Moni Mohsin - Duty Free

“She said no.”

“What?” I screeched. “Who does she think she is, haan ? I bet you she is playing some game. To drive up her price.”

“Mum!” yelled Kulchoo. “You can’t speak about people like that.”

“You mind your own business, ji ,” I snapped.

“No, really, it sucks!” said Kulchoo.

“Why did she refuse?” Janoo asked Jonkers.

“She said her mother and younger sister were financially dependent on her. And that she could not leave and set up home elsewhere and leave them to manage without her salary.”

“See! See! Next thing she’s going to ask is that Jonkers should take care of them all,” I said. “Have it written down from me, next thing we’ll see is Miss Sana and her whole family moving into Aunty Pussy’s house and taking it over and shoving poor old Uncle and Aunty into the servants’ quarters. And then don’t say I didn’t say.”

“Could you please lower your voice?” Janoo said to me. “I can hear you perfectly well. So, Jonkers, what did you say to Sana then?”

Jonky said he told her that she could carry on with her job and in any case he had never intended to touch her earnings and that as far as he was concerned her money was her own and that she could dispose of it as she wanted. If she wanted to give every last paisa of it to her mother and sister that was her prer … perog … her business. But Sana had said that it didn’t seem fair and that she couldn’t accept. Jonkers had told her not to worry because he could afford it but still she said no, she couldn’t become a burden on him and she wouldn’t be able to spend his money with an easy conscious and so on and so fourth.

I still think it’s all a drama to trap him good and proper. Just wait and see if I’m not right. Then Janoo asked what the up-short of it all was and Jonkers said that she had, after a lot of persuading from him, agreed to discuss it with her mother and that she would let him know what her mother said tomorrow.

“Mother will say, yes, yes, yes,” I said. “I’m telling you from now only.”

Janoo scowled at me but Jonkers turned really grateful eyes at me and said, “Really? You think so? I do hope you’re right.”

Crack.

“Jonky Uncle, may the force be with you,” said Kulchoo.

But then it suddenly donned on me that if Sana’s mother knows, she will loose no time in running around all of Lahore announcing her daughter’s engagement to Jonkers, to make sure he can’t go back on it after that. And Jonkers’ hen will be cooked after that because obviously no decent-types with an illegible daughter would give second looks to Jonkers then. I tell you, these Sana-types are so slippery, so slippery that don’t even ask. Like snakes in oil. Aunty Pussy must know immediately.

“Jonkers,” I said, “Aunty Pussy must know immediately.”

He shrugged. “Sure. I’m heading home now. I’ll tell her. Not that her permission matters. I am going to marry Sana. Whether my mother likes it or not.”

Something’s happened to Jonkers. I think so it must be black magic. Someone’s done it on him. He always used to be so obedient, so quiet. He didn’t ask his mother before marrying Shumaila because I don’t think so he had the guts. And between you, me, and the four walls, I think so it was Shumaila who marched him into the mosque. Knowing her, she didn’t give him a choice. Jonkers just wasn’t the type who’d have the nerves to go against his family like that. And now look at him. Being so pushy and all. It’s definitely black magic, I’m telling you. Someone must have taken a hair or a nail cutting or something of his and done spells on it and knotted black threads or something. Or they must have slaughtered a black hen outside Aunty Pussy’s house and done something with the blood. But who? To be honest, Sana doesn’t look the type. And why would Shumaila bother now? Maybe it’s just some spell that someone meant to put on someone else and it lost its way and came and got stuck to Jonkers instead. But no point telling Janoo about black magic because he will pooh-pooh it straight away. He’s a septic na . Stuppid.

Janoo got up from his chair and put a hand on Jonkers’ shoulder. “I wish you the very best and if there’s anything I can do for you, let me know.”

After Jonkers left I said to Janoo how he could encourage Jonkers like that? Did he have no sense of loyalty? He knew we didn’t want this marriage. Who’s we? he asked me. I said, me and Mummy and Aunty Pussy, who else? And he said that excuse me, but Jonkers’ wishes mattered more. And in any case what had I against Sana? I hadn’t even met her and I’d taken against her just like that. And I said, excuse me ji , but I had met her twice and once to talk to also. So he asked me what objection I had to her. And I said that who was I to object? If Jonkers wants, Jonkers can have. You know me, I said, last thing I do is spoil other people’s fun. It’s just that she’s a nobody and probably a gold-dogger also. That’s all.

“Jeez, Mum,” said Kulchoo. “I’ll pretend you didn’t say that.”

“You keep quiet,” I shouted.

“You know what? You make me sick!” he shouted back.

And he stomped out of the room and slammed the door.

“See that?” I said to Janoo. “He talks to me like that because of you . You’ve turned him against me.”

“He’s reacting to what you are saying. Not what I’m saying,” he said.

Then Janoo asked me to think back to when I’d met Sana. What about her behaviour had made me think that she was after Jonkers’ money? So I thought back to that meeting in her office and her giving me coffee and agreeing to do my tickets so quickly and being so friendly and all and I said, she was too nice which proved she was after his money. Janoo wanted to know if she’d done flattery of me and I said no. He asked if she’d shown too much interest in me or my family, and who we were and whom we knew. I said no. And then he asked if she’d looked like she was sucking up to Jonkers. I remembered her ordering him back to his chair. So again, I said no.

“So why do you think she’s up to no good then?”

So I told him then that the baggrounds didn’t match.

For a long time he looked at the ceiling. He looked for so long that I also looked up. Were there some cracks in it? Holes? Spiders’ webs? Then Janoo suddenly stopped looking. He held me by the elbows and said: That. Did. Not. Matter. What mattered was that the girl seemed nice and that Jonkers seemed to like her. And that was enough. They should be allowed to figure it out for themselves without other people jumping in with their wrong-headed suggestions. And what, I asked, if Jonkers was wrong like before? Then Jonkers would have to deal with it, he said. Had Jonkers asked me to deal with the fallout after Shumaila? No, I said, Jonkers didn’t say one word even. But Aunty Pussy did. But did Jonkers ? Janoo asked again. No, I said.

“Well then, let him be. It’s important that he marries a partner. Someone with whom he feels at ease and whose company he enjoys and with whom he shares interests. Otherwise marriage can be a very lonely experience.”

I looked at him. Then I asked, “Are you lonely?”

He didn’t reply for a while. I could hear the gardener watering the plants outside our window. And then Janoo said, quietly, “Sometimes.”

“I am also lonely,” I whispered. “Not all the time. But sometimes.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

He took a step towards me and touched my cheek. He tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. I covered his hand with my own and held it against my cheek. Just then, my stuppid mobile rang. Janoo shook his head at me but it was too late, I’d already picked it up. It was Mummy.