All the Masalaa of joint-family living...

A fictional story related as a leaked online diary in the voice of a contemporary,young, South African Guji wife...

Showing posts with label choti foi. Show all posts
Showing posts with label choti foi. Show all posts

Wednesday, 27 August 2014

Part 24:leopard print tights and ice blue eyes

I got there just in time, everybody was gathered in the front hallway, my FiL was standing at the doorway, remote in hand to jopen the driveway gate.

My MiL was not happy, she was adding to the noise pollution by saying aloud all the questions everybody else had too, no doubt.

"Zohra, nice to see you but you should have called", my FiL greeted his small sister, sarcastically.

Imraan's Choti Foi, Zohra, was the 'Black Sheep' of the family, I only met her twice in the year that I've been married, once for my wedding and again for a funeral.

She was a petite women with a flamboyant personality and a certain gruffness in her mannerisms that Surtis find to be so unbecoming of a women. Her hair was always kept in a stylish red bob and she always wore full make up. Her eyeballs seemed to large for her small face and slim features. She dressed in her own crazy way.

She had been shelved a spinster for years, living with Dadi until one day she announced that she was getting married. At age 45 she married Mogamet Ally Hernandez, a 55 year old widower she had met on MXIT from Cape Town.

 Nobody was thrilled but nobody tried to stop her. They knew better: Zohra does what Zohra wants.

They all comforted themselves that at least he was a successful plastic surgeon that drove a Ferrari as his everyday car and had a Bentley for weekend use.

Guji can overlook lack of Gujiness so long as status and money reign.

Zohra had caused another stir recently when she and Mogamet had announced that they were adopting two AIDS orphans.

I couldn't wait to see what this was all about, but I had a small clue...

"oh cut the crap, Haroon!", she said as she pushed past my FiL and into the house.

She was wearing leopard print tights and a black ruffled blouse that tied at her neck. What ever height she had lost in the gene pool was made up for with her pencil thin spiky red heels.

She got straight to the point...
"I'm here to fetch my mother!, Ma get your basics, you coming with me!"
Dadi started disagreeing, My MiL started protesting (weakly)...Zohra held up a hand...

"Ma please, your whole life is not here, just your sons are here...im sick of you being passed around one week here, two weeks there, from house to house without a home!

I spoke to Katie last night, she told me how you being treated, enough is enough...i took the first flight i could get, you coming to live with me!

Besides, Cape Town is beautiful."


Then Zohra looked directly at MiL and said, " Anybody who wants to see you, can pack their stale mootias as padkos and come visit you!"
Dadi looked shocked but not unhappy, she seemed relieved...
MiL rushed to help Dadi pack, Zohra told her to leave it...
"Il buy Ma what she needs.
 Ma only take what you want, the rest Kayroon can courier it to Cape Town for you, our flight leaves in 3hours."

Zohra's husband was waiting at the door, his tailored suit looked too fresh for somebody who just hopped of a plane, the ice blue shirt under, matched his eyes perfectly and the dark suit suited his pale complexion perfectly...

He offered Dadi his arm as she stepped out, lifting her one piece luggage.

Dadi turned to wave, "Kuda Hafez..." she almost whispered...

As Zohra was leaving she said to me,"don't forget to invite me for your baby shower!"
And just like that, they were gone...

shew! What a drama, we kinda all just stood dumbfounded for abit not knowing what to say...
my FiL rolled up his sleeves, shrugged and headed back to his room as the fajr azaan began softly in the background...

my MiL sulked away without a word...Shireen already had her phone in her hand and was typing fast, no doubt BBM texting her mother...

Muhammad Bhai quietly closed the front door, Imraan put his hand around me as we walked back to our room..."so when is this baby shower of yours?"...

OMW!!!baby shower! I had completely forgotten to organize one for Nasreen...her due date was looming...

Tuesday, 26 August 2014

Part 23: Car hooters and gate buzzers

On Friday night I didn't even hear Imraan come in, so when I woke up in the early hours of Saturday, I tried to wake him up to talk.

"its to early baby", he grumbled sleepily.
"imi! I waited all day and night tell me!"
"I'm getting promoted", he muttered into his pillow, he turned and was zonked out again before I could get anymore questions answered.

I smiled to myself...all that stress had been over nothing! At least it was good news, a promotion!Alhumdulliah, that's so awesome, I was so proud of my husband!!

I couldn't fall asleep again, I was too excited. I wanted to talk to Imraan but I knew I wouldn't get a word out of him in this passed out state, Imraan could sleep through anything!

I wondered if he would wake up when the babies cried at night...suppose if they were both crying, he won't have much of a choice, I guess.

I browsed through Facebook, read old feeds, looked at BBM statuses and pro pics, all in the hope of passing the time till fajr so I could chow Imraan's brains.

Finally, it was half an hour before fajr... I heard a loud car hooter, it was very persistent, over and over, it sounded like it was right outside our house!

What on earth was going on?

Last time there was such a racket was when the Memon girl from the corner house got married, but not at this hour!

Suddenly I could hear our intercom buzzer going off, over and over and over again...OMW! This was insane...somebody was trying to wake up the dead!

Imraan sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes, "what's the time? What's happening?"

We could hear the rest of the house come to life as everybody else woke up to the noise, it was scary and bafflingly. Like me, Imraan seemed unsure what to do.

He finally peeped from our room window, "looks like a hired car, GP plates", he said.
He put on his slippers, raked a hand through his hair wearily, "leme go see what's all the fuss".

"I'm coming with you!", I said, throwing on a kaftaan over my nightie.

The car hooter was still blaring, somebody, a women, was now standing by the driveway gate shouting for us to open up...
Imraan looked out again, "its my choti foi...", Imraan said in shock as he shot out of the room...

I looked out the window, the lights in other houses were coming on like fireworks in a night sky, people up and down the street were trying to see what all the ruckus was about.

Lucky me, I had front row seats!