By Waseem Mainuddin
[Ed. Note: This Story is a continuation of Zainab’s Zabihah and a piece of a larger collection entitled Madame Chowdury. Other pieces will be posted in the weeks to come.]
Beneath a bustling mustache, my big boned beta left behind little flecks of naan, his lips were stained in tamarind chutney, sweet and sour, but the teeth tasted of rot, little black holes devoid of matter, replaced with oil and candy, a sugared man will always end up an ulcer , far from humble, mother-in-law said it was good we allowed for polygamy, this one just won’t do, but the family owns the rice paddies , my successor quickly left with half of my gold, a handsome devil gave her warmth, but the fat man had clout and cut them both loose, be like the dark skinned one, without words she speaks, it’s a lack of posterity..a broken posture..she can pout over my paunch all she wants, but she’ll always be mine, but you, little girl, you just had to choose love, he held her lover over streams of shirk, keeping the piano wire tight around his ankles, when you held her up in the air…did you feel infinite? I bet that was nice, I bet that kept you both turned on, you know, if I squeeze this wire tighter, I’ll only hit the bone, he took my successor and bound her to a tree, wrapped tight in jute, he made her watch, made us both listen, you know, i get it, i sleep around, too…zigzagging between veins, her warm body had already passed out, and little motta shorra might just be talking to a corpse, but why did you have to do it with this one? I chose her, i knew the family she came from. they promise she never left the house. she was supposed to be my clean one, the thin razor lines reached ivory, motioning diagonal, but forward, trying to stay left, he could only keep it to the right, cortical confuses steady hands, it’s light and flexible, but tough like iron. truly, your bones carry strength , it seems like you love the cow as much as I do, your health is only making this tougher, cutting coarsely, like most men, he’s reached the interior, just to whittle, it’s spongy and soft, and my own husband wants to make concentric circles with his hands to reach more blood, I’m guiding silver sailboats through your haversian canals, my goodness! you’re making me tremble with that trabeculae, but now it’s easier for him, keeping steady patterns, a simple back and forth, the lover snaps away,he left the fair one for last, and once he put aside his toys, he picked one more up, an ax just for her, he kept her anointed, the pedestal had crumbled quickly, but he was happy he bound her to a new one, he was happy he could chop and hack, oh, i thought you had died like him, but did you see everything i did? aren’t I impressive like you? oh, you don’t want me to cut at your body, that’s okay. that was never my plan, breaking away at bark, he told me that she started to scream, I will let you fall like him, but I will keep you tied forever, you were supposed to be my trophy, didn’t you just want to be beautiful?