The girl was pretty. Or rather she had very pretty eyes. Luminous, dark orbs glinting curiously at the passers by. The rest of her was covered by the hijaab, the head to toe black robes of the Moslem women. What was she doing in Singapore I wondered..
The Mercedes was wending its way smoothly along the coppery gold streets. It glided slowly to a stop at the traffic lights. Excited, unable to contain myself, I leaned out to get a better look. Where I come from that was surely banned. But besides the car was a young couple. I leaned out of the car, shocked, apalled ! The girl was wearing unbelievably short shorts ! Her slick halter top revealed a generous cleavage. and most of her back was exposed, shining white! Allah ! Surely she would be arrested ? Or worse, some man would swoop upon her and carry her off ! She turned to sneak a look at her husband. But he was absorbed in a phone call, seeing with unseeing eyes. As she watched, the girl turned to her companion and bestowed a loving kiss on his lips. The smile they shared, the spontaneous holding of each others' hands as they crossed the road, stayed with her for a long time.
Strange country this. Looking around her as the lights changed and the car purred ahead, she realised that she was the only one staring! People all around were self absorbed, busy with cells or simply intent on crossing the road. Indignation, anger almost, flowed through her. Why was the girl not being accosted, dragged away to the police station ? How heinous, shameful was her behaviour ! She stole a glance at her husband. An imposing looking man. He was handsome, if much older than her. After all she was his second wife. This trip was a honeymoon, of sorts. A working holiday for him. He had indulged his wife and allowed her to accompany him. The mullah had recommended he go to Malaysia. Prayers at a particular masjid and the powerful herbs sold by a hakim there always guaranteed the birth of a son. Singapore was the business end of the trip.
He turned to see his wife, bristling with indignation as she pointed at a model displaying a bikini in a passing lingerie shop. He laughed and said something in Arabic, which had her blush a beetroot red and pull the mask attached to her burqa over her eyes. Indeed they were in a country of infidels. Surely on the day of Qayamat, they would burn in hell, she thought.
I stood looking out of the window. The luxurious suite of the hotel was a gilded cage. My husband had left at ten in the morning, before I had barely awakened. Awake I was though and restless. As I paced past the windows, I looked down to see the blue glistening waters of the swimming pool. What I saw had me thunder struck ! Women lay on the beach chairs, wearing almost next to nothing. Their upper bodies were naked, just a nonchalant towel thrown over their chests. The lower extremities were just covered with the tiniest of cloths, not big enough to be even called underwear. As I stood aghast, I saw men swimming in the pool too. One emerged from it, and making his way past the sleeping women, settled down beside a woman, who leaned over to say something to him. They both sat up and taking a bottle of lotion the man began to rub it all over her back. The sheer brazeness of it all had me standing their mouth agape.
The knock on the door startled me. Reaching for my hijaab, I put the chain over the door before opening it a tiny fraction. The girl standing outside wore housekeeping uniform : pants and a short top. Her face, though was unmistakable. She was the same woman I had seen at the traffic lights. As I looked inquiringly at her, she spoke, first in English, then seeing the incomprehension on my face, in Arabic. Smiling hesitatingly I let her in. Then, unable to stop myself, I told her that I had seen her yesterday at the signals. Eager to know more about her, I struck up a conversation, asking her how she came to know Arabic. She told me that it was one of the languages she had learnt in school.
Time flew. As she set about cleaning the room, we talked. She told me about Singapore schools, how women as well as men, studied together, underwent compulsory military training together after university. The woman standing before me was indeed a confident, smart young woman. She apoke five languages, earned her own living and was going to marry her boyfriend after a month. When I pointed at the pool, she smiled, then told me that was the way women dressed while swimming. What I saw before me was a world, that was free. Free to live, dress, move, earn, marry even, as they wished ! By the time she was gone, I had glimpsed a world so alien to mine, it was almost like another planet.
Alone for the entire day, I had lots to think about. Within me raced mixed emotions. I was superior to her where my station in life was concerned, or was i ? Determined to find out more, I called her back.
The next day, I was up as soon as my husband had left. Actually I was so excited I had hardly slept the whole night. Having dressed in a hurry, I waited anxiously for the clock to strike ten. Five minutes before, I walked out of the room. My mouth felt dry, my hands shook as I hurried to the elevators. For the first time in my life, I was going out unaccompanied ! That too, in a foreign country. An alien, alien land. As I walked towards the doors and out of the hotel, I broke into a sweat, wondering if she would be there. Praise be to Allah, she was. Hijaab firmly in place, I walked with her towards the car I thought she had brought with her. Alas, to my horror ahe was pointing towards a small motor cycle ! Before I could refuse, she had hustled me onto the back seat, carefully arranged my hijaab around my legs and we were off.. !
