Courage to Say No Read online

  “You must let me help you.” His smile was warm and ingratiating. “I can drop you anywhere you’d like. I realize you are a courageous person, but it’s not good for you to stand here too long.” He motioned toward his car with his long slender fingers.

  I told him I did not want to get into a strange man’s car.

  “I am not a stranger. My name is Erfun.”

  I glanced up and down the street again. He stood there smiling at me, wanting to help. Did I dare trust a stranger like this? He moved slowly toward his car.

  “Please, let me drop you.” He opened the passenger door. His white car appeared clean and new, and he was so convincing. “Where do you live?”

  I told him. He said that was not far. He would be glad to drop me. He was right. I could not stand on the street and wait until it was dark. What would I do then with no taxis or buses? He looked trustworthy.

  “Remember! I am fearless, so don’t ever think—”

  He cut me off with a laugh. “Yes, I know, don’t worry.”

  I gathered myself and stepped into his car. He closed the door. His car smelled of sweet tobacco and flowery perfume.”

  “Is it Azzaro?”

  “Yes, how did you know?”

  “It’s my brother Rahat’s favorite.”

  “And what does Rahat do?”

  “He will be going to the Royal Naval College in the UK very soon,” I said proudly.

  “That’s impressive.”

  He began to drive, a broad smile on his face as if he had indeed lucked out at something great. He was a young entrepreneur, he told me, with several businesses in the old area of Karachi and the countryside.

  “What class are you in?”

  “I just finished my studies.”

  “So you are like me,” he said jovially.

  “Like you? In what way?”

  “I’m not interested in studies, so I dropped out of school.”

  “I didn’t mean that. I am a doctor.”

  He turned and stared for a moment, then pulled the car to the side of the road and stared some more. “A doctor.”

  “Tomorrow I begin working at Abbasi Shaheed Hospital to complete my residency in pediatrics.”

  “I can’t believe it. You are so young and innocent. I thought you were a school girl.”

  I laughed.

  “How old are you?”

  “This October, I will turn twenty-four.”

  “I will be twenty-four this December.”

  Now I was surprised. “You look much older.”

  “How is this? I look older than my age, and you look younger than your age.” We both laughed, and soon we were talking back and forth as if we had known each other for a long time.

  I surprised myself, as I found that I enjoyed talking with Erfun. During that conversation, Mother’s admonitions to not trust strangers went out the window. He wanted to know all about my new job. He was very excited that I was a medical doctor. I did not think about it then, but later I realized that this was the very first time I had felt comfortable talking with a man about my private life, my goals, my career, and such.

  That day, I had worn a simple beige cotton dress and high heels. He looked me over, “Your dress is very elegant and fashionable. Do you always dress like that?”

  “Of course.”

  “The color suits you. Is this your favorite color?”

  “No, red is my favorite.”

  “This is my favorite color,” he said, pointing to my dress. “Your hair is still long and black.” It had not faded through all of my hard studies. “You like your hair down?”

  “I always wear it down like this. I like to be simple like my mother.” Also, I can’t use hairpins or clips; they all fall out my hair is too straight.

  He wanted to know all about me, my personal and professional life. Which department in the hospital I would be working in. What I would be doing. What I enjoyed doing on my days off.

  “There is no ring on your finger? So, you’re not engaged?”

  “Nope,” I said.

  “What about your boyfriend?”

  I shook my head.

  Now he seemed genuinely surprised that I did not have a boyfriend.

  “What are your plans after your residency?”

  I had big plans. I wanted to travel to the United States to complete some postdoctoral study in my specialty. My uncles had always told me that the best way to become a top physician was to learn the latest techniques and medical theories from the best teachers. I did not think it strange at all that I would want to travel and learn. I told him I preferred to study in New York because the United Nations is there. When I detailed my plans, he seemed surprised again by my ambitions.

