Red, Gold and Green

 Yusuf sat on the bench overlooking the lake and took out from his pocket a small plastic packet. He put it on the bench and opened up his daily lunch which was always two paranthas and pickle. He would come to the same place everyday in the afternoon to relax awhile, for throughout the day he had to do a lot of work at his maternal uncle, Razzak’s furniture workshop. Yusuf had lost his parents in a road accident and he was brought up by his uncle who would love him at home but at the workshop he was a terror and, often, would get violent if the young lad made any mistake.  He would use filthy language at the drop of a hat and would also get into ugly fights with his customers. 

Yusuf found this bench near the lake the perfect place to spend an hour where he could listen to the birds in the trees above, see the calmness of the water and, at times, he would throw stones  with all his might just to give vent to his anger and frustration. And today was no different. Yusuf had cut a piece of wood slightly missing the pencil markings by a few millimetres and Razzak almost chopped off his ears with a saw…”Who will pay for this wasted piece of wood…your bloody father!”

Yusuf was about sixteen years old but he was very tall and had bushes of beard peeping out. He would never wear the skull cap, nor would go to the mosque, even on Fridays. He would find his way to the lake and here he felt the happiest. He was still fuming from the incident at the workshop that day and was contemplating an escape to another place to start a new life when another person came and sat on the other end of the bench. His eyes fell on a lady who was wearing a black burkha. He could not make out if she was young or old, pretty or not, fat or slim….she was covered from head to toes completely. She seemed to be sobbing beneath the veil which Yusuf could make out from the sound that came from her end. 

“None of my business but one thing is clear, I am not alone who’s having a difficult time in this world.” He said to himself and felt happy. He got up and left for it was time to go back to work. He was extra cautious and made sure he would not make his uncle lose his cool again, but he could not forget the woman by the lake…Who was she and why was she crying…did she, like him, have a cruel uncle or aunt?

Next afternoon, Yusuf reached his usual place on time and finished his lunch quickly. Every now and then he would look at the other end of the bench to see if the lady had come but was disappointed. After waiting for some time, he looked at his watch and decided to leave. He had taken a few steps when he saw the woman in black burkha coming. Yusuf quickly retreated and sat down once again. Yusuf tried hard not to look directly, and would slightly turn his head to see the woman on the other end. He knew he was getting late but he chose to stay a bit longer here. Yusuf saw the woman open her purse and take out her phone. She then started typing quickly. What she was writing he did not know but he noticed her fingers. The skin was smooth and fresh…he knew the person was definitely young. Yusuf then noticed her nails….she had painted each of her nails in different colours….red, yellow, orange, green and blue. Yusuf could not help smiling….just then his phone started ringing….

He took the call and without saying anything quickly shut his phone for the stream of expletives from the other end of the phone was so loud that possibly all the people in the vicinity could hear. Like a frightened street dog, Yusuf put his tail between his legs and made a hasty exit from the scene. What happened at the workshop is left to everyone’s imagination but, forgetting all the problems and curses of the workshop, Yusuf lay in his room, watching the moon through the window, and remembered the colourful nails…If someone has such pretty fingers, she surely must be very beautiful…he dreamt and dreamt and hardly slept that night.

Yusuf now waited for that hour when he could meet the pretty woman. And she hardly ever failed him. On days she did not turn up, Yusuf would be sad and, at times, go to bed without his dinner. On other days, he was completely in seventh heaven….smiling to everyone, waving to strangers on the road and even handing over some coins to beggars on the street. 

This went on for a couple of weeks and, by now, Yusuf was bold enough to look straight at the woman who would give him a knowing wave of her hands…Hello! She did not say anything, he did not say anything…just sitting there side by side together for an hour by the lake side. One day, the burkhaclad lady lifted her veil and smiled at him. Yusuf was stunned by the beauty that was hidden behind the veil for so long. She looked very young…no more than fifteen or sixteen…big beautiful eyes and perfectly chiselled nose and lips. She now spoke…My name is Shamina and I stay in Mubarakpura. I have completed my tenth standard and my father does not want me to study any further. You tell me about yourself…

Yusuf kept looking at her with his eyes popping out and his heart thumping hard. He just sat there without uttering a single word. After a while, Shamina put her veil down and left for home. Yusuf returned to the workshop and quietly got back to his work. He worked till late and then retired to his daily routine of staying up at night. He had started to even pen his thoughts in a small notebook he kept locked during the day in the steel trunk under his charpoy. By now Shamina had also shared her mobile number and he would text her when all seemed quiet and asleep. She too reciprocated…word for word and couplet for couplet.

