The Fallen Widow

Chapter 2; Guilt

Six Months Earlier 

It had been 48 hours since Meh'r-Bano ran to the safety of the woods. The snarling and barking of the wild dogs were back. She'd dragged her exhausted, wet and bruised body and found shelter in a dilapidated hut and spent the night trying to build a weak fire with wet twigs and failing miserably. The fight for survival was incredibly difficult grappling with her will to live which was slowly dying out. What was the use of living? She had no one left to love and care. Drinking fresh stream water, she kept her body alive but her soul was burned out.

The leafy green trees was once her refuge, a safe haven to reinvigorate from the bustling city, the trickling of streams, the ruffle of the leaves, the cawing of crows and ravens. But now, it had become a death trap, cold, wet with no shelter. Mud smeared against her skin, her muscles aching in pain. The loneliness reminded her of the gaping hole of sadness in her heart. Shafiq was gone. She couldn't belive it. Babu, he'd died with his son. Tears bubbled in her eyes, but the fearsome sound of dogs were behind her refusing for her to grieve. 

What was the point of running away? But she had to return to Jahanpur. She had to say goodbye to her father in law and husband and beg for forgiveness. If she wanted to continue, she had to turn back and return to find clothes, shoes, food to make the journey out of the forest. She had to devise a plan, living from minute to minute was draining. She had to return to Jahanpur and steal what she could and then return to the forest.

That night, the howling of wolves spread terror through Meh'r-Bano's bones. She stood up and grabbed a long thick branch as her walking stick. Her bare feet bruised and cut she hissed with pain and limped with each step. Returning to Jahanpur was a risk; but without essentials she would die in the forest. At the moment, death was a sweet option; an end to the physical and emotional pain.

Scuttling through the dark path with her branch as guide, she made her way back towards Jahanpur where she was stoned for openly confessing her love for Choudhary Shah Nawaz. Everyone would be in their homes; talking about her and the panchayat, the day no one would forget for a long time.

It was a further hour before Meh'r-bano reached the edge of the forest and noticed distance lights flickering from a mud dwelling. She wasn't sure where she was, but nervously made her way towards the dim lights of the dwelling. On edge, her heart pounding and her eyes alert looking all around she made her way through the fields poking a path before her bare feet. This was her last chance. If she couldn't get any food or clothing from the village; she would soon die.

The village dwelling was a raw mud baked abode made out of stone. Two buildings flickered with light. In the courtyard she spotted large curtains or kat chador hanging on a line.

I can cover my body with that. There must be shoes inside.

Moving closer she made her way to the three foot wall that surrounded the dwelling and jumped over it. In the far corner, a large bull rested for the night. She tiptoed careful not to wake the noisy beast. Making her way towards the washing line her heart pounded faster as she approached the dwelling. This was a risk she had to take. She tugged the large colourful chador and wrapped it around her head and her body. She sighed deeply feeling warm. Her eyes dotted around searching for anything else she could use to survive the dangerous forest. Rushing towards the left, she hissed with pain as her foot scratched on a sharp object. She gasped. Her foot twisted and she fell on the ground. The bull snorted by the noise.

"Who is it?!" A man yelled out.

"I have a gun." His voice shivered.

She sobbed softly holding in the pain and holding her foot and dragged her body away from his voice.