Straightening Ali (5 page)

“
I don’t care what happened to Imran. Stop talking rubbish and go away. I’m your older brother, so show me a little respect!” Ali yelled. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself, remembering that it was not Aneesa that he was angry at but the rest of the family.

“
You must remember what happened to cousin Imran? They took him to Pakistan last year and look who he ended up marrying. They told him that she was beautiful. I saw her photographs, and she looked fantastic. Don’t tell me you weren’t shocked when you met her? She was so ugly!” It seemed Aneesa didn’t trust the verdict of the rest of the family about Sajda and was concerned about what Ali might end up with.

“
Aneesa, just go and tell Ammi that I am not going to visit Sajda’s bloody family,” Ali said, shouting in frustration.

“
You have to. If you don’t go, her family will be upset with you,” she said tugging the duvet again, not that it mattered whether she pulled it off now, as Ali was wide awake and sitting up in bed. “It’s tradition as well. You have to take some clothes for her.”

“
I don’t care about tradition. Just leave me alone,” Ali told Aneesa crossly. He loved her the most of all the family members, and she rarely did anything to annoy him, but today she had somehow managed to become the messenger for everyone, which he found infuriating.

“
Ammi says that she met Sajda about a year ago and that she’s beautiful, but then Mum thinks that Imran’s wife is beautiful, so it’s best to see for yourself,” Aneesa continued worriedly, ignoring Ali’s rant.

“
Aren’t you listening to me? I am not going. I’ve agreed to this ridiculous wedding, and I’ll turn up on the wedding day, but you can tell everyone from me to go to hell,” Ali said crossly, lying back on the duvet covers, his body tense and angry.

“
Why should I? You can tell Yasmin and Yunus yourself. That’s if you really want to upset them. Don’t go if you think you can handle them,” Aneesa said sounding annoyed. She secretly agreed with Ali that Yasmin and Yunus behaved like tyrants, but was too scared to say anything in case she got caught in the firing line.

“
I thought you couldn’t see any of the bride’s family before the wedding,” Ali said questioningly. He wasn’t familiar with any of the wedding customs, but he was positive that there was something weird about the two families not meeting until the wedding day once the wedding date was confirmed.

“
Are you thick or something? You can see the family anytime you want; it’s your fiancée that you can’t. Ammi’s sorted that out though. She was on the phone last night. She’s told Sajda’s family that as you’re a modern man who was born in England; they have to do things differently. So they’ve decided to bend some of the rules for you,” Aneesa said with relish at the power that her mother wielded.

“
Great. That’s all I need,” muttered Ali. He knew that he would have to go if his mother had already made the arrangements, but he wasn’t going to make things easy for anyone.

“
You have to go,” Aneesa said sharply, knowing that she had nearly won the battle.

“
So, are you saying that I can refuse to go ahead with the wedding if I don’t like her?” Ali asked.

“
Well, not really. It’s too late for that,” she said after a pause. “Look, Ali, if you’re going to argue, you can argue with Mum. I can’t be bothered. I’m going to call her,” she said, giving Ali an evil look and leaving his bedroom, loudly banging the door shut behind her, a trait she’d picked up from Ali when she was angry. Ali groaned as he heard her shout for their mother, and seconds later his mother materialized at his door with a sad dejected look on her face.

“
You have plans more important than visiting your in-laws? Why must you always behave like this?” she asked sadly. “You would not have behaved in this way if your father was alive.”

“
I’m not going, Ammi. I’ve agreed to the marriage, so why do I have to visit them now?” Ali asked, knowing that he was going to lose the impending argument with his mother.

“
You are worried, that’s all. I know you are nervous, but don’t be. Your big brother will go with you. I know you’re not happy driving on motorways, so he’ll drive you there and look after you,” his mother said, her voice changing from disappointment to concern.

“
I am not going! I have things to do,” Ali said belligerently.

