A deathbed proposal, 64 years too late. How much can the heart remember?
To,
Mariam Jones Batterfield
53, Chinar Lane,
Srinagar, Kashmir
Maru, its me. Ayyu. Before you explode, here's two things: first, that I have had this picture of us playing ghosts since 1951, and I am finally returning it to the custody of the original ghost between us, and second, that I still can't fathom why you don't call me by my full name: Ayyub. It's just one extra letter, one extra sound out of your magnificently bad mouth. You could never bring yourself to call me Ayyub, even on formal occasions such as announcing my name at our prom or announcing my name at the graduation ceremony or announcing my name in the middle of your toast at my wedding. My bloody wedding! Nikhat still calls me Ayyu. It is such an incomplete feeling; being called Ayyu is like being remembered as a person, but only 98% of him. It is as incomplete as this house and this city and everything in between have been because you haven't been here.
Shocked, are you? Right after calling your mouth bad, I told you how life has been an incomplete series of wonderful events with Nikhat and my beautiful Nooran and Areeba. It was bound to be incomplete, Maru. And I was bound to say this to you some day. It just never occurred to me that it would take me 70 years and a cancer diagnosis to tell you all this. I really thought that I would blurt it to you on August 12, 1957. That's right, there was an exact date, and it has been etched in my mind ever since. I don't think you remember this day. I do.
I had just won the tennis competition. Abba was gleaming with pride, Ammi was planning. a party for my victory. But me? All I could think about was you, in your sea foam dress and perfect hair, dancing around me like my biggest cheerleader. I remember how I told you 20 times (yes, I counted) that you absolutely had to come that evening. Oh, what do you know Maru? I remember how I got dressed that day, wore my best blazer and my two rupee attar. I was singing and dancing with Ammi, happy in the safety of the knowledge that I would finally tell you that I found you to be the prettiest girl ever, and ask you if you would consider courting me.
And then I heard fate knocking. Ammi had a heart attack, and in seconds, my life blew apart. Did you never wonder why I made such a fuss about moving to Scotland with Abba that following year? Did you never wonder why I kept hugging you when we said goodbye? I wanted to say so much to you, but everything had changed. Ammi had gone, and Abba had gone with her. What was left of him was just bones and flesh. How I wish that those words had come out of my mouth as soon as the tennis match ended.
Years went by. We met when we were 24 again, you still as precious to me as you had been 8 years earlier. You met Matthew, your perfect Englishman. You were right, the guy was an angel. I met my darling Nikhat, and that was that.
We kept meeting, again and again. And I knew you were as in love with him as I was with my Nikhat. We had children and grandchildren and great grandchildren, and life's book kept getting fatter. The only thing that it didn't do was have a chapter where Ayyu and Maru were together.
Maru, don't get me wrong. The last 50 years with Nikhat were everything I'd never deserved. And oh, I love her with all my parts. But Maru, Mariam, you had this small corner of my heart. Always did, always will.
I am dying Maru. The doctors say it can be tomorrow, or the next week. But that's it. Nikhat will live with Nooran. But I couldn't die, not without telling you what a 16 year old shy boy wanted to say to you on that August day:
"Mariam, we had the first snowfall of the season yesterday and the wet Chinar leaves made me realise how much I like your dewy eyes on my face. I think of you, and all the calm and beauty of these red forests and mighty peaks comes to me. I know I am not your type, but would you do me the honour of courting me? I promise that I will drop you home on time and never ask to call you.
I am sorry if I have offended you or crossed a line, but I thought you should know that here's a guy who thinks you're the prettiest girl in the world and would love to take you out to tea and biscuits one day (and then everyday)"
I'll always be your Ayyu. I'll miss you Maru. Maybe someday, we will go for tea and biscuits. Give all my love to Matthew, Abraham, Sara and Rooh. Take care, eggy.
Ayyub Ahmed
St. Teresa School
Branch 2, Chinar Lane,
Srinagar, Kashmir
(The place where I saw my Maru for the first time ever is where I wanted to be to write this to her. I couldn't be, so here's a tiny redemption)
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