The Gods of Her Life

Since morning Bano had cooked, cleaned, swept the floors, dusted the old furniture twice and when she glanced at the wall clock it was not yet twelve. She looked around to see if everything was done. She roamed from one corner of the house to another in search of any task that needed to be done. There was nothing left. She was free until 2 PM, the time of her husband’s return. Five minutes before his scheduled return she would step in the kitchen to make four chapattis for their lunch as per her daily routine.

Bano lay down on her bed. At 45 her agility was remarkable. Her thick black hair and well toned body were enviable. Above all her wrinkle free face and supple skin defied her age. Those meeting her the first time wouldn’t believe her real age and that would always put her in an awkward situation in the presence of her husband but she had learned how to ignore the pitying eyes.

She tried to take a nap but her mind began to wander something she never liked. That’s why she would keep her mind occupied by house chores and when she’d be done she would take out her Quran and recite in a low voice. At night, tired, she’d slip into her bed and then into dreams, where she had a little world of her own. Right now she wasn’t sleepy. She looked at the fading color of henna on her palms, the round patterns felt like a whirlpool. A glistening drop slid down her cheek and fell onto her palm. She got panicked, closed her palm and rubbed off her eyes. “No one should see.� She thought. The moment of sudden rush ended when she realized no one was in the house to witness her. She was all alone and the only other inhabitant was out.

Bano remembered the evening, a year ago when they - just she and her husband - drove into a house dipped in the gloomy darkness. There was no one to welcome her – no decorative lights to cheer her up, just pitch black darkness enveloping everything. Her husband stepped out of the car, his knees made a funny creaking sound. His face twisted with the wave of pain yet he smiled to conceal it and turned on the porch light. He fumbled with a bunch of keys for a while and five minutes later managed to insert the right key. He pushed open the door – the whiff of stale air irritated Bano’s nostrils. “Wait here I’ll turn on the lights.� He said taking out his pocket size flash light. “Come inside.� He appeared a few seconds later.

She walked in, exploring every nook and corner with her yes trying to establish an affinity that helps to settle down in a new home. The house was neither bad nor obnoxiously dirty. It looked like any other house though she noticed an odd thing about it that there was more space in the house than rooms that must have been designed by some incompetent architect. Yes, there was one other thing about the house – it was as old as the owner – the man she had just got married to.

“Let me show you the kitchen.� Her husband said with a glare in his eyes like a starving child grabs his mother’s hand – drags her to the kitchen and demands his favorite cookies safely kept in the upper most cabinet. “I don’t like oily food. Too much salt is not allowed to me and I can’t eat much spice either.� He said smiling. “Tonight I’ll bring something from - - -�

“I’ll make at home - - - anything you like.� She said in a low obedient tone with her gaze fixed on the ground. “That’s even better.� And that is how the new life of Bano started from the kitchen of her husband.

Later that night, in the bedroom, she got on the bed having no idea what will follow next while her heart was going wild deep inside. Her husband entered the room and burped loudly. “What a nice meal I’ve had after long … but add less salt next time.� He took out a bag of his medicines and squat on the carpet. “Hand me a glass of water.� She obeyed. As he gulped down the water the hiccups started. “My stomach seems to be too excited toooo-night … (hiccup)… after having a well cooked meal.� She blushed and the feeling of guilt overcame her as if it was her fault. He put his medicines back on the shelf and extended his hand to open the drawer. She moved back a little but was caught between the shelf and his arm. His warm breath caressed her face and she felt a tickling sensation in her breasts.

“That is�, he said “my perfect homemade herbal medicine for digestive issues.� And put a spoon full of grounded stuff into his mouth. Sometime later they retired to their beds – two single beds with a side table in the middle. He started snoring in no time. She struggled to sleep – while the events of the day kept swirling in her mind.

In a week she got used to her life where hardly anything was new. One night when sleep was nowhere in her eyes, a young man jumped down from the worlds unknown into her thoughts. She smiled and coiled in her bed. His eyes were beaming with youthful energy. “Your eyes will butcher me.� She smiled half-heartedly and looked the other way. “And what about your eyes that strike me like a whip every time you look at me and I feel the sweet pangs afterwards and when you don’t look at me … like now then I seem to burn in fire.�

“I won’t be seeing you anymore.� She told him with all her seriousness.

“Because your father said no to my parents? Then let’s run away. We’ll make our home in such a place where no one is judged on the basis of caste.�

“And where is such place on earth?� She got up and never looked back for she knew if she did she’ll be weakened. She couldn’t run over her father’s dignity, who wasn’t ready to marry off her daughter into the family of butchers.

Years went by; she remained single, not by choice though. People had inkling about her affair – a strong reason in the conservative society to discourage from asking the girl’s hand. The rest of the proposals didn’t work out for they were either from the family of bakers, butchers or shoemakers. In those barren years of life the feeling of being passionately and madly sought by a man she loved helped her to live. Years later when her husband’s proposal came she didn’t know what her brothers saw in him. They simply told her to marry him. “Why?� She couldn’t ask them because she wasn’t brought up to question and probe and argue in the household where men – the earthly gods – ruled.

Her husband though gentle and non-abusive remained aloof to the cardinal aspect of matrimony. One night, when they were together in his bed in the same quilt – her routine in winters to lull him to sleep with the warmth of her body – something got into her. She felt his forehead, the curves of the wrinkled face and his lips. “What is it?� He said almost half asleep. “Don’t you want me?�

“Of course I do, if you weren’t around who’d send me to sleep and make nice meals for me.�

“No, I meant …� But he was already snoring. It was like expecting water in the dry well. She quietly left his bed and went to hers where her dreamy world and Rustam Shah were awaiting her. “What if�, she thought “She had run away with him? How life would have been with the man who loved her most?� She would have liked to grow old with Rustam … if only the gods of her life had not scripted her fate that way.