Again departing from Modi, Mani, and Radi, we look into another situation of interest to some of us in the Western World.
(Mother-in Law): My son did not like his dinner.
Basma: From what I saw, he did. You are the only one complaining. My husband, did you enjoy the dinner?
(The husband looked at both women and left the room without saying anything.)
(Mother-in-law): See! He is not satisfied. He will divorce you one of these days.
Basma: How can you say that? I always buy only those things he likes and you know that. You only accompany me to the shops to goad me into buying what you want. My husband gives me enough to buy what we need. If I buy something for you, that means I can’t buy something for him.
(Mother-in-law): Aha! You are saying my son is not generous; he is stingy! I will tell him that.
Basma: You will tell him what you like, true or not true. For the past two weeks you have filled his ears with your little fiction stories. Since his father died, we both have made you more than welcome; however, you say things and do things that make both of us unhappy.
(Mother-in-law): Are you saying I am no longer welcome in my son’s home?
Basma: I would never say that. I am simply pointing out, my husband’s mother, that you and I should strive together to make your son very happy.
(Mother-in-law): We will see about that. (She leaves the room without offering to help).
Later that evening…
Amal (the husband): My wife, I have ordered you not to argue with my mother. She is very upset with you.
Basma: If I do not argue, it is as if I am accepting her criticism as if it were true. She will get worse. I love her as you love her, but I do not know what to do to please her, other than admit to lies.
Amal: I am ordering you again not to argue with my mother. (He turns over and orders his wife to do the same.)
Next day…
(Mother-in-law): My son asked that you go to the home of his first cousin and retrieve money that is due today.
Later… Basma returns empty-handed.
Basma (knocks at the door): Mother-in-law, please open the door. My husband’s first cousin knew nothing about money due.
(Mother-in-law): Go away! You do not live here and are not wanted here. Go away or I will summon authorities.
Basma (knocks louder): Open up or I will tell my husband you locked me out.
(Mother-in-law): Ha! What husband? (Laughs loudly). Did you not see the message taped to the door?
Basma sees the paper taped to the door and opens it up. It is a message from her husband; it simply states, “You are divorced.”
The document is perfectly legal and the divorce is final as of her next period if she is not pregnant. Even if the husband decided to take her back, he could not do so until after she has first been with another man—which would mean another marriage and another divorce. Basma, of course, is devastated and can do nothing about it.
A few months go by, a friend visits her…
Friend: I cannot imagine how you felt when you read that little message.
Basma: My world ended. I had no alternative but to go to my father’s house. I could not go anywhere else. My mother was sympathetic, but not father. He wanted me gone; married off to anyone who would take me. He was embarrassed that my husband divorced me. If he did not take me in for awhile, I would have nowhere to go.
Friend: You must have had suitors. You are a nice person and people know it.
Basma: I had some suitors, but a quirk of some kind always stood out and disqualified them to me. I just could not take a chance on another bad marraige. Father was always livid when I turned someone down. He thought I should be happy to marry anyone who asked. Another friend told me about a gentleman in the Shi’ite area. The man offered a temporary marriage, a mutaa, to find a wife. As Sunnis, we could not do that, but the Shi’ites could. I sent a message to their local imam that I would appreciate such an opportunity. The imam interviewed me first. The man's first wife died and he wanted a companion as well as a wife.
Friend: You entered a temporary marriage?
Basma: Yes. Every detail was discussed and agreed upon for a weekly trial, including compensation after the week was up. Nothing was left untouched.
Friend: Well? What happened?
Basma: He was a very nice man, older than my first husband, but nicer and gentler. He was very considerate of me and was very proper concerning prayer times and Friday Mosque. By the third day I had no intention of leaving this man.
Friend: What did you do to convert the temporary marriage into a permanent one?
Basma: Nothing. When he awakened on the last morning, I was busy doing my chores, working on his breakfast, and making myself as cheerful as I could for him. I knew breakfast is his favorite meal and made sure he would enjoy it.
Friend: So, what else happened?
Basma: We went about our daily routines until dusk. He looked up from his reading and looked at me. I had started to mend an old shirt he liked to wear in the garden. I looked at him just for a second and went back to my mending. I thought I saw a smile start, but with the evening shadows, I was not sure.
In a little while, he took my hand and we retired for the evening. When our hands touched, he knew I was his and so did I.
Friend: You did not have to go through another marriage rite?
Basma: No. It just took mutual understanding and acceptance. If I did not walk away, the marriage solidified.
Friend: Did you ever look up or ask about your first husband?
Basma. No. I never thought of it. I guess I am just too busy being the best wife I can be to this wonderful man. When I see a lovely, robust rose, I enjoy the rose and for some reason do not think about thorns or insects. I know they are around, but they just don’t seem important.