  As Erfun dropped me at my house, I had to admit, he was handsome, well dressed, and appeared to take care of himself. He was polite and respectful, two qualities that were very important to me. But he was not educated. Even then, I came away with a good impression of him. I left his car with a fresh glow of enjoyment. I had never talked so freely with a stranger before, and it felt refreshing to be open and engaging. I did not think the conversation would lead to anything more, but I did enjoy it.

  I had only been working in the pediatric ward a few days when one of the nurses came to me and said a man was here to see me. Who could that be? Only my parents and family knew I was here.

  In the hospital lobby, I found Erfun with a wide grin, holding a basket. He handed it to me. “Food for you.” He had packed a lunch of roasted chicken, fruit, and some bottled water.

  “Why have you come here?” I asked. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you, but you shouldn’t come here to the ward.”

  “My house is very close. I thought maybe you didn’t get a chance to have lunch, so I brought this to you.”

  “That is very nice of you.” I hesitated to take it from his hand. His attention flattered me, but I did not know this man. But I could not stand in the lobby forever arguing with myself in front of him. However, caution won out. “I’m sorry, but I can’t take it. Besides, I have just eaten. But thank you anyway.”

  Erfun was not a man who was easily dissuaded, “Please, Raana, take the food. If you do not take it, then I will leave it for the nurses.”

  His determination was attractive. He had a natural way about him, as if life was not difficult for him. He was used to getting what he wanted. His handsome features, nice clothes, expensive perfume, and warm dark eyes were hard to turn away from. But I had plans to travel to the United States to continue learning in my field, and I knew Pakistani men. I knew what they expected of their wives.

  “I must return to work, but if you want to leave it for the nurses, I’m sure they will be very pleased.” I thanked him for his kindness and returned to my ward.

  Later the nurses were all in a twitter, talking about the handsome man who left such lovely food for them. Every day that week, he appeared around noon and left delicious food. On one day, I ate one of his sandwiches. After a week of making daily lunch trips, Erfun began telling the nursing staff that he was my fiancé.

  I did not think this man would give up easily, but this was beyond reasonable. He was not my fiancé. I had had nothing more than a few conversations with him. His daily visits, along with telling the nurses that he was my fiancé, went on for about a month. Soon the doctors and nurses began to wonder why I seemed to be avoiding him since he was my fiancé. I told them that the man imagined things: he was not my fiancé.

  I was surprised that he had found a way to enter the wards after visiting hours. Later I discovered he was distributing gifts and money to the gatekeepers and staff.

  Erfun refused to be ignored. He chased me everywhere I went. We talked on several occasions. Once he asked me why I ignored him if I didn’t have any friends. I asked him how he knew I did not have any friends.

  “I have thoroughly investigated you. Many of the doctors are after you, but you do not have any interest in them. I know that for sure.”
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br />   “That doesn’t mean I will start liking you, or that we will become friends.”

  Nothing I said dissuaded him. He continued to bring food and treats to the hospital.

  One day, he finally declared his intentions. “I want to marry you.”

  Again, I told him of my plans to travel to the United States. After that, I did not have any idea where my medical training would take me. The last thing I wanted to do was to be pushed by marriage into an unfulfilling life.

  I always imagined that I would have a marriage like my parents, one of equals. They supported each other in ways that spoke of love and acceptance and equality. Even though Mother didn’t finish her education in order to marry Father, after they were married, he supported her so she could complete college, and then earn her master’s degree. And when Father wanted to open a new practice, Mother sold her wedding jewels to finance his ambition. My entire life, I had observed that they walked side by side, respectful, loving, and kind to one another. That’s what I wanted.

  Every time I saw Erfun, he told me how much he loved me. I repeatedly asked him not to come to the hospital, that he was causing a scene by saying he was my fiancé. I tried to dissuade him from visiting anymore by warning him that Professor Dr. Akbani did not like his presence in the ward. But he just ignored what I said.

