ROUHI

two

On a cold night out in the rural neighbourhood, Saaqib was smoking his second cigarette with Khaled and Rasheed, two of the people who had negative influence on him, as Bilal, his previously best mate, had said anyway before moving to the city with his wife. It was nearly ten but that didn't cross Saaqib's mind, nor did the fact that Hafsa would most obviously be awake, waiting to have dinner with him since at least an hour ago, because he had promised in the morning to return home by nine.

"I'm looking for a third wife," Rasheed announced and Saaqib quirked an eyebrow. He hardly ever noticed Hafsa anymore, except for the times when she would keep on blabbering about how he should return home earlier, have homemade food, and quit smoking. Saaqib couldn't do any of this and he had already told her many times but Hafsa still kept going on so he just stayed quiet and nodded so she would shut up. He didn't get why Rasheed would want a third wife when he could barely put up with one.

"Man's got his needs, aye?" Khaled asked smugly.

Rasheed chuckled and sighed. "Both of them- he says, refering to his wives -always seem so weary nowadays, the house has become gloomy. I need excitement inside my home, and a new bride can bring just that."

Saaqib silently listened to their conversation about their problematic wives. Was what Rasheed had said, true? If yes, should he get a second wife? Maybe he would find a reason to be happy about going home?

No, he shouldn't.

Hafsa was enough already. He didn't need more women annoying him.

***

Hafsa was, like always, sitting on the ground, her back leant against the old blue wall of the living room, and reading a book that had to have been bought at least 20 years ago and taken care of very poorly. She was alone most of the time at home, save for when her neighbours Fatima and Maryam Khala would come with their little kids to share some of the halwa or cakes they had made. Hafsa felt guilty for not being able to make anything for them. Saaqib didn't buy more than what was efficient for a woman and a man.

Saaqib entered and thought again about what Rasheed had said. He took in Hafsa's appearance after a very long time. She was wearing an indigo salwar kameez and her hair was open. Saaqib tried finding whatever he had seen in her three years ago, before he had proposed her father for his daughter's hand in marriage.

Her side profile, the way she sat with her knees bent, the book placed on them, the movement of her eyes down the page as she read, her index and middle fingers holding its corner, the concentration she had, her change of expression, the sudden little twitch of her toes...

Saaqib tried hard.

But he just couldn't see it.

"I'm going to bed. I'm not hungry."