Lightness of Being…

The council of concerned mothers and friends met in a closed door hearing to discuss their impending wedding dilemma. Aunty Zuzu was the one who called for the meeting; in attendance were Asma (Fuad’s mother) and Muna (Hanan’s mother). After the pleasantries were exchanged; a cup of tea and assortment of snacks served; Aunty Zuzu cleared her throat:

“I know people think I am stupid. And maybe I am; but one thing I am not is blind. First of all what you are doing is wrong. Who ever heard of a man and a woman dating; chaperone or not; this is not part of our culture at all!”

“But it’s not dating per se. The kids nowadays you know how they are; they want to know each other; make the decision…”  Aunty Asma jumped to her son’s defense.

“Yes, I understand; but in our time no one would even consult the girl! My sister was told the day of her wedding to go inside and get ready because she is getting married. If you give these children an inch they will take a mile…but that is not the purpose of this meeting”

“What is it then?” Both Asma and Muna were a trifle annoyed at her lecturing; it wasn’t a new concept to let the kids meet, for fiancés have long been allowed in living rooms at least to meet and talk with their future bride. The meeting in public part was very new to their culture; but with a chaperone who can dare say it is Haram (sinful)?

Aunty Zuzu continued “This is causing Fitna (trouble) between them. They are meeting and I sense friction; they don’t talk and I feel maybe Fuad doesn’t even like her! Hanan always leaves really depressed; I think if you don’t do something about it the kids themselves will call it off. This is what happens when you let them meet, and prolong this engagement thing. This is not proper at all!”

Asma assured Muna that her son was very interested in Hanan. No one was in the business of forced marriages; the kids wanted each other. To be sure Asma even added that it was Fuad’s idea to approach Hanan; she had nothing to do with it.

“Are you sure Fuad wants her?” Muna was starting to get worried; no one could trust Aunty Zuzu but she had a point. What if Fuad turns around and rejects her daughter? She had been seen with him publicly so many times, what would happen to her reputation? No one would want his “leftovers.”

She felt guilty for arguing with her husband about letting Hanan meet up with Fuad. She had a way of convincing her husband to do pretty much anything, through a combination of her feminine charms and shrewdness. She had pinned down the manner of argumentation to the point of making him feel like it was his idea all along. By the end of that particular persuasion Hanan’s father was the one insisting that his daughter just had to meet Fuad to make sure any kinks were ironed out before they got married rather than after.  What was she going to do now?

Asma’s mind was racing too, it wasn’t Fuad’s idea of course. She knew her little boy could never say no to her; so she primed him for a while before broaching the subject. For weeks she would subtly drop the subject of Hanan whenever Fuad was around. In a very nonchalant way she would talk of how hard it was to find “good” girls nowadays; and how the combination of beauty, intelligence, family, character, religion as well as domesticity was almost nonexistent.

Everyone repeats the famous Hadith (saying of the Prophet Muhammad peace be upon him) on how a woman could be chosen for her beauty, lineage/nobility, wealth or Religiosity (deen); and Deen is the best criteria in choosing a wife.

In their culture the Hadith was kind of turned up side down and confused to the point the repetition said something like “You can choose a woman for beauty, lineage wealth OR Deen” and stopping right there. Deen was simmered down to chastity and other conditions were heaped on.

The real criteria of their culture in choosing a wife was determined by how pretty she was (that’s how light skinned, long straight haired, not too thin or too fat, and preferably light colored eyes; which were very rare); followed by her character (a snob gets a lower rating, although some snobbishness is allowed for in very beautiful cases); and finally domesticity.

On the last point, everyone knew it didn’t matter how intelligent a girl was and what her life path was going to be, she had to know how to cook, clean and raise children because at the end of the day that was her true vocation. Most of the educated girls in their culture, tended to slack in the kitchen. But when Asma paid an impromptu visit to Muna’s house one day, she found Hanan busy rolling chapattis (a type of bread); with various delectable aromas issuing from several pots in their kitchen. The sight of pretty, charming, Hanan slaving away in the kitchen is really what captured Asma’s imagination.

Hanan left what she was doing, welcomed Asma with a gorgeous sincere smile, and apologized for her messy appearance, while ushering her into the living room. Asma was besotted; what a perfect daughter in law Hanan would make!

She couldn’t pretend she hadn’t noticed Fuad’s lack of enthusiasm in his own life changing event. But Hanan comes from a very respectable family as well; she couldn’t let them down like that; it would be a big scandal enough to make her lose face. For what reason could a man have to reject the likes of Hanan? Asma had to come up with something fast.

The three women spent some time in deep thought and finally decided to do the only thing they knew best. They moved the wedding date much closer (than the six month original waiting period they had planned). The new wedding date was set for 2 weeks from that day; and the pact was sealed by a loud delighted ululating of voices; they were suddenly energized; they had so much to do now!

{-}

“Mama are you crazy?” Fuad was hysterical. “Two weeks, I can’t…No, it is too soon, I am not ready…”

“It’s okay sweetie pie. Nothing will really change. You will go to your honeymoon and I have set up a nice suite here for you two to live in. You won’t be moving to campus until next year maybe; so there’s no rush. You see, everything will be just like it is now!”  Asma was trying hard to keep the cheer in her voice, but Fuad was starting to scare her now.

He was sitting on the edge of his bed, his hands holding his head. It was as if he had a huge load; and couldn’t even sit up to support it.

She knelt down next to him “Ya Nur uyuni (Oh light of my eyes)” She started with her favorite pet name “What’s wrong? What’s grieving you? Tell your mother I will take the burden from your shoulders!”

