The Fallen Widow

17. Cry of War-Part 1

An eerie silence transcended the walls of Sang E Mar Mar Haveli. With his hands crossed obediently in front of him, Wajahat Ali bowed his head in front of  Dilawar-Baksh his heart throbbing in anticipation awaiting from the chief of Jahanpur's order. Beside him, eagerly waiting for the war sirens to blare from the mosque speakers, was  Uzayr Qureshi. His shoulders squared he watched the vein throb on his grandfather's forehead in anger staring at floor where a pair brown, dishevelled shoes lay spilling out of a black bag; the catalyst for the call of war. The deception of the hoax bomb from his brother, Muzzamil, an insult of the highest order. Allah Ditta calculated the arsenal in his head, predicting a battle between the two brothers, once again after nineteen years. This time, they were prepared in manpower and artillery. Standing behind the group of men was Shahgul holding onto her breath in fear. She couldn't risk a battle, not when there were only nine days until her son ascends the throne of Jahanpur. Last time there was a battle between the brothers, both households lost their sons, Shahgul was terrified of loosing her son. Her son was the last ray of hope she clung onto to rule Jahanpur.
"Maybe, if we deal with it calmly." Said Shahgul voice pierced the stony silence. Dilawar-Baksh stared at the shoes. "A besti! An insult. They planted a bomb! They tricked us! Do you think I am going to let this go?!" he roared with rage turning his face a dark shade of red. His fragile heart struggled to pump with the rage. With his hands clasped on the chair turning his knuckles white, he glared up at his grandson and Wajahat Ali. Uzayr read his grandad's war mongering eyes awakening his latent soul. His body energised with adrenaline at the thought of guns and battle. His shoulders squared, he lengthened his neck and stood firm. This was why he returned to Central Sang e mar mar haveli; for the thirst of war.
"We're waiting for your order, Baba Ji." Uzayr's mouth salivated. He emphasised on the respectful 'ji'.
"We will signal the sirens and the men will arrive at the haveli to be armed." he twisted the twang of his moustache with joy.
"Where is my son? Where is that useless son of mine?" Dilawar-Baksh yelled.
Not Shahnawaz! Shahgul feared. He was celebrating in Manghal haveli. He was safe. She couldn't risk his life.
"He threw everyone out of Manghal Haveli, Baba." Uzayr replied.
"This is not the right time." Shahgul approached her husband with caution. "Let's wait for our son's inauguration, let him take the throne of Jahanpur-" She reached out for his arm but he pushed her aside.
"My brother makes a fool out of me, he kills my dogs at the kennels, leads my guards on a blind chase, raises his voice against my son in a rally and then smacks me in the face with these shoes and you expect me to wait?" His voice echoed. "Do not interfere in my decision. You women are weak and emotional!" He warned her. "Only men can lead!" He raised his ringed index finger Dilawar-Baksh turned to his grandson who stood beside him like a lion, young, strong and eager to lead into the jungle.
"Prepare the guards. Today we will put an end to Kharagpur." He declared the cry of war.  With a jolt of power in his step, Uzayr glanced at Wajahat Ali who smirked with pleasure. Together, the men would take Kharagpur, kill Muzzamil, imprison the women and rule all of Jahanpur.
"It's time to finish off my brother and take back the land." Dilawar-Baksh's final decision had been uttered. Wajahat Ali made his way towards the chief and bowed before him taking his right hand and kissed Dilawar-Baksh's hand for blessing and pressed it on his forehead.
"May Allah grant you success." Said Dilawar-Baksh  
Uzayr followed and kissed his grandfather's hand and received a blessing.  Dilawar-Baksh looked at Allah Ditta, the man who stood beside him nineteen years ago and went into the field to battle with his brother. The day returned.
The siren's blared from the mosque, a wailing cry warning the bazaars, the villages to bolt their doors, pull down the shutters, take home their livestock and wait for the terrifying sound of gunfire. The following morning mass funerals would take place, but who would die? 

"This is wrong. This is not what I planned" cried Shahgul. "I can't lose my son." Shahgul made her way into the courtyard and ran through the gardens into the kitchen. There she found Ulfat in the kitchen huddled with the maids around her in terror with the siren blaring around them.
 "Ulfat!" Shahgul grabbed her arm. "Go, go find your son Nadeem and order him to keep my Shah-Nawaz away from the battle. I can't lose him, Ulfat. I will have nothing to live for." Shahgul pleaded to her maid. Razia read the worry her eyes, she'd seen the fear before.
"Don't worry my Choudhrani, I will warn my Nadeem. Your son will be safe." She promised even if means he needs to lock him in his room. The future of Jahanpur will be safe." Jahanpur depended on  Shah-Nawaz and Ulfat felt it was her duty to protect the future; Shah-Nawaz Qureshi.