"Why can't I try on different lives, like dresses,
to see which one fits best?"- Sylvia Plath
"So what did he say?" Adiba prods me as soon as I collapse boneless on the waiting room couch. Ali and Shehzer are also staring warily at me.
"He was just...going through a phase." I finish lamely. It is complicated, this issue with Areeb's confession. I am internally screaming, but I have to pretend nonchalance for his sake. Even though he didn't explicitly forbid me from telling anyone else (He is convinced that he will die during the risky surgery), I am not at all eager to divulge this toxic secret to my family. Ali might as well kill him for proposing to me, and Shehzer...I don't know what his reaction would be to this, but I'm assuming it will create unnecessary pain and misery to everyone else.
EMV makes a rare appearance, 'So you're willing to shoulder all that pain and misery yourself? How positively altruistic. Someone call Joan Of Arc now! she has competition.'
My motives aren't entirely self-less though. What Areeb nearly did, would have ruined my entire life, and I feel sickened and ashamed to let anyone else know that I nearly married a...well; someone like my former best friend. I can't even say it loud in public, let alone grapple with this insane idea.
I'm reminded of a couple of stories of gay men being forced by their conventional families to marry unsuspecting females. This is quite the norm here in Pakistan, where these men cave in to pressures and blackmail in hopes of "Reforming" themselves. Most often, the female will either be expected to suffer in silence in a mockery of a marriage, or else she'll take a divorce. Either way, she will be doomed, because "divorcee" is a title that will guarantee a life full of scorn, pity, and criticism being directed at her. Whenever I think about Areeb's intentions, I feel like marching into the ICU and stepping on his morphine supply. He had no right dragging me into a relationship that could have ruined me....
...But when I ponder over the implications of his confession, my lack of solid understanding frustrates me. How will he ever survive in our society?
Homosexuality in my culture, and religion, is as taboo a topic as incest, or rape. This doesn't mean that it doesn't exist; it simply means that we choose to ignore it; just like the tiny pieces of junk your mother hurriedly pushes under the couch when guests arrive unexpectedly. I remember my liberal art school classmates discussing such topics brazenly; defending the LGBT community in Pakistan. I remember being conflicted at that time, because I had no idea what the full implications for this "nature" were in religious contexts. Such is the extent of our sensitivity about it, that we don't even fully comprehend Islam's views about it.
I know that the "Act of Homosexuality" is Haraam (forbidden) and deserving of death (if committed), but what about people who are "Gay" yet fight to suppress their own nature? Surely Allah isn't unreasonable enough to punish them for something they chose to ignore? Surely it isn't their fault if they were physically unable to feel attraction to the opposite sex? Isn't "Actions" rather than "Intentions" a prerequisite for Sin?
These questions continue to confound me. Perhaps I'm hesitant to pass my own verdict on this, because I haven't experienced such a dilemma (Thankfully!) in my own life. I don't know what it feels like to be-not straight, so I can't say that it is a disease, or a figment of their perverted imaginations. For the sake of my own naive reasoning, I always evaluated genuine homosexuality like Psychopathy; it is real, and it exists. However, Just because you feel an unnatural urge to kill, and witness pain, doesn't mean that it is morally or ethically fine for you to do so. I may as well be wrong about it, but that's what my crudely constructed logic pointed at...
Areeb fought tooth and nail (albeit misguidedly) against his own nature. If he attempts to live a better life in the future, does that not make him worth saving? worth praying for?
I am simultaneously thanking Allah for saving me from a dysfunctional marriage, and also pleading with Him to save Areeb. No matter how much I hate him for his intentions, I still don't want a pained existence for him. He needs to make amends before he dies; he simply cannot go from this world in this callous manner.
We spend the next few hours waiting in uncomfortable silence. I know I can't stay with Areeb forever, and even after his surgery, he would surely need help from his own family. It seems rather heartless that they would abandon him at his hour of desperation. Then I recall that his father is a rather intensely spiritual and religious man. I wince inwardly at Uncle Tariq's anguish. To have just one son, and to find out the reality about him in such a manner, must surely be hard on anyone. Areeb was the antithesis to everything his parents believed in. The Holy Quran rightly termed children as "Azmaish" (test) for their parents.