  He then once again reiterated that he wanted to marry me. I asked how he could enter into marriage so quickly. He replied, “Money.”

  That reply bothered me, but after a while, I learned that he meant that he had the resources to pursue me until I relented. I had to put a stop to his pestering me, and it was evident that he would never accept a no from me. Finally, I said if he was serious about marriage that he would have to speak to my father. I knew my father would never agree to our marriage because we were from different castes. Erfun had little education, nothing beyond secondary school. I had my medical degree, and soon I would be on my way to performing postdoctoral work. I knew Father would not be pleased with Erfun’s proposal. If I could not dissuade him, then Father could. Father was the most persuasive man I knew.

  When Erfun visited my home, Father turned him down. Father told me that Erfun fell on his knees and begged, but Father stood his ground. Later when we talked, Father asked me if I knew that Erfun was a Muhajir. I said, yes, I knew. He must have said that to remind me that our family was Punjabi, and it was the tradition in most Pakistani families to marry spouses from the same caste. But that wasn’t the reason I had rejected Erfun.

  After his conversation with Father, Erfun came to me one day after I left work. I could tell that he was upset. He waited for me on the sidewalk by the bus stop where I had first met him. He was dressed in black jeans and a blood red T-shirt; he looked athletic and handsome. But his eyes were troubled and brooding, as if he were contemplating dark things. It was evident he was not used to being denied what he most wanted.

  “You know I love you and want to marry you. But your father rejected me.”

  “Yes, I know what he told you.”

  His eyes grew darker; then his face turned up, a proud grin on his mouth. “If you don’t marry me, I have friends in the MQM who will kidnap you.”

  Formed as a backlash against the ethnic exclusion of the Muhajir from Pakistani government and society, the MQM (a political party) had many followers who had turned violent, running roughshod over entire neighborhoods in Karachi—beating, stealing, extorting, and even kidnapping the innocent and their enemies indiscriminately. They aimed to have a greater say in the government. Instead, the MQM had become a gang of thugs who used brutal tactics to intimidate their adversaries. Many people considered them terrorists.

  I was shocked that a man would use MQM intimidation tactics against me. How could I love such a man? Whether he would do such a thing or not, I did not know. What he wanted was for me to fear him. That I would not do.

  “I don’t care,” I said. “No one can kidnap me.”

  “If not you, then they will kidnap your sister. You should be afraid of what they would do to her if you don’t marry me.”

  Somewhere between shock and disbelief, I caught my breath. The MQM were the epitome of evil, raging in the streets like criminals. How could I submit to this blackmail, this betrayal? I was so angry. I had to be careful with this man. I had to stand up to him.

  “So this is how you show you care?” I stared into his big dark eyes, a look of displeasure on my face. “You are a bad person. I would never marry you.”

  He must not have been used to such strong words. His haughtiness turned instantly sheepish. A mortified look washed over him, and he turned from me, striding quickly away. I did not see him again for a few days, when unexpectedly, he called me one evening. He sounded apologetic and wanted to know if I would have time to meet someone, a friend of his.

  “Why should I meet one of your friends?”

  “His name is Haider Maududi.”

  Erfun tried to explain, but I knew the man’s name instantly. He is the son of the late Moulana Maududi, a renowned philosopher and imam. Erfun’s contrition sounded sincere. He knew he could not intimidate me. I wanted to push him away, but in the same breath, I wanted to meet the son of that person I admired most.

  “How do you know him?” I asked.

  “He is my longtime friend and is visiting here with his family from Lahore for private flying lessons. He will convince you to marry me.”

  “I consider you a nice man, one I could be friends with. But I am not thinking about marriage.” I had a deep fear that my dreams would somehow become derailed by marrying Erfun.

  Later that week, I met with Mr. Haider Maududi and his wife. I explained to him how I had read all of his father’s books as a child. We spent some time speaking together during an enjoyable afternoon. I was impressed that Erfun knew the son of the famous Maududi. If he knew Haider Maududi, then that must mean that Erfun had a good circle of friends. Maybe I could trust him to be a good man.