Fuad just shook his head, fighting to keep the tears and frustration contained within him.

“Mama it’s not anything… I just can’t get married now. You have to understand”

“Why? Why do you want to break my old heart? Do you want me on my deathbed without ever laying eyes on my gorgeous grandchildren? Nothing will change, I will still be here for you; you will always be my little baby” Asma knew all the right things to say to move his sweet soul.

“But mama…” Fuad was weakening, he opened and closed his mouth but no words could find their way out.

“It’s okay, you don’t worry about it. I will take care of everything. My darling comfort of my soul; you just relax….” Her voice was soothing; she gathered his head to her bosom and kissed his forehead; her own tears falling onto his face.

Fuad knew he was defeated. He just nodded and looked at the floor in numb horror. Something would have to give.

{-}

Their wedding was a jubilant affair. The masses rejoiced at the splendid feasts that were catered; bands imported; and all the special venues were reserved. The reception was designed to be a strictly formal affair; with gorgeous center pieces on each table; dainty wedding favors for each guest; a huge tumbling cake; and waitresses in uniform serving the guests serenaded by smooth background music.

But such a set up in a riotous last minute type culture was doomed from the beginning. Several more hundred guests showed up and managed to sneak in spite of the guards at the door; set to the task of verifying invitation cards and identities. Everyone claimed they didn’t bring any IDs (who brings Ids to a wedding?); so the guards couldn’t really verify the names on the list. Half of them knew the guards from somewhere; so that guaranteed them an entrance regardless of whether they had a card or not. The other half just flirted with them and they ended up going in. Others simply snuck in; in the midst of all the confusion at the gate.

Women milled everywhere; sharing seats with each other; others sitting on the floors between the tables; others on the stairs; some still sat on the edges of the overly decorated stage especially reserved for the bride (later to be joined by her groom).

Fortunately, the organizers (Asma and Muna) included in their budget enough food to serve three hundred more guests give or take. The affair was strictly segregated; so women had a chance to show off their latest fashions and enjoy themselves without having to worry about their husbands’ protective gazes. Some straggling men still managed to peep through the windows but no one cared. Other men didn’t care about “missing out”; the recorded video was bound to make its rounds and end up for their viewing pleasure anyway.

Women ate plentiful of food; danced with abandon and secretly compared each other’s outfits and jewelry. The men on their side too had the same set up; and after the Nikah (actual marriage ceremony) took place; they came with a zeffe (procession) to bring the groom to his wife.

The bride was finally seated on her throne looking like an angelic spectacle of beauty and grace. She was outfitted in a modern white gown; a diamond studded tiara; and simple white gold jewelry. Her hair was gathered up and laced with tiny yasmine flowers bunched with roses. Her glowing skin was accentuated by light make up; and her smile dazzled all those who beheld her.

Fuad walked in dutifully and posed for pictures with his wife and family. He felt like he was walking in a muted nightmare; everything was unreal; hazy; and numb. When the Imam asked him the fated question regarding his consent in marriage; he had a window of opportunity to say “No!” and end the sham; but his courage failed him. He simply nodded and received the hearty hugs and congratulations with the comportment of a man being sent to the gallows.

Such was the lively account of a wedding that was destined to become the talk of town for the longest time to come. When the bride and groom smiled for pictures everyone sighed “aww…look at them! What a perfect couple!”

Their parents couldn’t have been prouder; they were at least assured of one thing; their grandchildren would certainly be gorgeous.

{-}

When all the festivities died down; Fuad and Hanan took an immediate flight out to a private sea side resort in Zanzibar (a neighboring island). Hanan was full of jitters; she kept a nervous patter of conversation going the whole way to the resort. For the first time since knowing him, Fuad actually engaged her. He listened to her conversation, asked questions, he laughed at her jokes. Her initial fears and foreboding were long forgotten, Fuad was indeed the perfect catch.

When they finally reached their suite; they took showers in turn; changed and Fuad suggested they just sleep off their weariness. Hanan was so grateful, at least he didn’t insist on his “husbandly rights” on the first night. He kissed her on the forehead; and soon she was happily in her dreams; while he sat up all night wondering about his fate.

The next day he planned a full day’s worth of activities for them. They went out for a jog together; ate breakfast; browsed the internet. Then they went to explore the island (it was her first visit). The island was pretty small and soon they had exhausted their venues.

Fuad was sweet, sensitive and charming. He opened doors, pulled chairs, he was always solicitous of Hanan asking her opinion and checking up on her every five minutes. She loved the attention he lavished over her. They talked about everything under the sun (almost) and it seemed like their conversations could flow forever.

He enjoyed her company, for Hanan was very quick witted and funny too.  They spent a lot of time on the beach; bouncing humors of each other; philosophizing over life; lying down to trace the clouds with their imaginations and poring over each other’s life stories.

It was like they were best friends in another realm and that was their reintroduction on earth. She felt undeserving of such a blessing in her life; she had learned a long time ago that a husband had the capability of making life absolutely wretched for his wife. She was grateful to Allah for being exempted from that trial.

Fuad too momentarily forgot of all the distance between them and found himself back in his early days; enjoying the company of a woman, this time without the stern cultural restrictions of gender separation.

That night again he kissed her on the forehead without touching her in any other way. Soon Fuad was deep asleep; the exhaustion of the past couple of weeks finally catching up to him. Hanan stayed up late with a vague feeling of unease settling in the pit of her stomach.

{-}