A Queen's Touch & Some Glitter

تئسواں باب - Chapter 23

تئسواں باب — Chapter 23
THE KING & QUEEN (?)

TIME SKIP
AUGUST - 2 WEEKS TO ELECTIONS

LYANA BRISKLY WALKED ACROSS THE LARGE UNIVERSITY GARDEN. Her shoes smacked against the loose gravel of the walkway, her hands typing away on her phone. Two simultaneous conversations was no easy job — especially when one was with a frantic husband and the other with a seemingly nowhere to be found best friend. Her hair flew behind her as the humid air tickled her cheeks.

The large Gul-e-nishtaar trees lined the large pathways. Their heavy branches covered in bright green leaves, puddles of water accumulated around them, courtesy of the rain last night. The smell of rain, light and soothing, teased her nostrils. Lyana took a deep breath, trying to ignore the entourage of security personnel behind her. It was a need after the recent sporadic attacks on political personalities and their families. Expected as the elections were on head. And the things were changing, for better or for worse — no one could say just yet.

Crowds of students stopped in their steps to stare at her. Lyana felt alienated. She felt naked under their gazes, while the guards could protect her from an attack, they could do little against the gazes that she felt and the way their whispers got under her skin. Brushing her hand through her hair, she tied the loose strands into a bun. Smacking her lips together as she searched around for the familiar mass of brown hair.

Using her phone as a shield from the sunlight, Lyana gazed around the gardens. Hoping to find Merzia's black and white polka dot tote bag on one of the dark green wooden benches. Retrieving her sleek ash grey water thermos, Lyana lifted it to her lips. Gulping the ice cold water, her brows furrowed. Cursing Merzia under her breath, Lyana continued to search like a mad woman. Just as Lyana was about to give up, her ears picked up the familiar voice next to the wall of the auditorium. The smooth, rippling english accent with the 'r' being rolled off — it was Merzia.

Briskly walking towards the large brick building with huge wooden doors and brass handles, Lyana sighed on finally seeing her. Her best friend was busy petting one of the resident cats of the University. That she had taken the courtesy to name 'Tot batot' after the famous character from a children's story.

"Merzia!" Lyana shouted.
Hitting her lightly with her bag, Lyana huffed.
"You could have told me your accurate location. Mein paglon ki tarah dhund rahi thi yaar!" [I was searching for you like crazy!] She groaned.
"Arey bhai Lyana — you should know where I am". [Oh brother]. Merzia shrugged.
Pinching her skin at her shoulder blade, Lyana sighed. Gesturing for Merzia to take a seat.

"So what has got you so stressed?" Merzia bit into her sausage and barbecue sauce sandwich.
"Everything. I still don't have a graduation outfit. And with Alamgeer's new schedule I wouldn't be surprised if he misses it," Lyana sighed.

It was true though, with the elections just around the corner, Alamgeer was busier than ever. He was leaving at late in the night only to return in the evenings. Take a nap, and then he was out again. In and out of meetings, dinners and what not. The last week in particular had been the toughest. One of the meetings he was at, had been attacked and the next eighteen hours had been nothing short of hell for Lyana. He was fine, but had been held hostage for a bit — until the current government had promised to fulfill the conditions of the terrorising group.

Merzia shook her head at her best friend. The woman seemed to undermine her husband a bit too much.
"Let's be honest Lyana! Alamgeer bhai probably has zero bones in his body that would want to hurt you. I just know it — these wise old bones have seen things in their day. He will be there. Don't stress out. Worry about your graduation outfit and the opening of your boutique. Also now that you and Alamgeer bhai want a child stop being so stressed. I need myself a nephew or a niece pronto!" Merzia smacked her bestfriend on the back of her head.

Lyana pushed aside Merzia's hand. She hated that her soul sister always made sense. Soul sister, yes, the two had early on decided that they were platonic soul mates. Nothing could ever change that.
"You're right. And you find yourself a man soon, make me an aunt. We need to get started on that khandani dost plan of ours," [Familial friends] Lyana took off Merzia's glasses.
Her practically blind friend, flailing her hand around in the air, smacking her on the face in retaliation.

