The Fallen Widow

33. Legacy Returns

****

When the Surraya and her children were led into the haveli, they could hear Jahanzaib yelling and beating the door. Surraya's felt dizzy from the assault, her bottom lip was bleeding when the guard opened the Jahnzaib's bedroom door and stood back. Surraya collapsed into Jahanzaib's arm. 
"Ammi!" He called out holding her. Disraught by her state, anger coursed through his body, he glared at the guard. Nirma grabbed his arm holding onto him. 
"Bhaiya."
"Who did this to you, ammi? Tell me!" Jahanzaib demanded to know. He carried his mother to the sofa, his body restless ready to fight and kill the person for hurting his mother. Nirma ran to fetch a glass of water. Jahanzaib stood over his mother rubbing his hands over his face and through his hair in frustration. He curled his hands into fists whilst Nirma bought the cold glass of water to her mother's lips. The water stung Surraya's lower lip. Her vision blurry, her head light headed.
"Shah Jahan." Surraya gazed at Jahanzaib in awe. She couldn't make him out, but his collars large and pointy. She could only just make out the emblem printed on his left pocket. Was Shah Jahan alive and waiting for her? She reached out and touched his jaw.
"Shah Jahan." Her speech slurred.
Jahanzaib kissed her palm and pressed her hand on his jaw.
"Ammi, it's me. Jahanzaib." His voice quivered. "Tell me who did this? I promise you, I will kill them and drink their blood!" His face burned red with anger.
"He hit her. The old man." Nirma cried.
Jahanzaib jumped to his feet and marched to the door and starting kicking it.
"Let me out you bastards! Let me out! How dare you touch my mother!"
"Stop him." Surraya turned to Shahryar and Nirma. "Stop him."

Shahgul sat in the hookah bettak drinking her cup of karak chai with her loyal made massaging her feet. Jahanzaib's voice echoed in the haveli, his rage poured through the walls. She scoffed with derision.
"This is the boy who will be king of Jahanpur." She sipped her cup of tea with a slight blow. Victory was a whisper away. Looking at the screen of her phone, she impatiently waited for Jamila's call. Whilst hell broke lose at the haveli, Shahgul planned to wed Shah Nawaz to Emaan as soon as possible- despite Reshma's vehement opposition. The race was on between Dilawar-Baksh and Shahgul.

***

Later that morning, Fiza made her way into Jahanzaib's room where it was eerily quite. With four maids behind her, each carrying a tray of food, clothes, towels, the guards kept their eager eyes on the room.

Together, the family found each other with Surraya sitting on the sofa, Shahryaar and Nirma sitting at her feet. Jahanzaib marched in the far corner looking out of the window planning their escape. The maids places hot spicy curries, piping hot paranthas saturated in ghee and jugs of water and lassi on the table for the privileged prisoners. Bound by tradition to stay silent, Fiza voiced no opinion.
"Let me know if you need anything." Fiza's voice was soft and her tone gentle like balm. Surraya's eyes rested on Fiza's gold bangles, gold rings and her gold pendant. She was no maid, she was from the clan.
"Whose daughter are you?" Surraya broke the silence and asked Fiza. When Fiza turned she found a nasty bruise on the woman's cheek. How could her beloved grandad be so evil? This woman must have hurt him deeply?
"I'm sorry." Fiza looked around as Nirma and Shahryar watched her.
"Sit here." Surraya stroked the sofa beside her and waded her children away from her. Nervously, Fiza sat beside Surraya bringing her long ribbon parranda over her shoulder and towards her navel.
"Do you need antiseptic or something for your lip?" Said Fiza.
"No beti-" The woman spoke fluent Potwari. She was one of them.
"Who is your mother?"
Fiza shared her mother's name. "She has passed away from childbirth."
Surraya wasn't sure who she was. Dilawar-Baksh had four wives. "Your grandmother, who is she?"
"Najma."
Najma was Dilawar-Baksh's second wife, submissive and traditional. She birthed four daughters. One daughter was Fiza's mother who passed away from child birth. Now it was clear where she stood in the family circle.
"Who lives in the haveli?"
Fiza answered her questioning honestly, the maids stood around watching the shrewd woman asking pivotal questions to find her place in the haveli. Surraya earned the bruise on her cheek, if she remained submissive, life would have been easier.
"Who did Malikah marry?"
"We don't talk about that. Baba doesn't want anyone to talk about it." Fiza bowed her head and stroked the tassel of her parranda. Surraya understood the girl must have fallen in love with a man outside the clan.
"How is Uzayr?" Asked Surraya.
Fiza shot a look at Surraya. Why did she ask about Uzayr in particular?
"You think I don't remember?" A painful smile passed Surraya's lips, she touched her lips and licked the dry blood.
"He was always there right behind you. When you bought the eggs from the chicken coup, you fell and broke three eggs. You came to the haveli with mud on your sandals and knew you would get into trouble." Surraya recalled fondly. "Only Uzayr took the blame and took the beating from your father." She paused taking a deep breath. Her head was thumping with pain. "He's a good boy. How is he?"
Fiza flicked her fingernails. "He's angry. On edge."
"Why?"
Fiza swallowed a lump in her throat. "His father, he was murdered and found in the river."
Surraya's heart hit the ground. Another death. Another murder. She looked at Jahanzaib who was distracted drowning in his deep thoughts. Surraya offered a prayer and asked what happened.
"Uzayr doesn't know. He wants to find out and seek revenge."
Surraya touched Fiza's hand and held her wrist.
"Beti, the circle of revenge is deadly. It never ends and continues for generations. Look at us. This haveli was my heaven, due to land wars, and revenge is has become a prison. Save him from the gallows of revenge."
The statement left Fiza distraught, terrified for Uzayr. How could she stop him? He was on a path to hell. 

