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Authors: Monica Ali

Brick Lane (31 page)

BOOK: Brick Lane
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The son have been taken out of school. He wear his uniform but it not looking so smart any more. He like to take a stick and tease the goats. I think he taking eggs but I waiting to catch him. The house quieter now. Zainabs family too sad for arguing.
He comes every week. Sometime he comes twice.
February 1992
God blesses me. Another niece! I think of her. I think of Shahana. Send photo of both.
He still come to me. Only quick visit. He did used to say 'Next week I take you to my house. I need another maid.' Now he say nothing. He come only once a week and sometime not at all. If he stop visit how long before he puts me out?
I go to every garment factory in Dhaka. Nobody have machining job. This is all training I have. I think of making some things at home and trying to sell. I make whistles out from bamboo and I take outside and sit with them. Nobody wanting to buy. Hussain see and he laugh. 'Put a little sunshine in bag and sell that too.' This is how he say. I go to bazaar for cloth scraps and I make dolls. Then I go to Motijheel and sit on pavement. Police kick the box and they make threat. Hussain tell me 'Dont you know the pavement for rent? The pavement it do not belong to you. Everything for rent.'
He give me some goat milk. And he make little cabinet for me. I keep soap and comb and pen in it. His arms so flab and flop. Little wind makes them swing. But he is kind. He make me laugh. He can turn eyelids inside out and he move his ears without disturb single muscle on face. 'God blesses each one' he say. 'How He love me to give such talents.' And he say 'To you He give the gift of beauty. How He show His love in you!' For long time then I cry. In night he come to my room. I do not send away.
October 1992
Zainab have gone. Whole family gone. No word to me just disappear like that.
Everything going on same way. Hussain give me sari some ribbons and pretty box with pearl lid. His friend Ali also giving presents.
You ask to write but I cannot think what to tell. Nothing much to tell. Only God see what is in my heart.
Pray for me, sister.
September 1993
I not mean to make you frighten. Few time this last year I take my pen and sit down. Once twice I begin the letter but words do not come. Even I do not write I think of you.
After long time I start to think of factory again. I go there and I wait outside across road. I think to speak to them my friends. I see Shahnaz she come out and I pull my headscarf around face. She expect a child. It make me feel my shame. God will not give child to me. I thinking I see Aleya but one burkha looking like another. No husband come for her. Renu I have not see.
Three time I go there and watch and all time I asking self if ever there love between us and what kind of love it so easily broken. Shahnaz wearing too much cosmetics. I never did see with so much cosmetics before.
I walk around factory gates around the walls. If it possible to hate bricks I hating them. This factory have ruin me. Many families living around there now. Before the security guards come and clear up like leaves but now is all sort of tent and cardboard shack. One family living in big pipe is mean for taking water. I walk around.
I thinking this one thing all day. They put me out from factory for untrue reason and due to they put me out the reason have come now as actual truth. This is how I was thinking.
Hussain still looking out for me. He the one making sure I get the money. If he not look out anyone take what they like and not pay. Landlord no longer come. I pay rent now.
Eight ten months past Hussain stop the jute mill job. He have other girl over near Borobazaar and two other who go around for work. These he call floating girl. Government office are good for floating girl. Big hotel also good but girl must be younger. Hussain not yellow now. Now he orange like marigolds. He tell me work hard only few year left to work. Best price for girls eleven twelve. He take good care. Someone not want to pay Hussain deal with them. Arms are flab and flop but they strong.
July 1994
I have the photo of girls and I put with others. I have frame. Three photos will fill up nice and I will buy glass and put on wall. Picture do pretty up the wall.
Your husband is very good in finding jobs. What is Leisure Centre? Is it Government job?
I give you word as you ask to send more letter. Even I have nothing to tell that is what I writing and sending to you. Only thing here is rain. Seems like wetter in my room than pond. Hussain building bed for me high up on legs. Easy for working with high bed. Sometime I feel bad I sit with him. All time he joking. He say 'You got to look for good side. Everything got good side. How about we throw some rice in there get selves paddy field?' Is another talent besides ear waggling and eyelid turning.
I wake up time to time and think I back home. But is only smell of goat come bleating outside door. City smell different smell of men and cars. I like to smell the village again.
Oh there only one goat now. Other got on railway track and we eat it up. Chickens also make a feast. They stop laying.
Renu come into mind. If she still suffering still waiting. Then I think of Mumtaz and of Amma. I not daring enough to think of Abba. One time I think of his second wife how quick she come after mourning. How quick she go again. If only Amma know how quick she go. That is way with men. Why she did not know it?
March 1995
Do not be angry I have not kept word but I writing now and you must forgive.
Something too strange has happen. You cannot guess it. I have receive proposal of marriage.
He come for first time only two weeks past. Next day he return. It not so strange. But third day he come and drink tea with me and we talking only. In spite this he paying in full.
Every day he have come and just for talk. His name is Ahmed. He is tall. At least five feet and eight nine inches. And he is Albino. Because of this his skin like lassi and end of nose is toast like seed. When sun touch him it like acid in the face. Even the evenings he wearing dark glasses. From me he go to shoe factory. He is supervisor for night shift.
He is quiet man. When we talking most time he keep mouth closed. Most time we are sitting. I try to draw out. I dont want him pay in full for nothing. He turn my hand over and over like as if he never seen another hand. Jute men slap on back and call out. Eh babu are you making eyes at our sister?
But Ahmed do not bother. He is serious man. His hair the colour of silt. He have supervisor job for six year. Fifth day he take off glasses and give me fright like anything. Look like cats eyes inside head. Blue and waxy. You never see eyes like that. But is only because of the Albino. Nothing in actual fact wrong with the eye.
He bring bakul for me and hibiscus. Pretty though only one day lasting. What pity it is I cannot marry.
Give kisses to my nieces and best wish for your husband. I hoping he get better quick quick. Dhoie and also ghole is good for stomach ulcer.
March 1995
I do not know what to do. Ahmed pressing for marriage. He do not listen to anything. Hussain come and he talk to me. He say 'This man is odd like five-leg-donkey. Nature reject these things. What chance he has? You are damaged past repair. What chance you has also?' This is how he explain. And he tell me 'My liver is gone I cannot last much longer. Who will protect you if not him? I let you go. This life is finish. Begin another.'
I speak to Ahmed again. Again he is pressing. I tell him this. I am a low woman. I am nothing. I have nothing. I am all that I have. I can give you nothing.
Still he insist. I do not know what to do.
April 1995
I give thanks to God. As it is written in the suras 'Do not despair of the mercy of God for Allah forgives all sins. He is the Compassionate the Merciful.'
I am here with my husband. Not so far from Ghulshan which is best district in all of Dhaka. Three weeks now without I leave the flat. My husband go out in evening and return from shoe factory in morning. Then we have big meal and go to sleep. In afternoon we are together. Always he watching me with love. If I move he move. If I go to wash he follow. And he keeps hand on me. Like he thinking I going to vanish if he stop touching. This is kind of devotion.
When he go out in evening I begin housework. Everything have to be in good order. That only thing my husband asking. Good order. All jars and tins must keep the place. Tallest one first then next tallest next one bit shorter and so on to the smallest which is for saffron. All to be wiped each day so none is sticky. It do make everything easy to find. My husband roll his cigarettes each evening and leave on shelf and you never see such straight line. Good order of house meaning good order of mind. And he have three pairs of proper shoe and twenty-one pairs of lace. Each laces set match with only one of pair of shoes. They need keeping careful like anything.
BOOK: Brick Lane
4.22Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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