Disclaimer; All characters and themes belong to Khaled Hosseini.
I did this as a creative writing piece for my English class, It is set between the pages of 45- 55. It is Jalil's Point of View of sending Mariam away to marry Rasheed.
"She needs to leave, we can't hide your little Harami forever, your mistake", Afsoon adjourns abruptly spitting vehemently in disgust at the thought of her staying with them for any longer. With a huff he ends the discussion decisively. I want to comfort Mariam, tell her to stay as long as she needs, but also I need to support my wives. The Decision is gruelling but i know what i want in my heart. In my head, the decision was made. "I agree, if the people of Herat learn of this transgression, I could lose powerful investors and my reputation, we need to send her far away". I hate myself for saying this, even I could hear the crack in my voice but I kept my face straight - distant. Afsoon, Khadija and Nargis nodded in agreement before taking leave of my office to their own rooms.
Situating myself at the long maple wood dining table, the gleam of light stretching from the open window behind me enhancing the richness of the wood, I am aware of the rows of flowering apple trees through the window behind me growing in the yard, Mariam would have loved to pick fresh apples this spring. I wipe the sweat off my brow partly a result of the early spring heat but mostly because of the dread I feel over what is about to come. Afsoon leaves the room to get Mariam, I have Khadija and Nargis sitting on my left with a seat on my right for Afsoon. Afsoon returns shortly after seating herself beside me, Mariam comes in and sits directly across from me. I see Khadija adjusting her scarf, I suggested they wear it out of respect for sending Mariam away, because of their own selfishness, although I suppose that I'm no better myself.
I notice Mariam staring at the sweltering water pitcher, sitting on top of the delicate glass coaster next to the basket of marigolds. "Have you been comfortable, this… ordeal… must be very hard on you. So difficult." Nargis approached sincerely as if trying to stable a frightened animal, her tone is gentle and her face is sympathetic, I am very relieved with how she starts the conversation afraid that they, my wives, would rush right into it. Mariam doesn't reply, instead she makes a strained expression. I want to comfort her but she is a grown woman now and has to grow up someday, even if i could I don't think I could move from this chair, I am paralyzed with guilt, it worries me that she hasn't spoken yet throughout this conversation. "I- that is, we- have brought you here because we have some good news to give you." Afsoon explained calmly, getting straight to the point, Mariam's head shot up,. I slumped in my chair and wondered how Mariam must feel right now, how soon, she will be sent to Kabul with Rasheed, her intended. I have heard stories of him, his negligence towards his deceased wife and son, him forcing his previous wife to wear the constricting burqa and there are rumours of his horrible temper. I hope that these rumours i've heard are not true, but my wives seem pretty adamant that he is a suitable candidate to marry her off too, they say that he owns a good little store, and a 2 story house that he owns and would be able to provide a stable home for Mariam, that he isn't the worst choice, that children younger have been married to men older. My wives assure me that he was looking for a new wife and would be good to her, but I think they are just wanting to send her as far away as possible. He was from Kandahar, a Pashtun, a shoemaker with his own store.
I fiddle with my wedding band on my finger trying not to pay much attention to the conversation, I feel ashamed, guilty that i have to send her away, I love her as if she were legitimately my own, as if her birth were not shrouded in such controversial circumstances but I can't oppose my wives, I know that most men don't give their wives much choice, that they use them as they please, but I have always been against that type of lifestyle and this is where it has gotten me, losing my daughter. "Jalil Jo?", Khadija, my oldest wife, calls drawing me out of my thoughts. I lift my eyes and meet Mariam's hardened mirthless green orbs before looking down, I can't bring myself to look at her and see the hurt and anguish in her eyes. I let out a pained groan at what I have to do and say. I feel appalled by the fact that I am sending her off, and the disappointment that I am sure she is feeling towards me. "Say something," Mariam pleads, desperately hoping for an answer that will save her from this fate. I feel horrible. I can't do this, "Goddamn it, Mariam, don't do this to me." I mutter in a thin, threadbare voice, just willing this day to be over.
The next morning passed feeling like a blur, I spoke only when necessary, the wedding passed and I had my driver take myself, Mariam and Rasheed to the bus stop. Rasheed boarded the multicoloured bus immediately, the smell of his last cigarette lingering in the air, his coarse salt and pepper hair disappearing from view with his slow heavy footed footsteps dragging himself up the stairs of the vehicle, whilst I stood at the bumper of my car talking to Mariam a while longer.
I marvel at the beautiful scenery of Kabul, the bustling bazaars, the gardens, the air, everything great about Kabul to make Mariam feel a little better. I can see that it's not working, that she is too deep in thought, but i persist. "I used to worship you" she whispered, despondent her eyes glistening with unshed tears and an unknown hardness tinging her voice. I stopped mid sentence, shocked that Mariam had finally spoken to me. "I didn't know that you were ashamed of me,"She continued. No, no I don't think that, I want you to stay,i'm so sorry, all these words are on the tip of my tongue but they do not make it out past my lips. I kick at the rocks and sand grinding underneath my feet. "You were ashamed of me."she mutters barely audible, she looked away almost disbelievingly at the fact that she had fooled herself for believing that she was equal to the other children, sharp pains shot through my chest as i noticed that look on her face.
"I'll visit you" I mutter, trying to come to terms with not only Mariam but myself too, for letting her leave this way. "I'll come to Kabul and see you, We'll-" I am cut off by Mariam. "No, no, don't come…." she says more but I am so hurt, I am so ashamed that I cannot listen any longer. I have hurt her this much, so much in the short 15 years that she has lived.
"It ends here for you and me. Say your good-byes." I feel so much penitence, it is overwhelming "Don't leave like this." My voice strained. A few more words were spoken, before she left me standing there, heading towards the bus "Mariam Jo" I say, slightly higher than a whisper. I rap against the bus windows, tears falling freely, trying to get her attention. I want her to know that I am not ashamed of her, no matter what she may think, there are so many more things I wanted to say. Mariam doesn't acknowledge me and the bus rolls away leaving behind only the floating dust in the air and the crowd of people that had gathered to see their loved one off, I feel a huge weight place itself upon my shoulders for not making things right, for having her live out her life secluded and alone. I resent my wives for making me go through this but in all honesty it is me who is to blame. Mariam trusted me, without questions, and I ruined that. As a father I have betrayed my daughter beyond forgiveness.