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Child Brides of India
By: C. Stanton Leman
Chapter 65: Misogyny (Mgg, rom, cons, no sex)
After being slapped across the face and given a few more
facts of life from Mom, then on top of that Priya agrees
with her, I wasn't having a good morning.
The confusing thing for me was that I thought I WAS
fighting the battles that mattered. Wasn't protecting
Haseeba's safety and future a good battle? Being worried
frantic for the safety of a helpless three year-old: isn't
THAT a good fight?
It finally dawned on me that it wasn't the battles I was
fighting so much as the attitude I had in trying to fight
them. Simply because I wasn't the "mover or shaker" in both
of these issues, I was acting childish. All my life,
everything came easy for me: born with money, good looks
and very high intelligence (Mom would say that's open for debate).
I guess my primary way of dealing with things was, if I
couldn't out-think an issue I'd throw money at it. Now, I
wasn't the main player, now I had to rely on others. After
realizing this, I scoffed and scolded myself for ultimately
being a lousy "team" player.
I wasn't very good in the patience department either. I
can
remember Mom saying when I was a kid, "Don't ever pray for
patience. God will bring so many things into your life that
require patience it'll drive ya crazy."
I guess I didn't have a choice except to wait for others
to
help resolve these issues. Mom and Priya were right in that
Adib and Salima were moral and honorable people capable of
doing what's tight, it WAS a good thing that Alpa called her sister.
I needed to get my mind off things, so after returning
to
the house, Priya and Mom looked at me as I sat down at the
table. I apologized by saying, "Look Mom, I'm sorry if I
seemed insensitive and uncaring about things. I did see and
do understand the significance of yesterday's events. It's
just that when I want to help people like Faatina or
Haseeba, I get impatient and sometimes it's hard for me to
rely on others."
"I'm sorry too Sean," Mom replied, "I,
like you, am
frustrated at things and took it out on you. I'm frustrated
by the fact that the men in this country have the
prevailing attitude that a woman is a possession and can be
done with as they wish."
"You were right though," I said, "I do
have to trust others
sometimes to help accomplish the same goal and try to be a
little more patient."
Mom gave a sigh and said, "Sometimes, all we can do
is
wait. Wait for others to do what they can or wait to see if
there's anything we CAN do. Waiting is hard."
"I'm gonna go to the gym for a while, wanna come
Pri?" I asked.
"Yeah," she replied, "As long as I can go
swimming."
"Sure," I said, "After I do some weights,
I'll join you in the pool."
As I stood to go get my things I told Mom, "Again,
I'm
sorry Mom for acting like a snot. Maybe Leeya's rubbing off on me."
"Apology accepted," Mom replied, "But now
you sound like an
old married fart blaming your shortcomings on your wife.
Shame on you!"
I jutted out my chin and asked, "Want another
go?"
Putting her hand over my face, she pushed me back and
said,
"Get outta here, silly boy."
Priya and I went upstairs, got our gear together and
left
for the country club. Upon arrived at the club, Priya went
to the pool dressing area while I went to the free weights.
I worked out for about an hour and felt wasted. Boy was
I
out of shape! I wasn't sure if I could swim, my legs hurt
so much from doing squats but I'd promised Priya and headed
to the pool. I changed into my suit, stepped under the
shower to rinse off the sweat and stepped out into the pool area.
Priya was playing and splashing around with some older
teenaged girls about sixteen or seventeen. I dove in on the
deep end and swam up behind her underwater, and as I came
up behind her pinched her ass.
As I was coming out of the water, Priya jumped as well
as
the three older girls when I made my abrupt, splashing exit
from the water behind Priya. I grabbed her around the waist
and lifted her up and about half way out of the water as
she "Eeek'ed" out in surprise. I said to her, "Miss
me?"
Priya turned and slapped my bare chest (Ouch, that
hurt!).
"Why you!" She exclaimed, as she turned
around.
The three older girls waded over to us and the tallest
of
the three asked, "Who's this?"
Sticking up her left hand and flashing her rings, Priya
answered, "This rude man is Sean, my husband."
"Your husband?" The taller girl gasped,
"My gosh, how old
are you, I thought you were about thirteen!"
