FICTION

It was 10 p.m. when Abid Ali put on his station master uniform and looked himself in the mirror, a sadness washed over his face. Every day, he felt a remorse piercing his soul. He thought, “Khadija takes great care of me despite the divorce….She was very loyal to me…” He felt suffocation, counting the traits of Khadija. He took a long deep breath to calm himself, which eventually clogged his throat.

“Dinner….”

Khadija’s voice brought him back to the present moment, startling him and shattering his thoughts, and he heaved a sigh of relief. Unintentionally, he turned around and looked at Khadija. Her sight let him feel his mistake. So, he lowered his gaze.

Khadija’s face was veiled by a mantle. She put the dinner on the table and left.

Abid reluctantly sat down for dinner. He felt it hard even to swallow his first morsel. He struggled to take some bites, leaving the remaining meal. He rubbed his palms, jerked his hands to remove the orts, and then leaned against the back of the chair. His eyes travelled to an old large wall clock, hanging on the wall. He felt the clock’s tick-tock echoing inside his head, too, along the room’s atmosphere. He continued gazing at the clock. The tick-tock reverberates remained the same in the room but raised louder and louder inside his head. He felt like time had plundered everything of him. The clock’s needles seemed him like fast moving metallic wheels of an express train, carrying Khadija away from him rapidly. Undoubtedly, their matrimonial relations had ended with the divorce, and he had not casted a cursory glance on her face since the day of their separation. However, Khadija’s stay in his house to observe her Iddat felt him like a shadow of an oasis in the hot desert. He imagined Khadija leaving the home and him alone like a baby forever, staring at the wall clock. The wheel of time would take her away, leaving him swaying stuck on the pendulum of remorse.

He startled again when Khadija placed the glass of water on the table.

“Are you right?” Khadija enquired cautiously, gazing his gloomy face and uneaten food.

“Yes… I am fine.” Abid replied sadly, lowering his eyes.

“Then why didn’t you eat well?” Khadija enquired, adjusting her downwards slid veil.

“I don’t know. I don’t feel hungry these days.” Abid answered without looking at her.

Though Abid was not looking at her, but when Khadija realized she had been standing in front of him for some time, she turned and stood with her back to him.

“You used to complain when you did not like the food, but now you don’t.” Khadija complained with gloominess.

“I have no complaints anymore.” He was still sitting the same way. “Rather, I’m grateful of you for still cooking for me and keeping the house clean.”

“It is because of your kindness that I’ve been still living in this house.” She spoke with a heavy heart. “I have no place to stay after Iddat.”

“Do not worry about it.”Abid said with lowered head. “Allah is the omnipotent.”

“No doubt, Allah is the omnipotent. Indeed,” Khadija sighed sorrowfully. “But I have no one in the entire world — no family, no relatives. You were all for me… but after this divorce…!” She could not complete her sentence.

“You’re well aware that I’m deeply remorseful divorcing you. I consider myself a criminal.” He expressed agonizingly. “Allah is beneficent and merciful. He will certainly make things easier for you.”

“A home is the best shelter for a woman.” Dejection overwhelmed her. “I’ll have to leave this house after Iddat.”                  

Abid Ali suddenly found himself looking at her feet. He turned around his chair. Both of them knew that they were Na-Mehram for each other after their divorce. They always tried to avoid talking too much. She only came into his room to serve the meal. Whenever she needed to discuss something, she would stand behind the door and spoke. When he needed to speak with her, he would stand outside her room and talked. It seldom happened that they talked each other turning around.

“Khadija!” He knew she was still there, but to be sure, he called her name.

“Yes!” Khadija answered in low voice.

“The grief of leaving you this house will keep me killing forever.” His eyes fell wet. “However, I will always pray for you.”

“I’ll also remember you in my prayers. You know, when I raise my hands for prayers I pray for your prosperity and protection first of all.” She said, nearly crying. “Please forgive me if I have ever hurt you.”

“It was my mistake…. I was wrong…. I could not control my rage and divorced you for a triviality.” Two drops of ears slid from his eyes and disappeared into his beard. “Well, I’m grateful to you for spending Iddat days here at my request. I’m also grateful to Allah Almighty for keeping us on the preserved and protecting us from adultery.

“You must marry another woman.” Khadija said, painfully.

He got up from the chair. “I have repeated you several times not to advise me a second marriage.” He expressed his annoyance.

“Tell me something honestly.” Her voice was trembling.

“What?” Abid asked, curiously.

“Where is Zainab?” She struggled with the forbidden question.

“Look… I have told you many a times that I don’t know where she went after leaving this house.” He answered, composedly.

Khadija kept quiet.

“You know I don’t tell a lie.” His said in a voice filled with hurt and complaints. “But you keep asking the same question over and over.”

Khadija stood still.

Abid Ali assumed that Khadija didn’t believe him. “If you do not trust me, I will swear in Allah’s name.”

“No… no,” Khadija said abruptly. “Please do not make me feel guilty by swearing.”

“Khadija! Trust me. I do not know where she is. He gasped  and continued. “Just like we do not know about the destiny of the passengers standing at railway station.”

It seemed Khadija had nothing to say.

“This house was like a platform of a railway station to her. She stayed for a while, and then vanished.” He finished his sentence after a little pause.

“And now I’m standing at the same platform.” She said in a dejected tone.

Abid Ali had no reply. He stood with his face turned to the wall, quietly.

“The passenger standing on the platform of the railway station knows his destination.” Her voice was as gloomy as a crane parted from her flock. “I’m not sure where the train of time and circumstance will take me.”

“Night coach is about to arrive. I have to leave now for the railway station.” He was unable to bear the burden of her words. He left the room with his head down.

Khadija stood there motionless. Her sobs filled the stillness of the evening.

….

(Translated from SINDHI by Rehan Islam)

::::