1 a vizier's daughter - Hazara.net

56
A VIZIER’S DAUGHTER – A TALE OF THE HAZARA WAR
“They should have sent some cooked food instead of paltry sweets, that
was the proper thing to do,” the old lady whispered to her
granddaughter. “But what do they know, these poor village people? It
is just as well, perhaps, that they are so simple, they will give the less
trouble later on.”
Gul Begum made no reply; she heeded neither cooked food nor sweets;
the whole thing was a mere farce to her, and she paid but little
attention to her hosts, what little she did notice was not at all pleasing
to her.
“How dare Mohamed Jan send a bridal party to meet me as though I
were really going to be his wife?” she thought to herself. “He has taken
a great liberty already. My subsequent refusal to marry him will be the
talk of the whole village, perhaps of the countr y side. This is not at all
what my father intended, I am sure.”
With these ungracious thoughts in her heart in was little wonder that
she failed to attract her new guardians, and produced an impression not
altogether favourable in their minds; but Gul Begum would have cared
but little about that even had she discovered it.
The arrangements at the house suited her quite as little as did the
reception part y. The whole thing had been got up hurriedly, of course,
but there was a certain amount of displa y, and nowhere any taste. The
girl felt out of tune, and wished she were going home.
“Tell them quite openly that I am only here on a month’s visit until the
disturbance with Afghanistan has quieted down,” she whispered to her
grandmother, and the old lady readily acquiesced ; but she did not dare
to add that this naming of the girl on Mohamed Jan was a mere ruse,
though she knew that there was a private understanding to that effect
between the girl’s father and her supposed suitor. She had received
strict injunctions from Ghulam Hossain to do nothing of the kind, and
she would never have dared to have disobeyed him.
Three days the old lady stayed with her granddaughter, and then her
visit was over, and courtesy demanded that she should return home.
Gul Begum did not love the old lad y ver y dearly, but she dreaded her
departure. One good she certainly felt she had done, and that was that
she had established a rule that the girl should eat alone unless she
herself specially asked the others to join her, which, according to
custom, she almost always did; but she kept herself apart and seldom
spoke to any one.
One day she asked for a clean cloth on which to have her food spread .
“It takes away m y appetite,” she explained, “to see dirty cloths about
my food.” The woman giggled and got one. Mohamed Jan looked on
and said nothing. He did not seem over well pleased himself, though
the possession of the rifle reconciled him to anything during the first
few da ys.