They said it isn’t normal to laugh and cry at the same time but her memory was dotted abundantly with innumerable instances where these reactions were minutes apart from each other. The day her father died. The day her brother graduated. The day she graduated. The day her sister got engaged to the boy she wanted to. The day she went on a picnic with her family. That was the day she had laughed the hardest. That was the day she had laughed last.
After that, mostly tears. When they dried, slight grins.
Adeel was on that picnic because his family was in Saudi Arabia. He was living alone in Karachi in a flat somewhere to complete his studies. She was always a little shy around him because everyone knew that they would be married someday. There were no rings but it was the kind of thing that didn’t need rings or ceremonies. Everyone just – knew.
His occasional glances could have been described as ones that had a ‘mild interest’ to them. Their family was huge so they booked two large huts on the faraway beach and the ride there was fun. A huge bus packed with everyone she had known and loved since she was a child. They had sang songs, ate junk food, teased each other mercilessly about ‘beach attires’ and stupid hats and sunglasses and passed along the beach ball through the bus, stopping it on random people, asking them to sing goofy songs. Her father was alive then. She was sitting between him and her mother, they were so proud of their newly graduated daughter, their freshly engaged second daughter and their just-employed son. Their children had almost made it completely in the harsh world beyond and their happiness meant everything to her.
It was dusk. How could she ever forget it was dusk? Aunty Mariam, the family gossip, was sipping tea and telling everyone what they already knew. How good and pious Adeel’s father was. Never missed a maghrib namaz. Was quite well-known in the Pakistani community in Jeddah as one of the best and most reliable and trustworthy men around. Adeel was a spitting image, no one could find fault with him. His brown beard and dark eyes were only the outward similarities between him and his father. The inside was just as similar, everyone said. He was such a good boy. Fouzia is so lucky.
She acted as all girls act when their betrothed are mentioned: immensely interested in toenails.
The ladies kept chattering and walked outside the hut to catch the evening dip in the sea. The other aunts had started the dinner BBQ out on the sand and it was time to prepare for dinner. She sat still, examining her toes, perhaps there was too much cuticle there. She was alone in the lounge and decided to go to the room to wash her face and get rid of all the dirt. The water was warm and felt good against her sticky face.
She walked out of the room and her shirt was dripping with water since she had splashed around water around her neck. She was shocked to see Adeel standing in front of her.
“Oh! I didn’t see you – “ she rushed to get her dupatta. What a nightmare.
“What are you doing here all alone, Fouzia?” he asked in a strange, unrecognizable sort of a tone. It was hoarse and soft and it made her uncomfortable.
“I should go – you can use the washroom if you like.”
In one swift movement, she was pressed against the wall and his face was very close to her. She struggled to let go. “What are you doing … “ she wanted to protest but he clasped his hand over her mouth.
It all happened very fast. She was half naked and he had thrown her down on the floor. There was nothing she could do. Except maybe cry silently because he had stuffed the edge of her shirt in her mouth. There was no time to process what was happening to her. There was no time to understand why God was doing this to her. There was no time to comprehend the magnitude of piety that was associated with this charming man who seemed to be likeable enough and had now forcefully taken away her virginity.
Maybe it would have helped if he could have apologized. Maybe it was something he wanted to do but wasn’t sure if Fouzia would allow it. She would have allowed it, if he had asked for it, if he had coaxed her into it, like her friends would tell her. Maybe it wouldn’t have made her feel like a slug or a slab of chicken that was tormented and pushed through a meat grinder. Maybe if he hadn’t treated her like a stray on the street, she would have easily rationalized it. Sex is sex, that much she knew. Why Adeel found it important to make into rape, she did not understand.
She did not understand it at all. When he was done, he left the room without looking at her. Her tears didn’t stop but her cries were empty. She went into the bathroom and locked herself in. Waited for ten minutes, changed her clothes, switched off the lights and lay down on the bed. Before she knew it, she was asleep.
(end of part three)
