Page 37 of First Comes Marriage
She answered his smile with one of her own. ‘I’m listening.’
He took a deep breath and then told her about their family dynamic when he’d been younger.
‘My grandfather was a traditionalist and had very firm ideas about what he considered to be right and wrong. The margin of grey between the two was very small. My mum was his choice of daughter-in-law so he considered her “right”. My aunt – his younger son’s wife, that is – was my uncle’s choice and so my grandfather never made a secret of his disapproval, though Daadi was more accepting. Personally, I could never understand why he was against the match. They seemed happy with each other. Anyway, my uncle’s son, Qais, was born a year before I was and while everyone was happy at his birth, it was nothing compared to the celebration when I was born. In my grandfather’s eyes, his true heir had been born. Not only was I a son, I was his eldest son and chosen daughter-in-law’s child. And when my aunt then had a daughter while my mother gave birth to another four sons, you can imagine my grandfather’s different responses to them.’
Reshma could imagine all too well, sadly. It didn’t seem to matter what century they lived in, some people would always celebrate the birth of a son more than that of a daughter and Zafar’s grandfather had been of that ilk.
‘Anyway, when we were kids, we didn’t realise anything was different as such. We all got on with playing and going to school and just being children, but my grandfather always treated us differently. He treated me really well, while he treated the others, especially Qais and Safiya, with less affection. In his eyes, I was the heir, I could do no wrong and anyone who tried to say anything to me would face his wrath, which meant I got off scot-free on many an occasion. Everyone was scared of him.’
‘That’s dreadful.’ Her mind went to her own father and the difference in his approach to her and his other children. ‘I can’t understand how people can treat children so differently. I know people have favourites, but to treat children like that is so … unpleasant.’ She would have used stronger language, but she was mindful that they were speaking about his grandfather. The wordabhorrentfelt more apt.
‘You can say that again. To be fair, it was only him that did that. No one else was as divisive. As for me, I made sure I always did what he would want or expect me to do. Any praise from him made my day and when it came to him, I didn’t even listen to my parents. For me, my grandfather’s word was the law. I chose my subjects at school with him, any extra-curricular activities had his approval and if I wasn’t at school or with my brothers, I could be found with him.
‘As I got older though, I saw his divisive behaviour for what it was. I couldn’t understand why he didn’t give Qais the time of day as his eldest grandson and treated me asthough I was the eldest. There was no question that I was his favourite. Big clue in the name.’ He laughed, but the sound held no mirth.
Of course. He was named after his grandfather – Zafar Saeed II. The things he was telling her had Reshma gaping in disbelief. If someone else had told her this story about Zafar’s family, she wouldn’t have believed them in a million years. Even now, she found it hard to believe. The fact that a man could behave like that and then actually get away with that behaviour. But then she thought of her own father and the way he had behaved and decided that it was entirely possible.
As he spoke, Zafar sounded bitter and resentful, two emotions she would never have associated with him. There was a coldness about him which she hadn’t encountered before and it was unsettling. But she wouldn’t stop him, she could sense there was more he had to say. Reshma wondered if Zafar had ever said these words out loud. Probably not. Who would he have shared them with? Later, she would wonder at the fact that he felt able to tell her.
‘As I got older and started seeing the world through the lens of Zafar Saeed II rather than Zafar Saeed I, I started seeing the reality of what my grandfather had set up, the order he had put in place. But rather than cause any conflict, in my own way I tried to involve those my grandfather neglected – mainly Qais, Saf and Ash. Ibrahim, Rayyan and Haroon didn’t really feature because they were that much younger at the time. He treated them like the children they were.
‘Even though I was “The Chosen One”, I tried not to let it become a thing between me and the others and, to be fair, it didn’t. No one knew any better to begin with and when we did, we just went along with the status quobecause no one ever went against my grandfather’s decree. But once Safiya had graduated my grandfather arranged her marriage with a guy who lives here in Kenya. She told him she wasn’t in agreement, but he didn’t listen. Daadi and my uncle also tried to get him to change his mind, but he didn’t listen to them either. He laughed Qais and Ash out of the room when they tried and so I went to him.’
