i s h t a r r i a........

It seemed as if the surprise element were far more excruciatingly shocking than what Dina’s usual composure could have contended with. Her face blanched in a flash; she swallowed hard and almost dropped the pot she held in her hand. “And what did you tell him?” she asked, ostensibly beaten by unruly anxiety the moment I broke to her the news of Martin’s proposal. I was on my usual weekly visit to grandpa’s house on a Friday evening, on the day following that of the marriage proposal. My parents and the boys, along with grandpa Mathew and uncle Sam, were all gathered together confabulating in the living room in front of the TV and imbibing sweet Iraqi tea. Dina and I were in the kitchen. I was relating to her the swift turn that events had suddenly taken, as I helped her with cooking dinner. I responded carefully to her question, sheathing my reply in an attitude of deliberate nonchalance, ‘I asked if we could discuss it some other time’. It was apparent that the news had struck her li