The Fallen Widow

17. Cry of War- Part 2

It was the first time Meh'r-Bano heard the terrifying sound of the war siren repeatedly with the distant sound of gunfire. Sitting beside the choolah watching the red lentils boil, every house in every village was sitting on edge waiting for the gunfire to end. Babu lay on his kat, his mouth ajar staring at the blue sky whilst hearing the distant gun shots like fireworks. Unable to communicate his feelings, he froze like a statue in fear.
"When will it stop?" Meh'r-Bano asked her mother in law. Kaneez filtered through the long grain rice flicking out the tiny stones and grit listening silently to the firing. The anticipation was fever pitch. After the firing, the wind would carry the wailing from the poor households carrying their dead to their final resting place. A sacrifice for Jahanpur. 

"It stops when it stops." Said Shafiq scrubbing nails sitting on small wooden stool with a plastic watering lota next to him. He'd closed his garage early and returned home.
"Last time it lasted seventy-two hours. Three whole days. Then, came the funerals." Said Kaneez.

Meh'r-Bano recalled her conversation with Tasneem. The forty days of mourning.
"I knew this would happen." Meh'r-Bano recalled the tension at the grand bazaar when Shah-Nawaz shoved the barrel into his uncle's chest. The stench of war was rife in the air.
"What do you mean?" Shafiq shifted his body on the stool and turned to Meh'r-Bano. Now she was working at Central Sang E Mar Mar Haveli, she had inside information.
"How did you know?"
Did I say that aloud? It was too late when Meh'r-Bano realised what she said. She couldn't tell Shafiq about the scandal with her sandal? Or reveal how she ended up the Grand bazaar and escaped from the guards? Shafiq's eyes dilated with worry. Kaneez blew over the rice and turned to Meh'r-Bano waiting for an answer.
"What do you know that we don't?" She asked creasing her eyebrows.
"Umm...I mean..." She stuttered whilst mixing the red lentils with the wooden spoon searching for a plausible lie.
"Uh....it's inevitable. There is tension until the inauguration." She saved herself. "Everyday there is talk of war at the haveli amongst the maids." She pinned her eyes on the boiling lentils. The water evaporated and the lentils were softer.
Kaneez began praying softly. "May Allah protect us." She placed the rice tray aside and lifted her hands with her palms facing towards the sky.
"May Allah protect Jahanpur. May Allah protect us poor from these war mongering Choudhary's whose greed for land and wealth will have no end. We are weak, too weak to speak up and oppose these lofty powerhouses." She sighed in despair. "I have only one son-May Allah protect him from these evil Choudhary's. May Allah bless him with strong sons."

A large lump formed in Meh'r-Bano's stomach and she switched the cooker off. Her feet were still sore from the bruises, but her mother in law's prayer pierced deeper. Inadvertently, her mother in law reminded Meh'r-Bano of her emptiness in her womb. However, much she tried to busy herself, the reminder flung her to rock bottom. The rush of the Grand Bazaar, the Haveli, the desire to educate young children was a distraction from the emptiness she felt inside. Meh'r-Bano gazed at Shafiq who scrubbed his nails with soap until they were raw red wondering if he would ever understand how lonely she felt? He told her to ignore his mother's brutal remarks. He refused to acknowledge her feelings and searched for miracle and spiritual cures. Her best friend Tasneem would never understand, God had blessed her with an abundant brood. Meh'r-Bano sighed with a deep, dull sigh and tilted her head up staring at the sky with her hands around her stomach. The gunfire would end one day, but the war inside herself intensified every day compounding her loneliness. 

****

The line of black SUV stopped twenty feet from Muzamil's haveli and fired indiscriminately riddling the haveli thick outer walls with bullets. Muzaamil's reinforced his haveli with five foot thick and ten feet tall brick walls protecting the household from attack. His guards retaliated with rapid gunfire. Behind the row of armed men, Dilawar-Baksh watched from a safe distance with his Kalashnikov gripped in his left hand. Guards screamed and tumbled from the rooftop to a painful death.