Adiba and Ali made routine tours around the hospital area to let off some tension. I urged Shehzer to join them, but he refused to leave my side.
After an hour of tensed boredom, I decided to doodle for a bit.
I grabbed a newspaper from the coffee table at the waiting area, and tugged open my bag to search for a pencil. My heart seized for a while when I saw Areeb's gifts lying at the bottom of my tote. I smile ruefully. How poetic.
I remember stuffing the note, necklace and Minnie Mouse, in a random bag weeks ago. It seems so fateful that I mindlessly grabbed this bag while leaving for the hospital. I quickly tug it close before setting it aside, the sight of them makes me sick now. Shehzer is staring expressionlessly at me.
"Do you have a pen I could borrow?" I ask him.
His jaw clenches measurably before he mutters; "No." Strange.
"Are you tired Shazz?" I try to tease him with Rania's pet name.
He gives me a long enigmatic look before wordlessly standing up from the couch. I gape at him as he ignores me and strides out from the waiting room. What the hell is his problem now?
EMV pipes in, 'Probably having the male version of PMS. Best leave him alone with some chocolate...'
I bite my lip in worry and confusion. Is being here hard for him? knowing that I still care about Areeb?
Surely he must know that I don't care about Areeb in "That" way. I never actually did. I may not be very transparent about my thoughts, but I have always let Shehzer know that I'm marrying him because I genuinely want to. I am aware that I am not that expressive about my feelings yet, but it's because I'm not brave like him. To be able to confess your love to another (and mean it) is something I envy about him. Maybe in time, as our relationship grows, I will tell him exactly how much he means to me; but I'm not quite there yet.
I fiddle with my cell phone as my thoughts turn towards my past. The broken engagement made me wary of relationships...so why am I not screaming for the hills right now? The nuclear bomb Areeb dropped on me should have scared me into perpetual maidenhood; so why didn't it?
The only apparent answer just walks back inside the waiting lounge. It's because of him.
Even unshaven, and scruffy with the sleepless night, Shehzer makes me feel alive whenever he is near. I peek shyly at him through my curtain of curls, unsure about his mood. He settles on the seat beside me and wordlessly offers me a 12-pack of magic markers, he must have gotten from the gift-shop downstairs.
My mouth drops open in hesitant delight, "You got this for me?"
He smirks, "No. I got this for Super Mario over there." he nods at a mustached, red shirted man sprawled snoring in the adjacent seat. I giggle hysterically, even though I'm melting at his sweet gesture.
"I-" I Love you. It is at the tip of my tongue but something holds me back. Not yet. Not here. Not now. I don't want him to think my affection is dependent upon his buying stuff for me (regardless of how small they are). No! I simply won't allow it to become a precedent for us. My love for him should match the one he has for me; Unconditional. Without strings, pretension, or materialism.
"Thank you Shehzer." I playfully elbow him in the ribs. "If we were married, I'd totally hug you for it."
His eyes bug out at my words. We have never talked about this part of our lives after marriage, so it is kind of a first for us.
His shocked expression turns slightly wicked, "Just a hug, Minnie?"
I narrow my eyes in a suitably bitchy glare, "You got me magic markers dude. They're not exactly diamonds, or Burberry coats, or VW Beetles..."
His grin widens slightly, "I'm curious now. If i did get you diamonds, what would do?" My pale skin promptly turns crimson at his teasing.
"I don't like this conversation anymore." I mumble softly, plucking open a green colored magic markers to start scribbling on the ad sections of the newspaper. I deftly gave a smiling female model a mustached beard, and even scratched in a mole or two.
He chuckles at my reaction, and says something about my starting the conversation. I shrug my hair to one shoulder so that my face was hidden from him, and he couldn't see my smile.
..........
