Authors: Zeenat Mahal
no fear of reckoning. Never again was she going to let anyone speak to her or treat her the way she’d
been treated by Usman, her ex-husband and his family.
She fumed and paced in impotent anger but then deciding she had better things to do, made popcorn
and watched Ice Age 2 with her son again. They were both in fits over the nutty squirrel.
The next day, Shahira received another call.
“Hello?”
Sobs and indistinct noises. Shahira sighed. Life was getting way too complicated with all the
strange phone calls.
“Shahira, I’m so happy! Hussain really liked you. Thank you, thank you, my darling, I’m so
happy...” Aunty Salma trailed off sobbing.
“Aunty, I think you’re mistaken…” Shahira began, uncomprehending.
“Oh, oh, I’m so happy! I can’t talk right now. I’ll call you later.” Still sobbing, she cut in, and then
hung up.
Shahira had not quite digested this piece of incomprehensible news when her phone rang again.
She stared at it for a few seconds before answering it.
“Hello?” she said cautiously.
“Ms. Shahira, this is Hussain.” Hastily, he added, “Kindly hear me out before you hang up on me
again—I’m a very busy man.”
He sounded irritable. Taking Shahira’s shocked silence for acquiescence he continued, “After our
last conversation, I’m of the opinion that we’re entirely suited to each other…”
Shahira couldn’t help it; she made an outraged sound of disbelief.
He pressed on, “I understand that you have as little desire to take a husband as I do to acquire a
wife. But my mother’s taken a very strong liking to you and so has Natasha and as you so patently
pointed out—Natasha needs someone to take care of her. I’m offering you a solution to everybody’s
dilemmas, including yours. It’s a…slightly unconventional arrangement, but do take it in the spirit that
it’s being offered.”
Shahira tried to interrupt, “I have no…”
“Kindly allow me to finish,” his request more a brusque order than anything else and he continued,
“Like I said, it’s an unconventional arrangement, but something that will suit both of us admirably. If
you’re as independent as you claim to be, you’ll be smart to take it.’
He hesitated for just a moment and then said in the same no-nonsense tones, “My offer is that we
get married in a purely business transaction. You’ll appear to be, to all practical purposes, my wife.
However, between the two of us, we’ll know that you are in fact my wife in name only. Think of it
as…employment. I’ll pay you a regular salary. I’ll continue to live as I do now, without any ties or
matrimonial pressures, as will you. If you agree, the marriage vows can be taken on the phone on
Saturday, since I have an hour free in the morning.”
Shahira was too shocked to reply.
After a pause he said, “Ms…er?”
He didn’t even remember her name. He had an hour free on Saturday? To employ her as a wife, no
less. Wonderful. Tally ho, Mad-Hatter.
“Are you finished?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“In that case, I’m going to hang up on you
now
.”
And she did, with great satisfaction. It was true what they said about people with money, they
thought they could buy anything. The nerve of the man! What an outrageous suggestion. In my
employment, indeed.
However, Shahira found the disturbing phone call intruding upon her consciousness again and
again. Although she’d hung up on him most self-righteously, she couldn’t help thinking about her dire
situation and wondering. Her first thoughts had been that this was a perfect example of how bad things
were for her. Men thought she was helpless and they could make any damn offer they pleased. She’d
seen enough of the world to know that her circumstances were precarious. She didn’t have much
money, and social security meant having the ‘protection’ of a man in the guise of marriage, no matter
how traumatic that may be.
She was in a serious dilemma; social constraints versus personal freedom. She didn’t have anyone
she could depend on. Financially, she was far from secure. Both her parents were dead and there was
no one else she could trust to look after Shahaan in a crisis.
And she thought,
what am I doing?
This was a tailor-made solution. After all, hadn’t she been an unpaid maid and bed-warmer in
Usman’s house? This man was offering her money and social security with no strings attached.
According to the terms of the offer, she wouldn’t have to go through the humiliation that Usman had
put her through. She shuddered in revulsion as she thought of her brief married life. He’d scarred her
for life. The physical scars had faded but the emotional scars remained.
Switching her thoughts to the present with an effort, Shahira argued with herself that it was only
sensible that she should think of a secure future for herself and her son. She was a pragmatic woman
in her thirties; moreover, a mother, and she needed to think realistically and practically.
She did, for a full week, and then decided to give Natasha’s father a call. This was just another
job, she told herself. She’d be paid to be a mother and a companion; that was all.
Et n'était pas juste parfait?
He answered on the first ring.
“Hussain,” he said in his deep voice.
“Hi. This is Shahira…Natasha’s teacher? I was wondering if you have time…”
“I don’t. I’m about to go in a meeting. If this means you want to re-negotiate the deal, I’ll call you
back.”
“Yes, I…I believe I do. I’ll wait for your call.”
She was probably out of her depth, she thought, listening to the dead tone of the phone for a few
moments after he’d cut the line. She was a schoolteacher with no money or prospects, and this man
was a globe-trotting, suave, rich womanizer, who didn’t even have time for his only child. She was
not going to let him get the better of her. She intended to drive a hard bargain. After all, a person who
could suggest such a ludicrous idea, and expect someone to actually consider it, had better be ready to
pay through the nose. And by all accounts, he could afford to.
He called at five that evening.
“Sorry for the delay, I got stuck. You’ll have to be quick because I have another meeting in fifteen
minutes.”
“I think…” she began. She’d been practicing her pitch—a sensible piece of rhetoric giving him
clear and concise reasons for her acceptance. Then she thought,
why should I
?
He’s the one who
suggested it
. So she asked instead, “How much money?”
