The Fallen Widow

Chapter. 22 Counting Lives

Curled up in the backseat, hugging her knees to her chest, Emaan whimpered shaking after Shah Nawaz's attempt to kill her. She trembled looking back at Jahanpur fading from the horizon and becoming a dot. With her long, loose hair around her, she arrived in Jahanpur under a veil and left without a duppatta clutching her sobbing heart. Her dream that her mother and Shahgul painted for her in a beautiful oil painting was shattered. She would no longer be queen of Jahanpur. She was returning to Khagarpur where he home was a graveyard. Jahanzaib glanced at her a few times in the rear-view mirror unable to speak through the journey tense in a deadly silence. He wanted to put his arms around her and tell her, everything would be okay.

When Emaan returned home to Khagarpur; she ran into her mother's arms and sobbed.
"He could have killed me?" She cried.

Reshma was wheeled forward by the maid in her wheelchair looking at Jahanzaib. Her mother sobbed.
"Why did you survive? You are a curse! A burden!"

Both mother and daughter sobbed as Jahanzaib stood in the courtyard.

"I don't know what to do with you anymore. I have tried so much." Jamila wailed.

Reshma sat on the wheelchair staring at Jahanzaib's height, his broad shoudlers bearing the marks of a Choudhary. Who was he?

"How did you save her?" Reshma asked. Surely Shah Nawaz would have killed her knowing Muzzamil murdered his Dilawar-Baksh and Shah Jahan. How did this man stop Shah Nawaz?

"Why did you save her?" Jamila complained. "She would be better off dead. She has no future."

Emaan sobbed.

Jamila had given up saving her daughter. The final plot would mean the life or death for Emaan. She was pretty sure she was dead after her grandfather killed Dilawar-Baksh. There was no hope for her.

"You are supposed to console her." Jahanzaib looked at the face of the two broken women.

"What is there to console?" Reshma replied her face dead with emotion. She lifted her arms and indicated to the haveli.
"Look at what is left of us. Our men have died. Our sons drank themselves to death. The walls are thin and soon will fall. I will die and her mother. She will be left alone, to wither."

Jahanzaib was astounded listening to the fate of Emaan. Maybe it would be better if Shah Nawaz killed her? He looked around at the barren haveli, broken battered walls, no sign of life in the gardens. Kharagpur was now orphaned.
"She is young." Jahanzaib searched for a flicker of hope. "Why should she die?"

"Which is a curse!" Jamila snapped. "Before I die, I will kill her."

Emaan left the courtyard sobbing up the stairs. There was no future for her.

Jahanazaib couldn't belive what he was hearing. Emaan had no chance in this world.
"I won't allow it. I can't let you do that to her."

"Why?" Reshma pushed her wheelchair forward. "What is she to you? Who are you to speak for her?"

There was no hope in these women's face- Khagarpur was now at risk without a leader. He looked at both women who glared at him searching for hope, for an answer. He turned away and left the haveli unable to provide them hope they searched for. He marched to the car and slammed the door shut. Resting his head on the steering wheel, he was torn. Emaan's wide eyes filled with tears haunted him. He couldn't leave her here, but he couldn't take her back. Shah Nawaz would kill her. He punched the dashboard and roared. It was time to decide.

Moments later, he returned back to the dilapidated haveli. The two women sat in silence waiting for hope, and it arrived in the form of Jahanzaib. He neared Reshma who sat on the wheelchair rolling tasbeeh beads praying for her granddaughter. Jahanzaib's tall frame filled the door casting a shadow. He approached Reshma and kneeled before her.