Parte Cuatro – Haris

After two rings, Umairah picked up her office phone.

“Hello?”
“Assalammualaikum Umairah.”
“Oh. Waalaikumsalam. Where are you?”
“I just got off work. Driving now. Do you want me to fetch you? I’m on the way to the mosque.”
“Oh.. Err it’s okay. I’ve done my prayers. Fetch me when you are done?”
Detecting something amiss, I asked:
“Hey, are you okay?”
“Yeah. Yeah I am. I’ll see you later?”
“Okay. I’ll see you later. Assalammualaikum.”
“Waalaikumsalam.”

Something was definitely up. Umairah sounded tense, and did she sound like she had just finished crying? I sure hope not. Tonight was going to be a big night. I looked at my passenger seat, the square crimson box sitting majestically. The lights turned amber and after stopping the car, I reached out for the box and opened it. The silver band gleamed back at me and the 3 small diamonds reflected a legion of colours on the ceiling of my car. I closed the box again and place it back gently on the car seat.

Umairah & I had been a couple for 4 years now. I still remember when I first met her. It was at a Childrens’ Camp at Ibrahim Mosque and she was a volunteer just like I was. She was 19 and I was 24. She had this aura about her. In front of the kids, she was as bright as sunshine. She knew how to make them laugh and she treated them all with love. At 19, she could be one of the kids and yet I felt like she was so much older. One night, we had planned to bring the kids to a reservoir nearby to feed the turtles but it rained and our Rainy-Day activity was to stay in the mosque and let the kids choose between colouring, watching a vcd or just free&easy.

She was sitting with 3 kids and they were playing some kind of game that involved clapping and several other gestures. For the ten minutes they were playing that game, it was punctuated with laughter so often that Umairah had tears in her eyes. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes glistened and her lips were a pretty shade of pink and it was open, alternating between a smile and a laugh. One time, she turned to look at me while she was in the midst of laughing and one tear trickled out her left eye. The next minute happened in slow motion, a mental video I still remember vividly. She closed her eyes and with one finger, she brushed it off. Before she could open her eyes, the 3 kids jumped on her and hugged her. Her delicate body could not take the sudden impact and she slowly landed on the ground, her smile still intact, the 3 kids still on top of her. The whole moment was beautiful in its simplicity. She had a connection with them, they loved her without understanding love. They were free in their expression and it was so pure and sincere. I was captivated. She was lovable simply by being. But I knew she had so much hidden in her.

That night when putting one of the kids to sleep, I heard the two whispering in the dark. Azim, the 7-year-old, was telling her about his mother that left him 2 years ago. “Because I was a bad boy.”
“No Azim, its not your fault.”
“She said I was like my father. She didn’t like me watching my father pray. She said Muslims are bad. She….. she wasn’t a Muslim.”
“Do you agree with her?”
“No. But Miss Umairah, I was sad for awhile. But not anymore.”
“And why is that Azim?”
“Because you are very nice. You make me happy.”
“Thank you Azim. You make me happy too. But after this camp, I won’t be here with you anymore. You must pray and be strong okay?”
“Okay.”
“Good night.”
“Good night Miss Umairah.”

Umairah walked out of the room and I followed her from a distance. She went to the back of the mosque. I stood behind a pillar and watched her. She rested her elbows on the stone fence and her right palm cupped her mouth. She was sobbing. I was torn between wanting to approach her and to remain a shadow behind the pillar. Before I could decide, she had wiped her tears and walked off.

Pursuing her was never easy. After the camp, I was too busy climbing the corporate ladder to volunteer much. We corresponded via email. Waiting for her replies was agonising; like an addict breathless for the next fix. It went on for 4 months before I decided that I had to see her in person again, that smile, that laugh, that dark shadows in her eyes that I wanted to decipher, and so I asked her out. It took me 3 attempts, by the 3rd one I was practically laying my pride on the floor for her and she finally said it. It was not a Yes or a Sure; it was Oh Okay then. Her attempt at hiding her lack of enthusiasm was nugatory but it fuelled me with the impetus to make this one date worth her agreeing.

I’ve never been big on extravagance and the date was simple. I only hoped she could see that I was sincere. I could tell she didn’t appreciate games so I was honest with her. I said that I was attracted and that I hoped she would give me a chance to make her happy, happier than she is. That I knew she had secrets and I wished she would share them with me. I said many things that night. I don’t know which ones made her change her mind, or maybe it was the whole lot. Whatever it is, she never said no to me again.

