Imperious

Chapter 24

Chapter 24:

'And never think He is unaware of what the wrongdoers/unjust do' (Quran 14:42).

Parissa inspected the attire of the women closely, as she placed a tray of snacks on the table before them.

One was wearing a pair of blue jeans, and an extremely short linen kurta on top.

They were the other end of the elite.

The educated elite.

The Westernised elite.

The other was in traditional attire, a pair of spectacles larger than her nose, covered half of her face. She appeared to be in her early fifties if not more. A little portentous, a little assertive looking, but quiet for now as her eyes scanned the exquisite interior of the Manor.

A man stood by them, dressed in trousers and a plain white shirt. He had perhaps accompanied them with the knowledge that these regions were not entirely safe for lone women. Not that the Jatois had a reputation for that kind of thing. But nevertheless, precautions were absolutely necessary in the rural lands.

Iqtidar's eyes uninterestedly scanned the man, whilst the women in the jeans spoke to him. He was not among those men to glare at the other gender. He was known for being considerably modest in that regard.

Parissa leant forwards and handed the woman a tea cup before standing back next to Ghazala, who was also here out of sheer interest.

Apparently there were more of them in the car, in the event that back up would be needed. A Mercedes was parked outside.

"Chaudhry Iqtidar, you do realise why we have been called here, don't you?"

Iqtidar sighed. He had been doing his best to ignore her for the past ten minutes, whilst Parissa served them carefully, trying to engage in short conversation regarding their journey and whether they would like any other refreshments. Ghazala too, had expressed interest in their arrival, and started a conversation regarding Sadia and what they thought of the justice she had received. But they weren't stupid women. They were here for a purpose, and they would try to achieve it as best as they could.

"Because of Sadia," Iqtidar would stand by his narratives, buy time. The henchmen required it whilst they hid the evidence of yesterday's event.

She shook her head, "No," she paused, "We stood by you all, during that time. We stood against that injustice. Now we are here to stand against another."

Ghazala drifted to her brother-in-law's side and sat in an armchair beside him, for moral support. This little meeting was taking place in the foyer, an open area. After all, what was there to hide? The Jatois weren't too keen on walking these NGO representatives through the Manor and into their living rooms either. They would be kept in the space that all visitors were kept.

Iqtidar sighed, "I really do not understand what you are talking about."

Ghazala nodded, perturbed, "We are just beginning to get over our child's death. We have lost contact with the outside world, barely stepped out of our homes, unless it was to the hospital or graveyard."

The woman in the jeans leaned forwards and then glanced at Parissa, who was now standing behind the seat that her stepmother occupied. She was incredibly still, and silent.

"Would you like some more water?" Parissa asked, when she found the woman focussing on her.

"No," she waved her hand, "Thank you..." she glanced at the table laden with all sorts of refreshments, as if they had been aware of their arrival, "This was more than enough."