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Child Brides of India Ch 5
By C. Stanton Leman
Chapter 5: Introductions and Dinner (Mg, rom, no sex)
Under Mom's calm but firm direction, everything for
dinner was fished by five pm. The extra maid, chef and
waiter were assigned the job of completing the meal
preparations as we all went our separate ways to begin
to get ready. After completing my bathroom ritual, I
said my evening prayers, and again, fervently asked
for guidance and help to see Allah's will in all of
this. After finishing my prayers, I began to get
dressed. I chose a navy blue pin striped suit with a
pale blue shirt and matching tie, then headed
downstairs to give any last minute help Mom might
need.
I found Mom in the kitchen, giving last minute
instructions to the staff. I stood in the doorway of
the kitchen, and simply gazed upon my mother. She had
decided to dress the culture. She had on a turquoise
colored hand painted sari with gold trim. Underneath,
she wore a dark blue petticoat and long choli. Her
hair was put up, using the remainder of the pallu as a
headscarf. For the first time as a man, I looked at
her as a woman. She seemed oblivious to my presence,
busy with details, but I looked at her with deep,
loving emotion. She stands about 5' 9", with medium
blonde hair like mine. She has light blue eyes and an
easy, friendly smile. As I looked at her, I noticed
that at 42, except for the usual fullness that comes
with age, she had a very nice figure and ample
breasts. When I looked at her face, I saw that her age
had given her a noble, patrician beauty that one would
admire in a mature woman. I was broken from my trance
when she finally noticed me, stopped and smiled.
Walking over and straightening my tie, she said,
"Dad
will be down in a minute, he had to wait on me to
finish primping. Well, how do I look?"
"Lovely, simply lovely. I love you Mom," I
said.
"Well, lover boy, you ready for your date?"
"Mom," I said, "Why is this all so
funny?"
"I think it's kinda cute that a 16 year old girl
will
have her first 'date' with my manly son who appears
just a tad bit nervous himself! Besides, why be so
serious? You've already decided she's not your cup of
tea, so relax and enjoy the conversation, company and
this nice dinner your mother slaved over, huh?'
"You're right Mom, you're always right."
"Yeah? Well tell your father that! We'd better head
to
the living room, it's almost time."
With that, we walked arm in arm towards the living
room, as Mom yelled upstairs, "John, its almost time."
"Just a minute honey, I'll be right down," was
his
distant reply.
With all three of us standing in the living room, my
dad looked out the window, and said, "They're here,
lets move to the foyer."
The foyer is rather small for receiving more than two,
maybe three people at most, so we all stood in kind of
a curved line on the left hand side in the hall, where
the foyer empties into the hallway. We stood with my
mother closest to the wall, me in the middle and my
father to my right. The doorbell rang, and I took a
deep breath. My mother squeezed my hand as Dad moved
to the door.
My father answered the door, greeting Adib with a
handshake, motioning him inside. Adib entered and
stepped towards me with outstretched hand. Because of
the restricting width of the foyer and his size, I
could only get a glimpse of the rest of his family,
but all the women appeared to have their heads
covered.
I took his hand, shaking it and said, "Assalamu
aliakom."
He replied, "Wa aliakum asslalm."
I thought he was going to stand and introduce his
family, but my father, either out of nervousness, or
simply having a brain fart, wrapped his arm around
Adib's shoulder and led him to the veranda, speaking
lightheartedly to him as they moved.
Then I saw Salima for the first time. It appeared that
Sarah was behind her, followed by the younger
daughter.
Salima was, to my surprise, a very beautiful woman for
having had two children, which might put her, I guess
to be about 38. She is very short, standing only about
five feet tall, and petite with a slender build, dark
olive complexion, with friendly brown eyes, and medium
length black hair. She had high, somewhat smallish
breasts proportional for her frame.
With my hands folded in front of me, I bowed slightly
and greeted her by saying, "Assalamu aliakom. I'm
Sean, and this is my mother Joan. You must be Salima,
I'm very pleased to meet you."
