Content Warning: Slight mature scene
Ramlah
The small flat was bustling with young girls and women. Laughter and merriment could be heard. Girls were adorning henna on their hands. Women were gossiping over a cup of tea. Mithai and muffins were being shared among them. The atmosphere was of happiness, festivity but what was I feeling? Frightened, hopelessness and anxiety.
I sat frozen as my hands and feet were being decorated in henna designs by my closest friends. I remorsefully scanned the room. No one knew what was hidden in my heart. I felt I was being sacrificed, manipulated and used for the worldly gains. There was a constant ache. I was still hesitant whether this was the right decision. I had not expressed my inner chaotic battle to anyone not even to my closest friends or sisters. Everyone thought I was in a shock to have a quick wedding. Nobody realised that I was being forced into this union. No one cared as to what I want or desired. My head ached, my heart constricted and my eyes brimmed with tears, I frantically blinked several times. But the stubborn tears trickled down my cheeks. I wanted to hide the tears from everyone around me. I wanted to be left alone.
I was sitting with my arms spread as Amal and Manal meticulously applied oriental henna designs on the hands. I had my knees drawn up awaiting for my feet henna to dry. I laid my forehead on my knees desperate to conceal my emotional outpour. A sob escaped my lips.
"Ramlah?" Manal stopped applying the henna and cautiously touched my shoulder.
"hmm.." I didn't bother to lift my head.
"Are you okay?" she whispered.
Sighing I turned my head towards her still resting on my knees, "ya, just a little tired."
She narrowed her eyes and continued to stare at me as if trying to gauge what I was thinking. She moved a little closer to me, "is something bothering you?"
Her eyes were boring down mine. I tried to speak to reassure her but nothing came out. Instead, tears were flowing now. I was weeping. Abruptly, Amal halted applying henna as well. She started rubbing my back to calm me. But the tears would continue.
Sana had just walked into the room when she saw the emotional scenario. She tapped on Amal's shoulder and scooted near me.
"Girls, let me speak to her. Give us some privacy." Sana instructed.
Nodding my friends and sisters moved out of the room.
Cupping my face in her hands and wiping the tears from my cheeks with her thumbs, she asked softly, "What's the matter Ramlah?"
"I....I..." my lips quivered and more tears trickled down my cheeks.
She hugged me and in that moment I felt someone would understand. She was married she would know what I was going through. I just knew I had made a new close friend.
"I am scared" I whispered resting my head on her shoulder.
"It's natural for a bride to be nervous," she replied while soothingly rubbing my back.
"I don't know Fahd gives me some negative vibes." I murmured.
She stilled in her act of calming me. "it will be ok. Fahd is..." she cleared her throat and continued, "Inshaa Allah it will be ok. His family is really good. Saad always tells me. And we will be neighbours. I will always be there for you if you need any help."
I pushed myself from her arms and smiled ruefully, "Thank you that means so much to me knowing someone caring is close by."
She smiled back and squeezed my arm tenderly, "Come on, no more outbursts. You will worry everyone. Cheer up inshaa Allah you will be happy."
"Inshaa Allah" I whispered back doubtfully.
****
The dreaded day had arrived. It was to be my wedding day. I had mustered all the courage and happiness carrying on to deceive the people around me that I was happy. But I was fearing of what was to come in a couple of hours. The blood red Pakistani designer wear wedding gown lay on my bed. It was beautiful and magnificent. A traditional bridal dress with gold zardosi and Swarovski diamonds work. There were gold high heeled sandals with it and lots of jewellery that included red and gold glass bangles. There was traditional gold jewellery set comprising of a heavy necklace, earrings and a ring. I had never worn authentic gold jewellery before. It was exquisite with diamonds, rubies and pearls. My fingers traced the delicate designs of the large earrings. Aunty had said the jewellery was family heirloom, it was her mother in laws. Indeed it was antic piece of art that would make any girl feel like a princess. Except me.
For a simple wedding, aunty sure had gone out of her way to get all this for me. Apparently according to Mama, I was special to be her beloved Fahd's wife. I exhaled, from the looks I had seen the day I had met him he hardly cared what or who I was. And then another face flashed in front of me. Those concerned eyes searching mine for answers that I was not able to utter. Even at the café he seemed as if he.... He... cared. But there was no point thinking of Fadil. And I should stop thinking of him from now on, I silently scolded myself. All my thoughts, worries, concerns, desires and affections were only for Fahd. I just prayed he would replicate those feelings with due time.
I heaved looking at my attire for the day. I had to get ready now. Gently, I picked the flowy heavy wedding gown, loving the smooth texture of it. Time had come to enact my decision.
