Story: One-room house

 

This story begins with silence. A tall, fair, graceful widow of thirty-five years old and her three daughters, tall but plump. Day after day, for a long time, they have all been wearing black mourning clothes. The youngest of the girls is sixteen and the eldest is in her early twenties. Like their father, the girls are all black, with strange bodies, plump, and plump - they have almost nothing of their mother's figure. They spend their days in a one-room house. Despite extreme poverty, their one-room house is small and comfortable due to the feminine touch. When night falls, four bodies lie scattered in this house. The lumps of warm living flesh start rolling on the bed and on the armchair - the sleepless night hangs heavy in the room with the sound of heavy breathing.

The house has been silent ever since the only male member of the house died after a long illness, but that too has been almost two years. The period of mourning has passed long ago, but the habit of mourning has not died, especially this tendency to remain silent. It is a kind of waiting. The girls are getting older but no suitor is treading this path. Who would want to marry a girl who is ugly and an orphan? But hope never dies (for the right buyer, it is a given that there will be someone poorer than them). The girls are sitting there hoping that one day their fate will change. No matter how poor they are, there is definitely someone poorer than them. And if we are talking about appearance, there is no shortage of people uglier than them. The most important thing is that if we are patient, our dreams will come true one day.

Breaking this permanent silence, the tune of the Quran recitation in a monotonous voice can be heard in this house from time to time. A blind reciter prays for the soul of the deceased to abode in heaven. Every Friday, his stick makes a sound at the door of this house. Someone then extends his hand and brings him inside. He kneels on the mat and begins reciting the Quran. After praying, he gropes for his shoes, greets them and leaves. No one welcomes him or bids him farewell. Out of habit, he comes, recites the Quran and leaves. No one even notices his presence.

The impenetrable silence of this house is not disturbed even by the melody of the Quran. Perhaps only the pressure of silence can end the silence. Waiting is as eternal as hope. Even insignificant people live in constant hope, no matter how insignificant it may be. There are always those who are more insignificant than insignificant. And this natural desire of women cannot be called ambition.

The day would have passed like this if the blind reciter had not come to this house as usual that Friday. Everything has an end, and it seems that this is what happened in this case too. That day, for the first time, the mother and daughters realized that a man's voice had been heard in this house at least once a week. And this man was the only man who had ever set foot in this house. They suddenly realized that even though he was poor, his clean clothes, shiny shoes, and perfectly tied turban would put any sighted person to shame. And what was more, he had a bright, deep, melodious voice. They began to feel that they should call him right away and renew the contract. Could he be busy somewhere else? Whatever it was, they could wait. They had a habit of waiting.

The evening was over. He was reciting the Quran as if they were hearing it for the first time. They began to think that the one whose voice filled the house should be married by one of them.

He was a young unmarried man with a newly grown mustache. It was said that he was also looking for a suitable bride. Learning this from the girls' conversation, the mother looked at the girls' faces. Trying to understand which of them was the lucky one? But the faces that didn't meet their mother's eyes seemed to say, "What reward is this for our long wait? A blind man is the reward for our long wait?" They were still dreaming of getting a real husband. And a husband means a young man with sight. Poor things, they still have to get to know men. It is not possible for them to understand at this age that just having eyes is not enough for a man.

"Mother, you marry him."

"Me? What a shame! What will people say?"

"Let anyone say whatever they want. A house where at least a man's voice is heard is much better than a house without guardians."

"Will I marry you? Impossible."

"That would be good. After that, many more men will have the opportunity to come to this house. We will also get married then. You marry him, mother. And mother, marry him."

Then, their mother got married. Another person's breath was added to the one-room house. Although the family's income increased slightly, a big problem arose this time. The first night passed somehow, but the newlyweds did not get close to each other, despite their mistakes. Although the girls were asleep or pretending to be asleep, the mother clearly felt a few pairs of eyes measuring the distance between them. An attempt was being made to understand something with their entire being. The girls were old enough to understand the meaning of marital relations. Suddenly, the whole house became something sensitive. As if the whole house was illuminated even in the darkness of night.

In the morning, the girls left the house one by one. As evening fell, they hesitantly approached the house with a kind of uneasiness. They heard laughter and sometimes a faint feminine voice throughout the house they had left. It must have been their mother and the respected reciter they knew. Seeing the girls, the mother approached them - wet hair, comb in hand, still smiling. They looked at their mother's face. It was as if a lamp that had been extinguished for a long time, the corners of which had accumulated soot, was now lit. A glimmer of laughter in her sparkling eyes. From that day on, silence was banished from their lives. Dinner time passed in a hush. The reciter, in his melodious voice, imitated Umm Kulthum (the third of the four daughters of Hazrat Muhammad) and Abdul Wahhab (an Islamic scholar), completely captivating them all. This is what I want. Very soon, this sound of laughter, this cheerfulness would attract other men as well. Have faith, girls. Very soon the men will start arriving and the interest of the marriage candidates will also be revealed. But above all, the mother's mind was immersed in the dream of a young husband. The man is blind, but even if we have eyes, we often do not look at others. The man's overflowing tide of vitality has washed away the memories of mother's illness, impotence and premature old age for so many years. The pulse of life has been established in this one-room house, banishing the silence. They have been married according to religion, they are now legal husband and wife. Now nothing shames the mother anymore. Nothing is secret, there is no such effort. Night falls in the one-room house, all the people are crowded into one room. At some point, the body and soul of the couple meet at the request of the body. Perhaps the girls are restless in their wakeful sleep, trying to suppress their long breaths and murmurs. The mother spent her days sewing clothes in the homes of the rich, while her husband spent his days reciting the Quran in the homes of the poor. Initially, the man would not return home in the afternoon. But lately, to overcome the fatigue of the night and to prepare for the night, he needed to rest. The couple spent a few nights happily. One night, the man suddenly asked, what happened to him in the afternoon. Why was he talking so much now, but he was completely silent in the afternoon? Why is the wedding ring now on his hand, but he was not on it in the afternoon?