Reshma swallowed the dryness in her throat, the tension in her gut tightening with each sentence Zafar spoke in the retelling of this part of his family history. She sensed he was getting to a part of this whole tale which had had a deep impact on him.
‘Can I get you anything else? Sir? Madam?’ The waiter had silently approached the table and Reshma realised that they’d finished their food and it was time to leave.
Zafar paid the bill, thanking the waiter, and they both made their way down to the beach from the restaurant deck, deciding to take a walk back to the villa the scenic way.
The churning in her gut had abated a bit with the enforced break in Zafar’s story and with the moonlight glinting off the water and the waves splashing against the sand, Reshma felt some ease work its way into her muscles. She hadn’t appreciated how tense she had become sitting there listening to what he had to say. Zafar presented such a perfect front to the world and yet there was a great degree of sorrow hidden within him that he kept tucked away from everyone.
She glanced his way. He was looking down at the sand as they strolled along the beach, his hands tucked into his trouser pockets, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows. Going with her gut, Reshma linked her arm through his and, aside from pausing momentarily at theinitial shock of it, Zafar kept going, squeezing her arm against his side and holding her close.
It was amazing how in just one day, she felt as comfortable as she did with him. Enough that she was initiating contact. She needed to be careful though, otherwise she’d fall back into old feelings in a heartbeat and that was exactly what she’d promised herself she wouldn’t do.
Except, for some reason, she felt completely detached from everything in that moment. From their history, their personal issues and the lead-up to both of them being in Mombasa. It all felt like something that she ought to remember to take into account tomorrow, but for just that evening she could put it to one side and concentrate on them.
There was something about the openness and vulnerability Zafar had shown her that had melted some of her reservations. She wanted to hold on to that for a bit longer and see where it took them.
‘You said Safiya’s marriage was arranged here in Kenya. Does she live here? Are you going to try to see her while we’re here?’
In the silence surrounding them – save for the sound of the water – she heard him take a deep breath and let it out slowly. ‘Yeah, she lives in Nairobi. Daadi told me that Safiya might be coming to Saleema’s wedding. It turns out that Uncle Imtiaz’s mother has some distant connection with Saf’s in-laws and they’ve been invited. There’s a chance we might see her. To be honest, that’s the only way we’d get to see her. Since her wedding, she’s not spoken to any of us.’
‘That’s such a shame, given how close you guys were.’
‘Maybe that’s why. I let her down, Reshma. I failed her. Qais, Ash and I fought on her behalf with our grandfatherand while he didn’t give them any airtime, he tried to reason with me about how it was the best decision for Safiya. In the end, his decision prevailed and it’s been six years since we’ve seen or spoken to Safiya. She refused to have anything to do with the family. After her wedding, when the rest of us went back to London, nothing was the same. Our family broke down and it was … it was all my grandfather’s fault.’
The words came out in a rush, but Reshma could tell the depth of emotion Zafar felt as he tried to drill it down to basics. His body language told a story of its own. He looked so tightly wound up, she feared he might well snap.
She hadn’t paid attention to when her other hand had clasped around his arm so she was holding onto him, their steps slow and measured as they followed the route through the beach back to the villa.
After a few moments of tense silence in which she could hear Zafar’s harsh breathing and the drumbeat of her own pulse in her ears, Reshma sucked in a deep breath to try to calm the tension she felt in her chest at what she’d heard. It was in complete contrast to what she had believed about the dynamic of the family she was married into. It was like seeing a hidden dark part of a sunny picture. Something which couldn’t be unseen after that.
‘If the decision was your grandfather’s, why did Safiya stop speaking to everyone else?’ she asked gently.
He looked her way, lines bracketed his mouth and his eyes appeared dull and tired in the faint moonlight. He’d run his fingers through his hair and half of it stood up at odd angles, while the other half was still neatly styled as it fell back into its layers.
‘Safiya’s marriage shattered our family in more ways than one, Reshma.’ He huffed out a laugh and its chillmade a shiver skate down her spine. ‘It shattered lives. Mine included.’
