Akbari, the Ill-Tempered Bride

Now we will tell you a pleasant story, from which you will learn what trouble comes from having no skills.

A foolish girl had been married, and in her foolishness she could not get along in her husband's family for even a year or two. In only the fourth or fifth month of the marriage she began to press her husband: "I can't get on with your mother and sisters; get us a separate house." Her husband said, "In all the quarrels I have heard you have with my mother and sisters, the fault has been yours every time. You have made sisters of the daughters of the common, bazaar sort of people who live in the neighbourhood. Day and night Chuniya, daughter of Bhonda the innkeeper, and Zulfan, daughter of Bakhshu the tinner, Rahmat, daughter of Kammu the water-carrier, and Sulmati, daughter of Maula the greengrocer, are forever crowding round you, and it never occurs to you that these people are neither of our community nor our kin; we have no acquaintance with them, no dealings, no friendship. The whole neighbourhood is talking: 'What a bride has come! Whenever you look, you find girls of that sort sitting with her.' After all, Qazi Imam Ali, Hakim Shifa-ud-Daula, Munshi Mumtaz Ahmad, Maulvi Ruhullah and Mir Hasan Raza live in the neighbourhood too, and their wives and daughters come and go in our house; you don't even speak to any of them. If my mother has forbidden you to mix with the daughters of low, disreputable people, what was wrong in that?"

That foolish wife replied, "Love and friendship depend on hearts meeting. Next door to my mother lived one Basti the bangle-seller; his daughter Banno was my friend. When we were little I used to play with her; I even held a wedding of two dolls with Banno. Poor Banno was very poor, and I used to steal things from my mother and give her lots of them. My mother forbade me again and again, but I would not give up seeing Banno." Her husband said, "That was a pretty piece of nonsense." Hearing this, the stupid woman said to her husband, "Look here, I swear to God, I am telling you: watch your tongue when you speak to me, or I will beat myself till I bleed." With that she began to cry and to curse her own parents: "O God, a curse on my mother and father! What misery they have pushed me into! They have all started beating me because they find me alone. O God, let me die, let my funeral go out of this house!" And in her rage she kicked over the betel box, which stood on the bed. All the catechu and lime fell on the mattress; a quilt of jujube-red *daryai* silk lay folded at the foot of the bed, and as soon as the lime touched it all its colour was eaten away. Hearing the noise of the box falling, her mother-in-law came running from the verandah opposite. When the son saw his mother coming he slipped out by the other door, saying to himself, "I was a fool to stir up a hornets' nest."

When the mother-in-law came and looked, she saw that four pice worth of catechu, which she had strained and boiled only yesterday and filled into a little pot, had all been spilt; the mattress was smeared with catechu and the quilt soaked in lime, and the bride was weeping bitterly. As soon as she came in, the mother-in-law hugged the bride and, quite unjustly, said a great many harsh things about her own son. All this petting gave the bride just the excuse she wanted, as the saying goes, "a push to one who is already dozing". However much the mother-in-law pleaded and reasoned with her, it had no effect at all on that deceitful woman. Hearing the weeping and wailing, the neighbour women gathered. It went so far that Zulfan, daughter of Bakhshu the tinner, ran off to the bride's family and told them four times worse than what had happened. Her mother too, by the grace of God, was very sharp-tempered; the moment she heard, she climbed into a *doli* (covered litter) and arrived. She quarrelled and wrangled a great deal, and in the end took her daughter away with her. For several months all visiting, greetings and messages between the two families stopped.

