It was undoubtedly a faint shadow, hiding behind multitude of beautiful faces. The house teeming with jovial young girls belonged to my friend Farzana, a very beautiful girl with fair complexion and exquisite features.

When I had seen her, first time, in Farzana’s house, I could not take my eyes away from her dark complexion that was shining in the heat, typical Muslim features with obviously prominent nose line.

We were four girls who could not find place in a girls’ school, so we came to this school to study with the boys. We were in the Ninth Standard. Three of us were the daughters of the officers who had been transferred to that small town. Namita’s father was the SDM of the district, Neeraja’s father was an Executive Engineer in the Electricity Board, and my mother was the Principal of a girls’ school and my father was B.D.O.

Though Farzana’s father was a very famous criminal lawyer, he was very conservative and stern when it came to following Muslim social customs. It must have been very difficult for Farzana to come to that school, without wearing her burka. Two of her elder sisters were the students of my mother’s school and they came to school in their burkas. I don’t know how Farzana had persuaded her father to allow her to her new school to study science with the boys. In her house her mother had no say.

Since her house was near that new school, we often visited her house and met the other members of her family. Farzana had three elder sisters. Her eldest sister was already married. I thought that Farzana was extremely beautiful but when I saw her younger sister, Shazia, I could not control myself, “Farzana, oh my god, she is so beautiful! How many other beautiful sisters do you have?”

Shazia did not like going to school and she had dropped out after Fifth Standard. For all that, her beauty surpassed all that she did not possess. One could not take one’s eyes away from her face. She was graceful in every respect. Her two younger sisters were Vasima and Gul. Gul was still in the lap of her mother. Her father was a very handsome man and mother was equally beautiful. Her two younger brothers, Suhail and Tufail, were fair and cute.

During our lunch time at school, we would mostly go to Farzana’s house and enjoy the delicacies prepared by auntie, Farzana’s mother. The house was like an ancient bungalow, quite spacious and airy. Nameeta and I did not mind eating mutton in her house but Neeraja was from a Brahmin family and she did not join in our non-veg adventures in Farzana’s house. I must mention here that now my friend Neeraja is in London, and I am sure that she must be enjoying hamburgers there.

The intimacy with the members of Farzana’s family was growing with every passing day. One day, Anjum, Farzana’s sister, got engaged and her marriage was fixed. The ambiance in the house suddenly changed: dresses began to be ordered, embroidery work started, and songs were sung every evening, delicious dishes were cooked. A kind of festival had started.

Farzana was not happy because her studies were being hampered; she wanted to be a doctor; in that noisy atmosphere she was unable to concentrate on her studies. She did not like all that but I liked it very much. I was enjoying every moment of those festivities. Farzana’s house was not far from our house and then Anjum was the student of my mother. I was invited to almost every ritual and I enjoyed those days very much. Farzana’s sister Shazia was quite close to me and both of us danced to the tunes of the songs which were sung or played in the house. I could see that Farzana did not like it.

One day, when the house was bursting with laughter and songs, I went to the kitchen to drink water. There I was a tall biscuit-complexioned girl. She was putting sweets in plates. When she saw me she said, “Come in, Manisha.”

“Do you know me?”

“Yes, of course, you come here almost every day,” said she.

“And…you?” said I with amazement.

“I am Farzana’s elder sister,” said she with a smile.

I noticed that she had familiar features.

I informed her that I was thirsty and she immediately gave me a glass of water.

………………………

I tried to remember but I could not bring her face to my mind because all other sisters had fair complexion.

I said to Farzana, “You never told us about your elder sister.”

“Yes, she is older than Anjum. Her name is Firdaus. She is my step-mother’s daughter. She used to live somewhere else but when her mother died, she came to live with us.”

“Is she married?” said I.

“No one has brought any proposal for her,” said Farzana.

“She is not ugly; she had beautiful features, long hair, good height and good manners. She only lacks your fair complexion. Why doesn’t your father find a husband for her?” said I.

“In our culture marriage is arranged only when a proposal comes from a boy,” said Farzana.

“If no one brings proposal, she will remain unmarried forever?” said I a bit angrily.

“My parents are waiting,” said Farzana.

………………………..

While other members of the family were feasting and rejoicing, that dark girl was busy doing household chores. She would hide herself behind curtains and peep through them to see the rites and rituals. She was not actively involved in anything. Like a servant, she obeyed every order given by Farzana’s mother.

Years passed and things changed rapidly. Farzana’s elder sisters got married one by one. Farzana could not become a doctor. I was never serious about anything. Neeraja had succeeded and she had gone to a medical college for her further studies. Farzana and I passed B.Sc. together. After our final results, she was engaged to a doctor. Once again the festivities began and the house was filled with relatives and well-wishers. I spent most of my time with Farzana in her house.

One afternoon she said to me, “They have come to know about Firdaus.”

“What?” I was confused.

“Leave it,” said she.

“Tell me, what happened to Firdaus?” said I eagerly.

“Do you see that small house?” said she while pointing to a house through the window in her room.

“Yes, what is there?”

“That house belongs to a teacher, Mr. Gaffar. He has a nephew named Aslam. We did not know but Firdaus and Aslam came close to each other,” said she.

“So…what happened?”

“One day, Aslam came to our house. He wanted to marry Firdaus and he brought his proposal. My father did not accept that proposal because he thinks that Aslam belongs to a lower caste. They scolded Aslam and sent him out of the house. After his departure, my mother and grandmother let their anger loose on poor Firdaus. She works day and night but never utters a single word of protest,” said Farzana.

“Is Aslam not fit for Firdaus?” said I.

“No, he is a gentleman but he is a widower. Now our Firdaus is also past thirty,” said Farzana.

“So what? When she likes him, why should they object?” I was really furious.

“My parents don’t listen to anyone,” said Farzana with disappointment.

“Then why don’t you do something?” I tried to persuade her.

“What can I do?”

“You fought with your father over the issue of your higher studies. You went to a boys’ school. Now you must help your sister Firdaus,” said I, thinking that I would be able to make her understand.

“Yes, you are right. I must do something.”

“She is an unfortunate woman and you can do at least this much for her,” said I in a very sympathetic tone.

“Yes, Manisha, you are right. She used to get up so early in the morning to prepare tea for me during my exams. She has never refused me anything. She does everything from her heart. My elder sisters have gone to their husbands’ houses and I am the eldest. I think, my parents will listen to me,” said Farzana very thoughtfully.

I bit assured; I came back to my house. I don’t know how Farzana fought her elder sister’s case but when I received the invitation card, I was ecstatic.

The card showed:

Farzana weds Vasim
And
Firdaus weds Aslam.

The festivities began once again and I took part in everything because I was the only friend in the town who Farzana could confide in. Firdaus was also very happy.

………………

I could not meet Farzana after that because she had gone to Dubai with her husband.

After my marriage, I met Firdaus once. I was in my mother’s office. My mother had become Deputy Director of Education.

When I saw Firdaus in the office, I was surprised.

“Manisha…” said she with a broad smile.

“Sister… you…here?”

“Yes, I have come here to talk to auntie about my transfer,” said she.

“Whose transfer?”

“My transfer.”

“You?” I was quite surprised.

“Yes, I am a teacher at girls’ school. Now there is promotion and I don’t want to go anywhere else,” said she with confidence.

“When did you study?”

“Farzana had guided me and I passed Intermediate privately. After my marriage I completed my B. Ed. through correspondence course. Now I am a teacher,” she smiled.

I was trying to find that faint shadow, that dark girl, that shy girl who would rarely come out of the kitchen of the house. I felt tears in my eyes but those were the tears of joy.