  The rest of the afternoon, Erfun continued to apologize for threatening me. During the day, Haider Maududi took me aside and told me that he could see from talking to me that I was educated and religious. He also knew Erfun wanted to marry me, but that I had doubts about him. He said I should not let Erfun’s lack of education dissuade me. That if we did marry, I would be good for Erfun. I would help him to settle down and become a good man. I did not think too much of Haider Maududi’s statement then; I had never thought of Erfun as a bad person, just not the right person for me. Haider told me that Erfun knew my heart, what I cherished and valued, and so he must love me.

  The day overwhelmed me with a flood of good feelings about my life and even about Erfun. Meeting the son of the late Maududi, whom I greatly admired for his scholarship and religious devotion, and that Erfun knew this man, gave me great hope. Up to that moment, I had not allowed myself the freedom to trust a man.

  I had spent so much time with Father, who was ever skeptical of men’s intentions, and Mother, who had drilled into me since I was a child never to trust anyone. All these years of schooling, I had been so intent on achieving my goals, and certainly marriage and family was one of them, but hardly the only goal of my life.

  Now here was a man who had gone to such great lengths to show that he really loved me. He wanted me in his life, and he wanted to embrace my life with all my ambitions.

  That evening after we left Maududi, I told Erfun that he must speak to my father again. Without Father’s blessing, I would not marry him. Erfun readily agreed. In the next few days, he came to visit Father, and I knew they talked for quite a while. Father, afterward, seemed irritated at me: why would I want to marry a man with no education? Why a man from the Muhajir?

  I told Father that Erfun had promised to allow me to continue my postgraduate education. He had promised to take care of me. He loved me. Isn’t that what Father wanted for me? A man who would love me unconditionally, as he loved Mother.

  I knew Father was reluctant, but he finally gave his ble
ssing. Despite giving me his consent, he was still sad. He knew something was not right. For the next three days, he did not come home, sleeping alone in his law office.

  Erfun and I were officially engaged in a small ceremony. We had dinner a few times to get to know each other better, including a romantic candlelight dinner. At that dinner, he gave me a gold chain and a leather handbag. I felt safe with him, and at peace.

  We were married in Karachi in January of 1985. The ceremony was beautiful. My entire family attended, along with all of Erfun’s family and friends. Sometime during the large celebration, my father came to me and said, “Never come to me with any complaint about your husband.” Then Erfun swept me away to a fairytale honeymoon. He took me to Murree, a resort town northeast of Islamabad, in the mountains of Punjab. I had been here once before as a medical student, and I enjoyed the beauty of the mountains and the scenery. Now happily married to a loving husband, every view appeared enchanted, as if I had never seen it before. In Karachi, the weather is hot and humid most of the year, but here the roofs of the shops, restaurants, cafes, the trees, the grounds, and the surrounding mountains, were all coated with a layer of pristine snow. Everything glistened white, and the crisp, fresh air was invigorating.

  I wore a green dress that delighted Erfun as we strolled among the shops. We ate our meals in a reverie of our new love. Relaxed on boat rides on Lake Murree, floating along by ourselves on a quiet winter day.

  One day I wore a white dress, my hair divided into two long braids hanging over both shoulders. We drifted on a small rowboat in the lake. The sunshine on the tranquil lake glistened on the surface, little diamonds of light that reflected on my face. Erfun kissed me on the cheek, and then on the forehead, and said I looked like a princess in a fairytale dress. Our guide laughed at the unusual sight of a man kissing a woman in public. This was something that Pakistani men did not often do. But Erfun was overcome with the sights and feelings of love, and I was too.

  That day he said, “I love you.” I replied for the first time, “I love you too, Erfun.” He was very excited to hear that, and said, “That is the best thing I have ever heard.”