Free A Pair of Jeans and other stories by Qaisra Shahraz Page B

other’s homes. With the subject of their growing children’s futures looming on their domestic horizons, the two mothers had, as a matter of course, discussed and dwelled at length on the subject of their children’s marriage prospects.
    Farook and Miriam had also met each other soon afterwards. Often accompanied by their parents, they too, took a liking to each other. They found they were very compatible in their interests and personalities and had a lot to laugh about – often giggling together. When their parents suggested the idea of marriage – both heartily agreed. Farook just couldn’t help grinning all over. Miriam was struck with sudden shyness, her cheeks burning. Soon afterwards an engagement party was held for the two. In order to let them complete their respective courses, the wedding was to be postponed for a year or so.
    That was a year ago. Today Farook’s parents went to meet Miriam’s, in order to discuss the arrangements for the forthcoming wedding in six months’ time. They were to decide on the date and discuss possible venues for the two receptions. Instead they had returned home, without even mentioning the word wedding. Yet their thoughts were very much centred on that subject. However, more importantly on Miriam herself – her clothes and her body!
    “Well?” Ayub’s cold prompting brought his wife to the present.
    Begum turned to look at her husband once more and calmly waited for him to finish what he was going to say. There was a speculative gleam in his eyes.
    “What are you going to do?” He rasped.
    This time she could not pretend to misunderstand him.
    She faced him squarely – poised for a battle. Yet as she was about to utter the words her heart sank. For she saw her Miriam fast disappearing from the horizon. But then as she tried to clutch onto her image in her mind, there arose that one of her in that silly pair of faded jeans, and that ridiculously short vest. Her heart sank. It had to be. It was better to face the matter now than regret it later. The problem was, how she, Begum, was going to deal with it. She did not have the heart nor the courage to play the role demanded of her; nor the one that she inevitably had to play in this drama. Knowing her husband, she knew for sure, that he would leave it to her – to sort out the situation with the two parties; her son and Miriam and her family.
    Once again, she looked her husband directly in the eye.
    “You truly don’t want the wedding to take place then?” she tentatively asked, still desperate to hold onto Miriam.
    Begum’s gaze fell. His eyes crushed.
    “I thought I had already made myself obvious! What do you think?” He was enraged and he let her know it.
    “I suppose I agree with what you say, but how are we going to go about it?” Begum stammered, the boldness gone, now very much resigned to both her and Miriam’s fates.
    “I leave that entirely to you – especially as you were the one so hot on the girl. I am sure we can find lots of other women for our son, women who have a more discreet taste in clothing and a good understanding of female modesty. Similarly, I am sure her parents will find a man more suited to her lifestyle than our son, a man who has the capacity to tolerate her particular mode of dressing, for the want of a better word.”
    They heard the front door open. That must be their Farook. They stopped talking and stared at each other. Begum’s heart was thumping away, dreading talking to him about Miriam. She felt like a traitor. Quickly getting up she went into the kitchen to get his dinner. She hoped he would go straight to his room first. Ayub picked up the newspaper and began to read it.

     
    Miriam had just got in from university, when she heard the ’phone ringing. She dashed down from her room to answer it. She faltered - it was Aunt Begum. She quickly obliged Begum in her request to speak to her mother and called her mother. Leaving the ’phone she went into the living room and