Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m not a typical daughter-in-law, the kind you see in the movies and television dramas, but then again how could I be so sure of this opinion. I always had the luxury of my home and my space all to myself. I didn’t have to share anything with anyone. I have had my husband, my child and my life all to myself since forever.

So, when Fawad told me that his parents will be living with us in Karachi; it put a new shade to things.

Now, these were Fawad’s parents. I couldn’t say no to them and I don’t even think I had an option at all. After all, what would I do? Go up to him and ask him if this was a permanent situation or a temporary one. What was I supposed to do? I didn’t want to let him down and look petty and childish, but I had questions and I was feeling a little chalked out there. Shouldn’t he have asked me first? Shouldn’t I be kept in the loop? Is a woman’s existence so meaningless?

I decided that I would definitely put it up with him at the earliest opportunity.

The day progressed more or less robotically. We started preparations to get back to Karachi. I helped out mom and dad to pack; all the while stewing inside. I was bubbling with trepidation.

Fawad could sense my mood and was steering clear of my way. This made me feel even worse. I didn’t mind his family coming to stay with us. What bothered me was the way he planned it all. As if he didn’t trust me. As if he knew I would make a big deal about it. He treated me like a nobody and that hurt deeply.

Girls and women in our culture are treated as nobodies for the major part of their lives. They are hardly given validation for their actions and presence. From the day they are born they are second class citizens. They have to fight for anything and everything in the face of the planet. Does this cycle never end? Will I never be given a space and a time to say what I want and what I think?

I know I was being overdramatic, but I couldn’t help myself.

I also hated myself for my thoughts but again you have to admit that some injustice had been done even if it was a small fraction, but it was just so unfair.

However, within a few hours some of the emotional upheaval began to abate. And my saner, more logical side began to look at things differently.

My alter ego was not too happy, of course. “There you go, Saima, rationalising the situation. Here you were feeling all let down and angry and you’ve began to soften the blow already. Now you’ll start thinking how much they all love you and care for you. How much they all helped you when you were comatose. Blah blah.” Was my mind never going to shut up.

This is how we all filter all our thoughts, isn’t it? I didn’t want a confrontation. At least not here. I could wait till we reached Karachi. It wasn’t that I was going to disagree. I wanted Fawad’s parents to come and stay with us. They deserved to be a part of his family, too. They had been separated for too long. What bothered me was the way I was given the information. As if he was telling it to a person who didn’t matter at all.

To be honest, I could hardly function with my mind in a buzz. I was aimlessly scrolling my Facebook newsfeed when I heard a gentle knock on the door.

“Come in,” I answered robotically.

“I hope I’m not disturbing you?” It was my mother-in-law. I jumped up and quickly replied that she wasn’t disturbing me at all. I asked her to sit down on the bed, she chose the chair beside the bed and I sat down facing her.

“How are you feeling, Mama?” I thought maybe something was wrong. Maybe she sensed my agitation and confusion. I immediately became worried. If she had indeed read my thoughts and was planning on cancelling the trip to Karachi then I wouldn’t hear the end of it from Fawad. I think my concern was evident and she smiled reassuringly.

“Don’t worry; I’m not here to scold. In fact, I wanted to thank you for the kind gesture. Fawad could see how unhappy I was and he told me that when he discussed it with you it was you who suggested that we come and stay with you in Karachi.” She paused and I just looked at her dumbly.

Why did Fawad do that? I mean, why did he make me the hero of it all? I couldn’t fathom his motives. Maybe if Mama was comfortable knowing that I had agreed she would be relaxed and convinced to come to Karachi. Is that why he did it?

I was suddenly struck by lightning. Not literally, of course, but metaphorically. I was hit hard.

This is the precipice where a woman stands as she reaches her old age. She needs not just her own children’s approval but the approval of their spouses to be in the life of their child. Their own child. The child that they gave birth to. The child for which they sacrificed their own life.

I just sat there smiling. A knowing smile. A smile that was now 50 years more mature. Yet even after this dose of maturity I had shrunk in size to a peanut. In my head I was beating myself over all my silly thoughts and notions. I hated myself for my selfishness and pettiness. I didn’t deserve the love and respect of this godly woman. I didn’t even deserve Fawad’s trust in me.

“You’re very quiet, Saima. Is everything all right?”

I was so wrapped up in my thoughts that I forgot all about my mother-in-law.

“Nothing is amiss, Mama. Everything is better than before. What will we do without you and your blessings? You mean the world to me and Fawad. I am very happy that you’re joining us in Karachi. I can’t wait for us all to be together.” I really meant what I said even if it seemed rehearsed.

With that she left and I felt a million years lighter.