When Will You Return?

Tahir Naqvi is a short story writer. His short stories (afsanay) are published in renowned literary magazines of Pakistan,India and other countries since 1970. Four collections of his stories have been published two of which have received national level awards. In addition, he is also renowned

playwright and his drama serials and telefilms have been telecast on PTV and other TV channels of Pakistan.


When Will You Return?

Today I decided to sneak out of my home. In spite of being comfortable with my decision, my heart was beating fast with an unknown fear. Lost in my thoughts, just when I was ready to step out, my wife mysteriously appeared and asked the same old question, “When will you return?”

In no time I froze. I had an impending sense of failure. She looked at me with questioning eyes. I chose not to answer. As usual she remained calm while I was flustered. Even after leaving home, it took me a long time to calm down.

It was a daily routine. Whenever I wanted to leave home, she asked me, “Where are you going?” In the beginning I tried to be evasive but when I answered the first question on her insistence, she came back with the same dreaded question, “When will you return?’

In the beginning of our marriage I considered it a routine question of a typical wife and did not give it much importance. But gradually that question became my emotional problem. It resonated in my ears. It bothered me even when I was alone. Leaving home became a troubled event. While I changed clothes I dreaded that impending question. When she saw me getting ready she disappeared in the house but mysteriously reappeared the moment I was about to leave and asked me the same old question. I gradually felt as if she was taunting me. One day I got so perturbed I asked her,
“How can I tell you when I will be home?”

She suppressed her irritation and softly said, “You must have some idea?”

“No, I have no idea.”

She became silent but I could see her inner turmoil. Then I said with a touch of bitterness, “You are well aware of Karachi’s traffic and distances”.

She shook her head in the affirmative but her questioning attitude did not subside.

“How can I tell you when I will be back?”

I looked at her a bit annoyed. She looked concerned and said, “The circumstances in Karachi…”

I felt irritated and said, “Nothing is happening to the circumstances. You need not worry.”

“Why should I not worry about you?” She looked puzzled. I left her puzzled and stomped out of the house.

As far as I stayed home she looked relaxed and peaceful. But the moment she saw me getting ready to go out, she became upset. She looked helpless but remained quiet. I sensed her uneasiness and became nervous myself which became evident from my facial expressions. She remained silent as if afraid of something. But she could not resist herself asking me the same old question at the moment of departure.
That question became her emotional weakness. Sometimes when I was late in returning home I wanted to call her but the dread of her question made me scrape the thought of calling her from my mind. Whenever I returned home late, she did not ask any question but looked at me with inquisitive eyes. To diffuse the tension I said, “I had to visit many places that is why…”

She felt reassured and started warming up food or got busy with her household activities.

Every morning I tried to avoid my wife but I never succeeded. One morning she asked the same question in a different way, “Are you coming home straight after work?” I was unnerved by that question. I stuttered and said, “Sure, if I have nothing else to do.” She looked worried by my answer. Then in a fearful tone she suggested, “Then call me after work and let me know when…”. By that time my blood pressure had hit the roof. I could not control myself and said angrily, “Why do you keep on asking the same question?’
She looked puzzled.

I added, “I never ask you such a question.”

“You should ask it too”, she responded, “I would like it.”

I stared at her. I was speechless for a while and then I said in a puzzled way, “There is no need to upset people when they are going out.” She looked at me with vacant eyes and kept quiet.

“Are you suspicious of me?’ I asked.

“Why are you saying that? Why would I be suspicious of you?” she reacted in a gentle tone.

“Then why do you ask the same question every day?”

“It does not mean I do not trust you.”

At that moment it seemed as if she wanted to say something more but could not say it. She looked helpless as if she could not find the right words to share her feelings, her point of view. At that moment I became intensely tense. I tried to collect myself to leave home hurriedly before she asked the question.

Gradually, my wife’s question became my obsession. To avoid that question I started to avoid going out of the house. I only left when it was very, very important. If I wanted to see a friend to have fun I thought of the agony of the question and cancelled my plans. The more I felt perturbed and disturbed the more she looked peaceful and relaxed. She sat on the shore while I struggled with the turbulent sea. The more the sea looks calm on the surface, the more it holds storms in its depths. Whenever I faced her I was afraid she would attack me with her question and I would shatter. I became so afraid of my wife that she lost her charm. Whenever I sat close to her I was afraid I might get an electric shock if she touched me.

One Sunday when I was feeling suffocated at home, I felt like going out to have some fresh air. My wife was in the kitchen preparing lunch. I wanted to sneak out but the moment I reached the door I heard her voice, “When will you be back?” At that moment I felt as if she was no longer a woman, she had transformed into a witch who constantly stared at me. I looked at her baffled. At that moment my anger became uncontrollable. I clenched my teeth and screamed, “I will go where ever I want and I will come home whenever I want. Who the hell are you to…?”

She did not respond and went back to the kitchen.

By that time my mood was completely turned off. So I changed my mind and decided not to go out. I was in an intense emotional turmoil. My breathing had become uneven and I started to have palpitations.

At this time one of my friends was visiting from England. Because of my emotional state I had avoided seeing him. He had called me a few times. As I got ready to go out and see him I experienced an opposite emotion. I stopped for a few seconds. Those seconds felt like centuries. I felt something missing inside me. Then unconsciously I went inside the room and I said to my wife in a concerned way, “You did not ask me the same old question today?’

She was startled and looked at me like a stranger. It appeared as if she was standing at a crossroads unsure about which road to take. Looking at her state of mind I volunteered the information, “I will be back in about an hour”. She looked at me in an affectionate way and smiled.

When I was leaving home I felt lighter as if a heavy load had been lifted off my shoulders.