It has been a week since our visit to the psychiatrist.
I haven’t noticed a considerable change in Sarah’s behavior but the difference in the way people treated us was definitely visible.
When Sarah and I went for a walk yesterday (which was only made possible after I bribed her into going out with me in return for which I let her skip taking her medicines for the day), the kids in the neighborhood seemed to treat us like absolute strangers. These were the same kids that had come to my place several times a week in the past few years to ask me to return their ball, which landed on my balcony while playing cricket. Yet, they completely ignored me when we walked past them yesterday, they did not greet me as they usually would but instead, gathered their cricket kit and dispersed without anything like a nod of acknowledgment.
“Haider, why is everyone treating us differently?”, I couldn’t help but ask him. Mother always said that if you couldn’t figure things out on your own, ask your husband. That’s exactly why I never asked him anything. I could figure things out on my own. But tonight, I felt like I had lost my ability to do that.
“Who treated you differently?”, he casually asked as he brushed his hair. He was getting dressed to leave for a corporate dinner. I was also invited but I refused to attend because I had to take care of my sister, Sarah. Deep inside, I knew that I wouldn’t go even if I didn’t have to take care of Sarah. Being in a room full of people who had accomplished something in life and talking about my experience as the wife of someone who was part of the crowd did not appeal to me.
“The neighborhood kids”, I said, “They did not even greet me today”
“Oh they might have been busy playing”, Haider remarked, “Come on, you can’t take kids that seriously”
Haider had a habit of not taking things “seriously” as he called it. My mother said it was a trait that made him successful. I wonder if not taking me seriously was also part of the reason for his success.
“I don’t know, I think they are scared of Sarah”
“Well...I know this must be rough for you but there has been a lot of chatter lately about her violent outbursts so it makes sense that the neighbors have asked their kids to keep a safe distance from her”, he turned towards me and smiled empathetically.
“But she is not acting irrationally…she has been through a traumatic life experience”, I noticed that I was almost shouting, “Her husband tried to kill her after he has been abusing her for two years and just because she screams at night, everyone thinks she is the problem now??”
“No, no, you don’t understand, Maria”, he sat on the bed beside me and put his hand on my shoulder, “She is not the problem but the neighbors don’t know the back story, they just hear her screams and that’s all they want to avoid” “Would they stop being scared of her if they heard her story though?”, I knew the answer but I wanted to hear his response.
“Why are you letting them get into your head? Who cares what they think?”, he said, “They can think or say whatever they want. Only we know the true story and what matters the most is how we support Sarah in this difficult time, okay?”
I knew he was right.
“But no one bats an eye when they can hear Mr. Khan shouting at his wife every night. In fact, they still treat him with respect just because he is the building’s secretary”, I objected. Mr. Khan was well-known for his intolerant behavior. He reminded me of my dad a lot. A man who would throw a fit every time he was not served warm food. Apparently, his wife claimed he loved her a lot too.
He may get angry sometimes and lose his temper but when it comes to love, he doesn’t shy away from expressing it. He just got me a 2-carat diamond ring for our anniversary. Can you believe it?
His wife loved bragging about the expensive gifts he showered her with.
“That’s their personal matter”, he was irritated, “We can’t just judge people for what they do in their homes”
Wow.
“I am running late”, he checked his watch, “Should I get you something for dinner?”
“No, I am not hungry” “That’s not happening”, he shook his head, “Text me what you want to eat or I will just get a burrito okay?”
“But..”, I protested.
“I know you are stressed and there’s a lot going on but you have to eat”, he insisted, “You have been doing a lot here lately. You need to take care of yourself too.”
I nodded.
“Love you, bye”, he kissed me on the forehead and rushed out as his phone started ringing. I glanced at the clock and realized he was already 20 minutes late.
Now that I was left alone as Haider had left and Sarah was sleeping, I realized that I was starving. I hadn’t had the time to cook anything in the day and by the time Haider came back from work in the evening, I was too exhausted to even think about food.
At least, Haider remembered that I hadn’t eaten. He always knew when I needed something.
My mother would have said that this was the best thing about him but then, she seemed to like everything about him.
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