HJS
(Mother-in Law): My son did not like his dinner.
Basma: From what I saw, he did. You are the only one complaining. My husband, did you enjoy the dinner?
(The husband looked at both women and left the room without saying anything.)
(Mother-in-law): See! He is not satisfied. He will divorce you one of these days.
Basma: How can you say that? I always buy only those things he likes and you know that. You only accompany me to the shops to goad me into buying what you want. My husband gives me enough to buy what we need. If I buy something for you, that means I can’t buy something for him.
(Mother-in-law): Aha! You are saying my son is not generous; he is stingy! I will tell him that.
Basma: You will tell him what you like, true or not true. For the past two weeks you have filled his ears with your little fiction stories. Since his father died, we both have made you more than welcome; however, you say things and do things that make both of us unhappy.
(Mother-in-law): Are you saying I am no longer welcome in my son’s home?
Basma: I would never say that. I am simply pointing out, my husband’s mother, that you and I should strive together to make your son very happy.
(Mother-in-law): We will see about that. (She leaves the room without offering to help).
Later that evening…
Amal (the husband): My wife, I have ordered you not to argue with my mother. She is very upset with you.
Basma: If I do not argue, it is as if I am accepting her criticism as if it were true. She will get worse. I love her as you love her, but I do not know what to do to please her, other than admit to lies.
Amal: I am ordering you again not to argue with my mother. (He turns over and orders his wife to do the same.)
Next day…
(Mother-in-law): My son asked that you go to the home of his first cousin and retrieve money that is due today.
Later… Basma returns empty-handed.
Basma (knocks at the door): Mother-in-law, please open the door. My husband’s first cousin knew nothing about money due.
(Mother-in-law): Go away! You do not live here and are not wanted here. Go away or I will summon authorities.
Basma (knocks louder): Open up or I will tell my husband you locked me out.
(Mother-in-law): Ha! What husband? (Laughs loudly). Did you not see the message taped to the door?
Basma sees the paper taped to the door and opens it up. It is a message from her husband; it simply states, “You are divorced.”
The document is perfectly legal and the divorce is final as of her next period if she is not pregnant. Even if the husband decided to take her back, he could not do so until after she has first been with another man—which would mean another marriage and another divorce. Basma, of course, is devastated and can do nothing about it.
A few months go by, a friend visits her…
Friend: I cannot imagine how you felt when you read that little message.
Basma: My world ended. I had no alternative but to go to my father’s house. I could not go anywhere else. My mother was sympathetic, but not father. He wanted me gone; married off to anyone who would take me. He was embarrassed that my husband divorced me. If he did not take me in for awhile, I would have nowhere to go.
Friend: You must have had suitors. You are a nice person and people know it.
Basma: I had some suitors, but a quirk of some kind always stood out and disqualified them to me. I just could not take a chance on another bad marraige. Father was always livid when I turned someone down. He thought I should be happy to marry anyone who asked. Another friend told me about a gentleman in the Shi’ite area. The man offered a temporary marriage, a mutaa, to find a wife. As Sunnis, we could not do that, but the Shi’ites could. I sent a message to their local imam that I would appreciate such an opportunity. The imam interviewed me first. The man's first wife died and he wanted a companion as well as a wife.
Friend: You entered a temporary marriage?
Basma: Yes. Every detail was discussed and agreed upon for a weekly trial, including compensation after the week was up. Nothing was left untouched.
Friend: Well? What happened?
Basma: He was a very nice man, older than my first husband, but nicer and gentler. He was very considerate of me and was very proper concerning prayer times and Friday Mosque. By the third day I had no intention of leaving this man.
Friend: What did you do to convert the temporary marriage into a permanent one?
Basma: Nothing. When he awakened on the last morning, I was busy doing my chores, working on his breakfast, and making myself as cheerful as I could for him. I knew breakfast is his favorite meal and made sure he would enjoy it.
Friend: So, what else happened?
Basma: We went about our daily routines until dusk. He looked up from his reading and looked at me. I had started to mend an old shirt he liked to wear in the garden. I looked at him just for a second and went back to my mending. I thought I saw a smile start, but with the evening shadows, I was not sure.
In a little while, he took my hand and we retired for the evening. When our hands touched, he knew I was his and so did I.
Friend: You did not have to go through another marriage rite?
Basma: No. It just took mutual understanding and acceptance. If I did not walk away, the marriage solidified.
Friend: Did you ever look up or ask about your first husband?
Basma. No. I never thought of it. I guess I am just too busy being the best wife I can be to this wonderful man. When I see a lovely, robust rose, I enjoy the rose and for some reason do not think about thorns or insects. I know they are around, but they just don’t seem important.
HJS
No comments:
Post a Comment