Priya giggled and replied, "Not yet, I turned
twelve in
January. I'm twelve and a half."
"My God!" Exclaimed the shorter one, "My
father would beat
me black and blue if I wanted to get married at twelve,
disown me and throw me outta the house!"
The middle girl batted her eyelashes and coyly grinning
asked me, "How old are you, Sean?"
"Twenty," I replied, "But I'm young at
heart."
Wanting more tidbits, the girls crowded around us
giggling.
The flirty one asked Priya, "How long have you been
married, are you newlyweds?"
"Almost," Priya smiled and said, "We've
been married almost
a year, our anniversary is day after tomorrow, right Darling?"
(Gulp! I forgot all about our first anniversary!)
"Uh yeah," I stumbled, "That's right, it
is."
"Are you pregnant?" The middle one asked,
Giggling Priya shook her head no and replied, "Oh
heavens no!"
The flirty one was standing a little too close so I
figured
that the girls now had enough fodder for gossip so I kissed
Priya's neck and said, "You girls have a nice chat, I'm
gonna swim a few laps." And swam away.
I took a couple of warm up laps doing the breaststroke
and
watched the interaction between the girls. Now, Priya was
standing in the middle of the three as they chatted like
busy bees. Returning my focus to my laps, I ignored the
girls and swam.
When I'd finished, I swam over to them and the flirty
one
giggling said to me, "I understand you're Muslim, I'm
seventeen, wanna another wife?"
Priya looked at her as the other two gasped and I
replied,
"No, I'm still trying to figure this one out. She's smarter
than me and she always keeps me on my toes."
"And on your back," Flirty quipped.
Priya was learning the rule of the last word and
nonchalantly answered, "No, I like him on top better."
This brought a bevy of mouth-covered giggles and blushes
and the taller one dreamily said, "I'd like to marry a
blonde-haired guy too, like you Priya, you're so lucky."
"Yeah," Priya said, "He swept me off my
feet and married me
two months later."
"My Gosh! What did your parents say?" The
middle one asked.
"Both of our parents were a little reluctant at
first, but
finally agreed and now we're all very happy about it."
The middle one looked down, blushed and asked, "I
don't
mean to pry, but what was your wedding night like? I mean,
I've thought about what mine might be like and I was just curious."
Looking up at me and smiling, Priya answered honestly,
"Sean was very loving, gentle and made it a night I'll never
forget."
Looking dreamily up all three girls swooned.
"Weren't you scared to death?" The tallest one
asked.
"No," Priya answered, "Kinda shy, but I
wasn't scared."
The middle girl covered her breasts with her arm and
replied, "Gosh, just the thought of taking my clothes off
in front of a man scares me!"
"Well," Priya commented, "When you say,
"I do," that kinda
means you will, huh?'
Flirty put in as she coyly looked at me, "Is he
good?"
Priya shot back, "Better than you'll ever
know."
With that I said to Priya that it was time we got home
to
see if there was any news from her parents. The girls said
goodbye and waded off, looking back occasionally at us.
I noticed Priya now had some cleavage showing in her suit
and I commented, "That suit's getting a little small isn't it?"
Smiling, she proudly thrust out her chest and replied,
"Yeah, it's great isn't it? My boobies are growing."
"I wish you'd stay the same. I love your body the
way it
is." I replied honestly.
"Jeez!" She replied, "I'm already gonna
be a bald pussied
little girl for life, what more do you want"
Rubbing my arm, she quickly followed up with,
"Don't worry,
I won't grow much and like I said, my nipples will stay the
same just like Momma's and Me Ma's."
"Hmmm," I said jokingly, "Maybe I should
marry Me Ma."
"She's very hairy down there,' Priya remarked,
"But knowing
her, she'd get rid of it all just to fuck your brains out!"
A little shocked I asked, "Come on Priya, I was
just
joking! Seriously though, if I DID ask her to marry me,
she'd say yes?"
"Seriously?" She asked.
Curious as to her reply I nodded.
"Seriously," Priya began, "I think maybe
she might. Before
she met you, she was like she is now, you know, happy,
joking and likes to tease but since she met you she always
looks at you with a sparkle in her eye."