MATURE CONTENT :
MENTIONS OF BLOOD, GORE & VIOLENCE

Alamgeer stepped out of his bullet proof SUV. His security team had already secured the location, assuring him that it was safe to enter. Wiping his forehead, sweat covering it, he took a deep breath. If anyone found out about what he had been doing, his father would behead him. Unfortunately with the said father siding with Javed, Alamgeer was left with not a lot of options. It was no longer about winning or losing. It was about proving himself as someone worthy of it all.

Nodding his head at the guards surrounding the large glass doors, he headed inside. Swiftly taking the stairs to the underground enclosure, he retrieved the mask from his pockets. The smell of dried blood, urine and decaying matter saturated the air. The dimly lit narrow hallways, with the yellow ceiling lights, Alamgeer shuddered. The place looked and smelt like death and fear. The tension palpable. Groans and cries of the prisoners locked up in the barred small rooms with no lighting and a bucket for them to defecate.

Escorted by two of the owners trusted men, Alamgeer entered the barely furnished interrogation room. With cemented walls, a hanging lamp, metallic table and a couple of chairs. The man in question, Sardar Shams, was the second most powerful under boss in the country. He was famous for his drug cartel and smuggling shipments.

"Alamgeer". The man nodded.
His fingers twisting the moustache, his thin lips set into a grin.
"Sardar". Alamgeer returned the nod.
Taking a seat next to the man, he placed a file on desk. It was a deal, a pass of sorts. It would allow Sardar to run his cartel without fear of being caught. In return, Sardar would have his men vote for Alamgeer. It was a fair bargain and both parties would only gain from it.

"Interesting. You know Alamgeer I have no problem exposing you wanting to make such a deal with me. And you know us mafia lords shouldn't be trusted," Shams smirked.
His hands toying with his sleek revolver.
"You know the kind of dirt I have on you Sardar—" Alamgeer retorted.
His voice, full of faux confidence. The man infront of him worked so clean that no intelligence could find loopholes to have him arrested.
"HA! You humor me. I'm twice your age. I know when a man is calling my bluff," he stopped.
Removing a cigar from its box, he motioned Alamgeer to have it. Taking one for his own self.

"But I like that about you Alamgeer. This air of confidence that you carry. I'll offer you a better deal. Think this through. If you decide not to have a deal with me— we will be good. If you back out at the last minute, I would have no choice but to dispose you. Now you're welcome to enjoy the show". Sardar Shams returned the file.
Motioning for Alamgeer to follow him.

He toured him around the complex basement. Series of prisons and torture chambers were littered around. One in particular had been lit up, the latest victim, sitting chained to the seat.
"This man betrayed our deal. This is how we deal with traitors," he whispered.
And then casually began the series of tortures. As if it was just an average Wednesday night. Nothing big.

He cut of the mans fingers, throwing a bucket of acid on him. His flesh and skin instantly melting into one large floppy mess. Then, Shams gripped his freshly waxed revolver. Shooting him thrice in the eye. A man of his, gauging out his eyeballs, placing them in a wooden box. All ready to be shipped out to the man who had paid the betrayer.

Shams wiped the stains of blood on his hand against Alamgeer's starchy white dress shirt. Painting it an instant deep red.
"Make a wise decision boy. Or you will end up like this fucker!" He patted Alamgeer's shoulder.
Whistling his way out of the torture room, leaving a gaping Alamgeer behind.

MATURE CONTENT OVER

⊱────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Ahad turned the pages of the thick poetry book. His fingers grazing the soft rain water stained leafs, the words written in black in, not as sharp as they had been when the book was first purchased. He took in the weather outside, light drizzle of rain covered the horizon, standing up, he opened the window slowly. A sliver of gap between the window and the window pane, allowed for cold air and some rain drops to enter. His eyes travelled to the cup of steaming hot tea. And then to his wife, who had long dozed off. Reaching out to fix the duvet around her, Ahad carried his tea and book to his library.

The large library - office smelt like petrichor. Of old pages and books, moist newspapers, freshly painted wood. The white large candles on the desk, were waiting to be lit. Under such strong thunderstorm, the light had gone out. And his library was the only room not connected to the generator — he of course liked it that way. Brought him back a sense of who he was and how he started.