“Two lakh rupees per month.”
“Eight lakh per month and that’s separate from the household running expenses and miscellaneous
expenditure like clothing, schooling, etcetera.”
“You seem to have rather a high opinion of yourself.”
“You’re not paying for me. You’re paying me
for a job
you offered. I do have a high opinion of my
abilities, yes. Ask your mother if you don’t believe me.”
“Three then.”
“Five and that’s final.”
After a pause, he spoke, through clenched teeth it seemed.
“
Fine
. But then make sure that I don’t have
any
complaints and that you do everything that a
mother’s supposed to do these days for Natasha. And…”
“I wasn’t finished. My son’s college fees for any international university he’s able to get into.”
There was a long stretch of silence. He spoke in a low controlled voice that indicated
exasperation.
“How old is your son?”
She didn’t give a damn. For a man who was busy, he took far too many reflective pauses.
“Eight.”
He sighed, giving in to the exasperation he’d been trying to control.
“Right, okay. I’ll open a trust fund for him that he’ll be able to use when he gets to college. Will
that be all?”
She hesitated, but then thought it was better to make everything clear.
“Just one more thing, I’m going to tell you up front and this is non-negotiable, I’m not doing any
sexual favors for you or anyone else. This is purely a business deal and you should agree to that. I’m
sure you can get…physical comfort anywhere you want. So, are we clear on that?”
After one of his mandatory pauses, he drawled, “Rest assured, Ms. Shahira, I have no sexual
designs on you.”
He sounded as if she’d made a rather ridiculous assumption. Shahira felt a little embarrassed, but
was nevertheless glad she’d cleared the air. Better safe than sorry.
“Okay then. That’s it.”
“I’ll let my mother know. On Saturday then, around noon, keep your line clear.”
And the phone clicked.
≈
TWO
Life was suddenly grand.
Shahira had a beautiful house to live in and money to spend. Shahaan had his own room, which
thrilled him, and she could finally get him all the things that other boys his age took for granted. She
could buy all the beautiful and expensive clothes, shoes and bags that she’d only touched and drooled
over. She was in retail heaven and having a ball.
She and Natasha spent quality mother-daughter time a-plenty and the girl was blossoming before
her very eyes. Within four months, she’d lost weight, was more confident, had made lots of new
friends and was beginning to develop an attitude. Ha, good for her, thought Shahira happily. She’d had
to work hard on the shy, under-confident girl, and attitude was important, as she’d learnt herself.
Shahaan thrived with a new grandmother to dote on him. Aunty Salma was pleased as punch; they
were all happier people for the change in their lives. Life was wonderful, except for the occasions
when Aunty Salma complained that Hussain still hadn’t come home, not even once, not even to
meet
his bride. At such times, Shahira, with characteristic deftness, would defend and exonerate him.
“Aaauntyyy!” she said giving her voice a lilting happy nuance, hoping to sound convincing, “You
know how busy he is and he’s so happy that he has
me
to depend on where his beloved mother and
daughter are concerned.”
“And what about you…huh?” Aunty Salma countered.
Shahira wasn’t used to such kindness from in-laws and she was a bit taken aback. Then
impulsively she hugged her mother-in-law and said with all honesty, “Really Aunty, I couldn’t be
happier. I love it here, being with you and Natasha is a gift. I really do love you both.”
Aunty Salma smiled and hugged her in turn, telling her with sincerity, “And we love you, my
dearest. You’re a ray of sunshine and you’ve brought laughter back into our lives. Before you came,
I’d forgotten how to laugh.”
And she meant it too.
For Salma, Shahira was the daughter she’d never had, and the daughter–in-law she’d secretly
wanted. If only her stubborn son would listen to her. Every time she was on Skype with him, Shahira
vanished swiftly and quietly, reappearing only when her talk with Hussain was over.
Never once did Hussain express the desire to talk to her. And when she broached the subject, he
fielded it deftly. Shahira, on the other hand, made up a story that they talked privately. They were
newlyweds, she was shy and didn’t want to talk in front of her mother-in-law
.
And what a load of
rubbish that was! All Salma knew was that this girl was made for her son, but how was he ever going
to find that out if he never came home?
The problem was that Shahira and Hussain appeared to be on the same side, which was why it was
doubly difficult for her. Shahira made sure Hussain got his way and never had any cause to visit.
She’d even insisted that the
nikaah
be performed on the phone, overriding all protests from her.
This was also the longest Hussain had ever stayed away. It was almost as if he felt less
responsible towards the two of them now that Shahira was here.
She’d tried guilt and emotional blackmail. “Hussain, people are talking.” No response. “You
haven’t even come once!”
Nothing.
“If you loved me you would come…” and even, “I’m old…ill…my days are numbered…”
He hadn’t budged.
So it was time to take action. She decided she was going to have a heart attack. The very next
morning she did; a great big whopping one too.
* * *
Shahira was running out of ruses to keep Aunty Salma from suspecting the truth. If she’d been
determined enough to fake a heart attack to get Hussain to come, she’d go to any lengths. She sincerely
hoped that one night in the hospital had cured her mother-in-law of any further melodrama.
What a fright she’d had. All she remembered was thinking,
not again, not again
. Everything was
going so well. Why did Aunty want to spoil it? Natasha and Shahaan were flourishing with full and
active lives. They were a couple of healthy, happy children and all four of them had great fun. She
didn’t want that jeopardized. Hussain’s presence would change things.
On the other hand, a short visit from him was essential for the success of their plan at this point.
There was nothing for it but to call him and tell him, she decided. Three rings and she nearly hung up,