My mother smiled and said, "Hi, I'm Joan, it's a
pleasure to finally meet you and your daughters,
Salima"
Salima replied, "Wa aliakum asslalm. I too have
been
looking forward to meeting both of you. Please, let me
introduce my daughters." With that, she gently
motioned for Sarah to step forward. "This is my eldest
daughter Sarah. Sean, Sarah. Sarah, Mrs. Michaels."
With my hands folded in front of me, I slightly bowed,
and greeted her by saying, "Assalamu aliakom. It's a
pleasure to meet you." My mom then took her hand and
greeted her.
Sarah, to my surprise, was prettier than the picture
her father had painted of her. Her height, weight and
complexion seemed accurate, at 5' 6'' and about 120-
130 pounds, but she didn't look 'full' to me. She had
an average frame for an athletic girl, showed no signs
of fat, and had a nice figure with ample sized
breasts. Although she had respectfully bowed her head
slightly, she had a cute face. She looked up at me
briefly, smiled a pretty smile, which she shyly
covered with her hand and blushingly said to me, "Wa
aliakum asslalm. It's a pleasure to meet you and for
you to invite us into your home."
My mother said, "Sarah, it's our pleasure to have
you
here, and your comment was very sweet." My mother
stepped towards her, taking her arm, led her a little
ways into the hall to make room for the last of the
introductions.
Motioning her forward, Salima said, "and this is
our
youngest daughter, Priya."
Again, with my hands folded, I slightly bowed, and
greeted her by saying, "Assalamu
Everything within me instantly exploded! It felt like
a white-hot spear had pierced both of us at the same
time, right to our cores. I gasped "Oh!" I know she
did also because I could hear it above my own, Salima
also had to have heard it. Seen it. Did mom? Or Sarah?
As she slowly came into view and as I bowed to greet
her, our eyes met: and I cannot describe what is
beyond words to explain, but I was looking directly
into the most innocently beautiful, dark, and
sensuously captivating large black eyes.
The windows to her soul, like pools of molten
obsidian: so deep, dark and mysterious… slowly pulling
me into the soul I instantly knew I would someday be
mated to. I so desperately wanted to slip inside and
wrap myself in their warmth forever.
Although our glance lasted but only for a few, brief
seconds, time seemed to stand still. When this
seemingly endless gaze ended, she slowly began to
smile. As her lips parted and widened, her smile
seemed to light up her face. "Oh, to have that smile
in my life every day," I thought. Her color darkened
ever so slightly as she raised her hand to cover her
mouth. I noticed her tiny hand, her slender fingers
and nails, and the pink of her palm…
My 6' frame towered over her like Gulliver and the
Lilliputians. She was a young - very young pixie of a
girl at about 4'9 or 10, about 80 to 90 pounds with a
pubescent figure. She had a very slender- not skinny-
build with the slightest outline of a curve to her
hips, but from the front, I didn't notice any swelling
of a breast. Her shiny blue-black hair was pulled back
over her tiny ears. She had skin the color of light
milk chocolate that was absolutely and perfectly
flawless.
This entire sequence occurred in a matter of seconds.
She then gracefully covered my incomplete greeting by
saying, "Wa aliakum asslalm. I am very pleased to meet
you, and you also Mrs. Michaels."
As she passed by me to step into the hallway, I could
see her light blue covered torso through the fine,
white pallu, and then got a glimpse of a hint of her
right breast, which appeared to be about the size of a
small apricot, and through the scarf, her long, waist
length black hair was set in a French braid.
I was momentarily stunned, embarrassed, confused… I
was lost in another world! I regained my composure as
quickly and as best I could, and looked at Salima. I
was expecting to see anger, rage, disgust, but
instead, she gave me a Mona Lisa-like smile.
Mom broke the gaze by saying, "Please, let's join
the
others on the veranda for refreshments and tea."
