THE DIFFERENT SHADES OF WHITE (BOOK 1)

Chapter 5-Gulistan-e-Gulshan

 That night—when the party and Walima function came to an end, the Chairman requested me to stay at the Main house. I was very enthusiastic about it but as for Shehzad—he was as negative as ever.

   "We can't Chairman." He denied. "I'm tired and it will be a bother and besides I have to go for work tomorrow." he presented his excuses—but they seemed half hearted to me.

   The Chairman nodded his head. "You're right you must be very tired and you should rest now, because tomorrow you have a long flight and you won't be able to enjoy your honeymoon if you're all worn out." The Chairman patted Shehzad's shoulder, but the expression on his face and eyes showed that he was completely taken by surprise and lost his facial composure.

   "What do you mean? What flight and what honeymoon?" he asked in bewilderment. The Chairman gave him a warm inviting smile.

   "Didn't your secretary inform you? You're a newlywed man, Shehzad so there is no way that I would let you work especially on your honeymoon. You are young and you have such a beautiful wife. So go and enjoy yourself for once." The Chairman said with a lot of fervor. Shehzad sighed in exhaustion. It was obvious to me that he couldn't deny what the Chairman wanted from him.

   "And besides—you haven't had a day off or a vacation for two years ever since you took your father's place. So cut yourself some slack and give yourself some credit right Khadijah?" The Chairman winked at me. I was taken aback.

   "Y-yes most definitely." I replied after a little hesitation because I wasn't that aware of Shehzad's position. Shehzad gave me sharp glare when the Chairman turned to leave. I shrugged. What else was I suppose to do?

   When the Chairman escorted us to our Bedroom, I saw the bed and stopped in my tracks.

   It was decorated with yellow dandelions and red roses. My heart was exploding just by looking at it. Does that mean that we are going to do it tonight?

   Although Shehzad said that he didn't acknowledge me as his wife—but nonetheless, he was still a man and my husband on top of that. There was no telling what he could do to me tonight and I don't know if I'll be able to refuse him or not?

   My heart began to beat out of bounds and because of the diamond neck brace; it was getting harder to breath. I quickly ran to the Bathroom. But my heart wouldn't calm down.

   It was one thing that he was my husband and only he could take me; but I couldn't accept it as that. To me; handing off my virginity to someone whom I didn't even love was a complicated issue—I found it utterly embarrassing and terrifying.

   Shehzad was a pseudo Muslim so I know that much that to him, having s*x with any woman wasn't a big deal to him. But to me— but for me; it is very special and I want to share it with someone I love.

   I retired to the bathroom first.

   I splashed my face with water. I was thinking too selfishly. There is no way that I could refuse myself to him. If not for myself, than it will cause God's displeasure and I cannot let that happen. And I had also decided that I will become useful to Shehzad so that he might come to have a better opinion about me.

   And this is an arranged marriage. If not now, than sooner or later, I will be able to capture Shehzad's heart—I have to do that by any means necessary.

   I inhaled deeply—all this worrying over baseless perverted thoughts is going to give me a nose bleed.

   I washed the makeup off my face and tried to take the neck brace off. But I couldn't undo the locks at the back. I needed external assistance. I came out off the bathroom. Shehzad was sitting on the bad with his head bowed down. His tuxedo coat was lying on the bed beside him and he had undone his necktie.

   Maybe he was waiting his turn for the Bathroom. My thoughts were worried. But I had my other worries.

   "Um—can you please help me out with this? It's suffocating me." I went to him nervously. He looked at me, his eyes livid. The Chairman had ruined his mood with the Honeymoon announcement—and I was being so careful not to let his bad side come out.

   He gawked at me, sighed and got up. I turned around. I was getting a tingling sensation from his touch. I could feel his hot breath on the nape of my neck.

   I flushed. My heart was beating fifty miles per second. I was that uneasy.

   As soon as the Brace came off, I began to pant for air. The brace had put a lot of stress on my delicate slender neck. I caressed my fingers to touch the depressions left on my neck. I sighed.

   "Thanks." I said. I couldn't tell him my problem of wearing heavy jewelry otherwise he'll think of me as an ultra i***t.

   I had only taken a step forward when suddenly, his arms wrapped around my neck. His face was against my neck and his eye slashes caressed my skin. My heart began to shake.

   "Hey—what's wrong? What are you doing?" I tried to remove his arms, but instead of answering, he lifting me into his arms and carried me to the bed. I flushed bright red.

   The threw me on the bed, his legs securing mine. He started to take his shirt off and advanced towards me with his half n***d body.