Taking out a thin matchstick, he lit the candle, and under the orange candle light, Ahad began to read the words of Faiz. He had fallen in love with the brave poet when Gulaab had read out a verse from one of his ghazals. It was the first verse he had learnt by heart, and ever since a fondness had been developed for him. And now Faiz was a part of Ahad in a way he never imagined one could be.

He was waiting for Alamgeer to return. Although, Lyana had refrained from lodging a complaint against her husband, he knew it was taking a toll on her. She was up till ungodly hours, counting down each second for the arrival of Alamgeer. The large bags under her eyes, made Ahad feel guilty. That deep down in some way or the other his family was mistreating her. So tonight he planned to talk to his son. Force him to stay at home for the weekend, cheer his wife up.

Immersed in his book, and the flavour of the cardamom tea, Ahad relished the peace. The sounds of rain and hail hitting against the leaves of the large trees outside brought him comfort. He had almost in his trance missed the sounds of shoes passing his study. Getting up from the seat rapidly, his legs cramping at the sudden movement, Ahad shouted at the back of his eldest son.

"Alamgeer!" His shout was hushed.
Lest he wake anyone in the house up.
"Abu ap abhi tak soye nahi?" [Abu you haven't slept till now?] Alamgeer was puzzled.
"Baat karni hai tum sai. Andar ao". Ahad waved him over.
Running his hand across his tired face, Alamgeer nodded. Following the footsteps of his father into the study.


The large room was dimly lit. The shadows of the bright burning flames, added to the regal touch of the room. A tea cup on top of the desk, his father's age worn poetry book laying beside it. Ahad pointed at the lounging chair beside his desk, giving him a gruff nod.

"What are you doing?" Ahad inquired.
His hands playing with the thin embossed pen.
"What do you mean?" Alamgeer looked puzzled.
"Staying out so late. Leaving at odd hours. What is happening?" Ahad tapped the pen against the thick desk.
The orange flames of the fire cast a shadow on Ahad's face. Every fine line on his face, seeming deeper than ever.

"Work purposes. Like you say, keep tricks hidden. That's what I'm doing abu," Alamgeer sighed.
He had never hidden anything from his family. To do so now, was proving to be way harder than he had thought.
"Tricks do not involve meetings with Sardar Shams Alamgeer!" Ahad banged his hand against the desk.
His eyes narrowed as they examined his son. Disappointment swirling inside his orbs.

"Mine do. Abu listen he can very easily help me win the elections. In return he asks his shipments to pass unchecked. Its that easy!" Alamgeer tried to explain.
Ahad sighed, would his son ever learn? Taking a deep breath, he pinched his eyes, rubbing them.

"I hope this doesn't come to bite you in the ass. Anyways I wanted to tell you that Lyana is your wife. You seemed to have forgotten that. Spend some time with her. And don't forget her graduation. Oh also, tell her your plan maybe she can help you see some light. Now run along! I better find you at the breakfast table in the morning. This insanity ends tonight!" Ahad's words held finality.
He shut the door harshly, leaving a stunned Alamgeer in his wake.

Alamgeer stood up, exiting the room. His mind in a galaxy of its own. Trying to make sense of the events that had been happening around him recently. He felt that his father no longer cared enough about him, his worries would either be proved true or cemented when in three days all ministers would cast their vote — in a public ceremony for which contender they supported. He was already at the end of his patience. He could only hope nothing pushed him over the edge. Its consequences — no one would be able to bear.

⊱────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Two days later, Sunday, the whole family was up at the crack of dawn. It was the most important day for Alamgeer, the day that would cement his position as a worthy opponent. His party had nominated both him and Javed as potential Prime Ministers. Whereas, there were four other nominees. Badar Bakhtaar, Salar Shafi, Sami Khan and Sumaira Butt. Yes a female had also been nominated, and there were high hopes that if she did not end up as the prime minister, she would surely be the province's chief minister.

The event would be a live broadcast. All news channels would be showing it live from the venue, only the ministers had been asked to attend. Everyone in the family smiled at Ahad as he left after breakfast, his eyes filled with determination.

Lyana could sense that there was a slightly tense atmosphere between Alamgeer and Ahad. While the two had hugged each other, they had refrained from sharing a lot of words. Lyana could guess it was about whom Ahad would end up voting for. He was currently the most influential man in the country and if he chose to — in front of media claim that he had not voted for his own son, Alamgeer could very well kiss his career goodbye before it even began.