For the first time in my life, I felt as if I was
ready to emotionally break down: I had never
experienced such a strong feeling of a lack of
control. I quickly composed myself to continue what
was, apparently, going to be an arduous night. Me?
What about Sarah? Oh God above, what's come over me"
Needing an additional moment to recover completely, as
graciously and innocently as I could, I said, "Let me
check on the refreshments." As I turned to go to the
kitchen, I saw Salima pull up Priya, who was by mom's
side, to speak to her. I didn't see Sarah, so I
assumed she continued on to join our fathers. I
stepped through the kitchen door and leaned against
the wall with my head down.
I shook my head, and mockingly said to myself,
"Hummf!
The ever-in control super whiz kid! God truly is the
great equalizer!"
Just then, my mother walked through the door. She
smiled and laying her hand on my cheek said, "Loose
something out there, super kid? Maybe your heart?" She
paused for a moment and finished. "Perhaps I should
ask Priya if she's seen it," then gave an attempted
tension-breaking chuckle.
I turned to look her, and with an unpleasant gaze,
looked her in the eye, saying nothing.
She then said, "Look, you asked and prayed for
Allah,
peace be upon Him, to show you His will. Well, He did.
Now, what are you going to do about it?"
I said, "What, are you turning Muslim?"
She said, "No, I'm showing respect for your faith,
and
I expect you to follow it! Listen to me. Allah,
Christ, Jehovah, Shiva, Buddha or whoever the hell is
on duty tonight, has knocked you on your ass and given
your heart to an eleven year-old girl, and hers to
you. Yes, she's eleven-and-a half years old! Now… pick
yourself up by the bootstraps and play the hand that's
been dealt you. If this is truly meant to be, we'll
work out the details later. Everyone is beginning to
wonder where we are, so follow your heart, trust in
your faith, and let's get going!" With that, we both
picked up a tray of drinks and headed out the door to
the veranda.
Upon entering the veranda, we found everyone was
standing together in light conversation. Mom and I
finished serving drinks all around, then we began to
split up into groups: my dad and Adib, then mom,
Salima and Priya, which finally left Sarah and I to
begin our one-on-one conversation.
Feeling the age-old insecurities around women
resurface, there were shy glances and smiles (covered
by a hand on her part) for a few moments, then I began
with, "So, it seems that this Muslim courtship thing
can be a little awkward, don't you think? It kinda
feels like we're in a fishbowl with all eyes on us:
even if, when you look around, it isn't really true,
doesn't it?"
She looked around, giggled and said, "Yes, I was
thinking the same thing. Excuse me if my English isn't
very good, I'm a little nervous, but this is the first
time I've been allowed to actually speak alone with a
boy — I mean a man, outside of a group setting."
"Don't feel too self conscious about it, it's hard
for
men and women to first meet, even when people around
them seem not to notice them."
She then said, "Thanks for understanding, I don't feel
so scared, now that we've begun to talk. Maybe my
English will be better. How do you like India?
I told her I very much liked what I've seen, which
hadn't been much, but I really did enjoy praying at
the Jama Masjiid mosque, and meeting with the Imam had
been very enlightening. Even some of the Hindu shrines
were very beautiful. As for the culture, I've learned
very little: only what I've obtained by observation.
She went on to explain a little about life in India,
and the surprising fact her that her family not only
spoke English, but also Tamil, Hindu and some Urdu.
She also talked about a few of the customs, and
general topics which she seemed more comfortable
talking about, but then she said to me, "I know you
and Papa have met, and he's already told you quite a
bit about me, but I don't really know much about you."
I replied, "Well, to put you mind at ease, actually
seeing and meeting you is much better than the girl
(did I just say girl? I should have said woman) I had
pictured in my mind: honestly. He didn't tell me that
all of you spoke 4 languages!"
Smiling, she said, "You're very kind, but India is
a
country of many languages."
