1"... your conscience up in flames."
It has been two days since the incident. The heads of both East and West are furious with the Guerilla attackers from the East who, as per the latest news, have blown up the bridges in the East with the help of weapons supplied from back home. To add fuel to the fire, Pakistan has lost crucial intelegencia information in the actual fire. Sehmat is presented with the menfolk coming home with news. Within a month, they'll be at the border against India in both the East and West. Her expression is purposefully neutral when that piece of information is being discussed, even as Iqbal glances at her.
There is a blanket ban on civilians moving in and out of the cantonment which had been imposed hours after the fire incidence—to make sure that if the culprits are inside the cantonment they cannot get out, and no help given to them from outside. A headcount is being conducted of everyone inside the cantonment. All calls are being monitored for that purpose also, movement should be allowed soon, but until then she only has her thoughts.
With no communication, there is no way for her to know if her allies are secure, or if Mir Sahab has made it out unscathed. There is no way for her to contact South. She is fairly positive, however, that Mir Sahab is fine, wherever he is. He is a seasoned agent; he's been doing this job for years now. If memory serves her right, he had been in a similar situation a few years ago. So she buries her small sprout of worry to the far back of her mind, and focuses instead on things that she thinks are more pressingly worrying. Including whether or not she is with child, and whether the father of, said child, would make it out of the war alive to be able to see them.
They haven't been able to visit the doctor as planned due to the current restrictions, but with every passing second Sehmat is more sure that she is pregnant. She has spent hours tracking and re-tracking the dates and weeks, and several others trying to coax out of her sister-in-law what symptoms of pregnancy are without causing her too much pain. She is very helpful, of course, because that is just what she is like, but Sehmat cannot unsee the melancholia that descends upon Munira every time they talk about a child.
Iqbal has barely spent more than three hours at a stretch at home since the past two days, and those are spent in eating and catching up on sleep, so she really hasn't had a chance to talk to him either. However, she is not completely sure what she would say to him if she did get the chance—she isn't even sure yet. But the restrictions on movement are ending tomorrow, and Munira has already booked an appointment with her doctor, so she supposes she'll find out soon enough.
She is lying awake in bed in the middle of the night when he comes in from work, and in spite of the darkness she can see that Iqbal is tired. His shoulders are sagged and he deposits his possessions on the futon with such an intensity that Sehmat can feel his frustration. She knows the reason for this, of course, the upcoming war—for which they will depart in less than a fortnight—but she has to admit that seeing him so desolate is very disconcerting.
"Would you like dinner?" she asks quietly after a moment.
He looks in her general direction in the dark in what she assumes is surprise and says, with the slightest hint of a smile in his tired voice, "I thought you were asleep."
Sehmat smiles back, not that he can see it. "I never am, am I?"
Iqbal does eventually agree to eat, and once she has gotten out of bed and turned on the lights, she comes to know that it is past one. She remains downstairs to provide him company even as he tells her to go back to sleep, knowing that she is not going to get any, whether in bed or not. She thinks instead of the child—if one exists.
If it does, it will change everything drastically. What would she do then? She'd have to be a lot more careful ... If she is completely honest, she is sacred. Scared of this new development, if it really is … Because what of her job? If, ever in the future, she is discovered, what will become of her child?
She looks towards Iqbal, whose features are tired and distracted. Right now is probably not the best time to have a child, in such an uncertain environment. She then mentally scoffs at herself—as if there will ever be a good time for them to have a child. She chides herself immediately after—whatever their nationality, they are still a wed couple.
To have a child should have been a 'thought out decision', Sehmat thinks. But what has been done cannot be undone. And under no circumstance would she consider aborting. There still remains the question, however, of how Iqbal might react to the news—'If there is news,' part of her brain tells her, and she shushes it. The prospect of his reacting with anything except joy is very real, and her heart constricts at the thought.
Even after returning to bed Sehmat doesn't immediately fall asleep, whether due to nervousness for the next day, or some other reason she is not sure. But she lies in bed for that time thinking about what would happen if she were with child. Ma would be happy, she thinks, if only she could tell her. No letters are being sent home right now, and no calls are being directed there. Nothing will change in that regard, at least until the war ends.
Sehmat is nervous when she wakes up the next day, though she tries not to show it, and there is a strange sort of excitement in her stomach as she opens her eyes. Iqbal is asleep beside her, which is a surprise after days of consistent absence during these hours. She slips off the bed silently, careful not to disturb him, and sets about beginning her day.
She descends into the kitchen, which is occupied by Salma and Munira, the latter of whom smiles upon noticing her presence.
"Nervous?" she whispers to her while stirring a pan in an effort to efficiently fry whole spices, the smell of which is making Sehmat nauseous. Sehmat nods with a grimace and turns to get herself some water, following which she situates herself at the far end of the kitchen.
"We'll leave after breakfast," Munira says over her shoulder as Salma rushes out with the breakfast dishes when she notes Abba's arrival. "Abba and Miyaan are both very worked up today," she adds, watching the helper leave.
