Namal (English Translation) By Nimra Ahmed

Chpt 5: In sickness and in health

In Sickness and in Health

O Gulab,

Tum bimaar ho.

Naadeeda keys ajurat mein udta hai.

Barashtay toofan mein.

Usne tumhara bistar dhoondh liya hai.

Laal lutf ka.

Aur uska gehra khufiya ishq

Tumhari zindagi ko barbaad kar chuka hai.

(William Blake ki nazm "Sick Rose")

Maujooda din se chaar saal pehle

(Waris Ghazi ke qatal se teen din pehle)

O Rose,

You are ill.

The unseen keys fly in the winds of the invisible.

In the pouring storm.

It has found your bed.

Of red delight.

And its deep secret love has

Ruined your life.

(William Blake's poem "Sick Rose")

Four years before the present day

(Three days before the murder of Waris Ghazi)

In the small kitchen of Zulfikar Yusuf's house, a mischievous silence prevailed. On the counter were two dishes. One was empty, and the other held a freshly baked cake filled with cream after its layers had been cut. The cake needed to be transferred to the other clean dish. Saadi watched Haneen, who was rolling up his sleeves and approaching the cake, then pulling his hand back.

"Should I put it in?"

"Be careful. It's soft. It will break, and don't touch it." She said angrily.

"Should I touch it?" Saadi asked, extending his finger. Haneen sharply swatted his finger away and pulled back.

"I'll throw you off the roof. The plaster will be done for your aunt's (phuppu) wedding. These days, Haneen always mentions her aunt's wedding, which is two weeks away."

"Stop talking nonsense. All the time." Nadrat glared at him with a ladle. Saadi laughed heartily. "Come on! Hasn't Mom found any other weapons against us besides ladles, shoes, and slippers?"

Nadira, despite herself, ended up laughing and turned towards the stove. Hina was still standing there, hesitantly reaching for it when the phone rang.

"Answer it." Nadira called out to Saadi, and Saadi looked at haneen. Then with a look, he indicated that haneen should handle it. "You're closer, you pick it up." It was an unspoken rule that whoever was closest would do the task. Haneen sighed and went to the lounge. She returned shortly. Again rolling up her sleeves, she answered the phone.

It was Aunt Zarita. Calling Zarita "Aunt" felt odd, given that she was about ten or eleven years older, but Haneen had gotten used to it over the past five months. What was she saying? She ignored Nadira's question and carefully lifted the cake from the base. She placed it gently onto the other dish, then straightened up with a sigh of relief. Saadi was still smiling.