Loving Junaid was so much easier when he was sleeping, thought Afsheen. He was, so much more understanding then. It had been sixteen months since her happiest day. She could remember it like it was a day before. Aalyah was not due yet. She was as impatient as her father though, so it was not long before that Afsheen found herself in the hospital with a frantic father and a brawling baby.
Afsheen was amazed at how her tiny her daughter’s
fingers and toes were; she liked how she nuzzled to her breast while being fed.
How could something this little possibly bring someone this much comfort? She
wondered. The wondering and the feeding happened in concurrence. To Afsheen,
Aalyah was a distraction, a rather adorable one at that, the baby kept her mind
away from pressing problems. “Pressing problems” was tall man with grey eyes
and long fingers that enjoyed playing with whatever it came across. If only
Afsheen had made sure never to find herself in them.
She
met him two years ago; sixteen at the time. She would take the longer route
home hoping to bump into him. It is exceedingly difficult to ignore a man you
desire to have babies with. Loving Azzam seemed like something of a wrongdoing,
yet still there she was vying for his attention. Hoping to please him, she
began learning how to cook. Three months of sleepless nights, pining glances
had been rewarded when Azzam looked at her and raised an eyebrow. Afsheen felt
something behind her chest stop moving. Almost immediately clandestine meetings
were held; their conversations mainly consisted of Afsheen staring at his feet
and Azzam playing with her hair. Although engaged at the time Junaid remained
unacquainted with his fiancés arrangements, which explained the perpetual smirk
on his face. Pity Junaid was a good man, those like him seldom realise what the
pots cooking until their in them sautéing away.
The two were married off soon
after Afsheen turned eighteen. Junaid attested to be a loving husband. He still
addressed her as “aap”, still gave in to her whims, and still kissed her brow
before they made love. There were instances when his wife’s infidelity peeked
from beneath the covers, like when Junaid noticed his daughter’s eyes were so
much like Azzam’s. Junaid’s love was not only blind but insisted others saw
what he
did.
Although having played the role
rather credibly, Azzam’s mind deemed Junaid the “other man”. The covetous rage
that should have been growing in Junaid’s chest was swelling in Azzams instead.
Fathering Aalyah was merely a way of punishing Junaid.
Of late Afsheen had been avoiding Azaam he
was now asking for more than her conscience was willing to overlook. Junaid on
the other hand was growing rather sore, Aalyah was starting to resemble Azzam a
little more each day. He was slowly catching on. It bought about a change in
his behaviour he no more cared if she if she had a bad day, he no more made
promises to her saying he would always be there, if anything he seemed to be
getting difficult, hostility had found its way into their relationship, he
barely spoke he had slowly begun to see his wife for what she really was.
Something was amiss.
“Just a few drops” said Azzam pressing a bottle to her palm “it will be
painless.” “We can be together then” he lied. She held the bottle promising
nothing.
Junaid returned from work late that evening, habit led his fingers around the
glass of milk. He drained it instantly. Before he knew it his head hit the bed,
narrowly missing the pillow.
Afsheen returned a tiny bottle to its drawer and watched Junaid. Loving Junaid
was so much easier when he was sleeping thought Afsheen.
