Unmarriageable(29)

‘I’ll try,’ Darsee said.

However, when it came time to leave the nikah ceremony, Bungles asked Jena if her family was planning to attend the walima ceremony in Lahore. When Jena nodded, Bungles instantly turned to Mrs Binat: he, Hammy, and Sammy were going to a charity polo match for breast cancer at the Race Course Park, and could Jena accompany them as their guest?





CHAPTER SEVEN





The next morning Sherry visited the Binats and, over chickpea chaat and chai, Lady and Qitty excitedly informed her of Jena’s invitation to the polo match. They’d been discussing, non-stop, Bungles’s failure to propose to Jena, juxtaposed with the fact that he must really like her to have invited her to the polo match, to which Mrs Binat had so readily and graciously given her permission.

‘Of course he likes Jena,’ Mrs Binat said, fishing out a spicy potato from the chaat. ‘Likes, my foot. He loves her. He’s just a shy boy, but, then, not everyone can be bold and daring the way your father was when he asked for my hand in a heartbeat.’

Mr Binat entered with one of his wife’s shoes in hand.

‘But, Pinkie,’ he said gaily, continuing a previous conversation, ‘you guaranteed this Bungles fellow would propose last night and that if he didn’t you would eat your shoe. Come on now, eat up.’

‘Oof.’ Mrs Binat pushed away the shoe her husband was thrusting at her. ‘Barkat, you really must get out more. Your attempts at humour are becoming third-class. Put down that filthy shoe. He’s taking her to the polo match in Lahore, where, I guarantee you, he will propose.’

‘Mummy,’ Jena said, ‘you led me to believe he was going propose yesterday, and I was so nervous I could barely look at him or speak to him properly. I’m going to go to the polo match with no expectations.’

‘You’ll see,’ Mrs Binat said. ‘You’ll return from the polo match with a diamond ring so big your finger will fall off.’

‘Tauba,’ Mr Binat said, helping himself to the chaat. ‘Dear God, what a thing to say.’

‘Look, Jena,’ Sherry said, pouring extra tamarind chutney into her bowl, ‘you need to steer Bungles Bhai.’

‘Steer him?’ Jena said. ‘Is he a bull?’

‘Jena, you need to do no such thing.’ Alys scowled.

‘She does.’ Sherry looked from Jena to Alys. ‘Jena, trust me. You need to drop little hints such as “I’m getting so many proposals” or “I’m scheduled for a look-see and if it works out I’ll be getting married.” You know, hints to hurry him along.’

‘Vomit, puke, ulti,’ Alys said.

‘Alys is a fool,’ Mrs Binat said. ‘Sherry, you are a girl after my own heart and know well the game of grab-it.’

‘Thank you, Khala,’ Sherry said. ‘Although if I knew how to grab it that well, wouldn’t I have grabbed a husband by now?’

Everyone observed a moment of contemplation.

‘Jena,’ Sherry said, sipping the last of her chai, ‘follow my advice and if Bungles Bhai has got any smarts, he’ll realise that you are hint-dropping, and then he’ll be in no doubt that you like him.’

‘How about I just propose to him?’ Jena said, annoyed. ‘That should clear up any confusion.’

‘In Islam,’ Mari said, looking up from the tennis match on the sports channel, ‘women can propose, since Hazrat Khadijah proposed to the Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon him.’

‘Hai!’ Mrs Binat slapped her chest lightly. ‘No one follows religious example properly in this country. If only girls from good families could propose, how easy everything would become. Instead, we have to wait until the man decides it is time.’

‘May I remind everyone,’ Alys said, squashing a chickpea with her fork, ‘that Jena and Bungles literally met a day ago. They don’t even know if they like each other, much less love.’

‘Love at first sight, followed by rest of life to sit around falling in like. That is the farmoola,’ Mrs Binat said.

‘Formula,’ Mr Binat said. ‘Form-you-la.’

‘Far-moo-la. That’s what I said.’ Mrs Binat extracted a hairpin from her bun and used the looped end as a cotton swab. She ignored her daughters’ aghast looks. ‘How long does it take to fall in love? Your father looked at me, instant love’ – she snapped her fingers – ‘and immediately he sent Tinkle to find out who I was and, the very next day, proposal.’

Mrs Binat regaled them with a detailed account of their honeymoon in Chittagong Hills and Cox’s Bazar beach in current-day Bangladesh. It had been her dream to go there, and their father had made it come true.

‘He was such a hero,’ she preened. ‘Every day, flowers, frolic, and I love you, I love you.’

‘Daddy was a lover boy,’ Lady said, her eyes shining. ‘A romantic hero.’

‘I was indeed,’ Mr Binat said bashfully, for he quite loved to hear what a hero he’d been.

‘Times have changed,’ Alys said. ‘No one gets married like that any more. Love doesn’t work like that any more, if it ever did.’

‘Love is love and will never change its nature,’ Mrs Binat said. ‘One look is all love needs. One look.’