I continued to tell her my age, a little about my
interests, hobbies, my educational level, and why I
came to India. I didn't think it right to try and
describe my personality traits, since I wanted her to
make those judgments on her own. We had been talking
for about ten minutes, and I kept trying to discreetly
gaze at Priya as often as I felt comfortable with
doing so, when Mom announced that dinner was being
served in the dinning room.
We all proceeded into the house and on into the dining
room, where mom announced the seating arrangements.
Because of the unequal numbers in each family unit,
mom sat dad at one end of the table, with Adib at the
other. The side seating arrangements were a 3-2
setting with Salima sitting to Adib's right, then
Sarah, then Priya on the end, next to my dad. On the
other side, Mom had split the side into thirds, with
her sitting slightly away, but to the right of my
father with me to mom's right. This placed me in a
position as to be able to look almost directly across
at Sarah and her mother with Adib to my right.
Once seated and the first course being served, Mom,
being the gracious hostess, turned diagonally towards
Adib and Salima, and began the dinner conversation
with, "I am so very glad we have the opportunity to
finally meet each other as families. Although business
and friendship are important, families are what are
most important to all of us. I hope everyone enjoys
the meal."
Adib replied, "Mrs. Michaels, you are the
consummate
hostess, and you have done it again with a fine
atmosphere and setting for our families to meet on
such a short notice, my hat is off to you."
Salima added, "Yes, I am impressed that even though
on
short notice, you have been very sensitive to our
Muslim faith and culture. I find it enlightening to
meet westerners that look upon us in such friendship."
Mom said, "Well, Sean had a lot to do with that.
Loving our son as you do your girls, when Sean
converted to Islam, we have honestly tried to
understand his faith, even though some if its customs
and precepts are so different from our Baptist,
Christian faith."
Although Adib knew pretty much as to why I converted
to Islam from our initial meeting in Washington, and
he'd filled Salima in at some point in time, I'm sure,
for the benefit of the girls Salima asked me, "Sean,
why DID you convert to Islam?"
I explained that 9-11 had a lot to do with it. I had
several devout Muslim friends, and how they actually
wept, as did we, over the events, prayed for the
survivors, and for peace for those lost and their
families. I went on to explain how they enlightened me
that real Islam is a faith of peace, and the desire to
live a harmonious life with all of God's people. That
having different beliefs gave no one of any faith a
license or sanction to kill other human beings
indiscriminately.
I went on to explain that their discussions drove me
to start reading the Koran to learn more about the
teachings of Allah, and from there, I decided that
those teachings were a path I'd like to follow, and
so, I converted about two years ago.
I then tried to direct the conversation towards Sarah,
so I asked her, "Sarah, I understand you're several
years advanced at school: have you decided to go to
college, if so, what would you like to major in?"
She looked up, and around the table then replied,
"I
think I'd like to go to medical school, and possibly
become a pediatrician. There are so many children here
in India that don't have basic medical care."
Dad finally spoke up saying, "That's a well thought
out and noble endeavor to undertake. I applaud you for
it. Would you like to go to medical school here or in
the US?"
"I haven't thought too much about it yet."
Mom, I guess, in an attempt to make this a double
'introduction,' first continued my father's praise by
saying, "It hurts all of us the most to see children
suffer," then asked Priya, "And what about you, Priya,
what are your educational plans?"
Priya looked up, wide-eyed and surprised, I guess
because she'd been called upon, recovered and looked
around the table at each of us and said, "I'd like to
enroll at the India Institute of Technology and get my
degree in computer engineering."
Dad exclaimed, "Bravo! A girl after my own heart!
You're thinking quite a bit ahead for still being in
middle school aren't you? What would you like to
specialize in?"
Sarah, I assumed, trying to deflect her insecurity of
being academically much slower than her sister, troed
to cover it with pride for her, offered the revealing
fact by looking at Dad saying, "Oh no, she's actually
in the eleventh grade, one below me."
