Ashiana-e-Ali

The last time I saw her was when her husband had passed away and her son was one year old. She must have been approaching fifty. Ali was adopted a year earlier and Shehzaad sahib had lovingly placed a plaque outside their house. ‘Ashiana-e-Ali’.

‘You won’t have any problems when I am gone’ he said to her. And Ali will be fine.

They had desperately wanted a child and as Shehzaad sahib approached retirement they decided that they possibly couldn’t wait any longer. And one day, Ali came into their lives.

Shehzaad sahib died suddenly and before one knew it she was facing a lawsuit from her brother in law who laid claim to Shehzad sahib’s property. ‘Ashiana-e-Ali’.

The brother in law was murdered by his servants who learnt of a stash of a large sum of money in the house. They tied him up and strangled him to death. Soon after wards his death Shehzaad’s brother in law decided that it was his turn and took on the case and pursued it. She had remarried again to gain protection.

‘This society is going to be the end of me’ she had said before she decided to remarry. And then after a few years he died. He wasn’t exceptionally good to her but he wasn’t bad to her either. He was the sanction she needed in order to live in dignity at over fifty years of age.

Seven years later she found herself counting crockery, and pulling out sari’s that her mother in law gifted her decades ago. Mohsin bhai wanted an account of all her wealth and wanted it split down the Islamic way in the land of the pure. The law of the land does not protect the widows and orphans so why should Mohsin sahib stand on the sidelines? Mohsin sahib doggedly pursued the case and finally got his way. She had remarried and she was a woman who had failed to produce a biological heir. There fore she deserved to have an inventory drawn up of everything she ever owned and Mohsin bhai deserved to take ¾ of all. Mohsin Bhai left a fourth for Ali and herself to live off for the rest of their days. What a gracious man Mohsin Bhai is living in a house in the posh area of the posh capital of the land of the pure i.e. Pakistan. What a magnanimous man he is, owning more property in posh central and coming after her house.

Her house. It is all she has. It is absolutely all she has. Ever since her husband’s pension stopped coming five years ago, ever since Shehzaad sahib died, ever through her second marriage and its end it is all she ever had. Shehzaad sahib saved his entire life. Penny by penny was put together to purchase the house. And ever since she never had enough money to get it whitewashed even once. The walls were grey, the doors grey and cobweb infested and Mohsin Bhai strutted about inspecting the goods which would add to his wealth.

Mohsin bhai retired from the military service many years ago with the rank of Colonel. He must be approaching seventy now but what a spirited man I thought. Still going strong. The will to live, to accumulate wealth. For his three young robust sons I bet, while Ali has to live off lentils. How I long to see him collapse with age and disease and then watch those robust sons of his tear him apart for his wealth. How I long to be a servant in his house, and then one night, tie him up and stare into the terror of his eyes as he would struggle for his last gasps of air. How I would love to be believer and end up watching him burn for an eternity.

I think of her. I grew up in the same neighborhood as they did. They spent the better part of their lives putting pennies together so one day they could have their own home,have a son and drive a car. He died shortly after his house, his car and his son were all there with him. He had promised she would be fine. It was all in her name. She was nominated. But that wasn’t enough for his brother in law who was brutally murdered afterwards. It certainly wasn’t enough for Mohsin bhai who was a believing and law abiding citizen of the land. The Islamic legal code of the land of the pure once again fulfills itself and throws a widow and an orphan out on the street. Mohsin bhai in the meanwhile can contemplate how much he will be making off it and can live a life of dignity in his posh house.

All I could do was think of a place where I could go and bawl my eyes out.