The Fallen Widow

2. River of Joy.

The long meandering line of woman snaked their way towards the narrow path down to the river. It was Friday, laundry day. Dressed in a fabulous array of iridescence colours, their faces veiled from the passersby, the ladies of Chiragpur carried the heavy bundles of dirty clothes skillfully on their head. This wasn't a mundane chore. Laundry day was a day of joy, of friends socializing and escaping their confined houses. It was a subdued secret celebration.

On their way to the river, they'd pass Beh Taaj. Huddled in a corner, dressed in dusty brown clothes Beh Taaj singling melodious odes for the Prophet (PBUH). Everyone knew the old woman and could hear her shaky croaky voice before they saw her. This time she sat under the shade of the banyan tree, with her eyes closed, with sharp protruding cheekbones. She swayed side to side with her knees tucked against her chest.

In the line of women, was Meh'r-Bano dressed in a fuchsia kameez having escaped from the barn only this morning. Last night, Shafiq crept into the barn when everyone else fell asleep.

He couldn't leave her there all night. He couldn't sleep. So, when his mother was asleep, he opened the padlock and tiptoed to console his wife. Meh'r-Bano was curled beside their buffalo stroking his moist nose, the only companion for tonight. Shafiq couldn't bear it, he loved her from the depths of his heart. But she was a difficult woman to love with her crazy ideas. Why couldn't she be normal like the rest? With a basket of roti and a glass of milk he made his way towards her and sat beside her.
"Here, I bought you some food."
But Meh'r-Bano was in no mood to eat. She'd lost her appetite. Shafiq knew he had to work hard to gain her affection.
"Why do you make me do these things? I am bound. Come and eat. I haven't eaten." Said Shafiq

Meh'r-Bano felt a pang of guilt feeling responsible for husband's empty stomach. She pitied him. Despite running his own garage, he was heavily influenced by his strong-minded mother. He loved Meh'r-Bano but clandestine. He cared for her when no one was watching and she found it sweet. From the moment she met him on the roadside when he fixed her father's punctured tyre, she knew he was a good man, but sometimes his insecurity was his worst enemy. He was skinny, wiry and rarely put on weight. Shafiq felt inferior to her and Meh'r-Bano had to die out her colours to make him feel secure. Tonight, she did just that. She clenched her thoughts, passions shut to make sure he ate a morsel of food. Tomorrow was laundry day, she couldn't miss that for anything.

At the river, the women quickly absorbed into their routines and began to wallop the clothes against the boulders beating the shirts clean. Some scrubbed soap into the shirts and washed the crisp white shirts beating them clean. Cows, buffalos sunbathed in the shallow water whilst children jumped off them like a diving board. Down by the river it was an electric atmosphere, laughter, singing, splashing, bathing. Here they were free to chat, laugh and enjoy their day in the company of their friends.

A long swing tied from the branches swung long and high with girls taking turns to push each other. One sitting, the other standing and splashing her feet in the shallow river below. Some twisted their scarves into a plait of a skipping rope and jumped splashing into the shallow waters.

Soon the women broke out in their customary song, singing in unison, clapping, splashing and dancing with their colourful scarves waving up and down in the air, naturally air dying.

Amidst the melodious streams of sounds playing in the theatre on the river, the women waved at Meh'r-Bano for her turn. They all called out her name for her to sing her verse cheering loudly. Meh'r-Bano stepped upon the large boulder, head and shoulders above the women, she tilted her tulips lips up into the fresh cool air, her chestnut brown tresses fanned by the wind. Meh'r-Bano closed her eyes and pressed her right hand to her right ear. Softly, her delicate voice sang out whilst the women clapped rhythmically in a chorus.