   "W-wait!" I started to rebel and my hands flung against his approaching body, but he caught one of my hands and carefully kissed it. It froze me in shock.

   "Go on fight me a little more—it only makes it more enjoyable." He murmured, kissing my wrist and loosening the buckle of his belt. Where he was touching, it left my skin blazing hot and my nerves began to shot. My heart couldn't take it anymore.

   It seems that I wasn't ready after all.

   "P-please stop. I'm not ready for this." I begged, trying to escape.

   "What's wrong? Just earlier you were clinging to me so eagerly." He said—his voice soft and seductive like velvet. I gulped. My heart pumped harder. Tears pricked my eyes.

   "Tha-that was because....," before I could answer, his mouth was on top mine. This kiss was different. He was sucking in my tongue in his mouth.

    His hands were all over me. His kiss left me breathless and as I gasped for air, he began to ripe the Sari off my body.

   "Stop it!" I yelled. I couldn't do this after all. His lips were on my neck and I could feel his tongue lick my throat.

   I tried to fight back. "Why are you doing this? You were the one who said that you didn't see me as your wife—then why are you doing this to me." I cried out loud. He stopped and faced me. His eyes filled with dissatisfaction.

   "Of course I don't see you as my wife." He admitted. "But that doesn't mean that I don't see you as a woman." He smirked in an evil and ominous pursuit. My breath got caught in my throat.

   What the hell is that suppose to mean? my thoughts—my mind was in chaos.

   He caught my chin. "You know, you're shocked expression is so adorable." He grinned playfully. His eyes were sardonic—but somewhat forlorn. And because of that, my hands went limp and my energy began to fade. My mind dazed.

   He was ravishing me mercilessly.

  This all was too much for me—it was too inconceivable for me. I just felt like killing myself. And before I realized it, I was already crying. Why was I the only one who had to succumb to force? I was forced into a marriage and now I'm being forced into losing my dignity all in one go.

   "Please don't do this to me? My virginity is the only thing I have got." I cried.

   Shehzad had stopped and was staring at me in bafflement. "So you've never had a taste of a man before, huh?"

   I gave him a shaky nod. "So you're one of those who decided to take the virgin road?.....no wonder why you reacted like a scared virgin." He mumbled.

   "Humph—even if you cry, I'm not going to stop. I've spend a lot of money on you and it looks like that it was worth every penny." He murmured in my ear—his voice fearlessly declarative. He began to nibble on my ear lobe and unhooked my b*a at the back.

   "Then tell me something," I sniffed—collecting my wits, I tried to summon up some courage. "Why would you want to do this to me if you don't even love me? Shouldn't you do this with someone you love?" I challenged.

   All of a sudden, Shehzad stopped and arose—his face turned grave and menacing.

   "Love?" he spat matlevolently. Getting up—he walked away from me, leaving me in a dazed state. I took my sari from the ground and quickly covered my n***d body—my face hot and red with tears and embarrassment.

   Looking down at me with sudden hateful and spiteful eyes, he looked terrifying and wicked. I always thought that his eyes were mature looking despite his age, but right now, they seemed old and distant—like he was reminiscing about something.

   "Don't kid yourself. You really are an i***t to believe in stuff like love." He hissed maliciously. I gulped in dismay—feeling tensed. He was really scary at the moment that I was giving me pain in my chest.

   "I don't believe in something as unrealistic and fake as love." He declared daringly.

   "Love is for hopeless bastards who have nothing of their own," he chuckled in black humor. "And it seems like you are far dumber than I thought. You seriously think that only by loving someone, you can have s*x only then? You really are a moron of the highest order" he joked sarcastically. But it only made me angry. Believing in love is every girl's greatest strength and he was making fun of it so shamelessly.

   "Well excuse me for being a moron, but if I don't believe in love, then I can't think of living a good life at all." I justified. "And I absolutely refuse to give myself to you until I come to love you and you love me back." I retorted. He narrowed his eyes and his expression became gravely forbidding. "That will never happen. I will never love anyone, least of all you. But if that's a challenge, then I gladly accept—it's not like I'm desperate for an ugly and non appealing woman like you." He asserted his voice full of hatred. He could not possibly come to hate me so quickly, could he? It was like the hate he was feeling; he was directing it all towards me. 

     "I'm letting you go this time. But next time, I won't show you any mercy." He threatened and lighted a cigar. He was relishing it and I thought that maybe the conversation had died out—but I was wrong.

   "Oh and one more thing—you are f*******n from telling any outsiders that you are my wife—even in paper. Especially if anyone from the media got a hold on you, then you are to simply say that you are my cousin. Understood?"

