The plane touched down in Canada after four weeks in Pakistan. I looked out the window and saw the familiar grounds. It was January 1991 and patches of snow covered the highways and fields as we approached the airport. I was happy to return, especially after my Khala made up for all the nonsense I endured. Go home and marry. Her command was heartfelt. It rang in my ears the whole trip home and my heart skipped a beat when I thought about seeing him again. The man in the tweed jacket. And all I knew was that he liked tweed...
Two days after we arrived, she called. My mother-in-law was talking a mile a minute. I could barely keep up with her but when she jokingly asked if I was betrothed to another person while on the trip, a twinge of guilt shot through me. We are going there to meet my mother's family. Not seek out someone for marriage... The words rang out loud and clear. I needed to erase them out of my thoughts quickly before I blurted anything out. She wanted us to come and see them. I heard the excitement in her voice and ...it scared me. It was going to happen and even though I was apprehensive, I tingled with a mixture of fear and excitement.
"What do you want me to tell them?" my father asked me in the doorway of bedroom while I was unpacking and hanging my clothes in the closet.
"Do you really need to ask, Dad? I told you my answer BEFORE we left for Pakistan," I retorted. He stood there in silence, just staring at me. I continued my unpacking, fully aware of the insolence in my tone. I was still angry about his attempts to thwart my Canadian plans.
"I thought you were not sure." He walked away without me having a chance to answer.
To be sure. That was the question.
Unlike my father, I never planned out my life. Life for me was about spontaneity. I would jump into everything without thinking. So in this situation, it was no different. Life was beyond my control and I had to let the pieces fall as they may. And no matter how frightening it was, it felt right. Its hard to explain...perhaps it needs no explanation since it lacks reason or any scientific theory. The formula did not add up--but who says there needed to be one? History proved that when I tried to reason, control or apply logic, the events backfired.
I needed to take that leap of faith.
We went to visit them the following weekend. Our customary family room soiree was disrupted with my father and his parents asking for our presence in the living room. Our siblings were excluded however they smiled knowingly. I sat next to my father and he between his mother and father. I looked down at my feet, my heart pounding wildly in my ears.
"After much thought, my daughter has given consent to marry your son," my father announced. I kept my eyes lowered. My second toe is larger than my big toe, I thought. Folklore dictated that a person with a larger second toe would be very lucky in life. Was it luck, coincidence or fate that landed me in this living room, agreeing to marry a complete stranger? I tried to flip my second toe over my big toe. Yes, I was not paying attention. My way of deflecting the reality of what was going on. When I looked up, my husband was sheepishly smiling at me. I feigned a smile and scratched my nose. Agh, not classy! Was I supposed to stand up and shake hands with him? Give him a high five? Ask to be excused with him so we could talk shop? My father got up and hugged him and my father-in-law. My mother-in-law got up and hugged me hard, whispering in my ear, "Welcome to our family."
The deed was done and I felt ...neutral. I thought I would feel on top of the world. Bursting at the seams, celebrating in the streets. Instead, I felt nothing! For a second, I despaired. Was this normal? What was normal in this traditional role? This was not the way I wanted to feel.
We stood in their kitchen as his mother passed us the plates and glasses.
We both walked into the dining room and set the table. I set the place settings. His hands shook while he poured water into the glasses. I pretended not to notice. I thought it was endearing. He looked up at me and smiled. And I brushed away my hopelessness.
Although we did not speak one word, it was the first thing we did together.
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