The Fallen Widow

38. Race for Jahanpur- Part II

It was the day before the secret nikah between Shah Nawaz and Emaan. Shahgul left the haveli on the pretence she was going to the city to visit dai ama as her daughter had a proposal. Instead, she ended up in Bagham haveli taking with her plush velvet boxes of wedding gold, clothes and Shah Nawaz's wedding suit in clandestine. With Fiza and Malikah helping her, Shahgul was at her wits end unable to account for everything.
"I wanted his ruby red turban – not this." She threw his black turban on the table. She rubbed her right temple with her right fingers. She'd taken a handful of pills to calm her nerves, but it wasn't enough. Last night, she tossed and turned and left her marital bed worried Dilawar-Baksh would sense something.
"Ammi- calm down." Said Malaikah bringing in a box of bride's wedding shoes. "Why are you so tense?"
Wajahat Ali made his way into the lounge and deciphered the fear in her shaking hand as she sipped a glass of water. He loosened the top button of his black kurtha, his armpits moist with sweat. He bought boxes of brand new suits for the bride with matching bangles, chadors and parandas. Shahgul spent her life collecting the bride's trousseau.
"Where do you want this?" He held the bride's wedding suit wrapped in plastic sheet.
"On my head!" She snapped slapping her forehead. Instantly, she regretted her tone, but she was on edge since last night.
"There's more in the car." Said Wajahat Ali in a guise to send the excited girls out of the room whilst focusing his attention on Shahgul.
"This is it, isn't it?" Her voice quivered as she made her way to the window for fresh air to cool her burning face. She curled her trailing hair around her ear touching her gold chandelier style earrings that swung pinching her earlobe.
"I will finally be free." The sheer thought terrified her.
Wajahat Ali understood the significance of the nikah. It wasn't a win for Jahanpur, but the impact upon Shahgul was colossal. He unbuttoned his cuff revealing his silver watch and rolled up his sleeves. The haveli air conditioning wasn't working, the room was stifling.
"My son will protect me." She shook her head trying to convince herself. "He will be chief of Jahanpur and will keep me safe." She blinked long and hard trying to block out the painful memories scraping their nails to reach to the forefront of her mind.
"No more threats. Jahanpur will be my home and Dilawar can't humiliate me and throw me out." Shahgul blinked moistening her eyes with tears.

"He won't humiliate me." Her hand shivered as she pressed it to her mouth thinking back of the time when Dilawar-Baksh punished her for the first time. It was here, in Bagham Haveli her first home, when she married Dilawar-Baksh. She turned around and looked oak brown sofa, the oak foliage chipped from the corner. It was this room, the ivory walls that witnessed her humiliation at the hands of husband.
"How dare you disobey me! I told you not to send him to the river! But you never listen to me." Dilawar-Baksh strong voice bellowed in the room following a sharp whip of a leather belt on her back. Shahgul screamed.
"If my son dies- I will kill you." His large hands, powerful, pressing on her fragile neck bleeding the life out of her.
An hour later, bruised, battered and barefoot, she limped out of the haveli leaving her daughter Malaikah fast asleep in her bed, whilst two year old Shah Nawaz was in hospital.
"Don't you dare come back, you whore!" Dilawar-Baksh bellowed releasing his white dogs greyhound dogs racing and slobbering for her blood. A young, Shahgul screamed and ran, her ripped chador, torn and shredded on the floor by the rabid dog.
Wajahat Ali curled his hands into fists trying to contain himself. It was hard when Shahgul was like this, weak, broken, fragile and vulnerable. She only exposed herself to those whom she trusted.
Shahgul cleared her throat and wiped the sweat off her forehead. There was no time to rake the past.
"I suffered for my son. For this day, to make her son King so he could secure my home in Jahanpur."
Wajahat Ali remembered the day he found her walking barefoot in the cold winter night like yesterday. Driving back from the hospital, he made his was to Bagham Haveli to deliver the news of Shah Nawaz's progress. However, he stopped on his way when he spotted someone hiding in the fields and behind the trees. He braked his jeep and jumped out pointing his pistol at the shadow.
"Who's that? Come out- or else I will shoot." He approached the bushes.
"Now!"
There from behind the bushes a dishevelled, ragged woman he couldn't recognise in the cold, misty, dark night.
"Who are you? What are you doing out here so late?" He clicked the safety on his gun and pushed it into his belt.
"Speak!"