Doctors & Dignity: A Pride & Prejudice Retelling
In a culture which can be reminiscent of that of Pride & Prejudice, would you marry a doctor if it compromises your small town dignity?
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Jafer reclined on the garden bed of the terrace, relishing in the peacefulness of the moment. A long day of being a merchant at the local bazaar had left him exhausted and drained, and he was grateful for the opportunity to unwind. Propping his feet up on the bed, he let out a deep breath, the taste of sweet fruit lingering in his mouth from the citrusy goodness he had devoured minutes before. He shut his eyes, feeling the warmth of the Karachi sun on his skin, and through his eyelids, he could still see the light peeking through. But, he was much too tired to grab an item to provide himself shade, so he laid, quiet and still.
His moment of tranquility was short-lived. Jafer felt a cool shadow fall over him and opened one eye to see his wife, Amira, hovering over him.
"Mirza Sahab?" she called him, her voice filled with an excitement he knew could only be of one kind; gossip.
He let out a deep sigh before acknowledging her with a weary “Hmm?”
"Have you heard that there is a new tenant in the Khan's old house?" Amira said eagerly. Of course he hadn’t heard about the new tenant, and Amira knew it too. Jafer couldn't bring himself to keep up with the constant happenings of his town. He found most of it to be of little importance, and a waste of his time. However, having a wife like Amira meant he would eventually come to know of things like this, involuntarily and against his will.
Jafer clicked his tongue in annoyance. Stretching his arms above his head and shifting to his side, he turned his back towards his wife, and remained silent as to resume his relaxation.
Yet, Amira continued, undeterred.
"Shahida was picking up Irfan from school when she passed by the house and saw trucks carrying furniture of a rich kind inside. Of course, whoever pleased Mr. Khan to rent out one of his many homes would be rich. Shahida said he was wearing a lab coat too. He must be a doctor."
"Okay," Jafer responded, disinterestedly.
"You must go there with some sweets to welcome the new boy to our neighborhood." Amira told him excitedly.
"Why?" Jafer said, already sensing where this conversation was headed.
"It's important to make a good impression, especially for our daughters. Sumaya is already twenty-two, and people will begin to worry there is something wrong with her if she doesn't get married soon. And imagine if she gets married to that doctor. With a house like that, I can guarantee he makes hundreds of thousands of rupees per month. Oh please, Mirza Sahab, won't you go visit him?"
Jafer shook his head. "It's hardly even in our neighborhood," he said. "Besides, Sumaya is studying and wants to become something of herself. You would upset her greatly if you mentioned this to her right now.”
While this remained true, Jafer was aware of Amira's intention. She was never opposed to Sumaya studying and building a life for herself, however she believed that the money spent on Sumaya's education could be used instead for her dowry, reducing the financial burden on the household. Despite her concerns, she did not object to Sumaya's desire to study and make something of herself, but right now she was clouded by the idea of giving the household one less mouth to feed, and the neighbourhood one less person to gossip about.
Amira let out a huff of frustration.
"You never understand," she said. "But mark my words, Mirza Sahab, we will regret it if we don't make an effort to get to know them."
Jafer couldn't resist rolling his eyes as Amira stormed off in anger. The brief silence was interrupted by a sharp, angry voice emanating from what sounded like the kitchen.
"How could my own husband deprive our daughter of such an opportunity?" Amira exclaimed to no one, though it was clear to whose ears it was meant to travel. "If she doesn't want to marry him, I know at least twenty other girls who would!”
Photo Courtesy of Daily Pakistan
The next day, Jafer reluctantly made his way towards the Khan's old house, he couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. He didn't know what to expect from the new tenant, and he didn't want to get involved in any unnecessary drama or gossip. But he knew that he had to do his duty as a neighbour and a father to make a good impression.
When he arrived at the house, he was greeted by a tall, slim man with a warm smile.
“Assalamualaikum," the man said, extending his hand. "I'm Dr. Ahmed, but you can call me Taimur. Thank you for coming to welcome me to the neighborhood, please come in.”
Jafer shook the man's hand and introduced himself.
"It's my pleasure, Taimur.” he said.
As they chatted over a cup of chai, Jafer couldn't help but notice the luxurious furnishings and decorations of the house. It was clear that Dr. Ahmed was a man of means, and Jafer couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy. But he also felt a sense of admiration for the man's achievements and success, as well as his good mannerisms.
When the conversation came to a close, Jafer handed Dr. Ahmed a box of Ladoo, a deep fried sweet Amira had made and sent with Jafer as a gift.
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"Thank you for your hospitality," Jafer said. "We hope to see more of you in the future,” and every step he took home was filled with relief.
The visit had gone well, and he had fulfilled his duty as a neighbour. But he also couldn't shake off the feeling that something was amiss, for when a poor man meets a rich man at the request of his wife, the meeting is more than just a matter of two individuals; but a collision of two worlds, two sets of values, and two different ways of life.
