The Express Tribune: Aalia Suleman.

“Baji I need to leave early today.”

 I was finishing my breakfast, a few weeks ago, with the morning paper in front of me when my maid announced, polishing the dining chairs with more gusto than usual.

“Why Shada? You need to go the market?” I asked her casually.

Shada has been with me for several years and over the time I have managed to develop a friendly rapport with her, given her cleanliness, punctuality and zeal to create a better life for her children. She lives in a small, three room house with her postal worker husband and her three young children. Both the husband and wife want to see their children educated and hence, are so dedicated and hardworking. Moreover, to be precise, she started work with me when she only had one child.

“No baji! Not to the market. I need to go to a wedding,” the usually composed Shada informed me excitedly.

“Who’s wedding?” I asked making small talk but still more focused on the latest news than Shada’s afternoon plans. However, her reply made the paper literally drop out of my hands.

“My husband’s wedding.”

“What?”

I nearly choked on my marmalade toast, I asked again,

“Your husband’s …??!!”

Shada was probably expecting me to react this way so she remained composed and waited for me to catch my breath,

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