Chapter 9
Zafar
Zafar lifted his cupped hands to his face and then moved them down the sides of it as Saleema’s grandmother finished reciting the final prayer, concluding the recital with good wishes and blessings for the couple, their future and everyone else in attendance.
Everyone was congregated in the main villa, with the women on one side of the room and the men on the other side, as was customary for such gatherings. Zafar was sitting beside Shoaib and Khalil, and from where he was sat, he could see Reshma sitting next to Daadi, with Haniya on her other side.
She had her dupatta covering her head as a sign of respect when praying and her head was slightly bowed. Her lips were moving as she prayed and then she lifted her hands to her face like he had. When she moved them away and opened her eyes, they met his.
He watched as her expression, which started off as neutral, slowly changed. Her jaw firmed and her eyes hardened. The corners of her lips turned down a fraction as her chin went up and then she looked away.
Zafar felt his heart sink. He was in deeper shit than he had realised, but as the day had progressed, the extent of the damage was dawning on him.
This wasn’t just a run-of-the-mill argument.
Nor was it a domestic disagreement or misunderstanding which they’d get over before long.
She was upset to the point where she had actually just switched off with him.
It wasn’t anything she’d said or done as such, but he could tell. Though it had only been a day and she’d spent much of it away from him, in the moments they had been together, there was none of the sweetness or warmth from her he had always been on the receiving end of.
After they’d got back from her uncle and aunt’s villa earlier that day, she’d spent her time getting ready for the prayer recital and when he’d gone upstairs and tried talking to her, she’d responded with monosyllabic answers, and after getting ready, she’d gone downstairs, leaving him staring after her.
He figured it would be wise to give her some space.
His grandmother had immediately picked up that there was tension between them and when Reshma had left that morning after breakfast, she’d turned to him instantly and demanded he tell her what had happened to upset Reshma.
He hadn’t spilt all the beans, giving her just the bare bones. ‘She’s a bit upset with me because she thinks I don’t want to be here.’ He didn’t tell her that she’d overheard his conversation with his mother or what had happened after that.
‘Oh, Zafar. I hope you reassured her that that wasn’t the case.’
‘I tried.’
‘Sweetheart, you need to give your marriage and her a lot more than you have so far. I can see why she might lose confidence in it.’
His grandmother had gone on to advise him not to model himself on his grandfather as a husband and to make his relationship a priority. And she wasn’t wrong.
For the first time in a long time, Zafar felt like he might be a little lost. As though he had come onto stage with a certain script rehearsed, but it turned out that the play being enacted was a different one. Would he be able to improvise his way through it or would the audience see through him?
He’d mulled over his grandmother’s words, allowing them to percolate in his head before he’d decided to venture out for a walk. He’d needed to be outside and let his mind have free rein.
It wasn’t that he needed his hand held by his father or grandmother or even his best friend when it came to his marriage.
He didn’t. He knew things weren’t ideal, but he’d always thought they’d find their way organically.
His work had been a priority for the last four years and the intensity of it had consumed him to the point that he hadn’t made the shift he should have when Reshma had become a part of his life.
Was it an excuse? No, it was a statement of fact, but he needed to do something about it. He just needed to figure out what that something was.
Both Murad and Daadi had mentioned simple gestures and Daadi had spoken about forging a connection.
How was he supposed to go about those things?
Simple gestures were … well, simple enough, but Zafar knew deep down that those alone wouldn’t suddenly get Reshma and him back to where they’d been before she’d overheard that bloody phone call.
Before she’d questioned their relationship and before she’d shut down on him.
What would he have suggested to Murad or one of his brothers if they had been in his shoes? Well, he’d suggest they go back to basics. Go out on dates, get to know her, see what makes her tick and take it from there. But he couldn’t do that himself. He was already married to Reshma.
But why not? Maybe he could do that. Maybe that’s what Daadi and Murad had been alluding to.
He hadn’t done any of that before, but he could do it now.
Go back to basics and give Reshma and their marriage the time they both deserved.