Priya paused a moment and added, "I don't know,
maybe it's
just me but I think she wonders "What if I were younger"
when she looks at you. You know, you're her favorite. She
likes you more than any of my uncles, even my Dad, and she
really loves him."
Surprised, I replied, "Gosh, I didn't think she
might be
serious in any way."
"She's asked you several times openly hasn't
she?" Priya observed.
"Yeah," I said, "But I just thought it
was harmless family fun."
"Many truthful things are sometimes said
jokingly," she commented.
"What's her real name," I asked her.
"Wajd. Wajd Azeez," Priya answered.
"What's it mean?" I asked again.
Giggling and covering her mouth she replied, "Wajd
means passion."
"Oh!" I replied with opened eyes.
Having enough of THIS conversation, I said, "Come
on, let's
get going and get home."
After a quick shower we dressed and were home by five.
Monaavi was again giving music lessons and Mom was in the
kitchen talking with Pita.
I asked Mom if she'd heard anything from Salima or Adib
and
she replied, "Yeah, let's go out to the veranda to talk in peace."
I poured three glasses of iced tea, handed them to the
women and we went out and sat at the veranda table. Mom
took a sip of tea and said, "Salima called about an hour
ago. Alpa called her and said that she and Amaad wanted to
talk to both of your parents Priya, so they went to Amaad
and Alpa's place."
"It seems," Mom continued, "That Amaad
has been playing the
stock market and has lost quite a large sum of money. On
top of that, he's purchased a large amount on margin and
he's expecting his broker to issue a margin call next week."
"I knew something was wrong," Priya noted,
"Because Aunt
Alpa told me at the hospital that their phone was
disconnected for non payment."
"So he's financially strapped," I said,
"When we were at
the hospital, he acted like he neither needed nor wanted
our help. He even made the comment that he owes no man
anything. What does any of this have to do with Faatina?"
With a shrug Mom replied, "I don't know. Salima
said that
Amaad and Alpa would soon be put out on the street also.
Seems he's been using every penny he gets speculating on
the stock market. Salima said she asked Alpa how she was
going to take care of the baby and she said that she didn't
know but a solution had to be reached by Saturday because
Faatina was slated to be released on Sunday."
Not answering my question, I asked Mom, "And? Did
she say
what solution she and Adib came to with them regarding the baby?"
Sipping her tea, Mom nodded and replied, "No, Amaad
wouldn't agree to anything, one way or the other. Adib
reminded him of our financial status and said that we'd
already agreed to pay for whatever Faatina needs, but Amaad
was still evasive and noncommittal. Amaad told Adib that he
and Alpa would meet with us at Adib's on Saturday at three
pm for a family meeting regarding Faatina, and that's where
things stand at the moment."
Trying to analyze Amaad's motives I asked, "I
wonder what's
on his mind. First he plays the "I'm in control so fuck
you" attitude and now he wants to meet with us. I wonder, I
just wonder if he's gonna propose selling his child to us?"
"I asked Salima that," Mom answered, "But
she said that
although that might be a possibility, she doubts it. Amaad
is pretty much a fundamentalist in his beliefs and Salima
said she doesn't think he'd outright do that. She told me
she had the feeling that Alpa might have an idea what he
planned to do but she wasn't sure."
"Did Salima give you any information regarding her
sister?"
I asked, "I mean, what's she like or what kind of person
she is? Obviously, she's afraid of her husband."
Mom replied, "Salima said that Alpa was the most
religious
of the three sisters and decided to marry a fundamentalist
Muslim because of that, but Amaad is much more extreme and
harsh than her devout father ever was. Salima said that her
father loved and cherished all his children from both wives
and was very empathetic and understanding about the same
discrimination Salima, and later Priya, endured because of
their skin color. Salima said that she feels Alpa feels
trapped and regrets marrying Amaad but knows what could
happen if she tried to leave him."
"Aunt Alpa," Priya added, "Is a really
nice person. She's
quiet, gentle and very, very modest. She's always been kind
to us kids. Uncle Amaad was always very strict with Faatina
and wouldn't let her do much with the rest of us. Whenever
Aunt Alpa would bring her to our house without him, Faatina
would be over active and rambunctious. She and Leeya would
have a ball climbing all over the furniture and things."
