Sakeena's Bangles By Zahera Saed April-Sept. 1999 Lemar-Aftaab When I was ten years old, I had a friend named Sakeena who was the same age as I. At the time we were friends, there were six daughters in our household. My two younger brothers weren't born yet. She was the only daughter out of seven already grown and married sons. Sakeena lived next door to us, but her father was very strict so she was not allowed to play outside for too long. After she completed her household chores, her mother would let her sneak into our backyard while her father took his naps. There was a dried up stream which connected our houses. This stream was filled with water only twice a year, and even then it was very shallow water. There was a narrow hole in the wall of Sakeena's house beside the stream. It was only large enough for her to crawl through. My older sister had discovered it for Sakeena. Whenever Sakeena was assured of her father's snores, she would crawl to our side and play with us. My father often went away on business trips. To make up for the time he missed with his children, he would bring home a bag full of toys for each one of his children. He had built us a small playhouse in our courtyard. We filled it with the toys he brought home for us; small, shiny toy cooking sets, dainty cups made for dolls' lips, and ragdolls with sticks for bodies. Our games consisted of gathering leaves, berries, grass and dirt for pretend dinner parties. We carried the little dolls as if they were our children and we imitated our mothers to perfection. The day would pass with all seven of us in our own world. The only sound which infiltrated into our shell of make-believe was Sakeena's father's cough. This always warned us that the had awakened from his nap and soon would be searching for Sakeena. Sakeena's wrists and ankles were filled with beautiful bangles and anklets. My sisters and I were in love with her bracelets because we had never been allowed to wear anything which made a lot of noise. We could not even hum or sing in our father's presence. So, all six of us were dazzled by her musical possessions which we were forbidden to wear. To imitate her, we wrapped vines around our wrists and ankles. At least, in our make-believe world we could wear Sakeena's bangles and anklets. One night, we had to sleep at her house because my parents had to go on an unexpected trip. Sakeena's mother agreed to watch my sisters and I until grandmother came for us. It was only for two days. On the first night, Sakeena had taken off her bangles and anklets. Since everyone was asleep, I could not resist the temptation to wear her jewelry. I crept up near her sleeping head and said in a very soft whisper, "Sakeena? Sakeena? Can I wear these? Sakeena? I'll only have them on for a little while." She did not respond because I only tried half-heartedly to wake her in case she said no. According to my conscience, I had made the effort to ask her, thus I would not feel guilty for wearing her jewelry. In a corner, I slipped on her bangles and anklets. They felt so lovely on my skin. So heavy! But worth it because every movement I made jingled and jangled. "Ching! Ching! Ching!" rang out from my hands and feet when I walked over my sisters' sleeping bodies. "Ching! Ching! Ching!" walking and waving my arms suddenly made me feel important and meaningful. I stayed in the corner near the backdoor and swayed back and forth. I stomped my feet just a little bit and heard the bangles jangling against one another and felt the cold jewelry warming to my skin. "Ching! Ching! Ching!" in the midst of my music making, I realized I had drank a lot of water and it was time to pay the consequences. I was dreadfully frightened of going to the outhouse alone at night, but I could not wake anyone because of my minor crime. I gathered up my strength and ventured outside the back door alone. "Ching! Ching! Ching!" at least I made enough sound to scare away the jinni who may be walking around in her courtyard, or hanging from the branches of her trees. "Ching! Ching! Ching!" the sound made me happy and almost let me forget I was walking in complete darkness to find the outhouse. "Ching! Ching! Ching!" finally, I could enjoy the jangling of my movements like Sakeena. "Ching! Ching! Ching!" but why did she muffle the sound whenever she thought she heard her father waking up? And sometimes, even dropped them into a small hole on her side of the wall? "Ching! Ching! Ching!" did she not want us to play with them? "Ching! Ching! Ching!" did she think we would break them? "Ching! Ching! Ching!" all of a sudden out of complete silence, three gunshots rang through the air and sounded as if heaven had split into three! I tumbled to the floor and wet myself there! Sakeena's father shouted from the roof in Pashto, "Where are you going alone Sakeena? Get back