Maybe then she’d be able to see past this blunder of his so they could find a sense of harmony with each other.
Strengthen their bond, as Daadi had said.
As for love … well. They’d cross that bridge when – and if – they ever got to it.
Many a relationship stood the test of time on the basis of mutual respect and affection.
Love wasn’t an essential ingredient for a successful marriage.
It wasn’t a need or necessity, more a nice-to-have kind of thing.
As Fate would have it, on his walk, Zafar had found himself at Uncle Jawad’s villa, where the man himself had been standing outside, tapping away on his phone.
If he was a believer of signs, then this would have been a big fat one. Reshma was right there and that’s where he’d ended up as well.
Uncle Jawad had flipped closed the cover on his phone, offered Zafar a cup of coffee and led him into the villa.
He’d then pulled out a deck of cards while he suggested they wait for the ladies to finish with their business and had proceeded to wipe the floor with him, though Zafar reckoned that if his brain had been firing on all cylinders and not distracted by his opponent’s niece, the result wouldn’t have been so one-sided.
‘Woah, earth to Zaf. You there, mate?’
‘Huh?’ He turned to look at Shoaib, who had a puzzled look on his face.
‘I’ve called your name twice now. The prayers are done, dude. Everyone is heading outside. You coming?’
Zafar looked around the room, tuning back into the present.
Almost everyone had got up and moved around while he’d been in his own head.
How long had he zoned out for? He got up and tried to cover his embarrassment at being caught by Shoaib by clapping the other man on the shoulder as he turned towards the patio.
‘Yeah, yeah, let’s go out.’ Even his voice sounded croaky, like he’d just woken from the kind of nap that left you questioning what day of the week it was.
The atmosphere outside was as vibrant as it had been the day before.
The catering team stationed just beside the patio door had fired up the barbecue and Zafar could hear faint music in the background.
There seemed to be more people present than there had been the previous day.
He’d heard from Khalil that guests would start trickling in on a daily basis now, some to stay and some who would come for the day and go back either to their own accommodation arrangements or their own homes.
Uncle Jawad introduced him to people he wasn’t familiar with, some of whom knew his father and some who had known his grandfather as a young man.
It was strange hearing stories about him from people he didn’t know and while some sounded true to the man he knew, others made him wonder if they were talking about the same person.
‘It is odd, isn’t it?’ Uncle Jawad said when Zafar told him as much.
‘Everybody sees the same person in a different way. We all see different facets of each other and sometimes some people’s accounts of someone we’re familiar with sound alien to us.
I mean, take my younger brother, for instance.
’ He shook his head as he spoke. ‘Everyone sees a dynamic, life-of-the-party type who comes into a room and lights it up, making me look like dead wood in comparison. The most boring man in the world. But ask Reshma. She sees someone completely different in him, and in me for that matter.’
Zafar followed Uncle Jawad’s line of sight and found Reshma sitting with a group of people.
She was talking to a woman with a small child in her lap, while a few kids ran around them, looking relaxed and at ease, though he knew that wasn’t how she was feeling deep down, adding further credence to what her uncle had just said.
‘Uncle Jawad? Zafar? Come on, the first round of meats and veg are coming off the barbecue.’ Khalil started making his way around the gathering, telling people to help themselves to the feast.
Zafar excused himself to check on his grandmother and found that she had moved to the dining table inside with a few others and was already eating.
He went back outside and decided to look for Reshma.
She was sitting in the same place she had been before, a plate of food now in her hand.
She caught sight of him looking at her and she pressed her lips together before looking away.
Not letting that small rebuff put him off, he loaded a plate with food and picked his way across the space towards her, pleased to see a few empty chairs around the area. He pulled one up right beside her and sat down.
‘Hello, ladies.’ He smiled at Haniya and the other woman sitting with them and then he looked at Reshma, whose eyes were firmly on her plate.
‘Hey, Zaf. How are you finding being surrounded by your in-laws? You ready to run for the hills yet?’ Haniya grinned at him.