Even the house’s empty corners have their own curiosities
When she was here, she was the one to buy my clothes. Whenever she would make any money, she would bring me and the children clothes and fruit. Everytime I go to the shopkeeper, I begin to get annoyed with him. I don’t know what color or what cloth to buy. I open the fridge and close it without eating anything. When I come back home, everything seems empty and lost. She was very sociable and would never let any visitor leave the house without a meal.
Whether rain or snow, every Thursday she would go to the shrine of Bibi Pak Daman. She always wanted to see the House of the Prophet. We didn’t have the resources for this but, in her heart, she had a dream. May those who took advantage of her innocence suffer. She had set up a small clothes shop in front of the house. That’s where she met some woman. This woman forbade her from telling us anything. I wasn’t home, I had left the city for some work. That’s when all of this happened.
Mapping the past
A matchbox, three bangles, a toy and some books.
My children never threw away anything, ruined anything, lost anything. We still have a bed he made for the children. There is a shirt of his that my daughter wears and has mended again and again over the years. The children have kept all of their father’s possessions safe. When my daughter got married, she took out a matchbox that he had written her name on. “Mehwish.”
Mehwish says, “I kept it with me, thinking that I’d show it to my father when he returned, show him how I never lost it.” We’ve kept everything, hoping he’ll return and be happy to see them. My children are careful with every breath and every step they take, making sure no one has a chance to say that they’re out of control because they don’t have their father around. I have only one son. He would play wrestling with his father, and they would watch cricket together.
Searching for spring in the autumn
I’d known him since childhood. If anyone needed to go anywhere, even in the middle of the night, he was the first to volunteer. If one had to go to the hospital, if one had to go to the market, he would take them. He was always ready to help everyone. He was very sociable, always laughing. He loved tea, at home he would get it made three times, and would always have a cup before leaving for work.
Life was going well. We had one son, with another on the way. He was busy working and if life wasn’t too easy, it wasn’t too difficult either. He never mentioned that he was worried about money or that work was hard.
The phone never rang again
When I was a child, my brother would braid my hair and take me to school on his bicycle.
I taught him how to make roti and he taught me how to make chicken saalan. Our mother was always ill, and so she couldn’t do much work. He didn’t want anyone to taunt us if we couldn’t afford certain things because we didn’t have a father. If I ever mentioned that I wanted anything, he would get it for me in a couple days. His taste was exquisite. Jewellery, makeup, clothes, he would always buy lovely things. A
After his daughter was born and expenses rose, he began to worry. Sometimes he would cry a lot. He would earn around 15 or 20,000 from the rice mill. That’s where someone sold him the dream of going abroad. He took loans from friends, sold his wife’s jewellery, gave everything he had. But they betrayed him. We didn’t hear from him for days after he first left the house. We had no idea what had happened. We called his friends, our relatives and made inquiries but to no avail.
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