BIGAMY

The telegram was lying on the table. It read: "Susan! My brother died last Friday. Family suggested I marry my sister-in-law. I agreed. Date not decided. Hope you and Michael are well. Miss you. Saif."

         "Bastard." I murmured to myself. "How can he do this to me."

         I called my travel agent and booked the next flight to Pakistan. I found out that the minimum time I could spend there was a week because there were only weekly direct flights between Toronto and Lahore, Pakistan.

         I sent a telegram to Saif informing him of my arrival. I had always wanted to visit India and Pakistan but I had never dreamt that I would be visiting Pakistan under these circumstances.

         I consulted my lawyer who informed me that bigamy was illegal according to the Canadian law. If Saif brought his second wife to Canada, he could be charged.

         I arranged for two weeks vacation from work and asked my sister to take care of Michael while I was gone. I told everybody that Saif's brother had died and I was going to Pakistan to offer him support. No one except my lawyer knew that Saif had decided to have a second wife. I did not know how to tell people. It was so bizarre, so absurd. It was craziness.

~  *  ~

         On the plane, I felt as if I was already in Pakistan. Everyone around me was speaking Urdu, Punjabi or Pashto. I could not understand a word they spoke. For the first time in my life I felt like a member of a minority and I could empathize how new immigrants must feel when they don't understand the local language.

         While flying to Pakistan I was reminiscing about the past ten years of my life, spent with Saif. I remembered our get togethers, our discussions, our ups and downs in the relationship and our dialogues about different aspects of life. Once he had said,

         "Susan! I don't think you should marry me."

         "Why not?"

         "Because I know you more than you know me."

         "What makes you say that?"

         "Because I have lived in Canada for ten years, I know your culture, the culture you grew up in. But you never lived in Pakistan. You don't know my culture."

         "But I am marrying you, not your culture."

         "My culture is a very important part of me. I have left my culture but my culture has not left me. You are marrying someone you don't fully know."

         "Those sound like lame excuses. I think you are afraid of commitment. You are nervous and apprehensive about marrying someone who has already been married and who has a son."

         "No, that's not true. You, I and Michael have been living together for more than a year and we are happy. Why do you feel you need a marriage certificate?"

         "So that our living together becomes socially and legally accepted. Michael adores you. He is so attached to you. He loves you more than his biological father. His father was always drinking. He abused me and my son for many years. Finally, when we met you, there was a sense of hopefulness in our lives. It was as if God sent you to us. I think Michael would like you to adopt him."

         "Okay. Then we will get married. You set the date, make the arrangements, and I will sign the papers. I love Michael and I love you and it does not matter to me whether we are legally married or not."

         So we got married and Saif adopted Michael and we lived happily, as a family. I was so used to living with an abusive husband that I could not believe that Saif could be so nice to me. It was hard for me to accept his affection. Small things used to surprise me. He would bring presents, take Michael for long walks in the park and make Pakistani sweets for us. He gave me back rubs when I was tired. It was wonderful. I was never treated so well. I felt like a princess. But I was always apprehensive. I always believed deep down inside me that it would not last. For some reason I believed it was temporary. My close friends reassured me that because I had been an abused woman, I had lost faith in men and intimate relationships. They encouraged me to trust Saif whole-heartedly. He was a sensitive and caring man. They told me that my doubts and insecurities could turn into a self-fulfilling prophecy. If I undermined the relationship, it may destroy it.

         And then the words of the telegram echoed through my mind like sharp daggers that pierced my soul. It shocked my entire existence; it was my worst nightmare. The loving relationship we had built was crumbling to the ground as if struck suddenly by an earthquake.

~  *  ~

         Saif came to the airport to receive me. He looked sad. It seemed as if he had not slept for days. He had been crying. I told him I wanted to stay in a hotel. I did not want to be surrounded by dozens and dozens of people, members of an extended family who were mourning and grieving. Saif respected my wishes and put me up in a nice hotel.

