The Fallen Widow

14. The Ceremony

Dilwar-Baksh tightened his eyes shut. He couldn't look at Fiza's broken state. She reminded him of Azaad. He was there. Why had he forgotten this? Azaad was behind the plot for his assassination. Uzayr was a simpleton, he wasn't clever to plan it. Nevertheless, Uzayr would be punished. Dilawar Baksh stood up and moved away from Fiza. He couldn't look at her. His walking stick tapped the ground. His back towards his granddaughter.

"Go to your room." He ordered her. He couldn't allow his emotions to rule his decision. Uzayr must be punished. Fiza had to be protected in a marriage with Jahanzaib. It was final.

"Baba-" She pleaded clasping her hands together. "I beg you- forgive him. He'll die. I'll die."

"Leave!" He yelled raising his walking stick. Gently, he made his way to the balcony.

*****  

The decision was set in stone. Fiza would wed Jahanzaib today. The imam was called at the haveli at 1pm. The bettak was prepared for the intimate ceremony.

In her bedroom, Malaikah dressed Fiza in bridal red. Dressed gold bangles on her bruised wrists, anklets on her scratched legs. Concealed scratches on her face with make-up and concealer. This was a tragedy. Fiza hadn't recovered from her attack and was now being forced to marry Jahanzaib. Malaikah dried her moist eyes. Such was the traditions of the haveli. Women had to submit, especially the granddaughter of Dilawar-Baksh'; his honour was at stake.

Preparing her like a sacrificial lamb in red, whilst Fiza froze in the moment. Tears filled Malaikah's eyes. How could baba do this, to the granddaughter her loves?

"I can't do this-" Fiza cried to Malaikah. "I can't."

"It's the only way to make things better." Malaikah assured her.

Fiza was taken to the bettak where the room was divided in two. One side for the groom and the imam, the other side for the women. The maids dotted around the room like flies watching the heart breaking ceremony. Shah gul was present sitting beside Fiza asking her to behave like a Choudhrani. The haveli's honour was at stake.

Jahanzaib entered the room dressed in white kurtha and a red, white rose garland around his neck. His head heavy with grief he sat beside Shah Nawaz who pinned him to his seat. The room filled with silence, but the sound of Fiza's sniffles echoed the room.

Dilawar-Baksh sat next to Jahanzaib. Stroking his back silently with praise in each touch. The sooner this debacle was over, the quicker Shah Nawaz could be on the road and search for Uzayr. The old man imam arrived and took out his registry. Withered with fear, he dared not to look at the bride or ask questions. He had one job. To marry the girl and boy. He quickly began reciting the verses of the quran in full speed. Soon the ceremony will be over.

As the imam recited, commotion broke out in the courtyard. The guards shouted and Wajahat Ali raced out of the room preparing his rifle. The cacophony grew loud that Jahanzaib stood up, but Dilawar Baksh stopped him.

"Continue-" Dilawar-Baksh ordered the imam.

The room was broken into curiosity. What happened outside? Moments later ten guards entered the bettak pointing their gun at a dishevelled Uzayr as he walked into the haveli. The room gasped in shock. Fiza jumped to her feet lifted her skirt above her ankles.

"He's alive!"

Shah Gul grabbed her arm and stopped the silly girl. Dressed in torn black kurtha, Uzayr donned a turban on his head, but this was different. A black turban gifted from a saint. After spending the last forty-eight hours in reflection and solitude, Uzayr found himself sleeping on the gates of a darbar. There Sai baba spotted him and sat beside the crestfallen young man in silence healing his wounds verses from the Quran. He blew the sacred verses upon the young man healing him from his existential crisis.
"I have no reason to live, baba. I want to die." Uzayr murmured.