Trojan Horses

Motherhood is the strangest thing, it can be like being one's own Trojan horse. 

-Rebecca West.

Like all stories worth mentioning, this one is about a girl. Asha was beautiful, no matter how you looked at it. She was widely desired amongst men and boys in many different social circles. Her breasts were voluptuous, her hips wide. Anyone could tell she was sexually active. These were the kinds of circles were ones where everyone knew each other more intimately than outsiders could ever suspect. You could even say incestous circles. 

Every Friday night, the same people would be seen at the same parties. There would be dirty dancing while men in smart clothes served them drinks. Whenever Asha saw Khaled, her on-again, off-again boyfriend, things would get noticeably awkward although they always seemed to find each other eventually. It was like they smelt each other out, inevitably spending more time with each other than with anybody else. 

They loved ferociously, fighting with the same viciousness. Most of their fights were about fidelity, or the lack of it. Suddenly, complications wracked each member of their closest inner circle. Khaled, Simon, Vincent, Tabitha, Cynthia and Asha all noticed painful abnormalities in the form of cold sores in their most secret, sacred holiest of places. The girls decided they had to see the gynecologist, but none of their parents could ever find out. They each collected all the money they could manage, the most important thing was that none of the parents could ever find out what was going on. They were good Bengali girls. If anyone ever found out the truth, they would never get married. Khaled drove them to the doctor’s on the day of the visit. The girls were told that each of them had contracted gonorrhea, the dreaded clap.

The scene at the doctor’s office reportedly turned into a fight scene like in the cheesiest Bengali dramas. Tabitha and Cynthia asked Asha how on Earth it was possible to have contracted such an ancient disease when they had only slept with their boyfriends. When Asha sat silently, not saying a word, the other two got suspicious. She was the prettiest of the three of them, this had always been a cause of anxiety for the other two girls. “It was Simon and Vincent who slept with me,” Asha said. “They were both drunk and all over me, there was nothing I could do!” “At the same time!” Tabitha had heard enough. In a moment of madness, they began pulling hair, sending Asha flying around the room like a rag doll, she offered no resistance. Orderlies had to control the hysterical girls. High pitched shrieks filled the office, the girls held on to Asha refusing to let go.

News of Asha’s betrayal spread like wildfire. After her girlfriends stopped speaking to her, she moped around her house not daring to go outside. She broke up with Khaled again, resulting in him spreading even more nasty rumours. 

Asha told me on the phone that her periods became bloodbaths, with enough gore to rival the most horrible movies of the genre. Whenever she had to suffer through another one, she cried from the pain, she told me. It was weird hearing a girl speak so frankly and graphically about it. I felt like I was a friend she would never fuck. I did feel closer to her after she shared. Worried about her, I began calling her everyday. 

In those days, it was normal for girls to have landlines in their bedrooms. We would talk for hours, not bothered about anyone else on earth. “Listen,” I said, on a day like any other. “I know all this gonorrhea business has got you down, but I’m going to make this whole situation better, I promise!” 

“What?” screeched a very mature woman’s voice. I knew it was not Asha’s. It was her mother who was listening to us talk on the other line!

“Ismael!” Asha screamed at me, clearly disappointed. She had kept her secret all this time, and I had revealed it to the only person in Dhaka city who didn’t know. I hung up the phone immediately. What else could I do?

I had to see her again. All day long I thought about calling her back. I couldn’t do it after what had happened. All I knew was I had to see her and check if she was okay, after everything that had happened. I waited till Friday, then I drove straight to her house. I stood outside the door for a minute contemplating whether I should push the doorbell or not, dreading that her mother might open the door. I had to take that chance, so I took a leap of faith when I got the shock of a lifetime when it actually did.

“What do you want?” she asked. 

“Uhh...I’m here to see Asha?” I announced. Just as I uttered these words, Asha ran out of her room to save me. Her angelic face lit up as if all previous sins had been forgotten.

“Ismael!” Her angelic face glowed when she smiled. 

“Asha!” her mother said. She grabbed her daughter by the arm and dragged her into the kitchen in such a rush, she didn’t even realise the door was open and I could hear everything they were saying. 

“I hate him”, her mother said. “What happened to Khaled?”

“Don’t say that,” she squealed. 

She accompanied me to her bedroom so that we could be alone. After we talked, I took her out to have lunch and then we went to a matinee at the Cineplex where we kissed and held hands, and then I kissed her again after I dropped her home before we said goodnight.  

 The next few weeks, I was always at their house. Asha’s mother certainly noticed, and I took great pleasure banging her daughter as she sneaked around, trying to figure out what we were up to. This time, we were sure to keep a stock of as many condoms as we could afford. Going to the store requesting an exorbitant quantity was a source of great pride for me, I was even glad to use as many as I had at my disposal, making sure to put each and every one to good office.

“My mother wants us to break up, Ismael,” Asha told me. I was speechless. I didn’t care about what she had done in the past, or what anyone else said or thought. These past few months since she had become estranged from her friends had been the best of my life. I couldn’t think of anyone else I wanted to be with, forever. I was obsessed, all I could think about was when I would talk to her or see her again. It didn’t seem like she felt the same way. “You’re cool, Ismael,” she explained. “I like you, but we’re just friends. My mother wants me to do my masters in America, so I’ve been applying and I’m going to leave as soon as I find the right place.” I can’t explain what the impact of that terrible word friend had on my psyche, it was maddening.

“Friends with benefits?” I asked. She laughed, a weak consolation. She agreed to have sex one last time, to which I played hard to get and requested a rain check. Disheartened but determined, I left and went to my friend Nadeem’s house, seeking advice.   

“My girlfriend wants to break up with me,” I pined. 

“Why don’t you marry her?” he suggested. I was used to hearing girls given this kind of advice in condescending tones as soon as they reach the age of eighteen, but to me this was like a revelation. “Her mother is such a passive aggressive bitch. She’s always scheming. This time she’s convinced Asha to study abroad so she’s planning to leave.”

“You should get her pregnant” Nadeem suggested. I must admit, he sounded like a genius. 

I made an appointment and went to Asha’s house for our scheduled break up sex, the last act in our buding romance, except this time she had no clue I had sabotaged the birthcontrol conduit. For safe measure, we did it twice more.   

After a couple of months, thanks to providence and good planning, Asha found out that she was pregnant. The look of rage when her mother found out that I was the father and the reason for her daughter’s refusal to leave the country was my greatest victory yet. There was no choice, even in her eyes. We had to get married. There was no way she could get an abortion or walk around with a baby bump and no ring, so we had a shotgun wedding at the appropriate offices. It was only fitting that Nadeem would serve as witness.  

Today, fifteen years later, Asha still has not found out. I mean, I am happy how everything turned out, but I can't bring myself to even look into her eyes at times. She is still as beautiful today as the day I married her. She is my wife and we have three children together-two daughters and a son.