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Mehrunnisa:
A love story from Lahore
By Zeenat Mahal
[Chapter 10]
Jamal gave a low throaty laugh. ‘I knew that’d be your reaction. How
like you to say that, thinking of the wellbeing of others. Mehru, I
don’t care about anything if I can’t have you. I told
you I’d defy the world for you. I’ve never gone back on my word
ever…but I did, today. I broke the code I’ve lived by all my life, for
you. There’s nothing that you can say that’ll change my mind. I’ve never
behaved like this before, but I don’t regret it Mehru, not one bit. It
was an easy choice for me, believe me.’
Mehru’s heart sank with guilt. She felt a faint misgiving but she
thought she might as well wait for him to stop the car. Soon he did, in
front of an impressive old mosque. As he parked the car Jamal said,
‘I’ll be back in a minute okay?’
Without waiting for her reply he got out and entered the small gate
on the side of the main mosque entrance. Mehru waited for him to get
back so she could break his heart. What was she going to say to him?
How would he react? He was a practical grown up man. Surely he’d see
how it benefited him as well? Sure she’d been a little under-handed but
then she was after vengeance, that’s never pretty. Ten minutes later he
was back, his face looking more relaxed than before.
Marriage ceremony
‘We’ll have to wait a few minutes before we can go in for the
marriage ceremony, the nikaah. I’ll be there with you so it won’t be
difficult for you to say the words, okay? You’ll just have to repeat
what the Qazi sahib says. I’ve told him to speak slowly so you’ll…’
‘Jamal. Please, stop and listen to me.’
He gave her sudden flash of smile, full of some secret knowledge, but
quickly repressed it. Then looking away he said softly, his voice warm
and silky, ‘Erm…if you’re worried about this being our wedding night, we
won’t…’
Suddenly irate, Mehru snapped at him.
‘Jamal! I cannot marry you because I lied to you. I don’t want to
marry you. This was all to get even with that old tyrant. I was
pretending all this time! I wanted to get even with my grandmother. She
called my mother a slut. She ruined my mother’s life. My mother died
thinking that she’d destroyed my father’s life and my father…He let her
destroy his life and my mother’s. She destroyed my family, my childhood
and I hate her!’
He stared at her blankly. She could feel the tears gathering in her
eyes, so she blinked rapidly and said slowly, ‘I’m sorry. I’m so sorry
you had to be dragged into this but…she loves you, she trusts you. I
wanted her to know what it felt like to be betrayed. I wanted her to
feel what my mother felt when she was betrayed by my father. My mother
lived like an exile all her life because of her.’
Wonderful
Mehru paused and looked at Jamal. He was still staring at her, his
face grim, shocked and disbelieving. Gently, she added, ‘I…I…hope you
understand…it’s nothing to do with you. You’re a wonderful, kind man and
I hope you’re very happy...but it’s not going to be with me. I’m really
sorry, Jamal. All I want is to go back home, you see. I cannot marry
you. I thought I could do it but I can’t.
This is enough to show her. I’m sorry…’
Jamal’s eyes were changing slowly now…from shock, to disbelief to
rage. They were turning hard and uncompromising. His jaw tightened, and
a look of sheer incredulity flashed across his face before it shuttered
down to a gaunt mask. Quickly she added, almost afraid to let him speak,
‘I’ll go back with Bibi. I can go back. Please believe me when I tell
you how sorry I am.’
He looked like a stranger. His face was expressionless and his eyes
bore no resemblance to velvet, or sexy sleepiness. Mehru felt that
slight lick of fear again, and to counter it she spoke lightly, as if it
was a good joke between two friends.
‘I’m sure you’ll be thanking me in a week’s time when you realise I
saved you from that little goose. Jamal flexed his hands on the wheel of
his new motorcar. He was the proud owner of the tenth motor-car in the
city of Lahore.
He stared at the mosque for a long time and then up into the dark
sky, visible through the windshield. There were stars and a half moon.
Streaks of grey cloud were strewn across the parts of sky made lighter
by moonshine. But he did not speak. Mehru was getting nervous.
‘Jamal….’
Killer
He turned towards her slowly. There was nothing in his face of the
man she’d become used to seeing. This is what a killer looks like before
he kills, she thought, and her legs turned to jelly.
When he spoke, his voice was low and even.
‘The Qazi will be here soon with the registration papers for the
nikaah. When he comes I’ll take you inside and we’ll be married…’
She interrupted him shrilly, ‘Jamal! Haven’t you been listening? I
just told you I can’t marry you! Don’t you understand? It was all just a
hoax.