         After I recovered from the jet lag and got used to the overcrowded and dusty city I met with Saif for dinner. I was angry and very hurt. I told him off.

         "You bastard! How could you do this to me. You always told us that you loved us. You have been living with us for ten years and now you come home and decide to marry your sister-in-law just because your brother died. Have you always loved the woman? Did you have an affair with her? Have you always had fantasies of screwing her?

         "You never had the courtesy or the decency to discuss it with me or ask my opinion. You just informed me as if I was your secretary or a neighbour. You've treated me like an acquaintance and not your wife.

         "Don't you know I am your legally wedded wife and we live in a civilized society where we have only one spouse and one lover at a time. In Canada bigamy is illegal. If you ever brought your second wife to Canada then either you will go to jail or I will commit suicide."

         I don't remember what else I said in the heat of the moment. I was full of rage and I wanted to dump it all on him. He sat there quietly. He did not say a word. Finally I provoked him, "Don't you have anything to say?"

         "No, not at this time. I don't think you will listen to me. You are angry."

         "I am not angry." I shouted. "Tell me right now. I can't waste any time. I am not here to play games. I want to know the truth, the whole truth. Did you have an affair with your sister-in-law?"

         "I will come back tomorrow" Saif said, "when you are calmer."

         Saif left after dinner, and I cried all night long. I could not believe that my worst fears were indeed coming true. I could imagine any husband leaving his wife but I could not believe Saif having a second wife. I was also surprised that Saif was not perturbed by my anger. He even thought it was justifiable. The more I thought about him the less surprised I got. Saif was always a determined man. He always knew what he wanted in his life. He never wasted time in idle discussions. He had his own beliefs and he did what he believed was right.

         Maybe I should listen to him and try to understand his point of view? I said to myself. I was ready to be calm when he came to see me the next evening.

         "Why are you marrying your sister-in-law?" I asked him in a more gentle tone.

         "Susan! Marrying Surriya, my sister-in-law is not any different than when I married you. When I met you, you were suffering. You had a young son that you loved and you wanted only the best for him, but you were married to an alcoholic who was abusive to both of you. I felt sympathetic. I wanted to rescue both of you from that hell. My love for you and Michael developed later on. You were dating me for a year and living with me for another year even when you were legally married to Jeff. At that time you were practising bigamy."

         "But I was not sleeping with him when I moved in with you."

         "That was later on. For the first year, that you were dating me you were sleeping with both of us."

         "But at that time I was not serious about you, and I was sleeping with him because I was scared of him."

         "Listen Susan! I am not asking you to explain yourself to me. You are an adult and you are ultimately responsible for your choices and the decisions you make. You don't owe me an explanation. I am just sharing with you my point of view. If you get angry again then I won't be able to share my thoughts."

         "I am sorry. Go ahead."

         "My dear! You know that I love you and Michael dearly. I adore both of you. I was a lonely man when I met you and I am glad that you accepted me. Those ten years that I spent with you and Michael were the most fulfilling years of my life. But now I am at another junction. My brother Awais was killed. He was an honourable man. He was a school principal and one of the delinquent boys of his school belonged to a very rich family. He hardly studied but his family wanted him to pass his matriculation exam with distinction. His parents offered one lakh rupees to my brother as a bribe. Awais turned the offer down. He treated their son like all the other students in his class, and the boy failed. The following week, the results were announced and shortly thereafter my brother was killed. The whole school and the community have mourned his death. He was well-respected. The family were concerned for his wife and three young children. They wanted a guardian who could take care of the children. Susan! You have to realize that in the third world countries there are no government and social agencies to help such families. To ensure the well-being and the education of the children, the elders of the family asked me to marry my sister-in-law, and I have agreed. This type of marriage is arranged primarily to adopt those three children the way you had asked me to adopt Michael."

         "Would you be sleeping with you sister-in-law?"

         "Susan! You are missing the point. Why are you so preoccupied with sex?"