After a few perked looks at Priya, both attempting to
deflect any embarrassment to Sarah by her sister's
revelation, and based on the response received from
Dad, she didn't miss a beat. She must have
instinctively found what button to push with Dad,
because she quickly interjected, "I'm not sure yet,
what types of services does your company engineer for
its clients?" With that, she coyly indirectly looked
over at me, then at Mom and definitely darkened
slightly (is that how a chocolate girl blushes?), and
then looked again to my father. I felt my face flush a
little also.
Jackpot! Dad then went into a ten-minute diatribe
about the services we engineer for all acumens of
engineering design and research, such as nano
technologies, robotics, medical R & D, and cutting
edge medical procedures.
Priya again glanced at me, gave me another 'chocolate
blush,' and returned to her plate. I looked at Sarah,
who quickly turned her sight to her plate taking a
bite of food, then to Adib, who had a shit-eating grin
on his face, and Salima, still with that same Mona
Lisa smile.
In a way, I felt ashamed. Ashamed at the fact that I
was supposed to be so mature and adept, ashamed
because I felt Sarah was being hurt: both by my
insecurity and what I was now feeling for Priya,
Priya's obvious superiority over Sarah-- and this
evening, over me. It was beginning to become obvious
to everyone who was 'stealing the show,' and what was
being said between the lines with body language and
gestures. I felt uncannily outclassed by my newfound,
11 year-old heartthrob.
I think Sarah sensed this in me, and deflected the
conversation back upon me by asking, "Sean, how do you
feel about taking over your father's company here in
India?"
I did indeed, now feel humble, and replied, "I'm
looking forward to the challenge, hoping to make some
changes for the better, especially for the employees,
and to working closely with your Father. Having been
here only a short while, I have found India to be
interesting, and very revealing."
Salima looked at me, and her smile changed from the
mysterious to one of coy acknowledgement and replied,
"Yes… India can be a sensuously mysterious land."
My mom, not hesitating a moment, put in with "Yes
it
can. Indeed… it surely can."
Adib, momentarily caught off guard by the obvious
double entandre made by his wife then quickly said,
"I am looking forward to it also. In just the short
time you've been here, Sean, you have convinced me
that you are your father's son."
Dad nodded his appreciation to Adib from across the
table and said, "I really appreciate the compliment,
especially from a friend as close as you," and raised
his glass to him.
Salima spoke again in the direction of my mother
saying, "I also am very pleased that our husband's
friendship has now been increased to include both of
our families."
Mom, I guess, not to be outdone in the double entendre
department said, "And I'm sure our friendship will
become even closer over time."
The three males looked at the women, and I think we
were all of one mind in thinking "When did we loose
control?" The women, both young and old are the ones
directing this show!"
There is an observation in business management that
states: "He who speaks last in an exchange, leaves
with the power." My mom showed she was no slouch when
it came to exchanges, and not wanting Salima to rebut,
quickly followed her remark with, "Well, it looks like
we're all about finished with dinner. Dessert anyone?"
The men, desperately looking for a change of scenery,
quickly indicated full stomachs, and we all agreed to
adjourn.
Standing, Mom said, "Since no one is in the mood
for a
heavy dessert, we'll serve tea and cakes in the living
room." With that, we all filed out to the living room.
Once in the living room, everyone was standing, more
or less in a loose crowd exchanging pleasantries about
how good the meal was, how nice an evening it had
turned out to be, then we drifted back into small
groups: again Dad and Adib, Mom, Salima and Priya, and
as if by some conspiracy,, Sarah and I.
Sarah was facing me with her back turned to the other
women, and the women were standing such that Priya had
her back to me, with Mom and Salina facing me. Dad and
Adib had retired to the study.
