Unmarriageable(25)
‘As for Fahad Bingla, he has chosen Jena.’ Mrs Binat beamed. ‘And mark my words, by tomorrow, inshallah, she will be engaged to him. We’ll throw a fancy func—’
‘Pinkie,’ Mr Binat said. ‘Can you please wait until this Bungles fellow proposes before planning functions.’
‘You proposed to me at first sight,’ Mrs Binat said with quiet pride. She had lucked out on looks alone, and it was the defining moment of her life.
‘That was a different era,’ Mr Binat said. But he smiled blissfully, for he was forever tickled at having pulled off a love-at-first-sight marriage in a time where arranged marriage was the norm.
‘You watch,’ Mrs Binat said, with a knowing nod. ‘Fahad “Bungles” Bingla will propose to Jena tomorrow during the nikah ceremony. I am certain of it – otherwise, I promise you, I will eat my shoe.’
CHAPTER SIX
The next day dawned sunny but cold. Mr Binat decided that he needed to recover from the previous night’s stimulations and was not going to attend the nikah. Mrs Binat did not argue, for if she allowed him to miss this, then he would have to agree to attend the final ceremony, the walima, in Lahore. Mr Binat, oblivious to his wife’s calculations, happily went into the garden to inspect his spider plants, his fingers tenderly smoothing the variegated, long leaves as he wiped them free of debris.
The Binat girls spent the morning beautifying themselves in the courtyard. Mrs Binat was very strict when it came to beauty regimens and only allowed home-made products. She’d risen early and whipped up face masks of rosewater and ground chickpeas for Jena, Alys, and Lady, who had oily skin, and for Mari and Qitty, who had dry skin, she added a drop of almond oil into the mixture.
Mrs Binat sat her daughters before her and vigorously massaged their hair with organic cold-pressed mustard oil, on which she’d spent a pretty penny. Jena wordlessly took the special hand mask made for her from oatmeal and lemon juice, which would soften her hands since, her mother insisted, they were going to be the focal point tonight on account of the soon-to-be-acquired engagement ring. The waxing woman arrived and duly waxed each girl, gossiping the whole time, whether they cared for it or not. Tailor Shawkat arrived in case their outfits required last-minute alterations.
Mrs Binat’s choices for the girls’ attire this evening were long flowy chiffon anarkalis with mukesh- and zari-embroidered bodice and hem, matching dupattas paired with matching silk thang pyjamas and jewellery courtesy of Ganju jee, and topped with expensive shawls. Mrs Binat wanted Jena to once again stand out as the epitome of purity and had picked for her white chiffon – paired, however, with a real diamond set. Hillima was handed the five outfits to iron and, because she wanted the girls to dazzle, she diligently pressed out each wrinkle.
After she was done, Hillima laid out each girl’s outfit on her bed. Jena was finishing up her prayers, and after folding the prayer rug, she thanked Hillima. She was terrified, she said. She should be, Hillima replied; grabbing a man was much harder than it sounded, but all their combined prayers should deliver positive results, and, reciting a quick prayer, she blew it over Jena.
Closer to mid afternoon, as the girls began to bathe, Mr Binat scrubbed the soil off his hands and prepared to drive his daughters to Susan’s Beauty Parlour for their hair appointments. Although Mrs Binat had been willing to spend money on a driver’s salary, she’d ultimately decided against the hire, because having Mr Binat drive the girls around was one of the few ways she could compel him to leave the house. Alys was the only one not going to Susan’s for a blow-dry. Anyway, Alys seldom went to Susan’s for anything. In fact, Mrs Binat was quite sure that her silly daughter would discard the teal chiffon she’d picked for her and instead choose something dowdy. Clothes were women’s weapons, Mrs Binat often told Alys, but God forbid that girl heeded her words. And so Mrs Binat was enormously surprised and delighted when she saw Alys take an interest in her appearance for the first time in a long time and hand Hillima the teal chiffon to iron.
Alys found herself slipping into her mother’s chosen outfit, jewellery, and black pashmina, one of ten in various colours Mrs Binat always thanked God she’d had the foresight to purchase when she’d had money to spend on pure pashminas and shahtooshes.
Alys sat before her dressing table and applied liquid cat-eye liner on her upper lids, a nice flick of mascara, and painted her lips with a red pencil that deepened her tan. Unlike her sisters, who were getting their long hair blow-dried into the desirable waves or straightened, Alys rubbed lavender-scented gel though her hair and finger-dried her tight curls. Lady, returning from the parlour in big hair, took one look at Alys and whistled, a compliment she usually reserved for Jena, who was looking ethereal in her white chiffon ensemble and diamonds.
Come evening, Alys drove them through a thick fog to the gymkhana. Since Mr Binat and Sherry were not going – the potbellied suitor was scheduled for a look-see that evening – there was plenty of space in the car, which automatically quelled a few spats between Lady and Qitty. Also, the sisters had tacitly agreed to get along tonight on account of it being the night one of them was finally going to get engaged.
At the gymkhana, a red carpet led the Binats to the main entrance, where Mr and Mrs Fecker welcomed guests into the great hall. The hall was festooned with curtains of golden gauze and marigolds galore, and illuminated by bright yellow lighting. Round tables were topped with pleated cream cloths and crystal and yellow rose centrepieces. A perk of the Binats’ punctuality was being able to choose a good table, and Mrs Binat headed for one close to the wedding stage, where the nuptials would take place. Once her daughters were seated, she caressed Jena’s cheek and declared that it wouldn’t be long now and she was sure it would be a big and sparkling solitaire.