Leaning forward on the table, Mom said, "What
really
shocked me was when Alpa told Salima that Amaad wanted her
to get pregnant again. Salima said she about fainted when
she heard that."
"What's he up to?" I thought out loud,
"He's got a child
that needs both of their undivided attention and now he
wants another child when he can't support the wife and the
child he's got?"
Priya whispered, "He's gonna let her die. He's
gonna let
her die because she's afflicted and brain damaged. He wants
to try and have a son."
Mom wretched and said, "God no! I think I'm gonna
be sick."
"How?" I asked, "He's got no money!"
"He'll live," Priya said, "A destitute
life like most of
the population, with him and his wife, and hope he gets his
son. Even the poorest of the poor in India have children
and it is those children who suffer the most."
Shaking my head I said to Mom, "I guess this is one
of
those times when all we can do now is wait: wait until
three on Saturday."
Nodding Mom agreed saying, "Unfortunately, it looks
that way Son."
Having said all we could say for the time being, we went
inside to eat dinner. Monaavi decided to eat with us this
evening and I studied her as we ate. She was as giggly and
playful at dinner as her tiny charges, teasing and playing
little eye games back and forth. As child-like and innocent
as she was, I noticed for the first time her light brown
eyes were large, expressive and mysteriously sensual. They
had an almost smoldering appearance.
After dinner, Priya and Leeya accompanied Monaavi, Pita
and
Attiya as our driver took them home. Mom and I took the
time to explain to Dad everything that we talked about
concerning little Faatina and Dad made the comment, "I
trust you Joan and Sean to work things out. Just don't put
yourselves in a position where you're paying for this man's
habit as blackmail in return for the child. If you do that,
you'll never stop paying. "Buying" her freedom so to speak
like you did with Haseeba is one thing, blackmail is another."
Yeah Dad," I replied, "But what's the price of
a child?"
"I don't know Son," He responded, "I
guess whatever it takes."
"Who is going to be there?" Dad asked
Looking at each other unsure, Mom said, "I thought
that
you, Sean, Priya and I would represent our family, but let
Sean to the talking, is that OK with you?"
"Yeah I'll go," Dad replied, "I don't
know what good I'll
be. This is basically Sean's family by marriage and both of
us are basically close observers."
I noted, "Well if there's gonna be a check written,
both of
you need to know that and approve."
Dad replied, "Thanks for the inclusion Son but we
both know
you could marry every single female in that family, give
them each ten million and STILL be filthy rich. You don't
need MY approval to spend your money: and it WILL BE your
money you're spending, for the record."
Mom quipped, "Yeah, well thankfully he's only got
two empty
slots left on his dance card."
Dad smiled at Mom and quipped back, "Why don't you
marry Me
Ma, Sean, and shorten the list. Maybe my hair will stop
falling out. At least she's legal."
I thought to myself as we chuckled, "Why all this
talk
suddenly of Me Ma? At almost sixty, she could be MY grand
mom." Then I remembered, "Hell, I could be Leeya's father
too."
After evening prayers and lying in bed, Priya and I
waited
until Leeya was asleep to talk about Faatina. We tried to
brainstorm all the possibilities as to what Amaad had on
his mind. If we "bought" her, we'd need to hire a nurse to
care for her and put an addition onto the house for living
quarters; or buy a bigger house. Mom could probably take
care of her when Priya returned to school, in the event we
hadn't hired someone, but Priya wasn't sure if at twelve,
she could be a mother just yet.
We discussed supporting Amaad and Alpa, letting Alpa
raise
and care for her own child but that would be like
blackmail. It might never end, depending on whether or not
Faatina ever relearned enough skills to be somewhat
independent. Keeping Faatina with her mother, whatever the
cost (we felt) was the best solution. Needles to say, it
was a fretful night.
The next day being Friday, Monaavi was off for prayers.
The
two younger girls spent a good portion of the day
practicing their music lessons. I went to the office, but
because of my mental distraction, I was basically just
putting in time. We had a quiet dinner, said prayers and
had another fretful night of sleep.