****
I stared at the mirror unable to believe the reflection looking back at me. It wasn't me. It seemed like a rag doll dressed in expensive clothes and jewellery ready to be sacrificed. My sisters gushed at me.
"Api, you look gorgeous."
"The ideal desi bride"
"May Allah keep you away from the evil eye. May He bless you with happiness, ameen" Mama supplicated as she scanned my appearance one last time before handing me the abaya to wear. As I dressed in the abaya Baba came in the room.
I looked at him expectantly. There were no emotions on his face. He seemed aloof. May be he was trying to conceal his emotions, I mused.
"I am here to seek your consent for the marriage, I will be representing you in the masjid." He announced.
I wasn't expecting this. I thought he would ask me in the masjid. I nodded slightly and gulped the emotions that clogged my throat.
"Do you accept Fahd Mirza as your husband for the appointed Mahr?" he asked.
I stared hard at him, then my gaze moved to Mama who eagerly awaited my response and then to my sisters whose innocence reflected from their faces.
Eyes brimming with tears, I whispered, "I do."
****
"Mashaa Allah" exclaimed my would be mother in law as she entered the ladies section of the masjid. Sauntering towards me with gleaming eyes and a beaming smile I felt somewhat comfortable knowing she will be a motherly figure in this new phase of my life. She held my hands in hers and lovingly squeezed them. My eyes were downcast, with her fingers on my chin she tilted my face upwards. I fluttered my eyes and looked into hers. Smiling broadly, "Fahd is very lucky, mashaa Allah" she kissed the top of my head. Before I could react the women hushed as the Imam's voice echoed in the masjid.
I wasn't listening attentively, I was too nervous to concentrate but when the words that changed my status from a daughter and a sister to a wife were announced I wasn't able to hold back. Clenching my hands until my nails were stinging my palms' skin and eyes closed fearing someone would notice my unshed tears I heard those final words.
"Sadiq Khan, has your daughter Ramlah Khan accepted Fahd Mirza as her husband with the appointed Mahr?"
"Yes she has"
"And Fahd Mirza, do you accept the appointed Mahr?
"I do"
"Do you accept Ramlah Khan as your wife?"
"I do"
I was a married woman for all the wrong reasons.
****
The wedding party was held at Fahd's home as the house had a big backyard and aunty had urged that it would be best not to burden my parents. Fahd never came to meet me after the nikkah. Instead, aunty and some of her friends assisted me to the car that was waiting near the women's section of the mosque. Aasiya was still by my side, she was being emotional and didn't want to leave me. She held my hand for support. Her touch was soothing my fluttering heartbeat. My eye lashes were lowered as we strode to the car.
"Api, is that Fahd bhai in the navy blue suit?" asked Aasiya in a hushed tone. She wasn't present at home when Fahd had visited last week and she was curious to know her brother in law.
I looked straight ahead and there stood Fadil with .... Fahd. I was shocked. If so many people were not assisting me I would have tripped on my dress and abaya. What was he doing here?
"Is he?" Aasiya whispered. I shook my head tersely.
"Oh the one in a blue shirt and black pants then." She said disappointedly. I subtly nodded.
I was confused. What was going on? How did they know each other?
When we neared the car, aunty stepped forward and took my hand and placed it in Fahd's. He held my hand loosely and reluctantly.
"Mashaa Allah such a lovely couple." She complimented and I heard others adding their praises.
She then gestured to Fadil who had stepped back, "Ramlah, meet your brother in law Fadil." She beamed. "And Fadil your bhabi"
Brother in law? Fahd's brother? Astounded, I looked his way but he didn't meet my eyes instead he curtly nodded and left. SubhanAllah, what did this mean? The first guy I had genuinely thought was nice was my brother in law now. This was going to be more awkward than I thought. First, bearing a husband who was not interested in me and then a brother in law who had helped me a few weeks back. My gaze turned to my hand joined with Fahd's and then I discreetly observed him, he wasn't even sparing me a glance. In fact, he was happily chatting with one of the aunties. He doesn't care I thought solemnly. May be he was forced into this as well I pondered as I felt his grip on my hand slacken and his hand sliding away from mine.
****
The wedding party passed by in a blur. I was seated in one of the black leather sofas in Fahd's living room where one after other women came to greet me and gift me. My cheeks and jaw hurt from the continuous fake smiling. I was exhausted by the ordeal. Dinner was served. I had no appetite but I forced myself to eat a little. There was no sign of Fahd. I don't know whether I was disappointed or relieved.
My friends were teasing me in a good natured way.
Nawal sat beside me and whispered, "Bridal jitters eh?" she giggled.
