A modern Pakistani adaptation of the classic Jane-Eyre.
YOU DO NOT HAVE TO READ THE ORIGINAL TO APPRECIATE MY VERSION. THIS IS A STANDALONE BOOK.
Blurb:
As an orphaned child, Jahaan-Aara is first cruelly abused by her aunt, then cast out and sent...
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Standing in the grounds, looking at the burned timber a shudder ran down Jahaan-Aara's spine. She wrapped her arms around her protecting her from the cold sweeping chill drifting from the mountains. Her dreams were true. Rohail Saab was trapped. He called her. It was real. Adila was now in a residential school. So much had changed.
Gul Bahar Khan called Jahaan-Aara into the main haveli. This part of the building was still intact. The corridors were dark, smoky with dust settled on the window panes. This wasn't the haveli that Jahaan-Aara first walked into where cleanliness was impeccable. The electricity was obsolete.
Inside the kitchen, the counters lay bare. Baskets were empty. The house was barren. In a corner by the stove, a small figure crouched in ball beside the fire. Jahaan-Aara looked carefully and realised it was Bibi Firdousi. Dressed in a black dress, her hands ware bare from mehndi and her hair frayed grey like straw. Jahaan-Aara made her way towards her and sat on the floor near her feet.
"Bibi ji? It's me, Jahaan-Aara."
With her weary eyes, Bibi Firdousi looked up at the young woman before her. Her hearing poor in her left ear, she saw the young woman's lips move to form words but little sound. Bibi Firdousi was tired. With Juffu and Thoona abandoning their post soon after Adila departed for the school, the haveli's responsibilities were on Bibi Firdousi's frail shoulders.
"Bibi Ji? Please talk to me."
"It's gone. Everything has gone." Bibi Firdousi held her hands out.
The fire ravaged the life and soul of the haveli. The curtains constantly drawn, the haveli was a dark pit, like a grave. Bibi Firdousi didn't want to live this life any longer, but she had nowhere to go. The house was a shell of its former glory.
"You left. You left, with no word and happiness died."
Jahaan-Aara hung her head in grief. That evening, on hearing the news of Rohail Saab's first marriage, Jahaan-Aara paid no regard for anyone, not even Adila.
"That small girl doted on you. You left Adila, with no word."
Jahaan-Aara ached with regret. She let Adila down who wasn't a part of the betrayal. She didn't give her a second thought. Bibi Firdousi let out a grunt stumbling to her knees. The pain in her joints was paralytic in the winter, she couldn't get out of bed. Bibi Firdousi walked around the kitchen like a ghost and Jahaan-Aara pursued her.
"Why have you come back? There is nothing left for you. The day you left, you took everything with you. Now there's nothing but soot, the stench of death and darkness." Making her way through the corridors it was clear the haveli was neglected. The chandelier was lowered onto the floor with a large sheet covering the precious crystals from dirt. Bibi Firdousi made her way into the study where the curtains were drawn and a candle flickered soft lighting into the room.
"He doesn't eat, he doesn't sleep. His shadow lurks around the house like a ghost. At night, I hear his wails of cries when he lies in pain."
Bibi Firdousi stared into the glimmer of the flame held high in the silver candle holder and recalled the days of laughter, light and joy sparking the house like it was a lifetime ago. But in one flash of lightening, it all went. The next day Jahaan-Aara was gone. Never to be seen. Adila questioned Bibi a hundred times every day but Bibi Firdousi snapped at her, angry she had no answer. Rohail Saab soon left the haveli as he had no answer for Adila: he couldn't bear to be in the haveli a moment longer.