There isn’t going to be any marriage, Jamal. I have to go back home
as soon as possible. I never want to see that old crone again. Just take
me home. I’ll go in the backdoor. No one will know. Bibi and I will
leave.’
Mehru had no way of knowing that she was making things worse for
herself. When she finished, he continued as if she hadn’t spoken.
‘After the nikaah, I’ll take you home…’
‘What the bloody hell? Aren’t you listening? I am not marrying you.’
His voice was calm, when he replied, ‘That you will, Mehrunissa.’
No contest
Mehru stared at him. He sounded resigned. Cool. Emotionless. As if
there was no contest of the truth of that statement.
She replied with ire, ‘This isn’t eighteen fifty, Jamal. I am new
woman of the new century.
I’m not some helpless female you may be used to here. I have rights
and I’m not afraid to create a ruckus. You so much as lay a hand on me,
and I’ll…’
His laugh was short and mirthless. ‘You misunderstand me. I have no
desire to touch you, or even look at you, Mehrunissa. But make no
mistake--you will marry me tonight.
You will do so quietly and without trouble. If you so much as open
your mouth without my permission once we’re out of this car, I’ll make
sure you never set eyes on your precious England again. And unlike you,
I don’t make idle threats.’
‘Bibi and Mallo Chachi…’
New century
‘Aren’t here. And by the time they get here, we’ll be married. No one
will, and can interfere between a husband and his wife. Not even in the
new century. Now get out of the car, cover your head with your scarf,
and follow my lead.’
Mehru didn’t move. She glared at him. He simply stared back at her
with that unrelenting blank look. After glaring at him for a good one
minute and seeing no change in his cold expression, Mehru decided to
change tack.
‘Jamal…please, you’re a good man…you don’t want to do this…’
‘You’re right on both counts. But I have to do this. I will do this.
I made a mistake and now I must see it through.’
He got out of the car and came to her side. Too late, Mehru tried to
lock the door. He simply opened it with his car keys, and gripping her
arm in a vice, he almost dragged her out.
‘Jamal…you’re making a big mistake. I don’t forgive easily. I’ll make
you pay….’
He didn’t even slacken his pace. Once inside, he held on to her arm
and told the man to proceed. The man was ancient, and paid no heed to
Mehru’s pleading looks or tears. Jamal was holding on to her like she
was a slippery eel. She had no idea what the man said that first time.
When Jamal told her to repeat the Arabic verses, she remained
mutinously silent.
Passport
In a cool, impersonal voice he said, ‘I have your passport. Ajoo Baba
gave it to me for your visa renewal. We can stay here all night. But
marry me, you will…tonight, tomorrow, day after…We’re not leaving here
till we’re married.’
All her words died on her lips, because Jamal’s eyes were cold as
flint and his jaw was set in relentless lines. She knew that no matter
what she said, or did, nothing was going to dissuade him.
He was beyond reason. Not for a moment did he loosen his grip on her
arm or show the slightest inclination to soften his expression.
His cold eyes were only warning her in silence. She stared at his
implacable features as he gazed back at her steadily, emotionless and
determined.
‘And if I do…will you let me go then?’ She asked tremulously.
Jamal said simply, ‘Just make it easier on yourself and get on with it.’
Verses
For the first time since the fiasco had begun, Mehru felt defeated.
And slowly, haltingly, through her sobs she repeated the verses and
signed the papers. How it ended, or what happened afterwards she had no
idea. The next thing she registered was that they were entering a
gorgeous house. Her tears had finally dried up. She felt emotionally and
physically depleted.
A middle-aged man came running when their car cruised in. Jamal
alighted, and said something to the man, who went running again. Jamal
came to her side of the car and opened the car door. He didn’t even look
at her.
‘Let’s go.’
He started towards the main entrance, without waiting for her.
She dragged herself out of the car and followed him. This was all a
nightmare and none of it was real. She was going to wake up any minute
now.
Her brain had had too much to process, so it was now numb and in
denial.
She saw a woman, a maid probably who said something to her and Mehru
didn’t understand. Her ears were buzzing. Jamal spoke and the woman
laughed and smiled, and started touching Mehru on her head and shoulders
in some sort of benediction.
She led her upstairs to a bedroom, chattering all the while. Mehru
lay down on the bed and closed her eyes, exhausted and depleted. She
fell asleep immediately.
Glossary of terms
Qazi: judge
Nikaah: marriage vows
Chachi: paternal uncle’s wife
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