We were talking about what life was like in America in
comparison to India, when I noticed Priya again. I
tried to be discreet, but I had the repeated urge to
look at her, even if only her back. I was doing quite
well at glancing without Sarah's (apparent) knowledge,
and I saw that Priya had slipped her right foot from
her slipper. She had her foot curled back so that the
top front of her arch and toes were resting on the
carpet. For a quick moment (or so I thought), I stared
at her lovely foot. It was tiny like the rest of her.
Like her palms, the underside was a lovely shade of
pink. She had a little heel, with a slender arch that
was slightly wrinkled due to the curvature of her
foot. Her little toes all in a row against the carpet
like a string of tiny, round, pink pearls…
When I broke my gaze to look at my mom, both she and
Salima smiled at me, Priya, was unaware that she was
even being watched. I thought to myself, "Boy, you've
been a complete ass all night!"
We had been talking for about ten minutes, when Dad
and Adib returned to the living room. Sarah and I were
finishing our topic of discussion, when she said,
"Excuse me Sean, I'd like to speak to my father a
moment."
"Sure." I replied, and watched her take a few
steps
toward her dad. I overheard her ask him, "Papa? May I
speak to Sean in the dining room for a minute? You can
see us from here, OK?"
He looked at me then asked her, "Is everything OK?
"Yes Papa, everything's fine. I'd just like to talk
privately for a moment. I'll explain in a few minutes,
OK?"
"OK Sarah, if everything is fine. Just sit where I
can
see you."
"Yes Papa, I will. Thanks."
She turned and stepped towards me and said "Can we
speak quietly in the dining room for a moment?"
"Sure," I said, and we walked to the corner of
the
table that was visible in Adib's view and sat: my back
to her father and her facing towards him.
She looked slightly embarrassed as she bowed her head,
and then slowly raised it as she began to speak.
"Please, don't say anything until I'm finished, will
you promise me?"
"Yes, I promise. What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong, Sean. In fact, everything is
finally
right. For the first time in my life, I feel certain
that everything is right. I have been very nervous and
anxious about marriage, meeting you, whether I'd
measure up to the expectations of others: Papa, Momma,
Priya, and you and your family. I have fervently
prayed for Allah to quiet my heart and speak to me
about you, me, marriage, everything."
She sighed, took a breath and continued "And He
has."
Then, a single tear dropped onto her cheek, which she
didn't wipe away. I assume that at that point, Adib
had seen her tears and started towards us because
Sarah raised her hand as if to motion him to stop. I
wanted so much to dry away that tear, but knowing it
was forbidden to touch, held back.
She continued… "You and I, and everyone present
tonight know that it's not Allah's will, peace be unto
Him, that we are meant to be."
I said, "I'm so sorry Sarah, the last thing I ever
wanted to do was to hurt you. I feel so terrible about
what you've been through tonight. It really breaks my
heart to see your tears, tears that I've caused---"
She cut me off by saying, "Oh no! You don't
understand. These aren't tears of sadness, they're
tears of joy! For the first time in my life, I've
heard and felt the will of God, and I feel an
incredible peace — a peace I cannot understand. It
wasn't the will of Allah to come here tonight with my
family on my behalf, but for Priya's. It was so that
you and Priya would meet! Don't you see? You and she
are super smart, confident, so sure of who and what
you are. The two of you are a perfect match. From the
moment both of your eyes met, He ordained it!
I feel joy! Joy for Priya. Joy for you, and the joy of
feeling that I have been used by Allah to fulfill His
will! And I Have peace: a peace in knowing that Allah
is watching over me. It's not my time, it's Priya's.
Mine will surely come, and Allah will choose it for
me, just as He's done for Priya and for you.
Don't feel sad or sorry for me, I have been an
instrument of God. I will always remember this night
in my heart, and never doubt God's love for me. OK?
Let's return now, there's one last thing to do to
bring the will of Allah to fruition." With that, she
rose and smiled, and walking side by side, we entered
the living room."
