Pretty heart makes life pretty
Sahla wipes her mascara off her after a long evening and wondered who she would discover underneath. So did her husband.
She had been out with her sister, to get her head clear. They spend hours at the mall, got ice cream, and took tonnes of selfies.
She had been acting out every day now. She had a broken phone screen due to her recent rage.
It was somebody else every day. Like a mask that disguises a person’s identity.
She had gotten married at 15, then become a mother at 16. It made her feel left out on life. Left out of all the activities that a woman of her age deserved; getting a job, attending a class, or even going for a long walk with a clear head.
The hot cup of chai clenched in her hands; she was on edge today as well. Her grasp around the mug often spoke volumes of her mood.
The throbbing headache hadn’t left her yet. She had gone through three cups of chai within the past hour. She was trying to film a Tiktok on her phone, and the kids weren’t letting her focus. 30 minutes spent on makeup and now she was trying to look pretty for the camera.
Her youngest kid lay knocked out on the bed, his hair a messy business and arms spread out. When he took naps was the only time she could be at peace.
The older children were easy to please, a screen kept them engaged for hours at end. The hyperactive toddler, however, needed much more attention and amusement than that. He loved climbing up on the fridge, running out the gate every chance he got, and torturing his older, more sophisticated, and patient sister.
Sahla tries to ignore the older kids bickering over who took whose pencil first. Each family member was louder than the other. A sudden high-pitched noise blares from the TV, and the little boy’s eyes shoot open, who was peacefully in a deep sleep.
‘Turn the volume down!’ She yells to her husband. It is too late now, she realizes. The baby’s eyes shoot open, the monster has been awakened.
The toddler’s almond-shaped downturned eyes were wide open with wakefulness now. ‘Water’, an inaudible mumble as the older daughter walks in, demanding headphones.
Both the kids shared the almond shaped-eyes and an oval face; the only similarity between the two. The youngest had a fair complexion, bushy eyebrows, and thick lashes. Despite the strikingly similar features, the little boy had more charisma to him which was one of the reasons that let him off the hook easily.
‘Get water for Elin, will you?’
Ahna was bossed around by not only her parents but her feisty brothers as well. The older one mocked her and the patriarchy that rules the house dictated that she does most of the chores around the house. When ironically enough, the father was as much of a homemaker for the family as the wife was.
A mumble of protest escapes the lips of her guileless and obedient daughter but she gives up instantly. The toddler who was up now scratching his head of silky, untidy hair, refused the glass of water.
‘Come on baby take it’ Ahna encourages her brother, eager to get back on the recently acquired phone, trying to disguise it from her brother. She knew it would be his, the second he demanded it. The spoiled boys got to spend way more time on it than she did.
A moan of insist is all that would have taken her younger brother to acquire what rightfully was hers right now. A worse tantrum would follow if any of the family members did not oblige to his wishes.
‘Drink up’, Salah urges. Her interest in filming a Tiktok, entirely lost and forsaken now.
‘I am sure there are great things in store for you.’ Sahla comforts her oldest cousin; this was the first time she had seen Maza in tears. She had always looked up to her and confided in her as an older sister and seeing a vulnerable side to her made her heart sink.
Not only Maza but the other four siblings were very close to Sahla and they had grown up together. Maza was the oldest kid who had assumed the responsibility of taking care of everyone at a very young age.
Maza was a dentist. Her marriage had failed two times. What her corrupt society would assume is that there was indefinitely something wrong with her, her personality, her mind, or her body.
Maza had an overbearing, strong personality that neatly contrasted with a self-sacrificial nature. She always took over the chores from her parents, even her siblings never had to lift a finger if Maza was present. Sahla had never heard Maza demand what she wanted to eat, that she was tired of working all day long. After working a 12-hour shift at the hospital she would eagerly vouch to cook.
Maza had recently learned that she was infertile, she would never be able to have children of her own or even remarry in this conservative and judgemental society. No part of her regretted or felt that she was insufficient.
Maza and Sahla had spent over decades together and it was the first time Sahla had seen Maza break. Even then Sahla had not felt even a twinge of ungratefulness as she poured her heart out.
Maza never felt sorry for herself while her parents did worry for her future, her desires, but in a world where simplicity and goodness live, the present is what matters. What the heart holds matters.
What right did Sahla have to curse God where Maza was embracing every moment of her life, even after she had learned that her most burning desires will never come true.
Maza continued to carry herself with poise, cherishing every moment and selflessly being of service to others.
Maza shrugged off judgments of people who were convinced that a woman’s self-worth depended on being beautiful, married, and with children mattered more than anything else did.
What Maza and Sahla hid were hearts made of gold. What Sahla and Maza both possessed with their own accord was special; loving families and contented hearts that nobody could take away from them.