“
You must go. I have arranged it. It is part of our custom for you to take clothes for your fiancée and to meet your in-laws. They need to speak to you, and make sure that you are happy with the match. You must behave when you go to see them, be respectful and don’t talk back at them. They are a very good family, very big in our community. Please don’t do anything to bring shame on us when you visit them,” Ali’s mother instructed, ignoring his protest.

“
Well, I’m not going with Yunus. I can make my own way there. He hates me,” Ali said finally getting up from the bed. He was wearing a grey kurta salwar suit that his grandmother had sent him from Pakistan, but which he used instead of pajamas. His mother looked at the suit and shook her head, silently wondering why her son was ruining such a perfectly good outfit by sleeping in it.

“
Yunus is the head of the family, so he must go with you. We have to be respectful, son. I cannot send you to their house on your own or they will feel insulted. What would people say?” Ali’s mother said kissing him on his forehead. “Get ready, or you will be late, and it will not create a good first impression.”

Ali flung the duvet onto the floor defiantly and stormed out of the bedroom. Copying Aneesa, he banged the door shut behind him for effect. “Great, another thing you’re making me do. When are you all going to stop,” he yelled as he headed for the shower in defeat.

Ali hurriedly shaved, then showered quickly in the hope of avoiding Yunus. He rushed out of the bathroom to his bedroom to find a black suit neatly laid out for him on the bed. He felt slightly irritated that his mother had been through his wardrobe and picked out an outfit for him to wear. “Fantastic,” he muttered, noticing that she’d even put out his underwear, socks and tie. It was as if he wasn’t even allowed to make the smallest decision for himself anymore.

Ali quickly got dressed, choosing a different tie as a small act of rebellion, then rushed down the stairs, seeing if he could get away without anyone noticing.

There was no chance. Yunus was already dressed and waiting for him in the lounge. It seemed that Ali’s mother had made sure she had roused him before Ali, knowing that he might try to make a quick exit. There was no way that Ali was getting away.

The suit that Yunus wore was identical to Ali’s except for the ties, making Ali groan. Despite the age difference of four years between the two brothers, his mother had still attempted to dress them the same, just as she had done when they were young.

“
Shall I make you breakfast before you go?” his mother asked. “I can cook you some aloo paratha.”

“
It’s okay, Ammi, I’m not hungry,” Ali said. All of a sudden, he felt very anxious about meeting his in-laws and unsure whether he would be able to keep his food down if he ate.

Ali felt rather strange. He knew that he didn’t want to marry, but at the same time, he didn’t want to let his family down. His mind seemed to be in conflict, but instead of attempting to evaluate his feelings about the subject, he decided then it was best to try to block them out for now and consider them later.

“
I have made some samosas for you in case you get hungry on the way,” his mother said handing him a plastic food container containing the triangle shaped pastries filled with spicy mixed vegetables and potato.

“
Thanks, Ammi, but I’m not hungry,” Ali said, taking the food container anyway knowing that his mother would force it on him.

“
This is for your Sajda,” she said handing him a large square box hand painted with floral designs in red and gold. “It’s the engagement present for you to give to her.” She took the lid off the box, and let Ali peer inside. He gasped when he saw what it contained. It was the most exquisite dress he’d ever seen, folded neatly. It was a burgundy shade of brown, with sequined jewels sewn around the neckline that glittered gently in the light.

“
You can get the general idea without taking it out of the box,” said Ali’s mother. She saw the look on Ali’s face and knew that her son approved. “It was hand made in Pakistan and cost a lot of money. It’s only the best for my son’s fiancée.” She carefully put the lid down on the box and handed it to Ali.

“
Thank you, Ammi,” he said trying to sound grateful as he took the box. Despite his reluctance to get married, his mother was trying her best. “What an ungrateful son I am. I should be happy today,” he thought, giving a smile to try to hide the pain that he really felt for his mother’s sake.

