Unmarriageable(87)
Alys took out a pen and underlined a quote: Do you know what is wrong with you, Laila? All those books you read. You just talk like a book now, with no sense of reality.
She wondered what Darsee had thought about this line and whether he believed books led to an escape from reality or were windows into it. She recalled the animated look in his eyes when they’d discussed literature at the clinic, how he’d sought her out at the wedding to give her Sunlight, the feel of his fingers on hers, how he’d said he wanted her opinion on things. It was a truth universally acknowledged, Alys suddenly thought with a smile, that people enter our lives in order to recommend reads.
Such pleasant thoughts occupied Alys as the bus drove into the Lahore Daewoo station, where Nisar and Nona were waiting for her and Lady. They had good news and bad news. The good news was that Nona was being awarded a prestigious Indus Civilization Award for Women Who Make a Difference. Alys and Lady squealed in delight as they hugged their aunt. The bad news was that the award ceremony prevented them from visiting Pakistan’s Northern Areas.
‘I hope you’re not too disappointed,’ Nona said to Alys.
‘Of course not, given the reason,’ Alys said. Some of the other women being honoured were a commercial pilot, a police officer, a comedienne, a CEO of a multinational company, an NGO healthcare worker, a human-rights advocate, and an environmental activist. Nona’s award was for a home-based business entrepreneur, and Alys was extremely proud.
Nisar was saying they would remain in Lahore and visit heritage sites close by. Shalimar Gardens, Badshahi Mosque, Lahore Fort, Wazir Khan Mosque, Lahore Museum. He was also trying to get tickets for the Naseeruddin Shah–Ratna Pathak play at the Alhamra Art Centre.
‘Hijab’s parents,’ Lady gloated, ‘already have tickets for when the play comes to Karachi.’
‘Good for you, my dear,’ Nona said. ‘Now, remember to behave there.’
‘Goodness, Aunty Nona, you’re as boring as Aunty Alys. What are our plans for tonight?’
They went out to dinner at a new Thai restaurant, after which they picked up the latest Indian film, Dil Chahta Hai. Alys declared it excellent for its blend of a serious topic with commercial flair, though her three seminal films remained Dhool Ka Phool, Umrao Jaan, and Insaf Ka Tarazu, all judged by Lady to be much too gloomy to do anyone any good.
Overall, Alys decided that night, as she slipped into bed, she was glad she’d come to Lahore, though she wished Lady was not going to Karachi or that Jena was not sitting depressed in Dilipabad. Opening up Sunlight, Alys read a chapter on the protagonist, torn between a duty-bound life and her own desires, and gradually drifted to sleep.
The next morning, Nona and Alys dropped off a deliriously excited Lady at the airport. Once they returned home, they saw her note stating she’d ‘borrowed’ Nona’s designer sunglasses and blow-dryer but that she really, really needed them in Karachi. Together, Nona and Alys shook their heads at Lady’s audacity and wished Karachi well.
They began to plan their excursions for the next two weeks. The first week passed in relaxation and merriment. Upon Nisar’s insistence, each day was begun with a leisurely breakfast at home after which they’d visit the site of the day, enjoy dinner out, and end their evening back at home chatting over chai and a board game.
At the start of the second week, Nona had two final cake deliveries, after which, she assured Alys, she was truly all hers. Alys joined her in the kitchen to help prepare the cakes, a dark-chocolate globe and a rose-flavoured rose garden. The cakes were ready to be delivered by late afternoon. Nisar, Nona, and Alys all got into the car because, after the deliveries, they planned to go for an early dinner. Alys volunteered to go into the houses, and she delivered the globe cake to the mother of an excited birthday girl. The second house was in a very posh area of town, and Nona read from the address, ‘Get ready for this, Alys: Buckingham Palace.’
Alys chuckled. ‘Did I tell you Beena dey Bagh’s humble abode is named Versailles of Pakistan?’
They arrived at Buckingham Palace, with its towering metal gates topped with ornamental spears and boundary walls lined with shards of glass glinting like the broken bones of crystal birds. A sleepy-eyed guard opened the gate to their honking, and they proceeded up the long driveway lined with sculpted conifers alongside a vast landscaped garden. Her father would love it, Alys thought as she got out of the car.
Alys carefully balanced the cake box in her hands and made her way up marble stairs to an elaborately carved front door. She elbow-rang the doorbell. When no one answered, she tried the handle and entered an airy foyer with bright-yellow walls covered with black-and-white sketches of whirling dervishes.
‘Hello?’ Alys called out. She walked in farther, finally arriving at stained-glass double doors, and stepped into a large room. Sunlight poured in from a panelled skylight, and floor-to-ceiling windows looked out to a rock plunge pool with a waterfall. A broad-shouldered girl sat cross-legged on the marble floor with her back to the double doors. She was playing a sitar. Her music teacher, Alys presumed, sat before her, bobbing her head to the girl’s strumming. The teacher stopped when she saw Alys. The girl turned around.
‘So sorry to have barged in,’ Alys said, ‘but I’m here to deliver the rose garden cake from Nona’s Nices. I rang the doorbell several times.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ the girl said. ‘My teacher, Rani-ul-Nissa jee, and I get so engrossed in practice, we hardly hear anything else.’