Divulging Remorse ✔

Chapter 12

Agha Jaan and Arshiya sat, having tea in the garden. Dusk was falling and the sunshine ebbed to a comforting warmth. The cold air blew Arshiya's shawl across her face as she gazed up at the swishing trees and the chirping birds; all set to return to their homes while the day was beginning to end. The shawl dangled loosely on her head and across her shoulder. She chose to come out that day because she knew that most of the guys weren't home but to be more careful, she sat at an angle from where her face couldn't be seen; facing the stone walls, opposite Agha Jaan. 

She saw a bird moving its head side to side, balancing itself on the branch that swayed in the wind. The bird was a brilliant colour of blue; the kind which could only be found in a bottle of ink or on an artist's paint palette. With a blink of her eyes, the bird was no more to be seen there, then she spotted it sitting on another branch. Within a few seconds,  it had flown off from there too. They just go with the flow, no plans or worries, just self-credence, she wondered. 

"What are you thinking about?" Agha Jaan's voice startled her deep admiration for the pretty flock of birds; the blue one in particular. She looked at him and he smiled at her warmly, his twinkling grey eyes creasing at the corners and his forehead crumpled as if showing all the grief he beheld inside, yet hid it. 

Glancing up at the sky she sighed, "I wish I could fly like that, freely."

He riveted his eyes up and implied, "They say, no one is free, even the birds are chained to the sky." 

It was deep, she smiled back at him and nodded in agreement, "Do you think birds want to walk like we wish to fly?" 

He let out a laugh while Arshiya had a withering look on her face, smiling at her own silliness. She quickly adjusted her shawl and covered her face as she noticed a servant pass by near the pool.

Still laughing, he studied her face and toned down, "You have a lot of resemblance to your grandmother, Arshiya," he paused and continued, "Just like you, she would cover herself top to bottom, not allowing any non-mahram to have a look at her, you remember her, don't you?" he sighed, his face expressionless. 

It was getting hard for Arshiya to figure out what he felt about the outright similarity; pleased or dissatisfied, she ought to know sooner or later. "I do remember her but what happened then, Agha Jaan? Why didn't our family follow her suit? Why are we... oh so liberal?" She politely asked him, carefully choosing her words. A feeling of desperation clearly etched on her face, it seemed as if she had waited long enough for her questions to be answered and this notch of an opportunity got her moving about. 

"I'm the reason behind it," he confessed remorsefully.

She got confused, "How, Agha Jaan?" 

He took a sharp breath in, "Believe it or not, when your father and uncles were young, they had lived a very simple life, your grandmother had brought them up adhering to the teachings of Islam, they respected her strict discipline, followed and practiced sincerely, until I had sent them to study abroad for their higher education, we...I mean I did a mistake. For when they returned, they were completely influenced by the dominating Western culture, something that can draw and appeal to anyone. 

Though your Aunt Kashmala had been protected as I didn't send her; I can say that it was the only thing which I did right. I hadn't rightly  built my sons upon a solid rock of principles and traditions, I feel my upbringing was weak and I failed to be a good father." His eyes brimmed with sadness.

"Rather, I always tried to go out of my way and give them what I had been deprived of when I was young; things which went against our native culture, more like social taboos. I never wanted my children to lag behind in the world race because of our so-called "conservative" Pashtun dignity.