Manto and Chughtai by Muhammed Umar Memon & M. Asaduddin

Author:Muhammed Umar Memon & M. Asaduddin
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9789353055882
Publisher: Penguin Random House India Private Limited
Published: 2019-07-04T16:00:00+00:00

SACRED DUTY

The tiny bit of paper fluttered away from Siddiqi Sahib’s hand and fell on his lap like a half-dead moth. He brushed it off as though its poisonous fangs would get stuck to his very being.

His wife was supervising the hanging of chandeliers and coloured lanterns outside. Sitting on a heap of rugs, she was reading congratulatory telegrams and letters from faraway lands and from Delhi and other places inside the country on the occasion of their daughter’s marriage. Samina was very dear to her parents and had passed BSc that year with the highest honours.

The groom worked in Dubai on a monthly salary of twelve thousand, had free board and lodgings and was allowed a free vacation every year. Developments in the Arab world had opened up fortunes for many a nubile girl. The sudden spurt of wealth had brought prosperity to many a family. The boy was from a decent household and without much family encumbrances. The match had been settled over the phone. He was not very handsome and was a bit short as well. But the girl was not going to put her husband up for auction. One shouldn’t bother about a man’s physical features; it is his qualities that matter. Twelve thousand mattered a lot and ensured total comfort.

The daughter was delicate as a flower. She wanted to go in for higher studies, but an opportunity like this did not come every day. So she was silenced with a sharp reprimand. What benefit was to be had by doing an MSc or becoming a doctor?

Samina didn’t demur. On the contrary, she became absolutely quiet. These girls throw such tantrums, reflected the mother, as she put aside the letter she was reading. Well, she would go to see her daughter in Dubai in the month of Khali and, God willing, would perform hajj on her way back.

Siddiqi Sahib, in a dazed state at the moment, was staring in disbelief at the wretched bit of paper that had pulled his world from great heights into a bottomless abyss.

Papa, Mummy—I regret that I can’t agree to this match. I’m going to Allahabad with Tushar Trivedi to his parents’ home. We’ve been married in court. I’ll consider myself fortunate if you can forgive me.

Your daughter,

Samina Trivedi.

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