"Your footsteps betray you ..."


It is early evening when Sehmat wakes from what was supposed to be a nap but had turned into an actual dreamless slumber. It is certainly a welcome change from the usual uneasy sleep that she had been having lately. The sun is just about to set, and faint pink-golden light is flooding the room. She hears a door close and sits up to see Iqbal enter the room slowly, in uniform. It appears he has just gotten back from the station headquarters.

He sees her sitting up with some amount of surprise and says, "I didn't mean to wake you up … sorry."

Sehmat waves off his apology with a slight smile as she gets off the bed and the next moment stumbles and falls. She vaguely realises that she hasn't really fallen—Iqbal has steadied her—and puts a hand to her temple as if that would do away with her lightheadedness. She closes her eyes with a grimace until she can bear to stand on her own feet, then opens them and lets out a short breath. Iqbal presses a glass of water into her hands, which she takes gratefully, and sips at it tentatively while she tries to make sense of what had just happened.

"Are you alright?" Iqbal asks, brow furrowed in concern. He's still holding on to her as if she might fall again. He doesn't let go until she has answered.

"How did you fall?"

"I … don't know. I suppose I got up too fast."

Iqbal arches his eyebrows, and Sehmat is quick to dissipate his worries, even as she wonders herself. She sets about putting his things into place when unwittingly, Munira bhabhi's words come to her. Sehmat swallows. It isn't an entirely implausible idea, now that she thinks about it. It isn't as if she and Iqbal haven't been intimate, and it has been a while since she last bled. She had thought it was because of all the stress, but now she wonders. She turns towards the mirror in the bedroom and looks at herself properly for the first time in days. She doesn't look as though she has gained any weight recently. 'Yet,' a small part of her brain tells her, and she doesn't know if she should shush it.

There are, however, other things to worry about. As Iqbal steps out of the bathroom, clearly in a hurry, he takes his bag and beret in preparation to leave. Sehmat's heart stops for a moment. Mir Sahab had refused to tell her any specifics about their plant apart from what is absolutely necessary. If he were going to the Inspection Bureau or the Headquarters ...

"Where are you going?" she asks quietly as she follows him out of their bedroom with his wallet in hand.

"Station Headquarters. I need to fill out some paperwork and pick up some files," Iqbal says as he accepts his wallet from her in the foyer, "I might be a while. Abba and Bhaijaan should be back soon, however."

Sehmat nods, acutely aware of the speed with which her heart is beating, and she watches as he leaves, giving her a small smile.

She returns inside the house, but instead of returning to her bedroom she wanders aimlessly around. She moves from the living room to the kitchen, then to the dining room until she finds herself at the door of her bedroom once more. She sighs, then heads inside with a sick feeling in her stomach which she knows will not be alleviated until all members of the house are safely inside it.


Dinner is mostly uneventful, and Abba and Bhaijaan are back by the time it begins, but not Iqbal, and Sehmat worries.

"He will be late," Bhaijaan says.

Evidently he notices how her eyes keep finding the clock and then the window. Sehmat nods, moving her food around her plate. She doesn't really have the heart to eat. Still, under Munira's watchful eyes she shoves some spoonfuls of rice down her throat and tries to rid herself of the ominous feeling that has begun to settle in her stomach. Abba and Bhaijaan seem to have resolved their conflict. They are making some conversation which she tries to concentrate on to distract herself, but decides that most of it is fluff—what relatives are getting married and what generals are getting promotions—until Abba asks about the metal piece and the inspection bureau.

"I visited there before coming home," Bhaijaan says, "and submitted the piece to them. They say it might be another week before they can establish its origin and dust it for fingerprints."

Abba nods, and no more is said on the topic. Sehmat breathes a small sigh. At least the piece has been submitted. Silence reigns the table after that, and Sehmat's eyes move towards the wall clock again. 8 PM. He had left at six and had said he'd be a while. It's been a while. The sick feeling in her stomach is starting to spread, and Sehmat finds that she cannot bear eating anymore—not that she has eaten much anyway—for fear of throwing up.

She looks up when the two men rise from the table, and it is only her and Munira left, the latter of whom is looking intently at the former. Sehmat, however, refrains from meeting her eyes, aware of what is going on in her sister-in-law's head.

"Are you actually going to eat that?" Munira asks finally, and Sehmat looks up with a grimace.

"I don't think I can," she replies truthfully, "I feel as if I'm going to throw up."

Munira rises from the table and begins collecting various dishes, Sehmat beside her, helping her carry them to the kitchen.

"Have you given it any thought?"

Sehmat doesn't have to ask what 'it' is this time. She is fully aware of 'it' playing in the back of her mind.

"I'm still unsure …" she says after a moment, and Munira looks up at her from where she is crouched before the fridge.

"... but?" she prompts Sehmat further, and Sehmat swallows before coming out with the next part of her sentence.

"... the idea might not be completely without merit."

Munira hums and gets up before shutting the fridge door.

"So we'll have to be sure, wouldn't we?" she asks, raising an eyebrow, and Sehmat nods slowly.

"We can go to my doctor," Munira continues on the affirmative action, smiling, "I'll get us an appointment tomorrow."

Sehmat nods again.

