Esha and Isa

Chapter 2

Present Day

I’m completely dreading this wedding. I enjoy weddings and I’m completely thrilled for Ruqaiya but it’s the people in the gatherings I’m not too keen on. It’s not only the weird stares Isa and I get, which, by the way, make me want to gauge peoples’ eyes out. It’s more specifically who I’m going to meet.

My father has one older brother, an older sister and a younger sister. The sisters hate us. The brother, my uncle, is a good man. At least he approved of my marriage with Isa’s father. The sisters, on the other hand, tried to steal my father’s land only a couple of years after his death. That’s one of the things that brought me to Pakistan.

I’m happy I’m going to see my uncle.  He helped fight the case when my aunts were trying to take over this house I live in and the lands in which I grow a few essentials.

I love gardening; I get it from my dad. Isa hates it like his father. He doesn’t want to get dirty gardening. I’m a little disappointed in his lack of interest in growing anything. I mean, the village is advanced and everything’s available in shops but home grown, organic food tastes so much better. Why waste the opportunity to grow things at home if you have it?

I don’t have fields of crop like some of my neighbours do. I have a few simple things such as onions, garlic, tomatoes, potatoes, peppers and other things growing in the fields behind the house. It’s enough to manage on my own. I knew if I ever decide to grow fields and fields of crops, my neighbours would help me maintain it just liked they help others in the village. I love this closeness everyone has. If only everyone was as accepting as my neighbours are.

“This hijab? Or this hijab?” I ask my four year old son. He just shrugs. “I’ll go with this once then.”

“I done my homework. Can I go play now?” Isa asks.

“Show me.” Isa brings his piece of paper in which he has messily written some of the Urdu alphabet. “Now write the English one as far as you know it.”

“Mama! Can I play first?”

“I just gave you a bath Isa. You’re going to get yourself dirty. We only have,” I check the time “Isa, we’re getting late! Hadia’s going to be here any second! Forget the alphabet,” Isa cheers up for a second before I continue, “Let me wash your face, you’ve got chocolate all over it!” I wash Isa’s face while he scowls at me. Then I change his clothes and wrap my hijab around my head. While I’m securing my niqaab, I hear a knock on my door. I quickly rush to the door. “Asalamu’alaykum.” I say, opening it.

“Wa’alaykumsalaam. Ready?” Hadia asks. Grabbing my bag and Isa’s hand, I walk to Hadia’s car. I sit at the back after I say salaam to her husband, Khalil. Every time I see him, I’m reminded of Isa’s father. They used to be very good friends before… I shake my head, ridding them of any negative thoughts. I’m going to a wedding, a happy occasion. I should think happily.

We set off to the wedding, with me constantly fussing over Isa at the back.

“Mama, I’m thirsty,” He says as I wipe a bit of chocolate I missed when washing his face.

“We’re nearly there.”

“I’m hungry too.”

“I said we’re nearly there.” Only a little while later, Isa says,

“Mama, I need the toilet.”

“Everything has to happen in the car.” I hear brother Khalil chuckling.

“We’re nearly there Isa. Not long to go now,” He says. When we get there, I try to smooth the creases out of Isa’s shirt. As soon as we step out, he says,