"Hey, isn't that Areeb's Mom?" Ali points towards the hallway of the hospital. I whipped around to see what he was pointing at.
I'll be damned. It was her. She looked decades older than the last time I saw her, her graying hair was hidden under a dupatta (scarf) , and her face was pale and lined with worry. She threw a cursory glance over at our seats before walking forward. I saw her do a double take, and gape at the four of us.
I wave hesitantly at her. Auntie looks stunned by our presence, as she slowly approaches us.
Hesitant salaams are delivered before she gently asks me to accompany her to Areeb's room.
"How did you know about his accident?" She asks cautiously, her desperation evident in her eyes. I squeeze my eyes shut before delivering the news.
"The Hospital called me as his alternate emergency contact. Umm, Auntie. I'm the only one Areeb spoke to. Only I know about everything. You don't need to worry about discretion, I'd rather not advertise his-uhhh-confession." I finish awkwardly, trying not to feel moved by his mother's steady fall of anguished tears.
"Beta It was big of you to be here in-spite of what he did to you. His father...well, he has refused to acknowledge Areeb as his son." She has to breath brokenly through the sobs for a while before she's able to speak anymore. "He-he- told me to leave Areeb on his own too, but I am his mo-mother. I simply can't leave him broken and helpless! I feel like he killed me, you know?"
I hug her, and try to support her through this pain but I know nothing will ever be the same for her family. The thought makes me shudder with fear. I don't ever want my own parents to go through the excruciating anguish that this woman is going through.
After she had sobbed for a good while, she thanked me profusely for being here, and tried to shoo all of us back to our homes. Everyone decided that it'd be better if we waited until the surgery was complete before leaving. Even though Auntie didn't say anything, she looked relieved that we were there to support her. She hadn't even had the nerve to call in her extended family at this time of crisis.
"Too many questions Beta...Maybe after he recovers, I'll call in for help." she had shaken her head ruefully. I think I empathized perfectly. Nobody knew better than I, how unwittingly aggravating extended family can be in painful situations.
She softly congratulated me on my engagement, and asked about the wedding. I shocked myself when I realized that my wedding was only five days away. Ma and Dad were arriving from a late night flight in a few hours, and I was eagerly anticipating their arrival. A month apart from them had been too much for me.
My thoughts are interrupted by Dr. Minwalla's arrival. All of us jump to our feet in nervousness. He looks grim as he fiddles with his sterile scrubs, a surgeon's mask covers his neck.
"Oh, you're here Mrs. Tariq? Good, good." He mutters before delivering the verdict. I throw in a last plea to the almighty to save Areeb.
"Well, the surgery was fairly successful. We managed to repair most of the nerve lacerations, so he will live." He pauses for a beat while we expel nervous breaths, and hug each other in relief. "There's bad news though...."
"What bad news?" Auntie whispers tiredly.
"I'm truly sorry for him, but some things are just not repaired." the doctor sighs as he finishes, "Areeb has lost motor functions in most of his body. As of our estimation, we're expecting paralysis of the four limbs as a result of his decapitation. He will never walk again. If he's lucky he might regain use of his hands after intense therapy, but even that would be a best-case scenario...."
Oh, Areeb. What have you done to yourself?
Author's Note:
Two Important announcements to make here!
First off, don't take my logic, or opinions to be something you should support, or dispute against. I'm not claiming scholarly expertise on the subject, so anything you interpret are simply imperfect opinions based on amateur subjective research. I mentioned before that I will try my best not to impose my opinions on this topic on anyone else, because for me, the focus of this angle is more on it's effect on Mina (and by extension, real-life women in her situation)
SECOND OFF: I have GOOD NEWS! :D
A short story "My Summer Crush" based on Shehzer and Mina's childhood was featured recently on the short story, "Crush: Short Stories" by: @Miss_atkbm
I am posting the link over here, in the comment section, as well as on my profile. Do check it out, and Don't forget to VOTE and COMMENT! Love your support for this novel! :)
http://www.wattpad.com/137321742-crush-short-stories-7-my-summer-crush
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