"But you must not stress yourself too much. And don't exhaust yourself over anything." She places her hand gently on the younger woman's shoulder before she leaves, still smiling.

Sehmat watches Munira leave silently, not entirely sure if she should be smiling too at the prospect of having a child.


She tries doing the accounts for the shop while waiting up for Iqbal but gives up on it after making the same multiplication error thrice. Half an hour has passed since dinner and her conversation with Munira bhabhi and five minutes since she last checked the clock. She puts away her notebook with a sigh and begins to prepare the bed. Her racing heart and pessimistic mind are her only company, and she knows she is not going to get any sleep. Not until Iqbal is also in bed beside her.

She picks up the book she has been reading the past week and slides under the duvet, trying to focus. She ends up having read the same page twice before her confusion, guilt, and fear catch up with her. She feels her eyes well up. She might lose Iqbal. Her head has begun to hurt now, and the only coherent thought that she can manage is that she might lose Iqbal. Not that anyone else from back home will think any of it. He'd be just another casualty among who knows how many others, to cover a stupid mistake that she had made. She sniffs, then turns off the lights in the room, goes back to bed, and lays tracing the ceiling with her eyes in the all-consuming darkness. It'd be her fault if he died, the same way it was her fault Abdul died.

She wipes her tear-stained cheeks and turns over so that she is facing his side of the bed. With her back to the door she lies still, very still, for who knows how long—worrying her lip as she watches the night outside the window, and finally she hears the sound of tires rolling on dirt and coming to a halt. A door opens and then closes. The doorbell rings, and her heartbeat quickens, the door opens, and closes again. The house is filled with silence for a few seconds, and it seems to stretch on forever. Finally, the bedroom door opens. Sehmat turns softly towards the door. The figure in the doorway is trying to close the door softly to avoid disturbing her, and he is lean and carries a briefcase. She breathes out slowly. Not a message about death. She reaches over to the nightlight on the bedside table and pulls it on—to the surprise of her husband. When she sees him, relief like nothing else floods her heart.

"I thought you were asleep," he says to her softly as he walks over to the futon, and she shakes her head with a smile she cannot control.


Sehmat's day begins early the next day. If she is honest, it's barely even daytime at three AM. She is awoken by urgent knocks to her bedroom door. Iqbal sits up drowsily as she answers the door, and is met with a very worried looking Munira—who is still in her nightclothes—telling her to send Iqbal downstairs as soon as possible.

"Something has happened. We got a call; it's urgent—all three have to leave now."

Sehmat nods and turns to Iqbal, who is already out of bed and looking for his uniform. Sehmat puts on her dressing gown and descends the stairs to go to the kitchen, where Munira is making coffee. She greets her with a nod as she pours the coffee into mugs.

"I wonder what it is," she says.

Sehmat heaves a barely audible sigh as she places the hot mugs on a tray and takes it outside to set them on the table. She knows what it is. Munira sinks heavily into a couch and yawns as Sehmat joins her, waiting for the menfolk to descend. They all arrive almost at the exact same time; the two younger officers make straight for their coffee. Abba storms towards the telephone and begins making calls, getting increasingly frustrated with each one, until he finally hangs up swearing loudly enough that none of the occupants of the room are able to look at each other.

"Those rogues from the Mukti Fauj set fire to the Station Headquarters, the Inspection Bureau, and no less than three of the city's police stations," he seethes when he comes back to the living room.

The two brothers' eyes widen, as do Munira's. Sehmat has to scramble to put an appropriately shocked expression on her face.

"Did we get any of them?" Bhaijaan asks, and Sehmat's heart skips a beat.

"No. We almost had one, but he slipped away in the Chaos."

The room is so quiet you could hear a pin drop, until Iqbal asks, "How did they get in?"

Abba shakes his head in frustration and lets out a long breath. "They had it all planned," he says. "We found a half-burnt discarded uniform. It had the name tag of a soldier who had deserted us a few months ago. They are still putting out the fire … but who knows how much material can be salvaged.

"We'll have to go visit the Headquarters if they're safe to go into, and then start investigating. We should move now—we don't have much time before they leave the city, if they haven't already, that is."

His coffee untouched, Abba makes for the door, his sons following. Munira collects the cups as Sehmat's mind reels with the information she has unwittingly acquired. If Mir Sahab hasn't yet left the city, he could be in danger—not that she can do anything about it. He had given her explicit instructions to lie low until this particular war gets over with, and then her 'options will be discussed'.


Glossary:

Ma : Mother

Abba : Father

Bhaijaan : Brother

Miyaan : Here, husband.

Bhabhi : Sister-in-law (brother's wife)

Phool chadar : A sheet of knitted flowers used as offerings for worship.

Rajma : Kidney beans

Kabuli Chane : Chickpeas

Assalam aalekum : 'Peace be upon you', an Arabic greeting

Chachi : Aunt

Walaikum assalam : 'And unto you be peace', an Arabic greeting

Beta : here, Child

Ammi : Mother

Mohtarma : Madam

Choti Begum : 'Choti' means younger, and 'Begum' is the title of a married Muslim woman, equivalent to Mrs. Together in this context they refer to Sehmat being the younger daughter-in-law of the house.