Short stories (true)

Set your son's free

Wajahat's story - A story that happens in most homes. An eye opener.

"I was only 18 years old when I was married. Young, innocent and completely oblivious to the world. In 9 months I welcomed my first son into the world. Two years later we had a second son. Whilst my first son was mediocre, my second son was the most beautiful baby in the world. He was fair, plump, with rosy cheeks and soon became the apple of my eye.

He was only 2 months old when we lost his father in a tragic car accident, leaving me a widow at only 22 with two children under the age of five. I was devastated. We moved back in with my parents and they helped me bring up my little family. My father was very supportive financially, seeing to all their needs and both my mother and father helped a great deal in their upbringing whilst I joined sewing classes in order to become more independent and eventually support myself. Needless to say I sewed many a peoples clothes over the years and became something of myself, whilst my two little boys grew up to be like any other children around. Both parents eventually returned to the Almighty, leaving the family home to me and my children.

My older son got married at an early age and his new wife was welcomed into the family with alot of excitement. It didn't take long for the problems to begin however. I was a woman of my own mind and so was she. We never saw eye to eye on anything till finally things got so bad I retreated to a safe distance and left the running of the kitchen to her for my own peace of mind. Eventually the time came for my younger son, my beautiful child that I loved so much to get married. Don't get me wrong, I love both of my sons, but this son was my baby, the one I felt so much more for as he never really got to know his father. He was also different in character to my older son. Whilst my older one was a boys boy who showed very little affection physically as he grew older, my younger one forever showered me with hugs and kisses. He was soft and emotional, my own little teddybear.

The search for the perfect wife carried on for many years. Suggestions from aunties, friends, bio-datas from all over. No one was good enough for my perfect boy. Eventually one day, my son came home and said "Mum I think I've found her". My heart burst with happiness but at the same time I felt a little tinge of sadness. She was a sweet girl Noorie, fair and beautiful, well-mannered and respectable. They matched perfectly. I gave my consent and we had a huge wedding with alot of pomp and show. Off they went on their honeymoon and I missed my son terribly. I would call him every day with tears brimming in my eyes and sadness in my heart. We had never been apart that long. They were finally back after ten days and real life began.

Noorie was very helpful and very cheerful, trying to fit in as best she could. The household was already being run by Farhana, my older daughter in law and Noorie became her nameless faceless servant, her minion. I would see and hear it myself many a day, the orders being barked, the scolding, but Noorie never retaliated and neither did her smile leave her gentle face. Not wanting to rock the boat as my older son was always touchy about my younger one being the favourite, I let matters slide. They could sort it out amongst themselves. So long as dinner-time and family-time were pleasant with everyone, including Farhana and Noorie being nice to each other, regardless of whether it was genuine or faked, I was confident I could carry on turning a blind eye and feign obliviousness.

Not too long after though, after seeing a very puffy eyed Noorie my younger son came to complain to me. He said just as I'd been dreading that Noorie was being bullied and that something needed to be done. Either the women given turns in the kitchen or something but it could not carry on this way.

Something in me flipped. I don't know what it was, maybe seeing my son being so defensive over another woman or whatever it was, I started to become this jealous green monster even I had no control over. I did as suggested, I set down the rules and gave each daughter in law turns. Farhana was of course a very unhappy woman after that. Tight-lipped and somber. Noorie remained her chirpy self but her chirpiness became a huge irritation to me. I have always prided myself on my cooking and my boys have always been brought up with the mindset of their mum being the best cook in the world. Even when we went out to eat while they were growing up or ate at others houses I'd make sure I'd give them a whole critique of the food. Only my food was perfect and they believed it. Two boys with only a mother in the world, why wouldn't they?