Imperious

Chapter 7

And those who control their anger, are friends of Allah. (Quran 3: 134).

A white Pajero vroomed onto the gravel path.

Two servants carefully observed its positioning in the drive way, their hands propping up two large parasols.

Farasat Ali Jatoi stepped out of the car in smooth, swift movements. He was a tall, long-legged man of a fair complexion. The elder Jatoi was rather handsome, his sagacious emerald eyes and dark brown hair, a feudal fantasy for the feudal women of his youth.

His younger brother, Iqtidar Ali Jatoi, bore no resemblance to him. His skin was darker, his hair blacker and he was average in height. In both appearance and nature, they were contrary to one another. The thin lips, sharp noses and round face were subtle indicators of their brotherhood.

In his right arm, Farasat clutched his five year old granddaughter, Inaya.

Her head was resting against his shoulder in defeat. She had met him months ago and she recognised him as her grandfather but despite this, had been unwilling to go with him. Then he promised her a reunion with his mother and such an offer could not be refused. The familiarity of his face kept her rooted. He had given her a lollipop.

The Jatois' family lawyer, Hanif Rafiq took his place beside them, under the parasol. Iqtidar rolled up the sleeves of his white shalwar kameez and scratched his uncombed beard. Farasat breathed in the heavy scent of his homeland.

"Asalaam-o-Alaikum Chaudhry Farasat and Chaudhry Iqtidar," the Gardner bowed to them before taking up his shovel and proceeding to clearing the rest of the weeds.

The Jatoi brothers advanced towards the Manor, the servants quickening their pace so that the parasol remained above their masters.

"Chaudhry Sahib, things have been tense but Badhi Begum handled them," uttered the first servant, referring to Sarwat Begum. Deema Begum was formally known as Chhoti Begum.

Iqtidar acknowledged his opinion very briefly before pushing aside the courtyard door with his fist.

Farasat charged into the foyer with Inaya clasped in his arms.

His brother followed him, turning to face the entirety of the Jatoi family, assembled in the foyer waiting to greet them.

"Fara..." Sarwat Begum's lips parted at the sight of her great-granddaughter.

With ease, Inaya slid from his arms and down his leg before crouching onto the floor in disorientation. Her big brown eyes consumed the entire family with increasing confusion, a fretfulness forming on the edges of her pink lips.

She burst into tears.

Marwah hurried over to the child. Lowering herself to Inaya's level, she took in her into an embrace before rising with her.

Mehrisa approached her aunt in desperate need of wanting to hold her niece too. Parissa and Nafeesa wearily followed, worried about the consequences Sadia's burn may have had on Inaya's emotional state. She was unwilling to go to anyone. And this was to be expected.

Inaya raised her head again. She recognised Nafeesa as a playmate she had been with days before. With great eagerness, she stretched out towards her.

Nafeesa took her carefully.

"Where is Zubeda?" Farasat's eyes scanned the foyer for his first wife.

"At the hospital. Kali Begum is also here," replied his mother.

"And how is Sadia?"

"I shall not lie. Her condition is far from good," admitted Sarwat Begum. She refused to keep anyone in the myriad of false hopes. Even the forlorn faces of her granddaughters could not force a lie out of her lips. It was better that they strenghtened themselves now so that they were harder to break later.