Of Smokeless Fire by A.A. Jafri (i wanna iguana read aloud TXT) 📕

mother? Was she trying to say something? Mehrun ran towards the front door to get out of the house, but just then the door opened and Mansoor and her father entered the flat. As soon as she saw them, Mehrun became hysterical, clasping her father tightly around his waist and starting to hiccup again.

‘Mehrun Beti, are you all right?’ For the first time in her life, Mehrun heard her father call her ‘beti’, as if, at last, he was ready to reclaim her, willing to acknowledge his paternity. But Mehrun continued to shiver, and neither Mansoor nor Jumman understood what had taken over her.

*

Jumman had returned early that night and was waiting for Mehrun to warm up the food. But when Mehrun did not come back from work at her usual time, he got worried and went out to search for her. She had told him about the farewell party, but he had forgotten all about it. He took a taxi and went to the Kashana to see if she was there. When he did not find her there either, he asked Mansoor to help him look for her. Mansoor took his car and they looked for her at every possible place, but without any success. Disappointed, they decided to check back at the flat. And that was how, after a fruitless search, they saw the petrified Mehrun just as they entered the flat. Despite her irrepressible sobs, they were relieved to see her alive and well. When they asked her why she was crying so hard, she fibbed that she was afraid Jumman had gone missing.

It was well past midnight, so Mansoor said goodbye, but before departing, he told Mehrun about his admission at the University of Iowa. She had known that he had applied to American universities and would soon leave, but the news still depressed her. First, it was Alvi’s proposal, and now it was Mansoor’s news. She did not know how she was going to spend the night alone in her bed—afraid of that churail, confused about Alvi’s proposal and desolate about Mansoor’s impending departure.

Discussing the marriage proposal with her father was out of the question. Girls simply did not talk about such matters. The rules of marriage could not be transgressed; the power of taboo could not be broken. The most crucial decision in a girl’s life was usually made without her consent. Mehrun’s work might have liberated her, but cumbersome traditions and rusted customs still shackled her.

Mehrun’s febrile state brought on delirium and nightmares. In her dream, she was transported to a surreal, inverted world, inhabited by bizarre creatures, a place where darkness ruled and emptiness prevailed. She felt alone, but suddenly, she became aware of someone’s presence. She knew who that was. Sitting at some distance was that same withered churail she had seen in the mirror, laughing, and mocking and taunting her. For some reason, the churail stayed at a distance and never came near her, and then in the next moment, Mehrun heard a terrified shriek, like a cat crying during rutting time, and the churail evaporated into thin air. She saw Mansoor transform into a djinn. She saw Sadiq Mirza kissing a girl, and then he disappeared as well.

Mehrun woke up trembling, the nightmare had disoriented her sense of time and place, the churail, the djinn and the other demons all a vague blur in the dark cocoon of her memory. She remained in a state of delirium for three days, and then, after the third night, her fever broke, ending her phantasmagorical dreams. On the fourth morning, she woke up to the sound of the call to prayer from a nearby mosque. Having had enough of the spectral harassment, she got up and decided to tackle things head-on. The memories that she had successfully ejected from her conscious self must now be jettisoned from her unconscious being. With her eyes closed, she took three deep breaths and began reciting a verse from the Qur’an. As her mind began clearing, she deliberately turned her attention to Alvi. It seemed as if too much time had elapsed and too many events had happened since he proposed to her.

Realizing that her father was too incapacitated to make such a monumental decision on her behalf, she took matters into her own hands and began weighing the pros and cons of the marriage proposal. She had always liked Alvi, but could she imagine him as her husband? This would be her only chance to have a good life; perhaps this would be her ticket to becoming an authentic begum. Should she confide in someone? But who? The single name that came to her lips was Mansoor’s. As daylight peeked in through the window, Mehrun realized that there were too many positives to decline the proposal. Marriage was not about love. Look at Noor ul Haq; look at Sadiq Mirza, both miserable in their marriages. Look at her own parents. Her mind finally made up, she readied herself to cross the Rubicon. She was prepared to say yes and transform the churail into a begum.

*

From her office, Mehrun made two phone calls. First, she called Alvi on his direct line, and when he picked up the phone, she said, ‘My answer is yes.’

He replied, ‘Good. I’ll make the arrangements,’ and hung up.

After taking a deep breath, she dialled the Kashana. Luckily, Mansoor picked up the phone.

‘Hello, Mansoor Babu. How are you? I wanted to tell you something. Alvi Sahib has asked me to marry him, and I have said yes.’ She said without stopping.

Mansoor tried to grasp what Mehrun had said. Then, after a pause, he replied, ‘Oh.’

‘Aren’t you going to congratulate me?’

‘Yes, yes, congratulations.’

‘Is that all, Mansoor?’

‘What do you want me to say, Mehrun? You have already said yes, and now you have informed me of your decision.’

‘Thank you, Mansoor,’ she said and put the phone down.

After a few minutes, the phone rang again, but she didn’t pick it up. She knew it would