Risen from dust

Fourteen

The couple ventured further into the village, the rustic charm enveloping them with each step. The sight of houses constructed from straw, bamboo, and clay showcased the resourcefulness of the villagers, who harmonized with the natural elements surrounding them. Women gracefully balanced clay pots upon their heads, a skill passed down through generations, as they made their way to the well near the river, a lifeline for the community.

Mariam couldn't help but contrast the scene before her with the orderly chaos of city life. The absence of synchronization, the absence of people hurrying with a purpose, was refreshing in its own way. She wrinkled her nose, unable to mask her aversion to the pungent smell that lingered in the air. "I never thought I would be saying this, but city life has spoiled me. I never noticed before, but the stench here is ghastly. It's like having poop right under my nose," she commented, her voice laced with a mixture of amusement and discomfort.

Harris chuckled at her reaction, his laughter echoing through the village lanes. "Have you turned into a spoiled young brat, missy?" he teased. "Let me remind you that this is the same place where you used to run around barefoot, with cow dung smeared all over your feet." He playfully evoked a memory from their childhood, a mischievous glimmer in his eyes.

Mariam blushed at the recollection, momentarily forgetting her distaste for the smell. She was not accustomed to public displays of affection, especially in the rural side of the country where such gestures were considered inappropriate. However, she knew that stopping Harris would only encourage his teasing further. In a lighthearted response, she said, "Well, I guess you're right. Cow dung on my feet was a small price to pay for the adventures we had as children." Harris leaned in and kissed her on the nose, a tender gesture that conveyed both love and a shared history. "There, now you have something much better than the odor of 'shit' on that pretty nose of yours."

Her cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink, a mixture of embarrassment and fondness. She couldn't help but smile at his playful nature. "You're impossible," she whispered, her eyes sparkling with affection.

Sairah loved the raillery between the two, it took her mind off what was instore in the upcoming few minutes. The village looked exactly just as she recalled, the soil smelt like the aftermath of a rain, children playing with the pebbles and stones they scavenged from the muddy grounds, it made her feel like she was finally at home, at the same time, fear gripped her by the throat, she was enormously terrified as she didn't know what to say when she saw her husband; How would he react? Would he be ecstatic at the sight of her or would he run the other way? Harris had mentioned that his father had remarried and now had two other offspring's, both boys. She didn't want to intrude into his already set lifestyle, but Harris insisted on her coming and reassured her that Waliya was an astounding, humble woman and wouldn't make a fuss.

Mariam too was frantic about her own situation with the folks of the village, the moment she got out of the car, people around gathered to see the spectacle before them. Harris with the runaway poor girl and an old woman they didn't recognise.

"Asalam O Alaikum, don't you people have anything better to do? Don't just stand there and gape at other people's business, it's rude."

"Sahab jee, it's a free world, we can stand anywhere we want and stare at anyone we want."

Harris could feel the anger bubbling inside him, fueled by the derogatory comments and the villagers' open hostility towards Mariam. They stared at her with judgmental eyes, as if she were an enigma they couldn't comprehend. He couldn't stand idly by while they disrespected his wife.

"You people and your narrow-mindedness disgust me. Your mindset and reasoning are pathetic, and I won't waste my time banging on the wall with you," Harris retorted, his voice filled with frustration.