With the maids leaving the room, Fiza remained watching the family pick at the food. They didn't want to eat, but hunger forced them.
"Tell me ammi-" Nirma sipped a glass of water. "I'll go mad here. Can I get some books to read?" Nirma turned to Fiza. "My exams will be soon, I must do some revision."
Fiza noticed that all the children spoke Urdu, their mother switched from the local dialect to Urdu. They stood out like a cactus in a lavender field. 
"Yes-" Shahryar agreed. "Where can we go?"
They formed inch of trust with Fiza after she answered the questions with honesty.
"We don't have a book shop." Fiza replied stroking the tassels at the end of her paranda
"Why?" Nirma stared at Fiza as though she was tricking her.
"We don't need books. No one will read."
"I don't understand." Nirma looked at her mother for a better answer. Why was this traditional girl talking like this?
"Beti-" Surraya entered the uncomfortable conversation. Nirma did not know of a life in Jahanpur, she was born and raised in the city.
"There are no schools. So why would there be a book shop?"
Nirma smiled uneasy. Why were there no schools? What did the girls and boys do all day? What future did they plan for?
"You must be educated?" Asked Shahryar. "You are from this household."
Fiza stood up and began to collect the used plates into a pile.
"What's the point of all the education, after all we end up looking after our husband and children." Fiza piled the plates in the tray.
"That's what women are designed for, to make a home. Nowadays, these moderns girl with all this education, what's the point if you can't cook and clean? It's the western society corrupted our lands. We are safe and better here in Jahanpur. The men of the society keep us safe." Fiza smiled and lifted the tray ready to leave the uncomfortable line of questioning. She was happy in Jahanpur. Her future was planned with Uzayr, there was nothing more she wanted than to make a home with him. Education, degrees, classroom did not suit her.
"Ammi, is she for real?" Nirma marched to her mother. "What the hell? Are we in Gilead?"
"Leave her Nirma. She's born here. It's what she believes. It's not wrong." Surraya was aware of the society in Jahanpur, she spend many years happy in Jahanpur.
"I can't stay here!" Nirma heart beat increased, her chest tightened. She looked round the room. the windows were closed. Guards waited at the doors.
"I can't breathe!" She gasped for breath. "We need to leave- I need to get out." Nirma made a run for the door but the guard stopped her with his rifle obstructing her.
"Let me go."
Jahanzaib leaped over the chair and marched towards her.
"I want to go home!" Nirma shrieked out in English- a foreign language in Jahanpur. "This place is hell!"
Surraya consoled a traumatised Nirma whilst Fiza watched in disappointment. What was so good about reading? Meh'r-Bano caused trouble secretly teaching children at the quarry and now these city people. The meeting with Surraya and her family troubled Fiza. But what struck her most was the warning about Uzayr.
'Save him from the gallows of revenge.'

****

The pressure was mounting on Wajahat Ali to take Meh'r-Bano out of the haveli. Today Shah Nawaz was returning from the city, waiting for news. The job had to completed.Wajahat Ali hung around the servant quarters, but that witch Geena was on Meh'r-Bano's tail. She was following her from the moment she woke, to the moment she rested her head on the floppy pillow in the servant quarters. Shah Nawaz ordered him to take her without anyone suspecting. She had to leave by her own will. Today was her last day in the haveli and in Jahanpur. Everything depended on the plan.