visiting or inviting us over. It was quite exhausting meeting everyone, and sometimes answering their invasive questions. Some even asked about our plans for the number of children we would have in the future. But thankfully, Asfandyar always stepped in to detract the conversation. His immediate family treated me well, but we lacked privacy.”
She continued, “However, it improved when we moved and rented an apartment in Gulberg, Lahore. We spent a lot of time together, exploring the historic sites, restaurants, and parks of Lahore.”
Excitedly, Sadia shared more news. They have decided to apply for Canadian immigration and planned to move there within a year, as the process for software engineers was expedited. Hira felt a pang of sadness at the prospect of having another friend move so far away but didn’t voice her feelings; she felt she was not entitled to diminish Sadia’s joy at this exciting time in her life.
“Sadia, I have some news of my own to share,” Hira began. “I was browsing LinkedIn and came across Sana Khan, our literature teacher from Jinnah College. She’s doing her PhD at UC Berkeley. I connected with her and we exchanged our contacts. Last week we talked and she remembered both of us! She even asked about you! Sanwal is also there with her doing his PhD in economics. I told her about Ahmad living in Bay area, and she asked for his contact information. She said they’d try to meet soon, as they’re always looking to connect with Pakistanis in the Bay Area.”
“That’s great news! Please share her WhatsApp details with me; I’d love to reconnect. She was my favorite teacher, and I used to envy her relationship with Sanwal. I remember how she used to talk about their bond and share jokes about economists. Then, she’d relay his responses to us during our out-of-class sessions at the canteen.”
They spent a few hours chatting, laughing, occasionally reaching for each other’s hands, listening to each other’s stories, and planning the next phases of their lives. The conversation was comforting for both of them. Hira felt lighter in Sadia’s presence, knowing her secrets were safe and that she could open up about virtually any topic. As Sadia left to embark on her trip, Hira felt a wave of joy and gratitude wash over her, marvelling at their longstanding friendship.
