Unmarriageable(39)

Hammy flopped back onto the loveseat, and it was clear to Alys that she had no intention of leaving Bungles alone. Alys dragged a chair close to Jena. Darsee offered to help, but Alys said she could manage by herself, thank you. Curling up in the chair, she took out several books from her bag.

‘I see you read more than Reader’s Digest and Good Housekeeping,’ Darsee said. ‘My mother read books one after the other, as if they were crisps.’

‘Alys reads like that,’ Jena said, as she took the water Bungles insisted she drink.

‘I love to read, Valentine.’ Hammy rose to hover between Darsee and Alys. ‘I’m the world’s biggest bookworm!’

Alys began to separate the books into two groups. Darsee glanced at the titles.

‘For class?’ he asked.

‘Analogous Literatures. I’m pairing Rokeya Sakhawat Hossain’s Sultana’s Dream with Charlotte Perkins Gilman’s Herland for utopias. Khushwant Singh’s Train to Pakistan with John Steinbeck’s The Grapes of Wrath for family stories alternating with socio-pastoral chapters. Gloria Naylor’s The Women of Brewster Place with Krishan Chander’s short story ‘Mahalaxmi Ka Pul’, comparing women’s lives. And E. M. Forster’s A Passage to India with Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mockingbird for similar racial issues and court cases.’

‘I’ve read Wrath and Mockingbird,’ Darsee said. He skimmed A Passage to India. ‘I haven’t read much local literature, not that Passage is local per se, though it’s up for debate whether it’s the nationality of the author or the geography of the book that determines its place in a country’s canon.’

‘Val’ – Hammy gave him her most dazzling smile – ‘have you read Love Story? It’s really short and belongs everywhere, for love knows no boundaries.’ She sighed theatrically. ‘Love transcends country and geography.’

Alys and Darsee both gave Hammy equally amused glances.

‘I believe,’ Alys said to Darsee, ‘a book and an author can belong to more than one country or culture. English came with the colonisers, but its literature is part of our heritage too, as is pre-partition writing.’

Darsee said, ‘My favourite partition novel is Attia Hosain’s Sunlight on a Broken Column. Have you read it, Alys?’

Alys shook her head.

‘That book made me believe I could have a Pakistani identity inclusive of an English-speaking tongue. We’ve been forced to seek ourselves in the literature of others for too long.’

Alys nodded, adding, ‘But reading widely can lead to an appreciation of the universalities across cultures.’

‘Sure,’ Darsee said. ‘But it shouldn’t just be a one-sided appreciation.’

‘I know what you mean,’ Alys said. ‘Ginger ale and apple pie have become second nature to us here, while our culture is viewed as exotic.’

‘Precisely,’ Darsee said. ‘At the wedding, you talked of a Pakistani Jane Austen. But will we ever hear the English or Americans talk of an equivalent?’

‘Let’s hope so,’ Alys said.

‘You teach Austen, right?’ Darsee said. ‘My mother adored Darcy.’

‘Oh my God, babes, I love Mr Darcy,’ Hammy squealed. ‘Especially the part with his wet shirt. I could read that scene all day.’

Alys’s and Darsee’s eyes met.

‘Darcy is overrated,’ Alys said. ‘Mr Knightley from Emma won my heart when he defended Miss Bates from Emma’s mockery.’

‘I see.’ Darsee pointed to a bookmarked book. ‘What are you reading?’

‘Virginia Woolf’s To the Lighthouse.’

‘According to my mother, Woolf captured the essence of time plus memory.’

‘She does,’ Alys said. ‘I discovered her in the British Council library. She has an essay on Jane Austen.’

‘You mean Shakespeare in A Room of One’s Own?’ Darsee said.

His supercilious tone cut Alys. Instantly, she recalled that she wasn’t talking to a fellow bibliophile but to Valentine Darsee.

‘Just because,’ she said sharply, ‘you are ignorant about something does not mean that I’m wrong.’

Darsee looked at Alys. He stood up. They were leaving. Yes, Bungles, right now! As Hammy and a reluctant Bungles followed him out, Darsee resolved not to say a single word to Alys the next day. In fact, he wouldn’t show up.

The next morning, Bungles arrived alone, and despite his pleas that she needed to stay on, Jena was adamant that she was absolutely fine. Would Bungles please drop them to their uncle’s house?



Mrs Binat was devastated when Alys and Jena returned home without an engagement ring. Mr Binat was delighted his daughters were back. He, Nona, and Nisar were longing to talk about something other than who had dressed like a complete clown at NadirFiede, who like a partial clown, and how massive a ring Jena should expect from Bungles.

‘Jena, Alys!’ Mrs Binat said. ‘You barely gave Bungles a chance to propose. Nona, have you seen any more dim-witted girls than these two? Instead of practising grab-it, they are mastering push-it-away. Even the likes of Benazir Bhutto and Lady Dayna did not push it away.’

Nona, knowing it was no use refuting Pinkie Binat when she was in this mood, did not answer.