I asked her anxiously, " Are you sure we won't be discovered ?" Not only would it be catastrophy for me, she would lose her job as well. "Ah, she replied, "Don't worry. I'll have you back in good time."
As we zipped thru the streets, a strange exhilaration rose within me. Eagerly I took in all that she was trying to tell me, show me. Wide eyed, I took in the sights, smells and sounds of this lovely city. The bird park was an amazing place. I watched as the fabulously colored birds flew about, sometimes at will, sometimes in obedience to commands. How free were they, how magnificent their surroundings, how loved were they ! For lunch she took me to a Macdonalds outlet, letting me stand in line and ask in broken English for a burger, fries and a coke. The best meal of my life ! Next stop was the beach. We walked together, I took her hand in mine, as we waded thru the shallows. As I walked, a strange kind of happiness bubbled through mu entire being. For this day, this moment I was Me. Not a daughter, not a wife, not one in a sea of black, but in a multihued, serene, liberated world. Just being Me. Just being.
As we rounded a rock, Maria, for that was her name, asked me to stop. Before I knew what was happening she had pulled off my hijaab ! Stunned I looked at her at first, the protests, the fury I ought to have felt dying within me, as I slowly stepped out of it. I raised my hands, then my face up to the skies. Was I alive, still ? Hadn't I died and gone to heaven ? I must have ! The spray from the sea stung my face, my black tresses flowing freely around my body, as if aping the hijaab. Time stood still. I walked, I sat, arms wrapped tightly around my knees. I stretched, even ran a bit on the sands. I picked up shells, even a starfish that had washed ashore. I waded into the waters, up to my waist. Maria just sat and watched me.
I didn't know what time my husband came to the room that night. Even he must have been surprised to see me fast asleep as early as ten, when I had been pacing the room upto twelve the previous night, exhorting that I could not sleep, after having been cooped up the entire day.
We left Singapore the next day. Maria, came to the room before I left. I slipped her a card along with my diamond ring. A marriage ring I had no use for. For it shackled me. But was a symbol of liberation for her. My ties were of compulsion, I was the caged bird. Hers were of love, and so she flew. High up into the azure skies of Singapore.
The Mercedes was wending its way smoothly along the coppery gold streets. It glided slowly to a stop at the traffic lights. Excited, unable to contain myself, I leaned out to get a better look. Where I come from that was surely banned. But besides the car was a young couple. I leaned out of the car, shocked, apalled ! The girl was wearing unbelievably short shorts ! Her slick halter top revealed a generous cleavage. and most of her back was exposed, shining white! Allah ! Surely she would be arrested ? Or worse, some man would swoop upon her and carry her off ! She turned to sneak a look at her husband. But he was absorbed in a phone call, seeing with unseeing eyes. As she watched, the girl turned to her companion and bestowed a loving kiss on his lips. The smile they shared, the spontaneous holding of each others' hands as they crossed the road, stayed with her for a long time.
Strange country this. Looking around her as the lights changed and the car purred ahead, she realised that she was the only one staring! People all around were self absorbed, busy with cells or simply intent on crossing the road. Indignation, anger almost, flowed through her. Why was the girl not being accosted, dragged away to the police station ? How heinous, shameful was her behaviour ! She stole a glance at her husband. An imposing looking man. He was handsome, if much older than her. After all she was his second wife. This trip was a honeymoon, of sorts. A working holiday for him. He had indulged his wife and allowed her to accompany him. The mullah had recommended he go to Malaysia. Prayers at a particular masjid and the powerful herbs sold by a hakim there always guaranteed the birth of a son. Singapore was the business end of the trip.
He turned to see his wife, bristling with indignation as she pointed at a model displaying a bikini in a passing lingerie shop. He laughed and said something in Arabic, which had her blush a beetroot red and pull the mask attached to her burqa over her eyes. Indeed they were in a country of infidels. Surely on the day of Qayamat, they would burn in hell, she thought.
I stood looking out of the window. The luxurious suite of the hotel was a gilded cage. My husband had left at ten in the morning, before I had barely awakened. Awake I was though and restless. As I paced past the windows, I looked down to see the blue glistening waters of the swimming pool. What I saw had me thunder struck ! Women lay on the beach chairs, wearing almost next to nothing. Their upper bodies were naked, just a nonchalant towel thrown over their chests. The lower extremities were just covered with the tiniest of cloths, not big enough to be even called underwear. As I stood aghast, I saw men swimming in the pool too. One emerged from it, and making his way past the sleeping women, settled down beside a woman, who leaned over to say something to him. They both sat up and taking a bottle of lotion the man began to rub it all over her back. The sheer brazeness of it all had me standing their mouth agape.
