omestic fiction is often believed to be detached from public realities. Those who harbour such cynical assumptions tend to forget that the private sphere doesn’t exist in a vacuum. On the contrary, the complex dynamics in our homes are shaped as much by the intricacies of the wider social fabric as they are by routine familial conflicts.

British-Pakistani author Shazaf Fatima Haider’s third novel, A Woman on a Suitcase, explores domestic concerns while remaining cognizant of their patriarchal underpinnings. Fuelled by this consciousness, Haider’s latest work doesn’t approach marital discord with the same lens as a routine Pakistani television play might. The pressures and pitfalls associated with South Asian, if not all, marriages are at the heart of Haider’s narrative, but she doesn’t pin the blame on either of the partners. Instead, Pakistani society’s outmoded beliefs about marriage emerge as the true villain of her story.

In A Woman on a Suitcase, Seema Hyderi is “unceremoniously evicted” from her in-laws’ house by her husband, Momin, with nothing but an empty suitcase to accompany her. The punishment, albeit temporary, is prompted by her “unsuitable behaviour” and comes across as a form of psychological manipulation. Momin’s house is a prison Seema has been caged in since marriage. A fleeting release from its confines brings her no solace. Seema cannot stake a claim to freedom as the blue Samsonite suitcase she’s perched on outside the gate of the Hyderi household contains none of her belongings. Much like the disciplinary action taken by schoolteachers against errant pupils, Seema’s punishment is disguised as an opportunity for self-reflection, particularly by her pusillanimous mother-in-law, consumed by patriarchal expectations. However, Haider’s protagonist courageously resists this form of indoctrination, using her suitcase as a weapon for her empowerment. Seema’s journey towards spiritual and psychological freedom leads her to new experiences and destinations. Her path to contentment is obstructed by numerous well-meaning detractors who repeatedly urge her to compromise her values. Fortunately, Seema does not surrender to their dictates. Instead, she embarks on a quest for happiness.

At first glance, Haider’s novel presents a familiar yet frightening reality faced by young brides who are woefully ill-equipped to deal with difficult husbands and in-laws. Marriage may be a sacred union, but it is often an unequal one, as women make most of the sacrifices and compromises. In her first novel, How It Happened, Haider explored the complex negotiations involved in choosing a spouse, albeit in a light-hearted, comical vein. A Woman on a Suitcase is a sober reminder that not all matches made in heaven — or air-conditioned drawing rooms — are destined for a happily-ever-after. A marriage can often be a battlefield where problems are quite likely to occur.

Seema’s plight is no different. Her mother-in-law seldom questions Momin’s actions. Instead, she repeatedly gaslights her daughter-in-law, unwilling to challenge the status quo — a fairly common practice with dangerous implications for the physical and emotional safety of women. Seema’s experience of marriage dehumanises her. She is made to feel “like a circus animal, watched, trained, rewarded for doing… tricks and punished when she failed.”

Even so, Haider does not portray Seema as the sole victim of a catastrophic marriage. In fact, the author does not shy away from presenting Momin’s perspective on their relationship. Momin believes that Seema “began playing the victim the moment he married her, even though he was the one suffering under her yoke.” Amid these contrasting perspectives and irreconcilable differences, their marriage appears doomed to fail.

Haider’s narrative does not dwell on the stigma associated with this failure. Instead, it encourages readers to view divorce as a vital step towards safeguarding the couple’s sanity.

Although Seema makes the courageous choice to walk out of her marriage, she does not emerge as a saviour for others grappling with similar dilemmas. Haider does not make her protagonist a representative of a specific cause. Seema’s choices are, therefore, inherently her own and do not carry a prescriptive quality.

During the course of her marriage, Seema is made to feel ashamed of her actions, words and desires. Art becomes an antidote to this shame, allowing her to rediscover her confidence. As she begins to heal from her traumas, Seema does not entirely surrender to the long and complex process of understanding the psychological impact of her marriage to Momin.

Throughout the novel, her primary focus is to escape and find whatever small grain of peace she can. Once she achieves some semblance of stability, Seema has a lifetime ahead to revisit the past and fully comprehend its effect on her psyche.

While Haider has been living in the UK for many years, most of her work is rooted in Pakistan’s social milieu. A Woman on a Suitcase is set in Karachi and London, allowing Haider to evoke the sights and sounds of her adoptive city with vivid descriptions of Maida Vale and Little Venice in West London.

A passionate revolt against patriarchy and its discontents, A Woman on a Suitcase is an intriguing third novel by one of Pakistan’s foremost chroniclers of familial dynamics.

A Woman on a Suitcase

Author: Shazaf Fatima Haider

Publisher: Liberty Publishing

Pages: 211

Price: Rs 1,495

The reviewer is a freelance journalist and the author of No Funeral for Nazia.