After prayers I fetched her and drove to an Arab restaurant we’ve never been to before. She had mentioned once how she loved the interior after seeing it in a magazine but we had both been too busy to visit the place. Tonight, tonight was different. I reserved the whole restaurant for us. Tonight, she will say yes to being my wife.

We went in and true enough, the interior was fantastic. Old paintings of the desert and handsome-looking camels and women with blue-green eyes adorned the walls. Brown and khaki drapes fell from the ceiling, hiding the strong lighting. Multi-coloured glass casings acted as lamps on some tables while some tables had a floating leaf-shaped candle. Incense sticks were burning and I knew at once it was sandalwood. Umairah had it in her office sometimes. Walking into the restaurant was like walking into a huge brown tent in the Sahara, minus the unbearable temperature. The air was cool and I could see that Umairah was pleased at coming here.

The waiter looked at me knowingly and led us to the table right in the middle. We had a quiet dinner but after she drank her jasmine tea to accompany her last bite, i thought, This is it, the time is here. I took out my crimson box, opened its lid and slid it across the table. Umairah’s eyes widened and what I had envisioned her to be – slow smile across her face, clasping her hands and then looking at me with joy in her eyes, none of that came. Instead, she looked at the ring and looked away. Somewhere in me, I felt something break.

“Umairah?”
After an unbearably long pause, she said “I wished you would have talked to me about it first.”
“We always talk everything out. We’re the most rational couple. I thought a surprise, a little spontaneity would be appreciated especially when it came to ……. when it came to this.”
“I can’t think now.”
“Think? Umairah, if you have to think about this, then I guess I got my answer.”
“No Haris, its not like that. I just… I had a rough day at work. I wasn’t expecting this at all.”
“I still can’t see whats there to think about. We’ve been together a while now. I’ve got a great job, we have enough savings….” Just as that moment, her mobile rang. It was her msg tone.
“I’m sorry” she said and flipped her phone open to read the msg. She finished reading it and her eyes closed and she pursed her lips. She left the phone lying on the table. I reached out for it and she didn’t stop me.

“Mairah? I got your number from Colin. I never expected to see you today but you’re looking really good. I’ve missed you. Sorry won’t be enough I know but I still love you. I always have. -Raj“

Anger shot through me and I hissed “Who’s Raj?”

“I used to be with him. We were just kids. He has a contract with the school now, a painting job. I haven’t seen him in years Haris. I’m just shocked I guess.”
“And I never knew about him? All this time..”
“There was nothing to tell. We were kids.”
“It certainly doesn’t look like just a kids thing to him” My head signalling towards her phone.
“I don’t know why he said that. You don’t have to worry about him, I’ll deal with it.”

There was something in her eyes, something I hadn’t seen before.
“You love him.”
“Once, maybe I did. Not anymore.”

But her eyes told a different tale. There was something in it tonight, I noticed it after she read the msg. Could it be love, a repressed desire? I couldn’t quite interpret it but it looked a lot like longing to me. One thing was for certain, Raj, whoever this guy is, had ignited that look in her. It was called passion. And it wasn’t me.

I slumped back in my seat, “You still love him. I can see it in your eyes!”
“I love you!”, she said it with more force than she had intended. In that frozen moment, we both knew that she had needed to say it aloud to convince herself more than to convince me. Her hands went up to her mouth and her eyes quivered. Her tears fell like a mid-july’s rain, tainting her flawless face with two rivulets of salt&eyeliner.

“I gave you my best. I took your distance as being part of your personality. But it wasn’t distance, it was a wall. You’ve built a wall and after all this time, I deceived myself into thinking that you love me, that I was worthy of breaking down that wall. You’ve been loving him all this time! This… this man you’ve never spoken about. How much do I really know you Umairah? You never loved me.” I reached out for my crimson box, its presence on the table was mocking me. I had to put it away. I had to leave. The woe in my heart was getting too much to take. Umairah’s silence was intolerable. I clutched the box in my hand, took my keys and wallet and said “Lets go. I’ll send you home.”

“No, just leave me here.”
“Fine.”

Dinner had already been paid beforehand. I took one last look at the woman I thought would have been my fiancee by this time tonight and left her with her tears for company.