The Fallen Widow

21. Exposed

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Making his way into the Central haveli in long strides, Wajahat Ali skipped two steps and rushed to the first floor to find Shahgul who was in her Zenana; the part of the haveli reserved for women. Ulfat obstructed the doorway to the private lounge with her stocky body.
"What do you want?" Asked Ulfat looking up at the tall man.
"I need to see her. I have important news." He reached out to touch the wooden doors but Ulfat shoved his arm away.
"You know you shouldn't be in the Zenana. She is having her treatments in her private lounge. You know the rules Wajahat."
"I have no time to wait. I need to see her now!" He pounded the door repetitively with his knuckles.
"Choudhrani, I need to speak to you now. Quickly!" His tone urgent.
"Later!" Called Shahgul from inside.
"It can't wait!" He continued to knock the door.

Moments later, the maids were ushered prematurely out of the lounge as Shahgul reluctantly allowed him to enter. With her hands heavy and wet with henna patterns, the maids draped a white chiffon dupatta over her oily tresses. They'd relaxed her with a head massage and treated her air with a concoction of Jasmine, mustard and lavender hair oils. She removed her feet from the rose water filled bowl, cloudy with dash of coconut milk and stood on the foot towel. The maid patted her feet dry and dressed her pink slippers.
"Let him in." She ordered Ulfat who noted the irritation in her tone.
"I'm sorry to barge in, but this is important!" With his eyes pinned to the ground, Wajahat Ali marched into the private lounge when an overwhelming scent of lavender oil assaulted his nostrils. The room was sweetly scented with vanilla rose from incense and coal braziers smoking with tiny slivers of sandalwood. He took a deep breath to calm his senses. Curious to behold Shahgul, Wajahat Ali struggled to lower his gaze.
"Have you lost your mind Wajahat? Why couldn't you wait?" Shahgul detested when her massage treatments were interrupted. There was a time and place for everything, and during her relaxing treatments, nothing mattered.
"Speak!" She demanded.
"Ditta!" He swallowed hard into his dry throat. "He is planning something." Wajahat flickered his eyes resting on Shahgul's mehndi adorned hands. A circle stamped in the centre, her nails and fingertips were smothered in henna. He took a deep breath and turned away.
"What is he planning Wajahat?" Shahgul approached him unaware that her scent was testing him. At five foot ten inches tall, Shahgul was tall for a woman. Forbidden to wear heels next to her husband as she would look taller which perpetuated his insecurities, apart from her son, it was rare that she had to look up to any man.
"Well?" She glared at him, looking up as she reached his shoulders.
When he rested his eyes on Shahgul, he lost his train of thought. Without her gold necklaces, earrings, and make up she looked different. Natural. Her black glossy hair framed her round face and her skin glowed from the oily massage and under the soft  lighting. He stared rudely.
"Ditta....". The urgency waned in his tone. "Ditta knows everything. He's found Shah Jahan's family and planning to bring them back." Wajahat reset his trailing mind returning to his initial state of panic. There was something about Shahgul that weakened him.
"So?" She snapped making her way round to face him.
"My son will take the throne of Jahanpur. There are three days till the ceremony. Dilawar won't bring back a city boy who doesn't know anything about the land and the ways of our life. He is no threat to my son!" She inched towards him invading his personal space. Now, he was distracted by her strong floral perfume stifling his breaths. He stepped back to regain his composure.
"Not after today's panchayat, Choudrani Sahiba." Wajahat Ali bowed his head informing Shahgul of the shocking panchayat events leaving Shahgul in doubt. Wajahat was right. Dilawar was planning something.
"Your son rebelled against the panchayat. Choudhary Saab will not be happy. You must speak to Choudhary Shah-Nawaz, tell him to tell him to calm down. We can't risk it, since we come so far. I should have gone with him on the hunt. This wouldn't have happened!" He ran his hands through his short hair.
"Why weren't you?" Unable to use her heavy mehndi patterned hands. She shoved him with her elbow.
"You know very well what happens when he hangs out with that lout Uzayr. He shows off. Where have you been for the past two days?" She scolded the giant man like a child.
Wajahat was forbidden to mention the information he discovered about Meh'r-Bano. Working in the haveli for the noble household, he was careful what he learned and whom he spoke to, even with the elegant Shahgul.
"Anyway-" She mended the silence turning away from Wajahat Ali and making her way deeper into the room. "First, I must speak with Dilawar and find out what he is planning. In the meantime call Shah-Nawaz. Send him to me. He has a lot of explaining to do."
Shahgul made her way to the chaise lounge and sat down. Her dupatta slipped from her head and rested on her shoulders. Whilst she looked at her hands at the moist henna cracked dry, Wajahat Ali stole a brief look at the graceful woman. From the day she arrived at the haveli as Dialwar-Baksh's wife, he shadowed her and protected her as his duty. Soon, he witnessed the abuse Dilwar-Baksh inflicted as she disguised her purple bruised face. Over the years she'd grown wise and learned Dilwar-Baksh's moods with the help of Wajahat. As part of his duty, he would give his life for Shahgul.
"I'll let you know what to do. Stay around don't go wondering off." Her tone deflated. "Uff Shah-Nawaz you silly boy! All my life's work gone to waste." She sighed in worry. "What am I going to do with him?"
Wajahat Ali made his way towards the exit when Shahgul called out to him.
"-and Wajahat?"
He stopped with his back towards her. "Yes?"
"Don't come barging into the Zenana. Have some decorum." She warned gently.
"Apologies, Choudhrani Sahiba." He hung his head and left the room like a tornado. The room was stifling and being in the same room as Shahgul was always difficult.