All she wanted was to be his WIFE!

"I am glad she was not alive to hear the words because they sure would have killed her"; I thought, looking at the dead body of my friend lying in that hospital bed.

Three weeks ago I had flown over to India to be with her during her last hours. Now, I looked at her peaceful face and suppressed the cry that wanted to escape my clenched teeth.

She was born to an aristocratic family. Intelligent, witty, brilliant and headstrong is how I'd describe her. Full of laughter and energy, she always got her way. I met her during one of my trips to India in my childhood. We instantly bonded and  over the years we became best friends through letters, phone calls, her visits to London and mine to India.

I still remember her joy when she met her soulmate in the university and married him against her whole family's advice. They wanted her to finish her education and have a career especially since he was from a very mediocre background with no secure future in sight. I had my own apprehensions but her happiness washed away all fears.

The first time I saw her mother in law was during her wedding ceremonies. She reminded me of a hawk looking for a prey with her piercing eyes and a constantly stern expression fixed on her face. She scared me. I felt more scared for my friend as her widowed mother in law was going to live with her since my friend's husband was her only son. I earnestly prayed for her happiness and successful marriage with all my heart.

She tried to hide it but her financial struggles were obvious to me when I next visited her after four months. Her pride stopped her from confiding but I could see the blisters on her untrained hands that had appeared there as a result of household chores. The dark circles under her eyes revealed the secret of many sleepless nights. Her attempts at pleasing her mother in law every two minutes in conversation and asking her approval for every decision, left no doubt in my mind as to who was the boss in that house. It pained me to see my free spirited friend act like a frightened chicken around this woman.

I tried to see if she would discuss the situation with me somehow, but her manner suggested that she would not let anyone tread on those private grounds. I respected her resolve and backed off. The thing that satisfied me was seeing the sparkle in her eyes every time she looked at her husband. It was very obvious that he also loved her dearly.

Two months later I got the shock of my life that took the ground from under my feet. My mother called me to inform that my friend was pregnant. It should have been the happiest news but before I could feel the first oncoming of joy, my mother continued to tell me that she was going to die! I could not believe what I was hearing. How was it possible? Apparently she had a condition like cancer which had remained unknown till now but the change in her hormones due to pregnancy had brought it out and there was almost no chances of survival. Only remote chance was if the baby was aborted in the first trimester but there were no guarantees. My friend had sternly refused any talks of an abortion. She wanted to bring the baby in the world. It was the legacy of her love! She wanted this baby for her husband, for his mother!

She completed her pregnancy like a brave fighter. Her health deteriorated but her spirits soared. She refused to spend the last days of pregnancy at her parents house, the common Indian tradition. She wanted to spend every minute at the place she called her own, her husband's house. She chose the mediocre hospital because it was through her husband's insurance. She did not want to use her parents' money. She was through and through her husband's wife.

She gave birth to a beautiful daughter and died after two weeks. I had been with her as she peacefully took her last breath and closed her eyes. The doctors logged the time of death. Her mother in law reached the hospital a few hours later. The first thing she said to her son was, " tell the parents to arrange for her Kafan. Kafan should be provided by the parents". Kafan is the Muslim burial shroud for a person.

I heard the words and froze at the spot. Part of me was glad that she was dead, otherwise these words sure would have killed her!