into the house this instant! Why isn't your mother with you?" The entire house was awake because of the gunshots. To my complete embarrassment, all of my sisters, Sakeena, Sakeena's mother and, of course, her father would discover my crime! My trembling voice finally managed to say in Dari, "Uncle, its me Shirin Gul. I didn't want to wake anyone up. I had an emergency." "Shirin Gul?" replied Sakeena's perplexed father. "Oh, I'm sorry my soul, you sounded like Sakeena, and I lost my temper because she is not allowed out of the house alone in the dark. You should have woken one of your sisters to accompany you." Sakeena and her mother started laughing since they were the first to spot my terrified expression. Soon, my bewildered sisters were laughing as well, although my eldest sister must have been embarrassed of me. I didn't dare move in the midst of all this laughter. I didn't want to add more to the humor, like the damp spot on the ground safely hidden by my skirt. I stayed there with my hands over my face and peeked through my fingers. That night, I learned the mystery behind why Sakeena muffled her bangles or hid them. Her father was able to tell where she was as long as she had her bangles on, which made a distinctly different sound than the ones her mother wore. When grandmother picked us up from Sakeena's house, she was told the whole story. My usually somber grandmother laughed until tears rolled down her cheeks. I hid in embarrassment behind Sakeena's dresser until my grandmother came to fetch me. To my good fortune, Sakeena forgave me for wearing her jewelry. Actually, she said all I had to do was ask and she would have put them on my wrists herself. She was my best friend and this incident endeared us more to each other. At home, grandmother scolded me a little and then took me to grocery shopping. She said the punishment for my crime was to carry the groceries home. When we got to the bazaar we did not go near vegetables. Instead she led me straight to the little man who sold bangles and anklets. Too surprised for words, I greedily picked out bright pink bangles to fill each arm and then kissed my grandmother's hand. She was pleased with herself. She picked out a set for each of my sisters. When we got home and distributed the presents, my sisters and I were so overjoyed we could hardly contain our excitement. We jingled and jangled through every room in our house! We jangled our bangles over the wall to Sakeena's side and called her over. With so much jangling, Sakeena was able to keep hers on and not be detected by her father's sharp ears. Our courtyard made too much noise for him to realize that she was playing with us instead of doing her chores. My sisters and I knew this would last only until father and mother returned. My parents surprised us by arriving in the middle of our wild jingling and jangling. At first, father was furious and had his open hand ready to smack his five musical daughters into one ball of disheveled girls and broken bangles. We were caught red-handed and terrified of his anger, but grandmother saved us by a swift movement of her cane to stop his hand. Then quite casually, told him what had happened at Sakeena's house. To my embarrassment, she did not restrain the detail about how I wet myself from fear of Sakeena's father. Somehow her story worked to evaporate his anger and soon both of our parents were smiling. Our father granted us permission to wear the bangles and did not utter one word of complaint against their noise. But we all knew that once our glass bangles broke (grandmother did not invest in gold ones), he would not replace them. Years passed. Sakeena and I remained best friends. The night before my wedding, she shared the story of the bangles with the women and girls preparing the henna on my hands. She told it more colorfully than I remembered. I hid my face with my veil but I enjoyed the story as much as everyone else. Somehow, my husband caught the story as well. Perhaps his younger sister had related it to him. On the second night of our honeymoon, he surprised me with two sets of gold bangles and two handcrafted gold anklets. I was thrilled by his present. He said he wanted to please me and fill both of my arms from wrist to elbow with bangles. I now think these gifts came of the lesson he had learned from Sakeena's father! - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - This story was previously published under the pen name of Rayhan and was first published on the AFGHAN COMMUNICATOR Nov-Dec 1998 issue. Permission for re-publication was granted by AFGHAN COMMUNICATOR. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Other work by Zahera Saed: Kala Shoorw (short story) July-Sept. 1998 Copyright © 1999 Aftaabzad Publications. All Rights Reserved. May not be duplicated or distributed in any form without permission.