Saturday morning, Priya called her mom and they talked
for
a good while. I was on pins and needles waiting for the
time to leave. Priya said that Sarah and Haseeba would be
out and that only her parents and our family along with
Amaad and Alpa would be there.
We had an unusually quiet lunch and Leeya and Attiya
both
knew something was amiss but didn't inquire what was wrong.
I asked Pita if she could watch the girls and she replied
that in all probability the piano would do most of the babysitting.
Two fifteen rolled around and we readied ourselves and
left
for Adib's. We arrived about two forty-five and after
exchanging salaams, we noticed that Amaad and Alpa were
already there, sitting at the dining room table.
After rustling up a few folding chairs, we sat down to
business. I politely extended my hand and gave my salaams
to both Alpa and Amaad, as did Priya. My parents smiled and
nodded their greeting.
After a minute of silence, wondering who would begin,
Adib
said as Salima translated, "My brother-in-law Amaad has
asked us here today to discuss a family issue."
I wasn't gonna beat around the bush with him and asked,
"What family issue is that?"
Amaad knew I wasn't going to be a push over and looked
at
me sternly with a little arrogance. Thinking a moment, he
sighed and said, I have to admit that some of my business
investments are doing poorly and I am in danger of losing
my business and my home."
"No problem Uncle," I replied, "How much
do you need to get
back on your feet?"
Calling his bluff, I pulled my checkbook and pen out. He
stared at my hand waiting to write the check, swallowed and
replied, "I appreciate your kind offer but I have to
respectfully decline. I have gone through life owing no man
and I wish to keep it that way."
Setting my pen down I asked, "Then what do you
propose to
do? Your daughter will come home from the hospital
tomorrow, you've probably incurred thousands of dollars
worth of medical bills and then there's the daily matter of
providing for your family. How do you propose to do that?"
Playing cat and mouse, he asked, "I was hoping you
might
have a suggestion."
"I Do," I replied holding up the checkbook,
"I'll write you
a check for the total of what you owe for your speculation
in the market, I'll cover Faatina's medical bills and
whatever else she may need and I'll even give you a job if
that's what it takes. Just give me a number, pick your
daughter up tomorrow, take her home and let your wife raise
your child."
With a stoic stare he looked at me a moment and said,
"Then
I'd owe you more than I'd make in a lifetime."
Shaking my head I replied, "No you wouldn't. It'd
be just
like me inviting a family member over for dinner and paying
for the food. This time, the meal is simply bigger. It's
family helping family. No strings attached: you wouldn't
owe me a rupee."
Silently he shook his head no.
"Then what do you suggest?" I asked him,
"Do you want me to
adopt your daughter, and as her guardian I'd pay for her
bills and care?"
"How could I let you adopt my child?" He
asked, "She's not
an orphan. She's got a mother and father and a family name."
Tired of his games I stretched out my hands and said,
"Look, we're all married adults here, tell me exactly what
you want. Let's not play word games and profess false piety here."
"Lets put all the cards on the table," I said
as I smacked
the table, "What you REALLY want is a son. You have a
daughter that you wished was a son. Now, because that
daughter is disabled and needs your love and care, you want
to rid yourself of her somehow. We both know what's best
for Faatina is for her mother to raise and care for her. If
that's not in your "PLAN," then tell me why I'm here."
"There is a way," He said cunningly.
"Then out with it man!" I replied, "What
do I have to do to
save Faatina's life and help her become a normal kid
again?"
"Marry her." He said pointedly and directly.
"WHAT?" I exclaimed.
Everyone in the room slumped, gasped and was completely
shocked and repulsed by his statement. Alpa put her face in
her hands and began sobbing uncontrollably.
Looking at him dumbfounded I answered, "You want me
to
marry your three year-old daughter who's now in diapers and
being feed with a bottle? Are you insane?"
Amaad folded his arms on his chest and replied,
"Insane?
No. Just think: if you marry her, you offer a dower to
include a certain amount of money as a "Gift" to her
parents that will clear our debts. As her husband, you take
responsibility for her hospital debts and care and she
gains a loving family. We all benefit. Faatina gets a
husband, and in her condition, no man would ever marry her.