So that you understand the story properly, you must also be told the names of these people. Akbari Khanam was the name of this foolish and deceitful woman, and her husband's family had given her the title of "Mizajdar Bahu" (Madam Moody, the temperamental bride). This Akbari was foolish, unskilled and bad-tempered, but her younger sister Asghari Khanam was very sensible, understanding and good-natured. At a young age she had read the translation of the Quran and the Urdu books on religious questions; nor was she helpless at writing, and every week she wrote and sent her father news of home. She could sew every kind of garment and knew how to cook all sorts of tasty dishes. The whole neighbourhood praised Asghari Khanam. All the management of her mother's house was in Asghari Khanam's hands; whenever her father came home on leave, he asked Asghari's advice on household arrangements. Money, and the keys of the storeroom and the chests, were all in Asghari's charge. Both parents loved Asghari with heart and soul, and indeed all the people of the neighbourhood were fond of her; but Akbari, for no reason, was always cross with her younger sister, and would even hit her when she found her alone. Yet Asghari always treated her elder sister with respect and never told tales of her to their mother. As it happened, both sisters were betrothed into the same house. Muhammad Aqil and Muhammad Kamil were two full brothers; Akbari had been married to the elder brother, Muhammad Aqil, and Asghari's match with Muhammad Kamil had been settled, but the wedding had not yet taken place. Because of Akbari's bad temper, Asghari's betrothal came close to being broken off; but the girls' aunt, their mother's sister, lived near Muhammad Aqil's house and was always smoothing things over. Although Akbari had gone off after a quarrel, her aunt scolded and reproached her a great deal and explained the rights and wrongs of it to her. At last, after several months, she brought her niece back to her husband's house on the occasion of Ramzan. For a few days Muhammad Aqil was displeased with Mizajdar Bahu; in the end the aunt reconciled husband and wife. But when tempers do not agree, there is something to cause a quarrel in every single thing.

One day Muhammad Aqil said to his mother, "Mother, I have invited a friend; there must be something special for *iftari* (the meal that breaks the fast) and dinner." His mother replied, "God knows what a struggle it is for me even to cook the bread. For three days I have had a shivering fit at the time of breaking the fast and I hardly know what I am doing. God bless our neighbour, who does even this much cooking for us. You might have asked at home before inviting anyone."

Muhammad Aqil, in surprise, pointed to his wife and said, "Is she not even good enough for that much?" The bride had not enough self-control to hear this and keep quiet. The moment she heard it she said, "Go and ask your old mother whether she married off her son or bought a slave-girl. Well, really! Stoking the stove while I'm fasting!"

Muhammad Aqil thought, "If I argue now, there will be a scandal as before." He was left looking foolish, and bought something in the bazaar for the *iftar*. So that matter blew over.

Next another calamity befell Muhammad Aqil: Eid. A week beforehand the poor man began to get a set of clothes ready for Madam Mizajdar Bahu. Every day he brought all kinds of cloth, bangles of every colour, and shoes embroidered with a border and a half and with spangles and sequins; nothing found favour with Mizajdar. At last there was only one day left before Eid. In desperation he went to Akbari Khanam's aunt. Hearing his voice, she called him inside, kissed him and blessed him, sat him down affectionately, made him a *pan* (betel leaf) and asked, "Tell me, is Akbari well?"

Muhammad Aqil said, "Madam, your niece is a woman of a very strange temper. I am at my wits' end. Every way she has is peculiar, and every word she says is crooked."

The aunt said, "My son, don't take any notice of it. She is young still; when there are children and the burden of the house falls on her, her temper will put itself right. And after all, good people get along even with bad ones. My son, God has made you capable in every way; don't let it come to people laughing at you. After all, it is your honour."

Muhammad Aqil said, "Madam, it is just for this reason that I keep overlooking a great deal. But see now: tomorrow is Eid, and so far she has neither put on her bangles nor had her clothes made. Please come and talk some sense into her. I have said a great deal, and my mother has pleaded a great deal, but she won't listen." The aunt said, "Very well. Your uncle has gone to the mosque to pray; when he comes back I will ask him and then come."

In short, the aunt went and had her put on her bangles and cut out the clothes, and to be quick they all sat down together to sew. The aunt said, "My girl, you put the gores into the trousers; your mother-in-law can cut the edging, and meanwhile I'll stitch the border on your *dupatta* (scarf)."

When Akbari had put in the gores she said to her aunt with an air, "There you are, Bi! You still have two panels left, and I've already put the gores into both legs."