Manal eyed her, "Stop making her nervous."
"Whaaat? I am not doing anything." She pouted.
Manal huffed not believing her.
"Well, I have to go now so I thought I would say good luck for tonight." She winked making me blush. Chuckling, she left.
"Don't mind her. And don't worry I am sure Fahd bhai will take care of you." Manal said squeezing my hands reassuringly. For some reason, I doubted that but I smiled anyway.
One by one the guests left and the time had come for me to be taken to my new room. A room I was to share with Fahd. I was afraid. Would he even look at me when we are alone, he had ignored me until now. Time will tell, I sighed.
****
I was very nervous. That was an understatement. I had no idea what to imagine. In fact, I had no clue what to expect from this man – a stranger and now my husband. It seemed since nikkah he did not even once speak to me. I was self-conscious. Was there something wrong with me? Did I offend him? I had no idea what to do. I patiently sat on the king sized bed awaiting my husband.
I waited and waited and waited. Finally, around one in the morning, I stood up and went to the suitcase that was standing by the dresser. I opened it and took out my night dress. I wasn't going to be wearing anything seductive that my friends had gifted me. I would feel more comfortable with my modesty. I sank down on the dresser stool and skimmed through my reflection. I know I wasn't beautiful but I wasn't that bad looking that my husband would ditch me on the first night. I sighed and started unpinning the hijab. When the hijab was loose I was about to undo my hairstyle when abruptly the door opened.
There was only the night table light on. Even in the dim light, I knew who had entered. Fahd. My husband. Our eyes clashed in the mirror's reflection. His piercing gaze scanned me from top to bottom. Slowly he sauntered toward me like a lion heading towards its prey. I don't know why I felt trapped. Something was definitely troubling about the way he was looking at me.
When he was right behind me I turned around and looked up at him. I wasn't wearing my hijab anymore. I did feel self-conscious but there was no point to wear it. He was my mahram now. He had the right to see my hair. He bent down twisted one of my loose curls in his finger. My heart was hammering hard. I could hear the pounding in my ears. All this time we kept staring at each other's eyes.
"So this is the wife my mother got me."
I abruptly had a sick feeling. This was not right. This isn't how it should be.
He came even closer until our noses touched and his breath fanned my face. There was a slight weird smell in his breath. Then, it hit me. He had been drinking.
"Let's see how much you amuse me."
***
My phone alarm rang. It was fajr time. I swiftly took the phone and switched it off immediately. I was lying on my side of the bed. My back towards Fahd. He was fast asleep. I did not even blink my eyes for one second all night. I was emotionally drained and physically exhausted and sore. I had never considered that things will go this way. I had not resisted him. It was his right after all. There was no point. He was too strong and had been drinking. I was worried he may harm me. But I had not expected him to be so ... so... so... rough. It was torture. There was no affection, there was no adoration or care. I felt violated. I was just used as a body. And when the deed was done he turned on his side and went to sleep as if it was no big deal. Fresh tears trickled down my eyes and unto the pillow. All those hours, I had been silently crying, the pillow had become wet.
I exhaled and sat up. I turned around to check whether he was sleeping. He was sound asleep. My head was hurting as I headed to the bathroom. When I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror I was shocked to see my face. My eyes were red and swollen. My face was pale and my neck ... there were red marks everywhere. More tears threatened to spill. I took a deep breath and splashed cold water on my face. What happened last night? It was as if I had lived a nightmare. I turned to take off my clothes and saw blood smeared on my thighs. I regretted that I didn't stop him. What was the point? If I had made him angry where will I go. Baba will never allow me to go back home. He had clearly said his doors were closed for me now. I had not even a single cent to my name. None of my friends lived independently, they were all living with their parents. I had just accepted my fate.
There was no point crying over spilled milk. I tried to compose my emotional state as I stepped into the shower. The warm water soothed the physical scars I silently prayed Inshaa Allah with time my soul will heal too. I will work hard to make things better. It's not like I had any other choice.
Glossary:
Mithai – Subcontinent sweets made out of cottage milk, sugar and ghee with variety of flavours.
Bhabi - brother's wife
Fajr – dawn prayer
SubhanAllah – Arabic word for Glorious is God.
Sooooooo???? Speechless? Tell me what you think? What do you think of Fahd? Some may think this was a little harsh but believe me this happens a lot in real life where men think of their wives only for one purpose. I would love to know what you think.
I have come across a great book Unknowingly His – a Muslim's love story by @Niqabii_Muslimah please do check it out :-)
Please do vote and comment I eagerly await for them
Until next time
Assalam u alaikum