5 Chapter 4 Who's coming King Or?
You are a fighter, look at everything you have overcome, don't give up.
Little by little, day by day, what is meant for you will find it's way back to you.
Zainab:
"There are some people who are endlessly temperamental, just walk away. The battle they are fighting with isn't with you but with themselves, so it's best to just leave them the way they are. Continue with your daily work in the mansion and stay out of their family affairs and you'll do well but if you step out of line, it can lead you into great trouble. That is the best advice I can give you my dear" he said as if indirectly warning me and I just nodded in agreement.
Oh no! Not him also! The driver avoided my question leaving me even more curious.
After a while, I asked him another question that has been disturbing me since long and I pondered on it a lot.
"There's a man here at the mansion who has snapped at me twice for being late, which you've witnessed on that very first day you drove me here. Could you tell me who he is?" I asked, in the hope of an answer.
"Yes, he is the father of Rehmat and that's all you need to know". I was right, grumpy old man.
He didn't know who I was, so, for now, I won't push the matter further but that man-made me nervous - even frightened me. The way he raises his voice when he speaks to me is just immorally wrong. What is wrong with this family?
There was just one more question I needed to ask ''how about their son, where is he?''
I was stunned at my inquisitive brain. I've never let a guy touch me, let alone to talk to strangers without another person being present and here I am asking indirect questions with someone I hardly even made acquaintance with properly. I should stay away and remain the person I was before I came to work here.
******
For one whole week, I did what they asked me; not daring to refuse or complain in fear of how they would react.
It was Friday and all the maids, excluding me were off for a whole weekend. That wicked aunt felt no mercy for me? DAMN! What is her problem? I've been working here for days self-sufficiently, facing my family and I've soldiered on like a soldier on a war field, without any sword or shield; totally vulnerable.
Doing the only decent act that has facilitated me through the battle field, I placed my prayer mat on the floor in my room and prayed Isha. Asking Allah to bless me with strength and patience and to guide me through these troubled times.
Do these people even for the slightest second think of me as a family? See what money does to some people? They become greedy, selfish and look down at others who are far less fortunate.
Wide awake on my bed, I couldn't help speculate what will happen tomorrow. Straight after fajr at around 6:00 am, I will kick start my day with the kitchen first… yeah, that's a good idea I thought.
With my hands locked behind my head, I stared at the ceiling and contemplated how nice it was to be left alone after a stressful day. The room was small but it was peaceful, which allowed me time to reflect on life and its goings on but I can't deny it can become boring sometimes.
Even though I have come to Mumbai, I've never once left the grounds of this mansion yet and I'm beginning to feel as if I've been jailed here for a crime I did not commit. AAHHHH! Maybe I should explore outside on my day off; whenever that may be, I mused.
*Saturday*
I was woken up by the sound of my alarm going off at 5:15 am, with the added pleasant sounds of birds chirping outside on a nearby tree. Rubbing my eyes awake, I released a Cheshire cat yawn and whined out in pain how my body ached from physical exhaustion but like a trouper, I fought on without complaining.
Sleepy eyed, I dragged myself out of bed and wrapped myself up in my soft hooded dressing-gown that covered my hair. Picked up my toiletry bag and towel and headed towards one of the shared showers for employees.
10 minutes later, I stepped out of the shower feeling satisfactorily refreshed and ready for challenges ahead. Dressed, I prayed fajr then quickly but neatly made up my bed before leaving the tiny room to start work in the grand mansion; only to turn back to replace the long scarf I wear for prayer, for a much shorter and flimsier one.
15 minutes to spare, I walked towards the staff entrance and my eyes landed on the huge double-fronted gates at the front of their driveway, which is normally closed but today it was left wide open. Why was that I wondered?
"What's happening?" my inner conscious asked me but I brushed it away remembering what the driver told me. "Stay away from problems Zainab or else…" I warned myself.
As agreed with me last night, I started cleaning the kitchen thoroughly. Washed and dried the expensive utensils and cutlery assiduously and stored them away in their appropriate places cautiously; only Allah knows what will happen if I broke one.
With the kitchen, moped, cleaned, polished; even sprayed with an anti-bacterial cleaner, I bid farewell to the busy chef and started to clean the dining room before the chef's breakfast was served out by the two kitchen porters.
