Serenity

Our kind

Shaista looked into the mirror and willed her dark skin to become white,  her cheeks to become filled with color. Her flat features to become carved and her small eyes to become large and beautiful. She wanted to look like the Danaii girl, desperately. But even though she wore her clothes and the silver chains graced her ankles she did not resemble her one little bit.

She carried the bowl of shumleh to her weary brother. He paused while drinking and set the bowl aside

'Why are you wearing anklets Shaista?'

She shifted uncomfortably
'Why can't I?'

'Because it is not a custom of our tribe to wear them'

'Sakina wears them'

He sighed in irritation
'Are you Sakina? You know her tribe is known for wearing jewelry and we are not. Since when did one qabeela imitate the customs of another?'

'Why is it so bad? Why should it matter?'

'Because Pukhtuns have their own identity we do not seek to be other people'

'I like anklets'

'Today you like their customs tomorrow you will seek to be them, I tell you from experience the Danaii do not like to be imitated, neither are they kind to strangers. Forget what Sakina does Shaista and be content with what you have.'

He paused and traced the bowl

'In our tribe the women wear barchawai, Do you ever see Sakina wearing it? Do you think she will ever wear it? No she holds unto her tribe and her customs'

He suddenly looked closely at her clothing. The dress hung at awkward angles, the shoulders were too tight and the length too long

'Are you wearing Sakina's clothing? And are those her anklets?'

Her face paled
'I--'

'Take them off Shaista!'

'You don't like seeing someone else in her clothing'

'No I don't--'

Sakina herself walked in, the tray of food in her hands. She calmly set it down and faced Shaista. She was terrified of the slight girl

'Your dress looks very familiar to mine..'

She stepped closer 'and my anklets'

Zalmai tugged on her arm 'Sakina khkulai Jaan leave it, I will get you a hundred dresses and anklets as many as you wish'

Despite her fear, Shaista was hurt, her brother had never addressed her in such a way and yet he called this stranger by such a affectionate endearment. She knew her brother liked her, he had expressed the wish to his mother after he had returned from Sardaar Zaraar's tribe. That he would only marry Sakina Danaii. That was a problem though because every unmarried man in Pakhtunkhwa wanted the niece of Sardaar Zaraar to be his bride. Zalmai was fortunate the powerful leader liked him enough to accept his proposal.

It seemed that Sakina too had been affected by the name he called her, she forgot that Shaista had worn her possessions and allowed him to lead her away. The girl accepted the bowl of shumleh from him and listened willingly as he recounted the new river they had found. How its waters were a tropical blue, so clear you could see the white sands beneath and the colourful plants inside. How on the bank of the river grew the most beautiful and fragrant flowers and besides it the sweetest pomegranates. He promised to take Sakina there for a whole day so she could explore it.

It wasn't fair she wanted to hear Zalmai's story, she wanted to go and see the river and spend a moment there. She knew the girl's powerful tribe would clear the area of all men so she could wander around as she pleased.

In anger she stacked the hay bales on top of one another on the roof.

The man watching grew exited as the girl walked out but it soon became clear to him that she wasn't Zalmai's wife. No, that girl had walked and carried herself in such a way it made him want to look on. This one was plain and she looked like...his people. A Mongolian woman in the house of a Pukhtun? How had that occurred? The girl had seen him watching her and she too had realized he was of her kind. He didn't find any interest in this girl but he pretended because ultimately she would help him achieve the revenge he had promised Zalmai.

Shaista had found someone, from her own kind, she came to the rooftop everyday, he told her he liked her better than the Pukhtun women, the Mongolians had a beauty these women did not have. And she fell into each one of his lies...