The aunt looked and saw that all the gores were in upside down. Out of regard for Akbari's mother-in-law she said nothing openly, but quietly gave her two or three pinches so sharp that tears came into Akbari's eyes, and signalled to her, "You wretch, use your eyes! You've put the gores in upside down!"

Akbari unpicked everything she had sewn and began putting in the gores again. When she had finished, her aunt looked and found them all puckered. Now the aunt could bear it no longer; when Akbari's mother-in-law was not looking she pricked Akbari's hand with a needle, unpicked the gores again and put them in herself. At last, after much ado, Mizajdar Bahu's clothes were sewn and ready. It was late at night; Akbari's aunt took her leave and went home. All the others went to bed too.

The children woke early in the joy of Eid. One took off the henna put on the night before, one mixed up oil-cake and gram flour for washing, and one, as soon as he was up, began asking for his *eidi* (the Eid gift of money).

Muhammad Aqil too, after finishing the morning prayer, went to the bath-house to bathe. Having bathed and washed, he came back when the sun was well up and saw the children dressed in their new clothes and ready for the *Eidgah* (the open ground for the Eid prayer), but Madam Mizajdar Bahu was asleep as usual. Muhammad Aqil said to his little sister Mahmuda, "Mahmuda, go and wake your sister-in-law." At first Mahmuda hesitated, because she was very afraid of Mizajdar Bahu; since the wedding Mizajdar had not once spoken kindly to her little sister-in-law, nor ever let her come near her or sit with her. But because her brother told her to, and in the joy of Eid, Mahmuda ran off and said, "Sister-in-law! Get up!"

As soon as she got up, the sister-in-law slapped Mahmuda. Mahmuda began to cry. Her brother heard her from outside and came running; seeing her crying, he picked her up in his arms and asked, "What happened?"

Mahmuda said through her tears, "Sister-in-law hit me."

Mizajdar said, "Look at the little liar, the wretch! She fell over herself while running, and she blames me!"

Muhammad Aqil was angry, but he saw what the moment called for and controlled himself. He petted and soothed Mahmuda until she was quiet, and said to his wife, "Well, never mind. Get up, have your bath and change your clothes; the day is well on, and I am going to the Eidgah."

Mizajdar wrinkled her nose and eyebrows and said, "I don't bathe so early, it's the cold time of day. You go to your Eidgah; have I stopped you?"

Muhammad Aqil was very hurt to hear such a curt reply. And Mizajdar had always been such a wretch that she kept her husband unhappy all the time. Just then his mother called Muhammad Aqil: "Son, go and fetch some milk from the bazaar, and then go off to the Eidgah, and good luck to you."

Muhammad Aqil said, "Very well, give me the money and I'll bring the milk. But if she hasn't changed her clothes by the time I come back, I'll put all her clothes in the stove."

Muhammad Aqil went off to the bazaar for the milk. His mother knew that her son was very angry, and that his nature was such that, though in the first place he did not easily lose his temper, when he did there was no holding him. Fearing that he might really burn the new clothes, she hurried to the bride and said, "My daughter, for God's sake, don't bring bad luck on the one day of the year; get up, have your bath and change your clothes."

Mizajdar said, "No, Bi, I won't bathe now. I'll bathe later."

At last, by coaxing and pleading, the mother-in-law got the bride bathed and washed, her hair combed and plaited and her clothes on, and had her sitting dressed like a bride before Muhammad Aqil came back.

Muhammad Aqil was pleased to see this. As he set off for the Eidgah he asked Mahmuda, "Tell me, little one, what toy shall I bring you from the bazaar?" Mahmuda said, "Bring me a pretty book-rest, to put my *sipara* (section of the Quran) on, and a tiny little box to keep my pen and inkpot in." Mizajdar spoke up of her own accord: "And for me?" Muhammad Aqil said, "Whatever you like to ask for, I'll bring." Mizajdar said, "Corn cobs and water chestnuts, and wild jujube berries, and pea pods, and lots and lots of oranges, a tambourine and a little hand-drum."

Hearing this, Muhammad Aqil began to laugh and said, "What will you do with a tambourine and a hand-drum?" The foolish Mizajdar answered, "Play them, of course; what else would we do?"