"Why?" Sehmat asks, both out of curiosity and self-preservation.
Munira scoffs and turns off the stove, much to Sehmat's relief. "Why do you think? Whoever is responsible for the fire has not yet been caught, and is obviously not in the cantonment. The attack has lowered the soldiers' morale, and they need to leave to prepare for war—within two weeks."
She begins to gather the toast and Sehmat grabs the jug of juice, following her out to the dining table from where Abba has already risen and Mehboob bhaijaan is just sitting down to eat.
"Are you leaving already?" Sehmat asks Abba, noting that the clock shows only seven, and Abba normally leaves at nine.
"There's a lot going on in the country, child," he replies distractedly.
"Should I wake Miyaan?"
"No—Iqbal had come home very late last night—let him sleep a while longer."
Iqbal does not, in fact, sleep any longer and is awake before Sehmat has entered her bedroom. After another hour he has left, and it is just her and Munira. They are also preparing to leave. Sehmat sits on her bed for a while before she leaves the bedroom, feeling her nervousness spread until all parts of her body are functioning only on adrenaline. She rubs her face and sighs. She thought she had made peace with her situation somewhat, but the uncertainty has returned.
She finally makes it downstairs, where Munira bhabhi is waiting, and together they walk towards the foyer. Sehmat is thankful as her sister-in-law gives her a reassuring smile.
There is more security around the cantonment, Sehmat notes, as the car stops at a check post inside the cantonment and then again at a check post outside it. The clinic is situated in a more urban area than the ones she usually travels to—towards the heart of the city. Despite taking a new route to a new destination, Sehmat cannot bring herself to look out of the window or enjoy the sights. She fiddles instead with the zip of her purse and tries not to think about her circumstance or the persistent butterflies in her stomach.
This does not go unnoticed by Munira, who gently holds Sehmat's hand. It's in a calm but serious voice that she says, "It's all going to be fine, Sehmat."
Munira might not know what aspects of having a child Sehmat is worried about, but her words do have a calming effect on her. So much so, that it makes her take in a deep breath and nod gratefully at her companion.
Sehmat takes a moment before she gets out of the car upon finally reaching their destination—a three-storied structure which is entirely a clinic—and before she walks towards it she looks over it apprehensively.
"We'll be about an hour," Munira tells the driver, and squeezes Sehmat's hand lightly.
"This is it," she says, "The moment of truth."
There is excitement in Munira's eyes, but unlike a few minutes ago, this sentence serves only to further deepen Sehmat's doubts. She takes a few deep breaths as if to brace herself, and then the two women walk into the clinic.
Sehmat is fidgeting in her seat across from the doctor and beside Munira. The two women make light conversation while they wait for the result to come back. Sehmat has filled out three different forms and a questionnaire. She is then given two different tests in the fifteen minutes that she has already been there. She suspects the fact that she is part of the syed household to be the reason her test is being conducted immediately. She has heard of women having to wait for two to three days before getting their results, so she supposes she really shouldn't be complaining—and she's not.
She's simply very concerned. About the child, about herself, about her job, and about Iqbal. She is not quite sure if her testing positive would be a good thing. Probably not, as far as her mission is concerned. And it is an unexpected surprise, which she cannot help but feel has dropped at the wrong moment. She does think she would be hugely disappointed if she were to test negative, however, because this child—or, at the very least, the idea of this child—has grown on her. She feels quite protective over it. There also remains the question of what she would tell Iqbal. Should she say anything at all, if she tests negative? And would it be prudent to tell him right now, if she tests positive? And more importantly, what of the vague 'options' that Mir Sahab had been talking of? She is sufficiently positive that he intends to send her back home as soon as possible, perhaps for good. A child would not help.
She gnaws at her lip as she contemplates her questions, and bites it hard enough to draw blood when the assistant steps into the room, a file in hand. She swipes her tongue over her lips, tasting the metallic blood, and watches anxiously as the doctor reads the file, not even daring to breathe. She feels Munira's hand take hold of hers, and vaguely realizes that they are both on the same level of ... excited nervousness.
The doctor finally shuts the file and says with a kind smile as both women draw in their breath, "Congratulations, Mrs. Syed. You are with child."
Glossary
Ma : Mother
Abba : Father
Bhaijaan : Brother
Miyaan : Here, husband.
Bhabhi : Sister-in-law (brother's wife)
Phool chadar : A sheet of knitted flowers used as offerings for worship.
Rajma : Kidney beans
Kabuli Chane : Chickpeas
Assalam aalekum : 'Peace be upon you', an Arabic greeting
Chachi : Aunt
Walaikum assalam : 'And unto you be peace', an Arabic greeting
Beta : here, Child
Ammi : Mother
Mohtarma : Madam
Choti Begum : 'Choti' means younger, and 'Begum' is the title of a married Muslim woman, equivalent to Mrs. Together in this context they refer to Sehmat being the younger daughter-in-law of the house.
