But hardly had a year passed when I began to notice a change in Saeed’s demeanour. Though there hadn’t been even a hint of discord or unpleasantness between us, Saeed just wasn’t the same any longer. The one who had been unwilling to part with me for even a moment now stayed away for nights on end. There was no eagerness in his eyes, no yearning in his manner, and no warmth in his behaviour.
I cried bitterly over his indifference for many days. The memories of our lost love would torment me. I had heard that love was everlasting. Had that eternal spring dried up so soon? Alas, no! It was still gushing, but it flowed in a different direction now. It was nurturing another garden. In due course I too began avoiding Saeed. Not for the lack of feeling, but because I could no longer bear to look at him. The moment I would set my eyes on him, memories of the thousand miracles of love would flash before me and my eyes would well up. I still felt attracted towards him. At times I would be overcome with a desire to fall at his feet and plead, ‘My dearest, why this coldness, this cruelty? What wrong have I committed?’ A curse on this ego, it stood like a wall between us.
Gradually, the love in my heart changed into longing. The patience of a defeated soul became the succour for my aching heart. For me, Saeed was a forgotten melody of the spring that was over. The pain in my heart soothed and the flame of love extinguished. Not only this, I lost respect for him as well. At no cost would I suffer and pine for one who dirties the waters of the sacred temple of love.
One evening, as I lay reading a novel in my room, a beautiful woman entered. It seemed as if the room was aglow, shining with the brightness of her beauty, as if it had just been whitewashed. Her perfect refinement, her heart-warming elegance, her mesmerizing charm! How could I praise her? I was overawed to an extent that all my own claims to beauty were reduced to ashes. I was wonderstruck. Who could this lovely woman be and why was she here? As I was about to rise involuntarily to greet her, Saeed entered the room, smiling. I immediately understood that this beautiful woman was his sweetheart. My pride got the better of me and I did get up, but with my head erect and stiff. The admiration in my eyes had been replaced with scorn. To me, she was no longer the Goddess of beauty, but a poisonous snake. I sat down on the bed again, opened my book. She stood for a while, looking at my photos, then left the room. She cast a look at me before leaving. Her glance was like a shower of sparks, and the fire of murderous revenge seemed to burn in her eyes. The question which cropped up in my mind was: Why did Saeed bring her here? Did he want to smash my pride?3
Though the property was in my name, it was just a farce as Saeed was still in full control. The servants regarded him their master and would often behave insolently with me. I was passing my days with patience and forbearance. Why suffer when there are no desires left in the heart?
It was the rainy month of Saavan, a light drizzle was falling from the clouds above. The garden bore the darkness of longing, and the light of the glow-worms shining on the black-cloaked trees seemed to represent the burning embers of sorrowing souls. I gazed at this display of yearning for very long. The glow-worms would light up and turn off in unison, creating floods of light. I too felt the urge to sing on the swings. The weather can wield magic on despairing hearts. There was a summer house in the garden. I had a swing installed to the hook on the roof of the veranda and began to swing in it. I realized only today that yearning has its own spiritual delight which is unknown to fulfilled hearts. My overflowing mood made me burst out into a love song. The rainy season is symbolic of separation and sorrow. The song spoke of the agony of a pining heart so evocatively that my eyes began to well up with tears. Just then, I saw the flicker of a lantern outside. It was Saeed’s servant, entering through the back door. Following him was the same beauty, accompanied by Saeed. The beauty came up to me and said, ‘Today, there will be a joyous celebration here, where wine will flow.’ ‘Congratulations!’ I replied with contempt.
The beautiful woman said, ‘The musicians will be there. The tunes of bara maasa and malhar will soar in the skies.’
‘By all means,’ I replied. She said, ‘Jealousy will rip your breast open.’ Saeed told me, ‘Zubaida, go to your room. She is not in control of her senses at present.’
The beauty glared at me, her eyes bloodshot. ‘I don’t even regard you as the dust of my feet.’ I could take it no longer and retorted, ‘And what do I consider you to be? A bitch that goes around licking chewed bones?’
Saeed, too, changed his tune now. He gave me a murderous look and said, ‘Zubaida, has the devil possessed you?’
Saeed’s words pierced my heart. They tormented me. The lips that always spoke to me of love and affection were now spewing venom for no fault of mine. Have I become so low and worthless that even a whore can tease and abuse me and I’m forbidden to retaliate? All the anger that had been accumulating in my heart for the past year suddenly erupted. I got off the swing, and, eying Saeed accusingly, spoke, ‘The devil! Has he gotten into
