Risen from dust

Thirteen

Despite Mr. Chaudhary's refusal to acknowledge Saleem, the funeral proceeded smoothly, with heartfelt condolences offered for the deceased. Mariam's mother proved to be the most difficult to console, as she continued to wail inconsolably since receiving the news. Saleem thought it would be best to give her some space, considering she had just lost her only daughter. It had been a long and emotionally draining day for everyone, particularly for Noor, who wasn't accustomed to being surrounded by a crowd of people.

When someone passes away, it feels like the gap in your gum when a tooth falls out. You can still bite and eat, as you have plenty of other teeth, but your tongue keeps gravitating towards that empty space where all the nerves are still raw. Like a recently formed void in the mouth, the absence left by the passing of someone we had grown accustomed to having around takes time to adjust to. It was easier said than done, especially since Chaudhary Sahib still refused to acknowledge his own son.

"Abba jaan, please reconsider. He wants to reconcile with you. Can't you give him another chance?" Harris pleaded.

"If Saleem hadn't deceived Mariam, she wouldn't have left. Her mother wouldn't be shedding tears like a river, and she would still be alive," Chaudhary Sahib retorted bitterly.

"Aunty is stable now. Noor is with her, trying to keep her calm. Abba, life is unpredictable. One day, you're running around, enjoying time with your wife, laughing with friends, playing silly games with your kids. And the next day, those very people whom you deeply cherish can be taken away from you in the blink of an eye. Saleem feels remorseful. You should have seen him. It was as if he woke up from a terrible nightmare and despised every second of it," Ayyub explained, attempting to sway his father's heart.

"He's a good kid. He easily falls under the influence of the evil around him, often not realizing the wrong he's doing until it's too late. I just wanted to teach him a lesson, which is why I banned him from ever coming back. Life, it seems, played its own trick on him and took away the very thing he destroyed our family for. He always saw himself as superior and arrogant, but now he can't even meet his own father's gaze," Chaudhary Sahib expressed with a mix of disappointment and resentment.

Unbeknownst to them, Saleem stood outside the door, listening intently to every word his father uttered about him. Everything was crumbling around him, and he had brought it upon himself. He had once believed he would rise to the top of the world, becoming a chief executive officer in New York. He possessed the intelligence, determination, and drive, but he had ultimately dragged himself down.

Clearing his throat to signal his presence, Saleem stepped into the room. "Saleem, Abba was just asking about you," Harris said, casting a pleading glance at Abba.

"Um, yes. I'm here. I'd like to have a chat with you," Saleem replied, looking at his father. Harris and Ayyub left, praying fervently that things would eventually return to normal.

3 years ago, 1988 Lahore

Harris found himself caught in a massive dilemma. Just hours ago, the woman who had given birth to him was within his reach, yet he hadn't said anything other than console her for abandoning him. Whatever her reasons might have been, she had left him behind to suffer. He pondered over the days when he longed to be in his mother's arms, wiping away his tears, but she never came.

Lost in thought, Harris was jolted back to reality when he heard a faint noise in the background. "Harris, I've been talking to you for the past minute, and you didn't respond. I think you should go talk to her. After all she's been through, she deserves to know you're her son."

"Deserves is a strong word. She doesn't deserve anything. Do you remember how I used to wait for her every day by the gates, hoping she would return one day?" Tears streamed down his cheeks as he spoke. "Can you imagine a young boy, who seemingly had it all— a loving family, good friends, and enough wealth to support twenty families—yet still felt like something was missing from his life? I was an emotional roller coaster, and nobody could understand what I was going through. I couldn't talk to Abba because he was busy with his new wife and kids. I felt hollow, lonely. Can she ever fill that void? Can she go back and fix the broken little boy I was? No, she can't."

"This isn't you, Harris. You don't seek revenge on people for what they've done to you; you forgive. She was in a tough spot, so cut her some slack," the person urged.

Harris didn't respond. He left the apartment, mumbling something about needing fresh air to think. Stepping out into the dark of the night, he had no specific destination in mind; he simply let his feet guide him. While Mariam's words held some truth, Harris couldn't erase the pain he had endured due to that one decision she made without even consulting Abba. As he wandered the streets, he spotted an old lady sitting in a corner. She appeared severely beaten and her clothes were tattered. By all appearances, she seemed like a homeless beggar. The moment their eyes met, she stood up and pleaded, "Son, please give me some money. I have two kids at home who desperately need food and clothes. I've been sitting here since dawn and haven't earned a single penny. No one here is helping me. My husband left me, and I have nowhere to go. He's threatened my children, and they're vulnerable right now. I just need some money to get them out of this city before he comes after them. If you give me enough cash to take my sons away from here, I will be very grateful. As for me, I can stay with my husband and manage on my own."

The irony was not lost on Harris. He had come out here to sort out his own problems, not to get entangled in another web. "Listen, Aunty ji, what you're doing is undoubtedly reckless and thoughtless. Have you ever considered how your children will survive without you? They'll be living in distress and might end up associating with immoral people just to have food on their plates. Come with me. I'll get you cleaned up and give you enough money to take your whole family with you."

She hesitated at first, but her desperation got the best of her, and she agreed. The walk back home was quiet, and this unexpected encounter helped Harris see some of his thoughts in a new light. Perhaps Mariam was right on this occasion—Sairah deserved to know the truth of the situation. He asked Mariam to assist the old lady and explain the entire story to her. "Give her something to eat as well. She has a long day ahead of her. I'll be back in a bit. I just need to have a word with our neighbor."

Mariam nodded empathetically. She felt for him, understanding the turmoil he was going through. She could see the confusion in his eyes. Harris rang the doorbell, second-guessing whether what he was about to do was the right thing or if it would just take a toll on him.

"Harris, Assalamu Alaikum! I wasn't expecting you. Come in, my child. I apologize for the mess beforehand," the neighbor greeted him with a cheerful tone. However, it was evident that she had been crying for the past hour or so, with puffy redness around her eyes, a red nose, and dried tears on her cheeks.

Harris cleared his throat before speaking, as he too was an emotional wreck. "Oh no, it's fine. I'm sorry for intruding at such an odd time of the night, but what I have to say is something very important, and I don't think I can wait any longer."

"Yes, of course. Would you like some tea, juice, or water? Have a seat while I go get you something to nibble on," she offered.

"No, thanks. I just had dinner. Could you please sit down and hear me out?"

The neighbor grew concerned and asked, "It's Mariam, isn't it? Is she okay?" Harris was taken aback by her genuine concern for his wife's well-being.

"She's in perfect condition. Don't worry. What I'm about to say may come as a shock to you, but it's the truth. I am your son, the child you deserted. I lied about my mother passing away because I didn't want people prying into the details of her whereabouts. It's just easier to fabricate that story."

They both broke down in tears. "Oh Harris, you don't know how long I've been waiting for this moment." She took his face in her hands and kissed him all over, uttering words she didn't even realize she was saying. "But you shouldn't have told me. You can't be defenseless in any way. I did all this for you."

Harris pushed her away and stood up, seething with rage. "I'm not a toddler anymore, and you don't get to make my choices. I can protect myself, my family, and my mother. You don't have to run anymore, Amma."

"I don't know what good deed I did that Allah blessed me with such a virtuous son."

"I mean it, Amma. We're going to the haveli this weekend. You have to come with us. There's no room for refusal."

That weekend turned into a lurid, terrible nightmare, straight out of a horror movie. Instead of everything falling into place, the cards scattered in all directions, leaving them with no chance of saving themselves.