Lyana rubbed his arm softly. Smiling slowly at Gulaab who had also sensed some tension in the air. The large O-LED TV, with its vivid colour and loud speakers, was switched on. They were tuned into one of many news channels. The anchors were busy describing the set up of the location. Awaiting the arrival of the ministers.

"You'll win Alamgeer. Abu will support you," Lyana kissed his bicep, slyly.
Alamgeer looked down at her, nodding his head. Dropping a soft kiss on her forehead. He knew he had not been fair to Lyana these past few days. But time was of the essence.
"If you belive in me so much, I might just end up winning. But if abu sides with Javed bhai today— all hell will break loose," his words cut through her.
Infront of her was not the man she had married, but someone different. Completely unknown to her. Nothing short of a stranger.

Before Lyana could reply, the national anthem began to play. Signalling the start of the ceremony. All the ministers in their crisply ironed white shalwaar kameez, stood on the makeshift stage. Behind them the pictures of the six candidates. There was going to be a live count. And everyone's breaths were limited as they waited in anticipation.

There was a total of twenty-seven ministers. Twenty-seven votes would be cast today. Each one, heavier than the other. After this, each candidate that made it to the top three, would be appearing in Islamabad, at the D-chowk to address the crowd. That would be their last chance. It was all finally coming to the climax, everything they had worked.

"Ab baari hai Ahad Ishfaq sahab ki. Inkay liye yeh bohat aham hai. Eik taraf hai beta tou dusti taraf hai behan ka beta!" [Now it is the turn of sir Ahad Ishfaq. For him it is very important. One one side it is his son on the other, his sister's son!] The news caster, sitting inside the media headquarters spoke up.
It was meant to add a bit of drama into the situation. As Ahad rushed up the stairs, smiling at the media personnel infront of them.

Ahad took a deep breath. His hands inched. He took a deep breath. Staring right into the lens of the camera. Blinking thrice. As if to assure his son, to calm him down. Alamgeer sighed, his fingers crossing, holding Lyana's hand tightly. He whispered a string of "please" under his breath. And then it happened. His father voted. And instead of his own picture lighting up, it was Javed's face that turned white. Another additional vote to his name.

"What the actual hell!" Alamgeer shouted.
His hand letting go of Lyana's, a maddening range in his voice.
"Alamgeer—" Gulaab tried to talk to him.
Alamgeer however, was not in the mood for it. It felt as if his heart had been ripped out of his chest. Stabbed multiple times. He could already imagine the smirk on Javed's face and the grin on Sadiq Ilyas's.

"Yeh iss din keh liye abu nai tiyaar kia mujhe?" [For this day abu prepared me?] Alamgeer all but shouted.
The veins of his throat on the verge of popping. His face turning red with rage.
"Alamgeer I know you're disappointed. Par abu keh paas koi waja ho gi," [But abu would have a reason,] Aryan spoke up.
Alamgeer glared at him, his eyes rimmed red.
"Chup. Yeh mera aur abu ka mamla hai!" [Silence. This is a matter between abu and I!] He gritted.

The room was filled with terrorising silence. No one had seen Alamgeer so furious ever. Even two years ago when he left, he had not acted in such rage. Gulaab's eyes were filled with tears. She held onto Lyana's shoulder tightly. Worried and afraid for her son. Alamgeer had been a sleeping lion and there was only so much poking he could take. She could only hope that he did not take any foolish step.

Just as the room was beginning to cool down, Ahad stepped into the room. His face was calm and collected. As if what he had just done was no big deal. Staring at his father, Alamgeer felt like a small child. One that had failed to gain his father's approval. One that had lost in a race he had been preparing for since the day he was born.

"Mubarak ho ap ko," [Congratulations to you,] Alamgeer spoke, his words dripping with sarcasm.
"Alamgeer—" Ahad tried to explain.
Alamgeer held a hand up, staring at his father with tears in his eyes.
"Kyun?" [Why?] He spoke in a whisper.
Eyes full of tears staring at him.
"Dekho Alamgeer mein nai woh kia jo—" [Look Alamgeer I did that which —] he tried to explain.
A defeated look on his face, a frown marring his lips.