Ali’s mother kissed him on his cheeks before bundling him out of the house with Yunus.

“
Oi, faggot, you’re coming with me in my car,” Yunus said grabbing Ali and pushing him towards the bright red Toyota with blacked out windows that was parked in the driveway. “You can leave your disgusting rust bucket behind.” He kicked Ali’s car to demonstrate his feelings as he walked past it.

Ali sighed and followed Yunus obediently. This was going to be a long journey, and there was no point in antagonizing him. Ali got in the car as his mother waved goodbye. Aneesa and Yasmin hadn’t come out to say goodbye. It seemed that Ammi wanted to keep things quiet for the time being in case the neighbors were watching.

The car had a luxury interior that gave off a strong, leathery smell. This mixed with the stale smell of cigarettes and Yunus’s strong aftershave to create an oppressive stench in the car. Ali pressed the button to open the car’s automatic windows, but Yunus pressed the button straight away to close them again. Ali sat back unhappily in his seat aware that Yunus was deliberately trying to provoke him.

Within minutes, Yunus hit the M6 motorway, driving extremely fast and well over the speed limit. He knew that Ali wasn’t comfortable with motorway driving and rarely managed to drive up to the motorway speed limit. Taking one hand off the steering wheel, Yunus removed a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket and opened it pulling out a cigarette at the same time. He paused to light it with the car’s cigarette lighter and then took one long puff from the cigarette.

At twenty eight years old, Yunus still behaved immaturely when it came to his relationship with Ali, always competing and attempting to outdo him. If Ali’s mother cooked something special for Ali, then Yunus wanted the same. If she brought him new clothes or gave him money, then Yunus got the same by throwing a tantrum.

In appearance, Yunus was very handsome, and he knew it. He was obsessed with going to the gym and drank protein concoctions that he made up from huge plastic cartons of powder. He had almond colored eyes, which were rather striking, and his ability to charm the girls meant that he had most of them falling at his feet.

However, Yunus’s own marriage had ended after just two years, and no one in the family ever mentioned why. Ali had been living away at the University Halls of Residence when it had happened. One day, his sister-in-law was living in the extension that had been added to the house for her, and the next she had disappeared. She was referred to as the “tart” by his sisters, but Yunus had never mentioned her. Ali imagined that she’d had an affair and run away.

“
So how many white boys have given it to you up the arse?” Yunus asked suddenly after a lengthy silence.

Caught by the vulgarity of the question, Ali thought about ignoring it, but his annoyance got the better of him. “Lots and lots,” he replied. “You know, to be honest, I’ve lost count. I really can’t get enough. It’s like the best feeling ever, pleasure and pain all rolled into one.”

“
You dirty fucking bastard! How could you like it up your arse? It’s sick,” Yunus said turning to look at Ali, utterly disgusted.

“
You just haven’t tried it, yet. You should. All men should. When you do you’ll love it, or have you tried it already and can’t say?” Ali asked, doing his best to shock Yunus, but also knowing what the reaction would be. It was dangerous to wind Yunus up, but he couldn’t stop himself.

“
You dirty little wanker. I like women. Pussy! I only fuck pussy!” he said, punching Ali savagely on the arm.

Ali winced in pain and rubbed his arm. “I think you’re scared that you’ll like it too much,” he said seething with silent rage, his earlier plan of not antagonizing Yunus slowly falling apart. Yunus made him so angry that he shook with rage. Ali took some deep breaths to calm himself. It didn’t help his asthma when he got angry.

“
Have you fucked a woman yet? You must have fucked that slag you hang around with?” Yunus asked, trying to aggravate Ali further. Yunus was desperate to “straighten” Ali out. He loved Ali, but found him effeminate and worried what would happen if he didn’t help him to toughen up. Ali’s gay lifestyle shamed him in front of his friends, and he was sick of lying to them about Ali’s numerous “girlfriends.” “Why can’t Ali be a real man?” he thought despairingly.