While walking back, I couldn't help but remember my
words to Adib yesterday about Sarah, realizing how
prophetic they were. She had been moved by God and is
demonstrating a newfound maturity, grace and
conviction to act in such a decisive manner, but they
weren't to attract me, they were to bring the events
of the evening out into the open.
Once inside, folks were arranged in the room
differently. Mom sat on the far end of the couch,
Priya in the middle, with Salima on the near end. Dad
was sitting on the arm of the sofa, next to mom, and
Adib likewise next to Salima.
Sarah stepped up to face her father, and began,
"Papa,
I know that you have sought the will of Allah in
searching for a pious and righteous husband for me,
and you did it out of love. You hoped to bring your
daughter here tonight as a potential bride, and you
have: but it wasn't me… it was Priya!
Oh papa! I have heard His almighty voice in my heart
and am filled with joy and peace. Joy for being His
instrument. Joy for Priya, and joy for Momma.
Just look at her Papa, look at Priya. See how she
shines? She's been given a heart, and surrendered her
own, can't you see that?" Looking around at all in the
room then continuing, "Can't you all see that? I am so
happy I could just dance! Everyone present has tried
all evening to avoid what is common knowledge, for my
sake. We have seen the hand of God! Can't all of you
see? We've all been part of a miracle! A miracle of
love: what greater gift can we hope for from our God?"
Adib, with tears in his eyes, lovingly enfolded his
daughter in his arms and wept. Salima held her face in
her hands sobbing. Priya, with tears on her cheeks,
looked me straight in the eye — and never looked away.
I felt that she was looking for affirmation of the
love her sister openly extolled, and up to now was
openly unacknowledged. I looked at her with all that I
felt in my heart, gently smiled, and mouthed the words
"I love you." She gave me another chocolate blush, and
looked to her mother for affirmation and then to her
father.
Mom was sobbing as if Sarah war HER daughter. Dad
looked at me, then looked at Priya, and simply sighed
and shook his head.
When everyone seemed to be regaining control of
themselves, Salima went into a prayer of praise to
Allah:
"O Allah, you have heard the painful cries of a
mother
for her child! You have sought to lift up my brown-
skinned daughter and carry her above all the
indignities and pain of her life! You have brought her
a love: a love that covers her shame! Praise and glory
be yours forever!"
Priya sat, with hands folded in her lap, and silently
cried as her mother's prayer brought back the memories
of society's indifference and indignity her complexion
had heaped upon her.
Things quieted down and Dad stood up and asked Adib,
"May I speak to your daughter directly?"
Adib replied, "Yes John, you may."
Dad looked at me and said, "Son, is this really
what
your heart desires? Do you wish to seek Priya's hand
in marriage?"
"Yes Dad, I do."
He then turned to Adib and said, "Adib Haaseem, do
you
agree for Sean to seek Priya's hand?"
"I do John, if that is her desire."
He lastly turned to Priya and said, "Priya, is it
your
desire to begin a courtship with Sean?"
"With my father's consent, I desire nothing
more."
Dad stepped back for a moment, then began to address
everyone by saying "First Adib, I suggest that you
take your family home, I'm sure you have a lot to
discuss, as do we. Because of Priya's age, there are
issues — legal issues - to be addressed and dealt
with.
I suggest that we all meet here on Tuesday evening,
say about seven? After having time to discuss things
with our families separately, we can then decide how
we will proceed. Sean, Priya, this doesn't mean that
you two will be able to proceed toward a marriage, but
it doesn't prevent it either. We just need to be
absolutely positive and clear about any decisions we
make. Do we all agree?"
Everyone nodded and said, "Yes."
With that, everyone rose to get ready to part company
for the evening. After saying our praises to Allah and
the obligatory farewells, I stood at the door and
watched as they left. Priya, walking next to Salima,
turned and gently smiled before turning to get in the
car. I closed the door, quietly whispered to her and
myself, "I love you Priya," and then headed to the
living room, anticipating my father's uncontrolled
sentiments on how he REALLY felt.
Continued in Chapter 6…
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