Nadia Hashimi - The Pearl that Broke Its Shell

Azizullah chuckled. “Well, may God forgive their sins even if your bobo-jan will not. Tell them your kaka Azizullah and your cousin are paying a visit.”

Hameed led them into the courtyard and ran inside announcing their arrival at a volume that rivaled the mullah’s azaan, call to prayer.

“Bobo- jaaaaaaaan ! Bobaaaaaaaaaa! Kaka Azizullah brought Shekiba baaaack!”

Shekiba panicked even more and turned to look at Azizullah’s face. Had he really brought her for a visit or was he returning her to this house? Maybe Marjan had complained about her? About the way she sat? About her odd questions? Her palms grew sweaty. The burqa was suffocating.

Azizullah’s attention had turned to a flowering bush. He was examining the petals and did not seem to notice Hameed’s announcement.

Kaka Freidun appeared in the doorway. He looked unsettled.

“Agha Azizullah! Welcome! How wonderful to see you.” Kaka Freidun extended his arms in greeting. The men hugged and exchanged customary pecks on the cheek. “How are you? How is your family?”

“Everyone is well, thank you. And you? Bobo Shahgul is in good health, I pray?”

“Ah, the usual aches and pains of age and unruly children,” he joked, shooting me a glaring look. He thinks I have done something wrong. Already, he would love to punish me.

“Your family is blessed to have her at this age. I still grieve my mother, God rest her soul, and it has already been two years since she passed.”

“May Allah forgive her and may heaven be her place of rest,” Freidun said. “Please come in. Join us for a cup of tea.”

They walked toward the house and Shekiba stood a few meters back. She felt out of place and shifted on her feet. She was within her family’s courtyard but she kept her burqa on. She preferred its cover for the time being.

“Azizullah- jan, we have not seen each other in some time. I hope that things are well at home.” Freidun’s statement was more of a question. He was trying to gauge the reason behind the visit.

“Yes, yes, things are well. And you? How is the family doing? How is the farm? Are your crops doing well this year?”

“As well as can be expected, with the lack of rain. The dry skies do not help but we are hoping to make at least enough to get by.”

“I have heard similar complaints from others around town. And where is Bobo Shahgul? Is she resting?”

“She went to lie down after she finished her prayers,” Freidun said. “Did you want to speak to her?” Again, he looked anxious.

Kaka Zalmai and Kaka Sheeragha entered the courtyard, their expressions mirroring their brother’s. Azizullah stood and the men hugged and exchanged brief pleasantries.

Her uncles pretended not to notice her in the background. Shekiba knew she should go through the back door and find the women but she had little interest in doing so.

“Shekiba wanted to pay a visit to the family, since Eid is coming next week. She missed everyone a great deal and wanted to say hello, especially to Bobo Shahgul.”

Her uncles could not conceal their surprise. After a moment, Kaka Freidun nodded smugly.

“Ah, I see. I am not surprised. Bobo Shahgul is much loved by all her grandchildren.”

He thinks I regret how I left. He’s even dumber than his wife.

“Her grandmother is probably about to wake up from her rest and will surely be surprised to see her,” Freidun said.

Shekiba’s lips tightened with frustration.

“Well, you have come all this way. Let us go inside and share a cup of tea with you, dear friend. Surely Bobo Shahgul will be happy for the time with her dear granddaughter!” Freidun said glibly.

Zalmai and Sheeragha shared a smirk.

Shekiba felt like a puppet; her arms and legs were being directed by her uncle. What else could she do? Her every move was propelled by her desire to stay out of this house. If Azizullah saw her as an insolent girl, she risked being returned to her family.

Her legs obeyed and she walked slowly through the back door of the house. She passed by Khala Samina’s son, Ashraf, who was carrying a tray of steaming teacups and bowls of raisins and nuts. The cups rattled with his unbalanced nerves.

Shekiba walked into the hallway and paused. Should she really go to her grandmother? Would they check on her? She lifted her burqa and let it drape from her head.

Khala Samina appeared in the hallway. She was thin framed, more petite than her sisters-in-law.

“ Salaam, Shekiba,” she said quietly. “She knows you’re here. She’s waiting for you.”

“ Salaam, ” Shekiba answered.

“Shekiba…”

She turned around to look at her aunt, who was scratching her forehead. She took a few steps toward Shekiba and lowered her voice.

“She is an ornery old lady. Don’t give her any reasons. She knows no other means of entertaining herself.”

Shekiba nodded, suddenly feeling her throat tighten. Samina’s voice was gentle, a tone rarely used toward Shekiba. She suddenly felt a gaping hole where her mother should have been.

“Thank you, Khala Samina.”

Samina closed her eyes briefly and nodded her head in acknowledgment before she resumed her work in the kitchen.

Shekiba walked a few more meters to Bobo Shahgul’s room. She could see through the gauzy curtain that her grandmother sat in a chair with her walking stick in her hand. Her bony fingers were wrapped tightly around the stick.

She knows I am here. I have no choice now.

Shekiba pulled the curtain aside and met her grandmother’s icy stare.

“Well, well. Look who has decided to disrupt our peace yet again.”

“ Salaam. ” Shekiba decided she would take Samina’s advice and try not to antagonize the old woman.

“ Salaaaaam, ” Bobo Shahgul said mockingly. “You stupid girl. How dare you come here? How dare you step foot in this house?”

Shekiba steeled herself. She had taken worse. All she had to do was resist the temptation to fire back.

You need to get to your house and get the deed. Do not forget why you came here. Do not let the old lady distract you.

“Eid mubarak, Bobo- jan .”

“As if I needed to see that face,” she replied, turning away in repulsion. “There is no Eid for a disrespectful creature like you — you dare to disrespect the grandmother who took you in even after you robbed her of her son.” She rose on her hobbled feet, fueled by rage.

“My father was a wise man who decided for himself.”

Shekiba saw it coming but hardly flinched.

Bobo Shahgul’s walking stick came crashing down on her shoulder.

She is weaker than a few months ago, Shekiba realized.

“Bobo- jan, how is your health? You’re looking a bit frail, God forbid.”

A second blow. She was trying harder.

“You beast! Get out of my house!”

“As you please,” Shekiba said, turned and walked out with her chin held high. She had said nothing. And nothing could have made Bobo Shahgul more irate.

Shekiba stopped by the kitchen. She wondered if Khala Samina had heard the conversation.

“Dear girl, there is something about you that makes that old lady crazy.”

She had heard.

“Khala Samina, I want to get a few things from my father’s house. I will not take long.” Shekiba looked in the direction of the living room. She could hear the men laughing.

Samina shook her head. “Do as you must — you are not a child. But understand that there are many people willing to make your life more difficult. It is up to you to find a way to make things easier for yourself.”

Shekiba nodded, wondering which one of them was more naïve.