"Javed bhai ap keh betay hain ya mein?" [Javed bhai is your son or is it me?] Alamgeer questioned.
"Tum—" [You—] Ahad was puzzled.
Alamgeer let out a loud, elaborate chuckle. Clapping his hands together, breaking the silent atmosphere of the room.
"Agar mein hota tou ap uss haram— I mean tou ap Javed ko vote nahi daltay!" [If it was me then you wouldn't have casted a vote for that bast— I mean casted a vote for Javed!] Alamgeer tried to keep his voice in check.
Despite the anger, he would not forget his morals.

"Alamgeer look at the bigger picture," Ahad touched his cheek.
"With you its always the bigger picture. Why is it never about my happiness? Kaash ap nai meri khushi ko tarjeeh di hoti!" [I wish you had given my happiness priority!] He screamed.
Wiping the red burning tears harshly from his cheek, Alamgeer ran out. Refusing to let anyone else see his tears. He knew his words had hurt his father, but why was no one feeling his pain?

Lyana stared at Alamgeer's retreating back. And then at her visibly shaken father-in-law. She felt as if she was stuck. She was powerless. She had no idea how she would help her father-in-law and husband at the same time. Each new day seemed to be tearing them further apart.

"Mama, abu I'm sorry. Alamgeer probably doesn't mean it. I—" she felt her own throat clog.
Gulaab nodded at her, gesturing for her to go after her husband. It was not Lyana's fault or Alamgeer's or Ahad's. It was the need of the hour, all of them had to tread carefully. She was sure that Alamgeer would find his way back to his father. He always did — and despite Ahad's momentary upset feelings, Gulaab had a hunch that he would be fine.

Taking two stairs at a time, Lyana ran to their bedroom like a woman on a mission. Her eyes were filling up each second, her sight blurring. Stumbling her way into her bedroom, Lyana took a deep breath on seeing the destruction inside their room.

The vases and sculptures in their balcony that overflowed with roses, white roses, lay broken. Soil and roots covered the usually pristine marble. Alamgeer hunched over his back as he groaned. Throwing the table on its side. Taking deep breaths.

Lyana slowly stalked up to him. Her hand resting on his shoulder. Alamgeer flinched at the sudden touch, throwing her hand off. Lyana felt her heart ache at his action.

"Alamgeer," Lyana cooed.
Her hand brushing his hair at the nape of his neck.
"Leave Lyana". Alamgeer controlled himself.
He would be snapping any moment and he did not wish for Lyana to bear the brunt of it.
"Why? Cry on my shoulder. I know this feels like the worst betrayal ever Alamgeer. But please let me take care of you. You're vulner—"
"I. Said. Leave!" Alamgeer pinched his nose.

Lyana looked at him in shock. Finding it hard to believe that this man was her husband. The man who had made so many promises to her. Now he was pushing her away. She was going to try to coax him though, she needed him to see his father's plan.

"Alamgeer I understand how you feel—" she was cut off with Alamgeer turning around.
Lifeless eyes staring at her, the chill in them cutting through her flesh and bones. Soaking her in it.
"You do not. You've never had to prove yourself to anyone! From your parents princess to everyone else's favourite. What do you know about struggling to see your father accept you in public once. Abu keeps saying he is proud of me but doesn't have the guts to side with his own son! Leave Lyana I want to be alone!" He grumbled.
His eyes noticed the hurt in hers, but he was too drunk on his own pain to give a damn.

"Be careful. I'll leave. But don't come to get me until my husband is back. Not some power hungry prick! Mein tou ap ko maaf kardun gi Alam. Par iss sab tabahi — jo ap khud kar rahay hain uskay baad ap khud ko maaf kar sakein gai?" [I'll forgive you Alam. But all this destruction — that you have caused yourself after that would you ever be able to forgive yourself?] She looked at him.
Taking brave steps towards him, she kissed his cheeks.
"Allah Hafiz Alam. Ap ka inteezar rahay ga mujhe," [May God be your protector Alam. I will wait for you,] she spoke in a hushed whisper.
Leaving their bedroom, their home. Back to her own parents place, with nothing but tears and a broken heart to accompany her.