The Fallen Widow

32. Proposal of Peace

A choir of subtle singing voices uplifted the mood in the grim haveli. Today, Choudhary Shah Nawaz would officially propose to Emaan. A promise of happiness, joy, and beating of drums. Upstairs, Emaan fought off her maids who combed her hair, dressed her wrists in glass red bangles preparing her for the auspicious meeting. Born on a diet to loathe Choudhary Dilawar-Baksh and his family, how could she accept the proposal and marry into their household. Was this a punishment?
The maids buzzed around her with muted joy etched on their face, Emaan would be Princess of Jahanpur. It was written in her fate to marry the prince of Jahanpur. She stepped away from the mirror and her eager maids and shook her head.
"This is wrong."
Holding a comb in her hand, Razia raised her eyebrow at Emaan. 
"They'll be here. Hurry!"
Emaan's stomach twisted in worry. What if he comes face to face? What would she say? How would he sound like? Would she have to reply? Surely not. They wouldn't allow him to come upstairs and break the promise of her veils? After all,  it was merely a meeting, it was forbidden for a gher mard to look at her.

Emaan stomach growled once again. This morning she puked up her tea and biscuits in the toilet. Her body was betraying her. What was happening to her? Outside in the hallway, maids dusted the walls, scrubbed the floors whilst singing wedding songs, their bangles jingling with their voices. After many years of death, sadness and mourning, celebration greeted the morose gates of the haveli. It was a blessed day.
"Shut your fat mouths!" Downstairs, Emaan's grandmother, Reshma, spat her blood red spit into the bushes.
"Get on with it!" She looked around at the haveli. The walls were cleaner and whiter than before.
"These stupid girls are ten steps ahead. There is no promise we will accept this rishtha." Reshma had no intention of giving her precious granddaughter away so easily. But Emaan's mother, Jamila, glared at her, she had other ideas. Her daughter would be the queen of Jahanpur. Two warring sides would finally be together, her daughter's future secure she would bear the future sons of the province. This wasn't a rishtha, this was an offer of a lifetime. Jamila was determined to solidify the chance of a lifetime.
A loud knock on the gate echoed through the haveli walls.
"Choudhary saab is on his way with his mother." His booming voice filled every corner of the haveli stimulating the maids into a frenzy. Emaan rushed to the bathroom clenching her hands into fists. 

****

Back at sang e mar mar haveli in the servants quarter, Sai baba sat on the straw mat cross legged tucking a piece of chappati into his lentil and bean curry. He chewed on the right side of his mouth as he owned precious little teeth. Food was a luxury. On his travels he would survive on a diet of wild berries, fresh fruit plucked from trees and fresh spring water.

Meh'r Bano arrived to the servant quarters carrying a straw basket full of green apples on her hip. Sweat dripped from her forehead along her temples. Since this morning Geena followed her like shadow piling tasks on her shoulders and waiting for her back to break.
"Where do you want these?" Meh'r-Bano held the basket up to Geena who sat crossed legged on the kat tucking into a greasy halwa puri, shoving a bite in the left side of her mouth.
"Who told you to bring green apples?" Geena scoffed with a mouthful. "Take them back!"
"But you-"
"Take them back!" Geena munched wildly. "Didn't you hear me?"
Meh'r-Bano was certain Geena wanted to make her life miserable. She lifted the heavy basket with a heave and rested it on her left shoulder. A stray green apple bounced from the basket and fell on the floor rolling down towards the straw mat towards Sai baba. Meh'r-Bano put the basket down and made her way towards Sai Baba as the apple stopped near the mat. Meh'r-Bano kneeled down and took the apple.
"Salaam Sai Baba." She greeted the old man. He was well known around Jahanpur and seen him a few times. 
"How are you?" She took the apple in her hand and waited for an answer. Sai Baba was known for his little words, and lack of eye contact. After a short pause, Meh'r stood up and turned. "Puthar oi." Sai baba called out.
Geena eyes rounded. Why did he call out to her?
"Ji Sai Baba." Meh'r-Bano replied with respect and made her way towards him and kneeled.
"Sai Baba." Gena yelled like he was deaf. "Eat and go!" She pointed with her fat fingers at the gate.
"What is your name puthar?" Sai Baba looked at Meh'r-bano's forehead, he rarely made eye contact.
"She's a servant!" Geena yelled. "She's nobody!" Meh'r-Bano was disgusted with her attitude. Sai Baba was elderly and well known for his poetic verses he sang at the shrines, up and down the province.
"Meh'r-Bano." She looked at Sai Baba. His face was carved over his skin, his skin damaged from the sharp rays of the sun as he sat in the sun for hours. His neck was decorated with beads of tasbeeh's layered in various colours of red, blue, black, brown. Sai Baba took off a beaded black and brown tasbeeh and held his hand out to her.
"Take this. Recite, Ya Lateef one hundred and thirty three times."
Meh'r-Bano listened attentively and took the small, hand made tasbeeh. She didn't think much of his instruction, but felt obliged as he was elder, spiritual man.
"Your road will be long and arduous. You must remember to recite Ya Lateef." He pointed to the tasbeeh and took a swig of water. Another maid arrived and handed him his parcel of chapatti wrapped in colourful napkins for his travel. She'd replenished his leather drinking pouch.
"He is praying for you-his prayers behind your back." Sai Baba stood up wearing the strap of his leather water pouch.
"Who?" She looked up at Sai Baba hold the tasbeeh.
Baba grabbed his stick, ready to resume his travels.
"Who sai baba? Who will be praying for me?" .
"Your father." Meh'r Bano's skin pimpled.
"No- he can't be Sai Baba. He's dead." Meh'r-Bano noticed Geena's eyes were on them. 
Sai Baba and tapped his stick on the floor making his way towards the gate leaving Meh'r-Bano in confusion. She tightened the tasbeeh in her hand looking at Sai Baba for answers she rushed behind him.
"What do you mean?"
"Ya Lateef! Ya Lateef!" Sai Baba chanted the names of the Almighty with the tap of his stick and limped out of sight plunging Meh'r-Bano in quandary. What did he know about her father? How did he know he was alive? Which journey would be arduous?
"Why are you standing there idly!?" Geena burped and stepped off the kat.
"Hurry. We have hundreds of mouths to feed. Hurry!"
Meh'r-Bano wore the tasbeeh on her wrist like a bracelet and lifted the basket of apples.