Muhammad Aqil saw that this foolish woman still had the petty ideas of a silly child, all about eating and playing. The pleasure he had felt at her changing her clothes all came to nothing, and he went off to the Eidgah in the same low spirits.

No sooner had he gone than Mizajdar did something else new. She said to her mother-in-law, "Send for a *doli* for me; I am going to my mother's house."

Her mother-in-law said, "Now is this any time to go? You have only just come back from your mother's house after four months; it is barely eight days. To go on the very day of Eid is quite improper."

Mizajdar said, "I feel very restless today, my heart is turning over. I miss my friend from home, Banno, the daughter of Basti the bangle-seller, very much."

Her mother-in-law said, "My daughter, heaven forbid! Has anyone ever been so infatuated with anyone as you are with Banno? If you want her so badly, send for her here."

Mizajdar said, "Oh, indeed! A fine one you are to send for her! If you were going to send for anyone, you would have sent for her yesterday to put on my bangles."

Her mother-in-law said, "But, my daughter, how was I to know that you would suddenly be tickled by the memory of her?"

Mizajdar said, "Well, what's the use of arguing? If you will send for a *doli*, send for one; if not, I'll send word to Sulmati's father to get me one."

Her mother-in-law said, "Girl, have you lost your senses? Without asking your husband, without a word to anyone, you go off on your own! And I have no wish to have my old grey head shaved in disgrace by sending for a *doli* without my son's leave."

Mizajdar said, "What husband, and what asking? Is a person not to see her own parents even at Eid and Baqr-Eid?"

With that, she sent Maula the greengrocer for a *doli*, and off she went in a flash.

A little later Muhammad Aqil came back from the Eidgah, and as soon as he entered the house he called out, "Here you are, Bi, take your hand-drum and tambourine and play!" He saw that everyone was silent. He asked his mother, "What has happened? Is everything all right?"

Mahmuda said, "Sister-in-law has gone."

Muhammad Aqil asked in astonishment, "What! How did she go? Where has she gone? Why did you let her go?"

His mother replied, "She was sitting there, and all of a sudden she began to say, 'I am going to my mother's.' I forbade her as much as I could, but she wouldn't listen to a word. She had Maula fetch a *doli* and went, and I was left just standing there trying to stop her."

When Muhammad Aqil heard this he shook with rage, and wanted to go to his in-laws' house at once and punish that worthless woman. With this in mind he started to go out. His mother understood; as he was going she called him, and he made no answer. His mother said, "Bravo, my son, bravo! I am calling you, and you hear me and don't answer! In the thirteenth century this is all the respect left for mothers!" [TN: the thirteenth century of the Hijri era, which ended in 1882 CE.]

On hearing this Muhammad Aqil turned straight back. His mother said, "Son, just tell me where you are going in this sun. You have only just come back from the Eidgah, and now you are off out again! May your mother be your sacrifice, you will make yourself ill."

Muhammad Aqil said, "Bi, I'm not going anywhere. I'm going to the mosque to see Hafiz-ji."

His mother said, "Boy, come to your senses! I didn't whiten my hair sitting in the sun. Well, really, he is trying to fob me off with talk! If you are going to Hafiz-ji, take off your *angarkha* and *dupatta* and leave them here, and sit in the mosque to your heart's content."

Hearing this, Muhammad Aqil began to smile. His mother took him by the hand and sat him down beside her, and looking at his head she said, "Going to the Eidgah and back, your hair has got all dusty. Just lie down a little with your head on the pillow and I'll clean it."

Because his mother told him to, Muhammad Aqil lay down for a moment. Mahmuda, seeing her brother lying down, began to fan him. What with the tiredness of going to the Eidgah and back, and the cool breeze of the fan, and above all the comfort of his mother stroking his head with her loving hand, Muhammad Aqil fell asleep.

When he woke, the afternoon was well on and his anger had cooled. His mother said, "Now wash your hands and face, make your ablutions and say the noon prayer; time is short. Then come back and I'll tell you what to do."