My Cinderella – 1/2

In late December, 2000, God sent an angel who told me “If you agree to visit Rawalpindi, then there’s a good chance that Uncle Irshad will help you marry a Pashtu-like girl.”

My ex-father knows that I got a taste for fair girls of mountainside.

My younger maternal uncle, Izhar, had suggested to me visiting his older brother with his children on the occasion of holy Eid Festival but I knew he was trying to marry me to his daughter, Khadija, 16, born in USA to get funding for his future plans to immigrate to USA.

My unintelligible ex-father had rejected his lucrative business deal.

When I went to jail on December 6, 1997, He had given me a tool to ask Him questions. I first used that tool to ask what He thought of me. He said “You’re a trustworthy guy who keeps his words.”

Now that He had not condemned me for my crime, I next asked Him THE question. “Why did You take my girl from me?”

To be honest, men don’t love God. We love women!

He said “We don’t take anything except to replace it with something better”. He promised me a Magnificent Girl.

I called her Wada (promise) because she was my promised girl.

Since I had promised my maternal Aunt Qudsia to take her on a tour of Islamabad and Murree, I asked her to join us but that freaked Uncle Izhar and he didn’t send his daughter with me.

He could have cared for his younger sister but he used to despise her for being a widow & poor.

At Station Rawalpindi, I found Uncle Irshad waiting for me with his youngest daughter, Memona.

But he never introduce us to each other.

After I had shower and some rest, he introduced his oldest daughter, Safia, to me.

Even a fool like me could understand he was offering to marry Safia to me.

Well, Safia looked good enough to me but she was not particularly interested in me.

I wicked used my tool to ask my ex-father about marrying her.

He said “She’s the best sister but she’s got a problem.”

What an ambiguous answer!

Didn’t I tell you my ex-father was unintelligible?

Saima, the middle daughter, had been following me everywhere without saying a word, confusing me.

I asked God “And what about Saima? Why does she keep following me?”

He shocked me when He said “Yes, marry her. She is The Promised Girl.”

But what about me? I thought she was a scary girl who beat children??

On the eve of Eid, we all went for shopping. I bought Eid Greeting cards for everyone but I got stuck when I found a “Greetings, Aunt” card.

I looked around and found scary, silent Saima right behind me.

I asked her whether to buy an Aunt-Greeting card or a Happy Eid card for our aunt.

She picked a card, handed it to me and ran away. Strange girl!

I looked at the card.

It said “I Love You”!

But I was wise enough not to trust a child-beating girl. It could have been a trap.

I bought that card and a simple “Eid Greeting” card for my aunt.

Better safe than sorry!

The women & girls were buying bangles. I stepped aside lest a woman bumps into me in that narrow, crowded alley and serves me a free, undeserved slap.

I was standing beside a stall in which I saw a beautiful ring and my ex-father asked me to buy it.

It was a cheap, Rs10 thing.

I cursed the shopkeeper in my heart and slipped that cheap thing in my pocket.

I knew the child-beating Saima wasn’t going to accept that ring.

When I returned home, I put that dangerously cheap ring on the refrigerator. Saima used to cook all meals so she was going to see it and pick it up — if she accepted it.

She didn’t pick it up.

Aunt Qudsia did.

She tried it on all her fingers but it fit none. She gave it to my Uncle’s wife but it fit none of her fingers, either.

Nusrat, landlord’s daughter was there. She also tried but failed. That intrigued her.

She was witty and realized it was a special ring.

She took it upstairs and showed it to her visiting sister, Nuzhat. It was too small for her fingers so she gave it to her 13-year old daughter but it didn’t fit any of her fingers, either.

This story continues .here.. Thanks.