Free A Pair of Jeans and other stories by Qaisra Shahraz

third in six months. What did she do with them? Then she heard her husband call her name, his voice supremely autocratic.
    Mrs Williams and her love of cars put aside, Begum returned to the living room and sat down on the sofa opposite her husband, waiting for him to begin. Her heartbeat had automatically quickened. The seconds were ticking away into minutes, and her husband, however, still had made no move to say anything, his gaze on the newscaster. Instead she picked up the Urdu national newspaper ‘Daily Jang’ from the coffee table, and began to read it. More precisely she was pretending to read it, the words were a blur in front of her eyes.
    Ayub, at last, stood up, stretching out his legs. Striding across the room, he switched off the television. Returning to his chair, his pointed gaze now fell on his wife.
    “Well”, he began softly.
    It was now her turn to play; she pretended not to hear him or understand the implication of his exclamation “well”. Now that the moment of reckoning had come, she absurdly wanted to prevaricate – to put the discussion off.
    “Well, what?” she responded coldly, buying time, peeping at her unsmiling husband over the edge of the newspaper.
    “You know very well what I mean! Don’t pretend to misunderstand me, Begum,” he rasped under his breath, not at all amused by her manner, tone or her words.
    Begum calmly examined the harsh outlines of her husband’s unsmiling face. She was lost. She did not know what to say, or how to say it, although she knew the subject he was referring to. Thus her lips would not open, she simply stared at him.
    “Well, what do you think of your future daughter-in-law? I thought you told me that she was a very “sharif”, a very modest girl. Was that naked waist what you would call modest?” He lanced at her.
    “I am sure she is.” Begum defensively volunteered, feeling hedged. After all she was the one who had originally taken a liking to Miriam.
    “Huh!” Ayub grunted. “Sharif! Dressed like that! God knows who has seen her. Would you like any of your friends and relatives to have seen her as she appeared today, would you Begum?” The voice was cutting.
    “But she’s a college student – college students do dress like that. Haven’t you yourself joked about tatty jean-clad university students?” Begum boldly persisted.
    She wanted to excuse Miriam’s mode of dress to herself and to him; she knew she was not going to make a success of it because, secretly in her own heart, she very much agreed with her husband.
    “Tell me, in those clothes of hers, would you be proud to have her as your daughter-in-law? I know I am not. You talk about her being a university student. Well, have you any idea what sort of company that she might be keeping with that lot. You’ve only seen her at odd times, and always at home. Do you know what she is really like? Have you thought of the effect she could have in your household? With her life style, such girls also want a lot of freedom. In fact, they want to lead their lives the way their English college friends do. Did you notice what time she came in? She knew we were coming, yet that had not made any difference to her lifestyle. Do you expect her to change overnight in order to suit us? People form habits, Begum, do you understand? Are you prepared for a daughter-in-law who goes in and out of the house whenever she feels like it, dressed like that and returns home as late as that? Don’t your cheeks burn at the thought of that bit of flesh you saw? Imagine how our son will feel about her! I hope shame! And what if she has a boyfriend already – have you thought of that? What if she has a boyfriend already? What if she takes drugs? What if… What if… So many questions to ask ourselves! Do you know, we do not know this girl at all, Begum! Can you guarantee that she will make our son happy?”
    He paused strategically, waiting for her to say something. Begum, bemused, had nothing to add. The