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Forty-eight Hours

Samani Subedi

It’s already 2 p.m. and I still, have a pile on my desk. God, work never ends… I need a long vacation. Rikesh Joshi, my boss, has something for me to do, till the last hour. Today I had especially asked him for a half-day leave. He must have been a slave-driver in his past life!

My phone is ringing. This ringtone gets me at the wrong time. “Hello Reeta, I won’t come for lunch today. I have a lot to do.

Oh, didn’t I tell you I wouldn’t come to the canteen today? I’m sorry.”

Gosh! I should be leaving office by now. But I can’t shirk my responsibilities.

I really don’t want to go, though I love marriage rituals, mehendi, sangeet…Well I can’t put off this one! It’s Poonam’s mehendi. Poonam, my Punni, my friend! What have you done?

How could you take those marriage vows with an unknown person? Wasn’t it, Rehman, that you loved? He did love you too? Else why did you let religion, society and family interfere? Even though it was

your uncle who had, like a Tsunami, swept away your budding love, how could love be so weak? You were the one who said that love is the strongest force on earth. When you talked of love, I was the one

who argued that religion and caste are bigger issues in society; these have the power to erase love, and you had contested on my claims!

Poonam and Rehman! Poonam’s father was distraught; even her mother was adamant on this matter. Oh, it’s so frustrating!

When Poonam had introduced me to Rehman. I too had started to believe that true love does exist in this world. I could feel the intensity of their love. I had tried to convince Poonam’s mother

about Rehman but religion got in the way. Besides that, I was an outsider to meddle in such matters. Poonam’s mother had directly told me I was naïve and wouldn’t know the implications of such

love marriages! Then she had bluntly retorted to me, “Why then don’t you marry someone against your religion and set an example? Why do you want Poonam to suffer?” This turn of events was totally bizarre. And I had nothing to say.

I have refused to bond with anyone out of choice. Do I need to engage in a relationship to understand feelings and emotions?

This is about Poonam and Rehman. Blanketed in a sheet of prejudices of religion and hierarchy, love was ruptured.

Yesterday, on my way to office, I met a relative. “So Poonam is getting married,” he said, “isn’t she younger than you? As for yourself, Minakshi, when are you going to marry? This way, you will ruin your parents’ after-life; you will bring disgrace to your family.”

What the heck! How will my not wanting to marry ruin my family reputation? I am tired of this mindset of people in my community. My life is nobody’s business … It’s my choice to remain this way!

For me, marriage is not the only mission in life. I wonder if marriage is a status symbol, or if it is even necessary to build reputation in the society. I have my own opinion. And I have decided, I shall only listen to words that convince me.

The office boy intervenes into my thoughts.

“Ma’am, Minakshi Ma’am, do you want black coffee?”

“Oh yeah! I need it absolutely. Thanks, dear. I’m getting late! Mr. Joshi hasn’t called me yet. I need to submit all the reports now. Could you please check him out?”

“OK, Ma’am; I will.”

My cell displays Punni’s message: “Minaku, where RU? Come soon. CU soon. Missing you terribly.”

Oh you fool, don’t call me again and again. I will be there as soon as possible. You guys are disturbing me. For once, switch off your damn phone. I’ll shut mine too. Let me concentrate on my work.

Shit! The watch stopped working. OMG; it’s almost 3:30. I  don’t understand what the hell is going on. Why am I feeling so low? Oh God please…

That day, at New Road, Poonam had introduced me to Rehman! We went for a movie, had chana chat-pat, and ice-cream.

Rehman had brought his little brother Ali along. “Minaku Dee, will you marry me?” he had proposed. The eight-year-old kid!

We all had laughed. Rehman had teased him: “Ali, do you know what marriage is?” Then from behind his brother’s back, Ali had acted coy the whole day. I was surprised that for some people fascination for marriage starts early.

It was five years back that you left us, Ali. I love you. Come back! Are you watching this mehendi too with teary eyes? Allah, take care of Ali! He must be very disappointed with us all. My little brother Ali, come back; we are missing you.

Poonam will certainly kill me. 

“Please Minaku don’t be late today. I have something to tell you.”

This morning I had noticed her eyes. I have been able to read Punni’s mind since childhood. I know her more than myself, but today I couldn’t figure this strange expression. Her eyes were strange. It’s got me worried.

Today, Poonam’s family is happy. They say, Poonam is the luckiest girl on earth—a good and smart girl, who made a good decision in life! Her Baba and Amma are proud parents! What could I say?

Finally, I’ve finished all my work. It’s 4 p.m. now. I don’t want a tag at the office too, of irresponsibility. One tag of being irresponsible I have already had by not getting married. I question the world: do I have to prove my responsibility by getting married and not by my work? I enter the venue of Poonam’s mehendi function, expecting the same questions of my marriage, and taunts of me being elder to Poonam!

One question always puzzles me: do people actually get married to please their family, and neighbors or because the guy is rich? Then what is love; just a useless emotion, or a feeling, or just an adjustment to life? Is there anything wrong in their feelings of love for each other: Poonam’s for Rehman and vice versa? They had cried a lot that day, and I was a witness to their love.

When I see couples walking together, I wonder how many are really happy, or think if they just pretend to be in bliss to others and to themselves! I surmise how many times these couples need to repeat, “We are happy!” to affirm the statement.

The place is empty. “What’s going on? Hello, helloooo… Punni…Ammu…what’s going on? You people are scaring me…Laxmi, there you are. What happened? Why are you crying?”

“Minaku Di, I don’t know. Something is wrong with Poonam Didi. Everybody rushed to the hospital. We tried to contact you but your cell was unreachable.”

“Hospital! Which?”

“Teaching Hospital, Maharajganj. Poonam Didi told me to give this to you.”

“When, what is that?”

“Around 2 p.m.”

“Oh! Let me see; a letter!”

Dear Minaku, I know this letter will shock you. But I am sorry Minaku. I hope you will understand me. I tried a lot. I can’t forget Rehman; neither can I cheat Bishal. Please tell Rehman I still love him even more. And Bishal, please thank him from my side. He is a good person and I know he will understand. I didn’t want everything to end this way, but I had no option. I always wanted to be like you, strong and bold, but couldn’t. I waited for you. I will be with Ali.

Remember, we once talked about being together in life and after this life too. We will be together sometime again. I love you.

Yours Punni

Punni. Why did you do this? I never expected this from you! How could the color of your mehendi ever be red! You always had darker mehendi than mine, but this time you cheated us all Punni. I can never forgive myself.

I have to reach the hospital soon. I have to meet Rehman. And Bishal of course, poor guys …

“No, don’t worry Laxmi; don’t cry. We will reach on time. Come with me.”

“How is she, Rehman?”

 “Better … much better, Minakshi.”

“Where is she?

“Operation theater.”

“Can we see her now?

“I don’t know. Bishal is there.”

“Okay, we’ll wait here …”

“Oh Bishal. Thank God, you are here. How is Punni?”

“Minakshi, calm down. The operation was successful. But I don’t understand why all this had to happen. You guys could have talked to me.”

I cry. Rehman cries too.

Everything will be fine now. God, thank you so much. Ali, it was your prayers that saved her, wasn’t it? Punni’s parents have agreed! Punni will be with us again, with Rehman now.

And I will have to look for new answers to define love.

*** 

[Samani is an MA in English from Pokhara University. A social worker by profession, she also writes short stories.]

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