One day, Shamina found courage and sat closer to Yusuf. He was almost shivering but liked the fragrance she had on herself. She even held her hand over his hand and all Yusuf did was to look into her eyes and smiled. She too smiled and asked…Why don’t you say something to me? Yusuf pulled his hand away and walked off. Shamina could not understand his strange reaction. 

The next day, Shamina did not come to the lakeside bench. Yusuf waited anxiously for her but she did not turn up. After finishing work, Yusuf went to Mubarakpura. He walked past her house a number of times but he could not see her. The house looked deserted. His messages were going undelivered. Yusuf was a disturbed man and it was also affecting his work. He would often land up into trouble and Razzak did not know what had come over his nephew who was lately showing great talent and finesse at work. Yusuf would diligently go to the lakeside every afternoon and to Mubarakpura every evening where people had started recognizing the young lad who walked up and down, up and down many times with his eyes glued to that one house. 

One day, out of nowhere, Shamina turned up in the afternoon where Yusuf had just started eating his lunch. She lifted her veil and said…”I will not be coming here anymore. My father has arranged for my marriage. Do not send me any messages for it will make my life at home difficult and spoil my new life in my new home.”

Yusuf looked at Shamina and gave out a loud scream….loudest you would ever hear anyone and was in tears. He was not ashamed of letting Shamina see him crying like someone who had just been orphaned once more. Shamina felt embarrassed and she left the wedding card on the bench and walked away. At first, Yusuf did not want to touch the card lying there….  “Did she really want me to her go to her nikaah and enjoy the festivities? I will never go there.” He left the card untouched on the bench and left for the workshop. Next day, when Yusuf returned, he found the invitation card still lying there. Reluctantly, Yusuf picked up the card and started reading and then threw the card and the envelope into the air and started dancing wildly with tears in his eyes….other people nearby could not understand the mixed reaction of joy and sadness and concluded that the boyhad lost it…gone completely loony.

Shamina’s wedding was a big affair. Her father, who was a local municipal corporator, had made all the arrangements and hired the best of decorators, band and caterers to make sure the guests got the best feast ever. A large number of people came and the prominent leaders of the community also turned up to bless the couple. The kazi did the nikhahnama and the people came on to the stage in a queue to bless the couple, Shamina had her head covered fully and could hardly see anyone other than hearing their names. After everything got over, a crying Shamina stepped into the car, which was decorated with roses all over, with her husband who wore a nicely fitted achhkan and finely decorated cap. He looked tall, strong and handsome.  He was a businessman and had a house of his own.

After the initial rituals at the groom’s place were over, Shamina could breathe easy and entered the bedroom to change into something light. The wedding clothes and jewellery were so heavy that she almost fell down with their weight. The room and the bed were once again beautifully decorated with flowers and small lights which would turn from red to green and from green to golden intermittently. She sat down on the bed to rest a while when her eyes fell on a side board which looked new. The thing had two small pullouts on top and three long ones below. What caught her eye were the bright colours …orange and red on top followed by blue, yellow and green at the bottom. She walked up to the side board and was admiring it when she heard her husband speak from behind….

I got this made especially for you. Open the drawers and see….I  have filled them up with the choicest clothes for you. I hope you like them.

Shamina felt really happy. Here is someone who cared for her. She said…Shukriya….I liked this piece of furniture very much. How did you know that I liked these colours?

Oh, this was made by my nephew, Yusuf, who works in myshop and stays in this house. He did this all on his own and,despite my objections, put all these five colours. He guessed it right that my young and beautiful wife will surely love it more than the usual drab wooden single colour furnitures my people usually make. The poor fellow lost both his parents in a tragic car accident at a young age and he lost his ability to speak in the same incident. It is he who made this and I am happy you liked it. You should convey your compliments to him in person. I will call him and introduce you to him…Yusuf…Yusuf…

SS