The Quest

Nazish returned from the school and slumped into the chair. “You seem really tired beta?” Amman asked lovingly. “Yes”, she replied briefly. She had lost in a deep thought and was constantly making circles with her index finger on an armrest. “Is anything bothering you Nazo?” Amman looked worried for Nazish.

“Amman can you tell me who my real mother was?” Nazish asked gazing at the wall in front of her. “No, I have no idea about that and why don’t you forget this issue… the more you’ll think the more it’ll bring pain and distress to you.” Amman was clearly irritated by her question.

Nazish was brought up in an orphanage. As a child she had never realized that she was living in an environment totally different form the outside world. She had always thought of Safia amman as her mother and the other children as her friends and siblings. She could have thought so all her life but one day she overheard Safia amman and the sweeper talking about her. She was found wrapped in a towel and lying on the garbage in the posh area of the city. Then someone dropped her at the orphanage. She had been living in a blissful ignorance till the age of twelve but that conversation had stormed her innocent mind with innumerable questions. She wanted to know who her mother and father were and why they dumped her.

The years went by, Nazish grew up and after completing her education she had started teaching. She moved in with Safia amman. She was a childless widow. Safia would adore children but despite being so fond of children she couldn’t produce any of hers. She saw many doctors, Hakim even quacks but no medication proved helpful. She had accepted the fact that she was barren, when one day the doctor asked her to get her husband checked. She requested and coaxed Ikram for the whole one month to get his tests done and after an elaborate checkup the doctors diagnosed him with testicular failure. He had had a non-treatable defect. Ikram felt like a criminal. No man can accept the fact that he can’t give his woman an offspring.

‘You must be thinking that you have ended up with a namard (impotent)’, he said bitterly to Safia one day. The asperity of his tone broke something inside her.

‘You know I can’t live without you, so why do you think like this. Safia quietly said.

Since beginning Safia had taken special care of Nazish. It was indeed her selfless motherly love that bonded them in a very strong relationship. But still there was something that would invariably bother Nazish. She wasn’t a twelve years old child anymore… she knew what sort of kids are dumped at the garbage, in a drain, in the solitary corner of a park or in the fields. She had no identity. She was 25, but she had not found a good match yet just because when people would come to know about her past, they would simply back off. How could those so-called respectable people accept someone’s illegitimate child as their daughter-in-law or wife? That day when she returned from the school, amman refused to talk further on that issue but Nazish was determined to find her real mother… the woman who was responsible for her existence in this world.


The big, gazelle like eyes of Nazish had carried strange sort of stillness. She was about to embark on her quest as this was becoming her madness but she didn’t know where to start from, whom to ask. She had tried asking amman a number of times but she had never given her any satisfactory answer. As the days went by, the frustration to find the reality was getting high. Nazish’s relationship with amman was plunging into coldness. Nazish thought her responsible for withholding the truth.

After much deliberation she decided to begin her quest from the orphanage and question the senior most workers there perhaps they might shed some light on it. She met up with Azra who was in her early sixties; her grey, silky hair had made her so graceful. Nazish knew quite well that Azra had many acquaintances in the city.

Azra was quite glad to see Nazish after such a long time. After exchanging pleasantries Nazish broached the subject. Azra didn’t prove helpful in the beginning but she succumbed to Nazish’s constant imploring. Actually, Azra knew that man and his family who had brought Nazish to the orphanage but years ago on Safia’s humble request Azra promised that she would never tell this to Nazish or to anyone else. Since beginning Safia wanted to adopt Nazish, in fact it was she who named her “Nazish” (The Pride) and she didn’t want to lose her ever.

Nazish was elated to find the address of Rashid, her savior. Without wasting any time she got the taxi and went to see him. She reached that area within half an hour and it didn’t take her too long to find his home. But she was disappointed to learn that the family had moved somewhere else a few months ago. She asked the woman, who had answered the door if she knew where they had gone. The woman went inside; after a while she returned with a telephone number written over a piece of paper.

“That is their telephone number; you can contact them.” The woman said and closed the door.

Nazish made a call from her cell phone. A boy who seemed in his teens from his voice answered the phone.

“Is this Rashid sahib’s home?”
“Yes.”
“Can I have your address…? I went to your old place but I was told you have shifted.”
“Sure.”

Nazish then asked for Rashid but was devastated to know that Rashid had passed away two months ago. She couldn’t believe her fate… she was so close to finding the truth but once again her luck had deceived her.

“Surely we are Allah’s and to Him we shall return” She whispered and replaced the receiver.

She was baffled when she entered her home. Amman had gone to the neighbor’s place. She lay down on the bed in a semi-dark room. She thought painfully why the quest to know her identity had become so tantalizing. She felt as if she had been moving in a labyrinth trying to find her way out; the way that could get her to the end of her quest and maybe to her real home too.

“Why a woman who dumped me after birth would welcome me after all those years.” She thought bitterly.

“But I have to know the truth what if she didn’t want to part with me but someone else threw me away without her knowledge.”

Nazish hoped that thought to be true. She was not ready to believe that a mother could be that cruel to commit such a gruesome act of dumping her own child.

She was entangled in her thoughts and didn’t realize that amman had come back. Amman was very worried for Nazish these days. She wanted her to settle down and was searching for a suitable match since sometime. But the more worrying thing was that amman knew what Nazish was up to. She was afraid of losing her and her experience was telling her that she might harm herself.

“Nazo? What are you doing in the dark? Are you alright? She asked sweetly.

“Leave me alone amman… I am okay.” Nazo almost yelled.

“Nazo, mind your tone… you are talking to your mother…” Amman said painfully.

