The Fallen Widow

28. Heartbreak

Leaning on his wooden walking stick, Choudhary Dilawar stood at the front gates of the haveli with the darkness of the night shrouding him like death. A deep and throbbing pain shot through his left hip. He was old, and standing for long period jolted pain through him like thunder. Still, pushing through the pain, his hand shivering in anticipation he stood waiting for the arrival of Shah Nawaz. He stared at the horizon listening to the crickets chirp and wild dogs bark like demons. Had Shah Nawaz truly killed his prodigal grandson?

It was half past eleven when the SUV's drove into the haveli courtyard. Dilawar stood between the two pillars anger carved into his face, holding his stick tight. The maids were up late. No one went home. Dilawar's heart pounded with anger and anxiety. He glared at the guards for answers, but they had been silenced. Their eyes lowered to the ground. Their hands clasped tidily in front of them like they were solemn in prayer. No one uttered a word.
Shah Nawaz jumped out of the SUV holding his head high in victory. He opened his arms wide greeting his mother.
"Choudhary Shah Nawaz has made you proud!" He declared glaring at his father in contempt.
"Jahanpur is mine."
Shahgul was nervous holding onto her shawl aware that her husband was watching them with his eagle eyes.
Inside the hookah bettak, the maids had prepared fresh hookah pipes, silver trays laden with sherbet, lassi and refreshments for the travellers. Dilawar stood in the bettak watching Shah Nawaz throw down the glass of thick, milky lassi and gasp with delight wiping the milk from his moustache.
"Zabardast!" He complimented. "The taste of Jahanpur!" He celebrated holding the glass up.
"Where is he?" Dilawar looked around like a blind man.
"What have you done to my grandson?" His stomach gripped with fear, he held onto his anger knowing any moment he would cry for his long lost grandson.
There were many men who knew, but no one dared answer, not even Wajahat Ali. Dilawar searched for hope. He looked in everyone's faces, had death arrived to his door? Something had changed tonight. There was something in the air, the way Shah Nawaz walked and carried himself. He ignored his father's questions and sat down taking deep puffs from the gurgling hookah. Confidence broached him. Dilawar could see it in his eyes holding the silence with confidence.
"You should have seen him baba." Uzayr was the first to speak breaking the silence. All eyes turned on him.
"Once trapped the kid in a choke hold, no one could save him. His body dropped on the road like a dog. Dead." Uzayr crossed his arms with pride. He took pleasure in tormenting Dilawar.
Dilawar's eyes widened with anger. Fear grasped Fiza as she held onto her baba's arm. How could they rejoice on a Choudhary's death?
"You killed him." Dilawar approached Shah Nawaz who blew puffs of smoke into the air.
"I told you to bring him here, alive. Who gave you the order to kill him?" Dilawar leaned forward. His face inches from his son's just like they were on the breakfast table that morning.
"Does it matter whether he is dead or alive. It's over. Jahanpur belongs to me." Shah Nawaz looked defiantly into his father's red eyes.
"You disobeyed me! You disobeyed the panachayat." Dilawar's face turned a shade of red. "You are a disgrace! You think of no one but yourself. I cannot believe you are from me! I am ashamed to call you my son!" Dilawar waved his walking stick in the air.
Shah Nawaz smirked at Uzayr holding the hookah pipe. He was accustomed to his father's taunts. It didn't hurt any longer.
"That's what I expect of you, baba."
"I have no faith in you! I never have!" Baba shivered with anger.
"Bring the body!" Shah Nawaz called out to the guards.
Fiza grabbed her baba's left arm in fear and bit onto her dupatta. She took a deep breath ready to brace baba and hold him when he breaks down. For years he dreamed of this day, but not like this.

Moments later two guards carried a young man in a bottle green sheet. His curly hair matted on his forehead. With his arms around the guard, his legs dragged behind him they bought Jahanzaib into the bettak and placed him on the marble floor.
"I have won the battle for Jahanpur." Shah Nawaz claimed. "Your beloved memory of Shah Jahan lays at your feet."