         "I hate the thought of a competition."

         "Anyhow the point is that I am marrying Surriya so that my nephew and nieces can have a half-decent life."

         "How much time would you spend with them?"

         "I can live six months in Canada and six months in Pakistan for a few years until these children grow older. Perhaps I will spend winters in Pakistan and summers in Canada."

         "Listen Saif! Such an arrangement seems bizarre to me. Do you know any other man who has two wives?"

         "Yes, my uncle has two wives."

         "Can I meet his first wife?"

         "That's no problem. But I thought you did not want to meet my family."

         "That will be an exception."

         "Okay. I will arrange it for tomorrow."

~  *  ~

         So I met Razia, Saif's uncle's first wife. She was a middle aged lady with greying hair. She had a graceful look about her.

         I spent the entire evening with her. She had a female servant, Nooran who prepared dinner for us. During the dinner I asked,

         "You gave permission to your husband to have a second wife."

         "Yes, I did."

         "Why was that?"

         "I could not have any children and my husband loved children. He was the only son in his family. If I did not give him permission he would have divorced me and would have married the second wife. I could not have all of him without fulfilling his desire to have a family, so I had a choice. Either to lose him completely or let him marry again and be indebted to me for the rest of his life."

         "Did he have children from his second marriage?"

         "Yes, one son and one daughter."

         "How do you feel about those children?"

         "I have looked after them. I have baby-sat them. They were, after all, children of my husband."

         "What were your living arrangements?"

         "We lived separately. He lived three days and nights with me and the same with his second wife. He alternated weekends. So we shared him equally."

         "Did you feel jealous?"

         "Once in a while. But I did not let jealousy rule my life. I could have left him but after twenty-five years I am glad I did not leave him. I still believe I was his first love."

         "What kind of relationship have you had with his second wife?"

         "We never get together. But if I get her on the phone while looking for my husband, we are civil to each other. We've never had any problem. She is glad that the children are fond of me. We share the husband and the children together."

         "This is all so new to me. I have been living in the West, and I could have never imagined this arrangement. It is so very foreign to me."

         "Susan! It all boils down to acceptance. If you care about someone you are willing to accept many things. And let me be honest. I only have a grade eight education. If I would have left my husband I would have either been on the street prostituting myself or I would have starved to death. Now I am leading a respectful life. I have a roof over my head. Let me face the reality. I am barren and in this society it is hard for a barren woman to live respectfully. I have to share what I have. If I had a university degree and I was financially independent like you, it may have been different."

         "Aunty! do you know any woman who has two husbands?"

         "My servant Nooran, she had two husbands. Would you like to talk to her?"

         "Sure."

         Surriya invited Nooran in and she had tea with us.

         Nooran shared with me that she grew up in the tribes high up in the mountains. In those tribes there was a scarcity of women and to marry a woman one had to pay large amounts of money. Sometimes one man could not afford to marry a woman so two men would put their money together to marry the same woman. Nooran was very beautiful when she was young, so she demanded 30,000 Rs. for her wedding. While other women in her tribe were asking only 10,000 Rs. Since one person could not afford 30,000 Rs. two farmers put their life earnings together and put 15,000 Rs. each to marry Nooran. She spent alternate weeks with her two husbands. She changed husbands after Friday prayers. Her husbands lived separately and had no direct connection with each other. Nooran lived like that for twenty years. She told me that in those tribes the children carried the mother's names rather than the father's.

         Unfortunately there was an epidemic of cholera in that tribe. Hundreds of people died and both of Nooran's husbands fell prey to that epidemic. In her old age Nooran came to the city and started looking after Razia. Both older women were happy living in the same house.

         I was intrigued, and amazed when I listened to those stories.

~  *  ~

         When I was flying back to Toronto a week later by PIA I felt like a different woman. I had never thought that one week could affect someone so much.

         On the day of Saif's wedding I sent him a telegram stating,

         "Congratulations on your special day. My lawyer will be in touch with you soon."