“What mother? You just brought me up means you owned me.” Nazo said with contempt.

“Nazo…” Amman could only say that much as Nazish’s venomous tone and attitude had brought tears to her eyes.

Amman was quite disturbed by Nazish’s behavior. She had been thinking about what had gone wrong in Nazish’s brought up that she was behaving that way. “Is it because she is not my blood…” But suddenly she averted such thoughts because although she had not given birth to Nazish but she loved her like her own child. The rosary beads were moving swiftly between amman’s index finger and thumb as she prayed for the Divine help and sighed.

Nazish felt as though her soul had been trapped in a small, dark box; and there was no way out of it. She finally made up her mind to meet Rashid’s family. Perhaps someone could soothe my restless heart. She thought.

Nazish rang the door bell with a trembling hand. Rashid’s widow, Parveen answered the door. She seemed startled to see Nazish. She kept looking at Nazish with her blurry eyes for sometime.
Then Nazish broke the silence, “I wanted to see Rashid sahib; but I am really sorry to hear about his death.

“You have come from the orphanage?”

“Yes, but how do you know?” Excitement was evident from Nazish’s tone.

“I knew the moment… I set my eyes on you.” She said dreamily.

“How, please tell me… I want to know everything about my past.” Nazish beseeched and then she broke into tears.

“Huma belonged to a very rich family and she was the eldest of three sisters.” Parveen started saying and then continued. “In University, when she was 21 she fall in love with her class fellow Kamal. Their intimate relationship resulted in Huma’s pregnancy. She blindly trusted Kamal that he would marry her but he bowed to parental pressure and went abroad leaving all the mess behind. When he left, Huma was into fifth month of pregnancy; the only option was to bring the child into the world. Human was devastated to know this.

Rashid was a driver while I was a maid at Huma’s house. Huma was fully aware of giving birth to a normal baby girl. But she loathed everything related to Kamal. She was clear about it since beginning that she wouldn’t live with that stigma all her life.

On their way back to home from the maternity hospital, Huma asked Rashid to stop the car in the dark alley of their area; she got out of the car and put the baby in the trash can. Rashid was stunned to see that but he didn’t dare to say anything in front of Huma. That was the most unbelievable scene but that was true; if love can blind your eyes; hate sure can blind your heart. When Rashid dropped Huma at home; he went back to that trash can because he couldn’t see a baby die like this. The baby was fast asleep amid all the waste and filth. Rashid picked her up and dropped her at an orphanage. Rashid told me everything when he came back from the orphanage.” She finished saying.

Nazish’s face reflected all the pain and agony she was going through.

“I have one last request… please give me Huma’s address.” Nazish said with a broken heart.

“Beta… this is not possible. She is married with kids; if she came to know that I have told you everything, God knows what she will do to us. I have served them for thirty years… I can’t do this.”

Parveen finally gave in to Nazish’s heart-rending appeals but with a promise that she would never mention her name in front of Huma.

After a couple of days Nazish was standing at the gate of Huma’s mansion. The name plate with golden letters read, Nashayman Huma. (Huma’s Residence)

The private security guard let Nazish in when she said Huma madam is expecting her. With dusty shoes, weary eyes and burdened soul she entered the aesthetically adorned drawing room. After a while a woman in her late forties entered. Her expressions changed at once when she saw an ordinary looking girl. But what struck her the most was that Nazish had remarkable resemblance with her. They greeted each other; Nazish’s heart was pounding, she had no idea where to start from; then she looked up and said, “Life is too strange, full of almost unbelievable twists and turns. You just don’t know when your past come knocking at your door. 26 years ago I was not into existence; then 25 years ago when I was a little and helpless baby, someone tried to write death in my fate by throwing me in the dumpster. Why did you do this to me Mrs. Huma… why?” Nazish looking straight into Huma’s eyes asked.

“What the hell you are talking about?” Huma’s voice was trembling with rage. She got up from the sofa; Nazish sprang up from her seat in a spur of a moment. She took out a double-edged dagger. She pushed Huma back into sofa, put the long silver blade of dagger on her neck and said, “Don’t test my patience anymore Mrs. Huma; I have been burning in an agonizing fire; all I want to hear is the truth from you.”

Huma told Nazish everything that she had already heard.

Nazish’s grip loosened on Huma’s shoulder and said, “I wish just once you step into my shoes; you would realize how it feels to be brought up in an orphanage and to live a life full of insecurities without the warm hug of a mother and a protective shadow of a father.”

A few tears rolled down Nazish’s eyes and before Huma could have informed the security guard; she left hurriedly. She wanted to go away from Huma; from her home as soon as possible. There are times you visit some place with a heavy soul and come out feeling so light. Nazish felt as though someone had removed a heavy slab from over her mind.

Nazish entered her home; for the first time in many months she was feeling so good entering her home that was amman’s and her small heaven. Amman was sitting at her prayer mat; rosary beads were swiftly slipping through her fingers. Nazish went to her and sat quietly beside her.

“Amman I am tired… very tired; I have covered the journey of 25 years in those three days. A woman gave me a birth; a man saved me from dieing but you gave me everything; love, name, care and all those things a child needs the most while growing up. I owe you everything. I am sorry for all the misbehaving… I truly regret it.” The pearl like tears were shining in her eyes.

“Amman.” Nazish continued, “I can’t imagine hurting you; you mean a lot to me… indeed you are my first love.” With that she leaned down and kissed amman’s toes. Amman who had been holding her tears from sometime starting sobbing and she hugged Nazish. Both of them felt as light and happy as a bird; that had just been freed from a cage.