Lost in my own thoughts, a large oil painting of the family caught my attention. Beautifully displayed in an exquisite antique photo frame and wow! You couldn't fault how gorgeous they all looked. They had everything Masha'Allah, family, money, children, chauffeurs' in luxury cars and a mansion! not to mention a chef and two sous chefs. What else do they need?
"Erm, a better personality and friendly nature would be perfect, something money cannot buy" I silently whispered to myself.
Guess money cannot buy that eh? On the contrary, it takes away humanity in a human I imagine. One week; it was beyond my imagination how I survived this long in the mansion and I mentally patted my back. I never anticipated I would get this far.
"Are you done staring!" snapped the voice that made me flinch backwards away from the portrait; silently thanking Allah it was not in my hands, as I had no doubt in my mind it would've been dropped.
"I want you out of here in 15 minutes!"
Why is it each time she speaks, it causes a shiver to run down my spine?
Ya Allah! I think one day I will die of a heart attack because of this evil aunt of mine. The day I thought of not prying into their business, she made an appearance and starts yelling at me. Who wouldn't be curious?
"Yes, ma'am I will" I replied back in low voice, with my head down. It's not that I fear her but more respect. She's roughly the same age as my mother, yet nothing like her.
"Be out within 15 minutes and by 12:00 pm sharp, I want you out of the mansion and back in your room. Do you hear?"
"But ma'am, I still have…" I tried to tell her that I have other rooms to still clean but she shouted back at me.
"How dare you question my order!"
"I'm sorry ma'am. At 12:00 pm on the dot, I will indeed be back in my room" I nodded
How many more times will she continue hollering me? I don't know about the other workers but I'm seriously beginning to despise her and yes, I know it's not very nice disliking someone before giving them a chance but she's put this on herself.
She spun on her heels and left the room but not before smudging a finger on a nearby sideboard and inspecting whether dust was visible. Oh! the audaciousness of her!
08:30 am. Three and half hours before I had to return back to my room and she didn't say for how long? I mean, will I even be allowed to complete my chores? Oh dear, I have this feeling that today is certainly not going to be a good day for me.
I began to cogitate what was taking place at 12 o'clock, why did I have this strange feeling that something just doesn't seem right? I mean, why was I given orders to retreat back to my room like I was Cinderella herself? Is the Prince attending? I thought with a giggle.
Then I reminisced overhearing two maids saying that the whole family were going to be attending the mansion on Saturday… today! Is that it? But wasn't I to be encountered?
*****
Dining room cleansed and vacuumed; I just finished off hoovering the contiguous sitting room when I checked the time again "11:20 am! Ya Allah! Less than half an an an hour to spare!"
Hastily storing the hoover away, I returned to rejuvenate the duck filled sofa cushions by shaking and redistributing them in each corner; allowing the moisture to accumulate that helps retain its softness. Faux throws folded, items strewn about resumed to their appropriate places, including currying a few items of unclean Royal Albert Old Country Rose tea sets back to the kitchen on a tray.
Not able to do anything further, I was just about to hurry back to the staff quarters when I overheard footsteps and voices close by, "Ya Allah! This will surely be the end for me!"
Out of time to rush out, I had no alternative but to deceitfully slide beneath a small table located behind the door where magazines and newspapers were stored; tightly curled up and hidden by the lace tablecloth… I hope!
"Well done Zainab… Bravo!"
As the sound of footsteps and voices made their presence in the room, I began to feel the sweat building up with fear. How reckless and absurd of me, I guess this is what it means when they say 'curiosity kills the cat' I'm without a doubt I'm one of them – in fact, I'm their Queen.
Only able to observe their legs approaching, I was so thankful in being small built enough to shift positions; One of the benefits of being small is that you can fit almost anywhere 😉
Damn! My specs slithering off my nose!
"Rehmat, hurry up!" evil aunt's voice echoed throughout the house and I just closed my mouth from making any sound, while keeping myself still in the awkward position I put myself in.
"Hey, young ladies! Assalamualeikum! You are finally ready?"
That voice again… that deep and annoyingly scary one that makes me jittery and clammy whenever I hear it, the same one that has snapped at me twice already. Was it my uncle?
Being Saturday, is he at home? And what is happening? They all appear to be rushing around like headless chickens as if they're judges to a reality programme. Who is he? King or President that they all had to wait for him?
***
Understand that everyone has imperfections, there are people who have loved you with your imperfections, why is it that you cant be patient with their imperfections? We always complain but human beings aren't meant to be best all times, we are meant to make ourselves better every day yeah?