It could have been that the mother had screamed like a madman as soon as she heard this, lost her wits and killed the man. Because what she heard could only have one meaning. A cruel, horrible meaning. But she swallowed hard and pushed the frantic cry inside and calmed herself down. She tried to listen to all the senses of her body in the darkness, trying to understand who the culprit was. Why did it seem like it was the work of this middle man? Her eyes had become terrifyingly sharp lately. Still, the mother kept listening to make sure. The irregular sounds of the three girls' heavy, heavy breathing could be heard. The natural longing of youth was floating in the air with the sound of murmurs, like the glow of fire, like hot lava erupting from the thirsty earth. The mother's breath was coming to a halt, a lump of tears was stuck in her throat. The mother can no longer recognize her children separately - all people have become one in the heat of desire. Hunger runs through everyone's body. This silent lamentation of the children is not a cry, but a plea to the mother, a heartfelt prayer or perhaps something more.

Until now, the mother has been absorbed in her own just attainment. She did not think of her responsibility towards her children. Waiting for her daughters now seems bitter, the desire for marriage has boiled away like a peppercorn. Suddenly, they have awakened as if by a beating or by some secret call from within. The object of desire is forbidden, but desire is an even greater sin here. The mother knows this hunger very well. How long has this hunger manifested itself in her blood and marrow in the union of the soul. It is impossible for her to forget the satisfaction with which she is now full.

Hungry children! As a mother, she has satisfied the hunger of her children all her life by providing food for her own mouth, never thinking about herself. And today? How could she forget that she was a mother?

After that night, no plea could wake her up. The pain had turned into silence. The mother had been completely silent since that day. The next morning, the eldest daughter was seen at the breakfast table, just as she had imagined. The mother and daughter had taken refuge in silence since then. During dinner, the blind master was happily swaying, singing, and laughing, but today only the elder and younger daughters matched this joy.

The bitterness of the test of patience had made the girls sick, but so far no suitor had appeared. One day, the elder daughter suddenly looked at her mother's wedding ring and expressed admiration. The mother's heart trembled. Through the rapid beating of her heartbeat, the mother heard that the elder daughter was asking her for the ring for just one day. The mother quietly took off the ring and gave it to her daughter. The daughter also took the ring in her hand without saying anything else.

That evening, the elder girl also became completely silent. And that day, only the younger girl seemed interested in the blind master's joy.

While waiting, the younger girl also grew up, but the goddess of fortune was not pleased. And one day, when she asked for her place in this game, she became a part of it without making any noise.

The ring lies next to the lamp. All around is silent. Even the ear cannot hear anything. In the meantime, when it is the turn of the person who plays, he feels the ring and puts it on his finger. And then the light goes out.

In the reign of darkness, even the sighted become blind. Only the blind young man's joy does not end. But even in his noise and joy, the silence of the present haunts him. The feeling of uncertainty makes him uneasy. At first, he thought that such is the nature of girls that changes from moment to moment. Sometimes she is fresh like the morning dew, other times like muddy water. Sometimes smooth like a rose petal, sometimes prickly like a cactus. Although he always finds the ring on his finger, the finger feels different at different times. The young man is fairly certain that everyone knows everything. So what is the meaning of this silence? Sitting down to eat, the mere thought of this makes his bread get stuck in his throat. And from that moment on, not a single word is heard there. From then on, he spends his days in fear that everything will fall apart. The meaning of this silence is different this time, conscious. The reason for this silence is not poverty, not waiting, not despair, this silence contains something deeper. Without any formal agreement, they are all bound only by the web of silence. The young widow, her three daughters, a one-room house and a new kind of silence. Along with the blind reciter, silence is now a resident of this house. In this silence, the young man seeks refuge. He thinks that his legal wife is his bedmate, although her body is different from day to day, but the ring she gave him is on his finger. Young or old, smooth or very big, sometimes fat, sometimes thin, he has no responsibility to think about it. Those who have eyes, if they want to think, let them think.

Only those who have sight can be certain, and the burden of judging right and wrong is on them. He can only doubt about blindness, a doubt that only the sighted can resolve. As long as he is blind, he has no responsibility to be certain. What is the shame of the blind? Or should they also be ashamed?

Yusuf Idris