We save face and complete our obligation to our daughter by
finding her a husband and you get another child bride."
"What the hell is wrong with this misogynistic
society?" I
exclaimed, "You hate your daughter so much you'd do this to
her: sell her to get rid of a mouth to feed? If not, you'd
starve her to death?"
Amaad replied, "I'd feed her what I can
provide."
Adib cut in and asked, "What does this word mean
Sean?"
Not feeling like giving a vocabulary lesson, I shot
back,
"Misogynist: it's a noun that means a person who has an
extreme dislike or hatred towards girls or women."
Turning back to Amaad I continued with, "Yeah, and
starve
her to death using the excuse that you're destitute and
can't afford to properly feed her. What's wrong with the
family she's got? If she were my daughter, I'd scrub
toilets to give her what she needs! As for Faatina never
being able to marry, you're willing to let this child
slowly die without ever giving her the chance to even TRY
and become normal again. As for another child bride, how
can I marry a BABY that can't even feed herself or control
her personal habits and say I'm doing the right thing? This
is absolutely insane!"
"Besides," I added, "The dower is a gift
for the bride
alone, none of it is supposed to pay the parents for her
hand. That's the law. What you want is for me to buy your
infant daughter for marriage."
All the women in the room were sobbing and Dad, Adib and
I
had locked our jaws to keep from pouncing on him and
killing him with our bare hands.
Unwavering, Amaad said, "This is my proposal. You
take her
hand and pick her up tomorrow and we'll set a date for the
ceremony or I take her home and let life take its course."
I stood up shaking my fisted hand at him and rebutted,
"What? Now you're threatening me and telling me either I
marry her or she dies?"
"I didn't say that," he replied smugly,
"You did."
Trying to reason with him I said waving my checkbook,
"Look
man! I'm willing to support you, Alpa and Faatina for life.
I'll buy you a house and give you a job. It doesn't have to
come to this! This wouldn't be a loan, you wouldn't owe me
anything: ever"
"I don't want your hand-out," He replied.
"What do you call the gift in the dower: a wedding
present-
to the father?" I shouted.
"Call it what you wish," He responded.
Adib implored him, "Brother, don't do this sin.
She's a
baby, let her mother wean her again and raise the fruit of her womb."
Amaad looked at Adib and replied, "Sometimes the
fruit is rotten, brother."
I looked at Dad and I'd never seen him so conflicted. He
had tears of sadness while at the same time his face was
red with rage and hatred. Mom and Salima got up and ran to
the bathroom to vomit they were so repulsed. Priya had her
face buried on the table in her arms sobbing and moaning
while Alpa had slid to the floor in utter grief.
That fat fucker just sat there: arms folded, cold,
callous
and unyielding with that smug look on his face. I wanted to
rip his fucking heart out! I threw my checkbook on the
table, turned and walked to the front porch.
I banged my head against the doorframe and cried. I kept
asking myself, "What can I do God to get through to him?'
I must have been out there for about five minutes when
my
family came out to retrieve me. We hugged each other and
cried. I turned to my parents as I hugged Priya and looked
over her head and asked, "What can we do Dad? Mom? This
isn't right. That poor child can't even speak. It'd be like
marrying a newborn right out of the womb, what do we do?"
Priya looked up at me and said, "Marry her. She may
grow up
and never know she's married. We'll just raise her, love
her and help her become whatever she can be. We'll take
care of her. She deserves a life Sean, and that bastard
will let her die, just like I said. The thought of being a
mother right now scares me to death but I'll be the best
mother I can be to prevent letting her die. When she's
older, if she recovers and can make decisions for herself
and she wants to be with you then let it be her decision."
"Mom? I asked, "What do YOU think I should
do?"
With head down and hand on her brow crying Mom uttered,
"I
don't know Sean, I just don't know. There's nothing in my
life I can draw on for a solution. Priya's right in that we
can't just stand by and let the child die. Try to reason
with him again: see if that'll work."
Dad agreed with Mom and said, "Mom's right, think
Son.