The knock on the door startled me. Reaching for my hijaab, I put the chain over the door before opening it a tiny fraction. The girl standing outside wore housekeeping uniform : pants and a short top. Her face, though was unmistakable. She was the same woman I had seen at the traffic lights. As I looked inquiringly at her, she spoke, first in English, then seeing the incomprehension on my face, in Arabic. Smiling hesitatingly I let her in. Then, unable to stop myself, I told her that I had seen her yesterday at the signals. Eager to know more about her, I struck up a conversation, asking her how she came to know Arabic. She told me that it was one of the languages she had learnt in school.
Time flew. As she set about cleaning the room, we talked. She told me about Singapore schools, how women as well as men, studied together, underwent compulsory military training together after university. The woman standing before me was indeed a confident, smart young woman. She apoke five languages, earned her own living and was going to marry her boyfriend after a month. When I pointed at the pool, she smiled, then told me that was the way women dressed while swimming. What I saw before me was a world, that was free. Free to live, dress, move, earn, marry even, as they wished ! By the time she was gone, I had glimpsed a world so alien to mine, it was almost like another planet.
Alone for the entire day, I had lots to think about. Within me raced mixed emotions. I was superior to her where my station in life was concerned, or was i ? Determined to find out more, I called her back.
The next day, I was up as soon as my husband had left. Actually I was so excited I had hardly slept the whole night. Having dressed in a hurry, I waited anxiously for the clock to strike ten. Five minutes before, I walked out of the room. My mouth felt dry, my hands shook as I hurried to the elevators. For the first time in my life, I was going out unaccompanied ! That too, in a foreign country. An alien, alien land. As I walked towards the doors and out of the hotel, I broke into a sweat, wondering if she would be there. Praise be to Allah, she was. Hijaab firmly in place, I walked with her towards the car I thought she had brought with her. Alas, to my horror ahe was pointing towards a small motor cycle ! Before I could refuse, she had hustled me onto the back seat, carefully arranged my hijaab around my legs and we were off.. !
I asked her anxiously, " Are you sure we won't be discovered ?" Not only would it be catastrophy for me, she would lose her job as well. "Ah, she replied, "Don't worry. I'll have you back in good time."
As we zipped thru the streets, a strange exhilaration rose within me. Eagerly I took in all that she was trying to tell me, show me. Wide eyed, I took in the sights, smells and sounds of this lovely city. The bird park was an amazing place. I watched as the fabulously colored birds flew about, sometimes at will, sometimes in obedience to commands. How free were they, how magnificent their surroundings, how loved were they ! For lunch she took me to a Macdonalds outlet, letting me stand in line and ask in broken English for a burger, fries and a coke. The best meal of my life ! Next stop was the beach. We walked together, I took her hand in mine, as we waded thru the shallows. As I walked, a strange kind of happiness bubbled through mu entire being. For this day, this moment I was Me. Not a daughter, not a wife, not one in a sea of black, but in a multihued, serene, liberated world. Just being Me. Just being.
As we rounded a rock, Maria, for that was her name, asked me to stop. Before I knew what was happening she had pulled off my hijaab ! Stunned I looked at her at first, the protests, the fury I ought to have felt dying within me, as I slowly stepped out of it. I raised my hands, then my face up to the skies. Was I alive, still ? Hadn't I died and gone to heaven ? I must have ! The spray from the sea stung my face, my black tresses flowing freely around my body, as if aping the hijaab. Time stood still. I walked, I sat, arms wrapped tightly around my knees. I stretched, even ran a bit on the sands. I picked up shells, even a starfish that had washed ashore. I waded into the waters, up to my waist. Maria just sat and watched me.
I didn't know what time my husband came to the room that night. Even he must have been surprised to see me fast asleep as early as ten, when I had been pacing the room upto twelve the previous night, exhorting that I could not sleep, after having been cooped up the entire day.
We left Singapore the next day. Maria, came to the room before I left. I slipped her a card along with my diamond ring. A marriage ring I had no use for. For it shackled me. But was a symbol of liberation for her. My ties were of compulsion, I was the caged bird. Hers were of love, and so she flew. High up into the azure skies of Singapore.
Back with a bang!
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