There's gotta be another answer."
Agreeing to try, we went back inside. I suddenly thought
of
Mohammad. He'd taken Aisha's hand when she was five or six
but didn't actually marry her until she was nine. We again
took our seats and I began the negotiations for Faatina's life anew.
I took a breath and said to that pious fratricidal
maniac,
"Here's what I propose. I will take Faatina's hand in
marriage as a promise, but we'll not have a ceremony. This
will assure that she WILL have a husband. As her espoused,
I will assume all costs regarding her care and support.
Faatina will remain in the care of her mother until she's
nine or if she reaches menses before that. At which point
we'll conclude our marriage agreement with the ceremony. I
site Mohammad's espousal to Aisha at five or six. While
sick, Aisha remained in the care of her mother until her
illness had passed and Mohammad married her at the age of
nine. Will this be agreeable to you?"
Amaad sat silent for a few moments, rubbed his chin and
said, "What you propose is interesting but there are a few
points you overlook. Mohammad did not support Aisha when
she was ill, her father did; and unlike Aisha, what makes
you think that Faatina's illness will pass? As for Faatina,
I ask you what of her shelter? Would you not provide a
place for her to live? If you did, that would mean that I
would be indebted to you for the roof over my head. The
food in her mouth, wouldn't I also partake of the meal? I
would then be indebted to you for the food in my belly.
What say you to this?"
Everyone in the room was silent with disbelief. I had
offered this man a solution that saved his "face" and at
the same time provided for his child. Everyone there knew
then that he had fully intended to rid himself of his child
all along, one way or another: even if it meant murdering
her by slowly starving her to death. I looked at Mom and
Dad and they just hung their heads in futility. I looked at
Priya and she grabbed my hand and squeezed it saying, "Let
her live Sean."
I looked at my in-laws and they looked expectantly for
my
response. I looked at Alpa sitting on the floor looking up
with an imploring look on her face that seemed to beg me to
take her child.
I turned to him and said simply, "I'll marry her
but I want
an admission from you. You admit to everyone here that
you'd rather kill your daughter than care for her yourself."
He looked at me with hatred and said, "I'll make no
such
statement. Either you'll marry her or you won't, it makes
no difference to me one way or another."
With a heavy sigh, I replied, "So be it. I'll take
Faatina's hand. I will have my driver pick you up tomorrow
morning and bring you and your wife here to Adib's by nine
am. I will have a letter transferring guardianship to me,
which you and Alpa will sign, giving me custody of Faatina.
As you know, in India I cannot marry a three year-old, so I
will legally became her guardian, not her spouse. You and
your wife will accompany me to the hospital to pick up
Faatina. We'll then set a ceremony date after all the
arrangements can be made. Tomorrow, I'll expect the amount
of your "gift" at which time I'll give you a check. Is this
agreeable with you?"
He silently nodded.
It was done. I would now have an infant-like three
year-old
as my wife and I hoped Allah would give me the strength to
raise her as my child and grow to be a happy, somewhat
normal woman.
With nothing more to be said, I offered my salaams and
went
to the car and wept. Mom, Dad and Priya followed a few
minutes later and we left for home. Dad called his lawyer
and told him what we needed and that he needed it tonight.
Mom said, "Once you get that guardianship signed,
you're
not obligated to marry her, you know that don't you?"
"My sentiments exactly," I replied.
Priya said, "But you gave your word, are you as
cunning and
deceitful as he?"
"Priya," I replied pleadingly, "It's just
ridiculous to
marry her at her age and mental capacity."
"Keep your honor husband," Priya advised,
"The difference
between you and men like Mahmoud and Amaad is that you are
a man of honor and truth. Are you now corrupted by them?"
"If this is what you really want Priya," I
answered, "But
she'll be like a daughter to me."
Mom, Priya and I embraced and cried together for several
minutes and I said to Priya, "Well, it looks like we're
going to be the parents of a three year-old baby. How's it
feel to be a mother?"
"I've got mixed feelings," she replied,
"Happy that we've
given Faatina a new life, but sad that it had to come to
this. I only hope I can be a good mother and sister to her."
Continued in Chapter 66…
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