   But I didn't understand at all. "Why?" I mumbled—my voice shaky. He sighed in disgust.

   "If people ever came to know that the young President of Atish Oil refineries is married to a simple village woman—then my reputation as a respectable bachelor willed be sullied. And its best for you too as well." He explained and that was all.

   He was prejudiced.

   I didn't quite understand it but I didn't have the guts to ask him to explain it to me further. He went into the bathroom and slammed the door behind him.

   I quickly changed into the clothes that were placed in the closet for me. Most of them were lingerie. What I had faced was bad enough but this was downright embarrassing.

   Shehzad came out in his sleeping suit and without paying any attention to me; he climbed into the bed, switched off the side lamp and tried to sleep.

   He was clearly disappointed in me. And it was my fault too. I was way too selfish and only cared for myself and completely ignored what Shehzad had wanted. I know that he doesn't have any feeling towards me so I can't say that he hates me—but it seemed to me that something had happened to him in the past to make him feel so much hatred and abhorrence. I didn't mind if he called me ugly, because the self hatred that I was feeling right now was clearly justifiable. But I had noticed something tonight;

   His eyes were very lonely this entire time. Was it because he had no one who cared for him? He was just like me—an orphan, but he had such loving relatives, unlike me. He has everything, yet his eyes were so lonesome. Even at the party, he was looking elsewhere and ignored making any eye contact with anyone.

   His mother was alive. Could it be that she had neglected him in the past and that must be why he didn't invite her tonight? Was it because he wasn't given any love at all his entire life? If that is the case, then it is completely understandable.

   I looked at his sleeping face. He looked so calm and humble. The muscles of his face were relaxed. There wasn't any sign of the frown that he usually has on his sleeping face.

   I really do pity him. When he's awake, he is so mean, arrogant and says whatever he wants to say—but then again, it's only natural for someone who has been devoid of love. I wonder—if I ever tried to ask him about it, would he answer me or brush me aside.

   I sat on the bad and folded my arms around my legs and began to think. Initially I had thought that I will be very obedient and make Shehzad recognize me and I didn't take into account my own feelings. But now my sense of duty had made me come into terms of something else too; I cannot abide my anything that doesn't agree to my feeling. At first I thought that if time made me suffer, then I will swallow the pains quietly and never complain but after tonight, I'm beginning to think otherwise. So that's why, I have to plan a new strategy now. I have to come up with something that will be good for the both of us.

   I was beginning to feel the old headstrong Khadijah being born again, who had died when she had buried her parents and signed on the white paper known as the Nikah-nama. I had given up on myself and made myself weak by being subservient. But now I wanted to believe that change can only be brought if both the parties are in concordance with one another. I will have to fight and make him give me my rights. And only then can I also accept his rights upon me.

   This is the only way.

                                                                    **********

       The Next day—as par the Chairman's orders—we left for our honeymoon. It was a one month tour to Europe—and it was going to be my second trip. I wish that I had told the chairman about this so he could have arranged for something else. But I suppose it was fine—it wasn't a real honeymoon anyway and Shehzad and I weren't a real couple. For the time being—we're just husband and wife by name only. My luggage was prepared by Sonia. I was glad that it consisted of Shalwar Kurta and a few shirt pieces with jeans. If I wasn't married, then wearing western style clothing wasn't a problem for me, but now, I'm completely compelled to wear the clothes that don't reveal the frame of my body. But I'm sure that it wasn't according to my western indoctrinated husband's tastes. But still I got dressed up very fashionably, just to show that I was a newlywed bride—I didn't care if we were a real couple or not. I can't kill my own desires, now can I?

   During the entire trip, we avoided talking to each other. I closely observed him but he didn't pay any attention to me at all. As soon as we landed in London, he just opened his laptop, started making some calls and got his business started. I dared not disturb him for his work was very important to him.

   We stayed in London for five days and even so, Shehzad met with his business associates and I remained inside the hotel room. He had given me the liberty to go for shopping if I wanted—he thought that this was my first time coming to Europe, but I decided to stay indoors. I wasn't in the mood to go outside. My mind was preoccupied with old memories.

   The next destination was Paris. As usual, Shehzad left me alone in the hotel room. But I was grateful for that. I had some business that I needed to attend to. We were staying at one of the Atish resorts that were located near the Eiffel tower. He left without telling me anything. I was feeling so lonely that I didn't realize that I had reached the place where I had wanted to go. It was the month of late July and the monsoon rains had started in Paris.

   I arrived at the building in mid town Paris that once harbored my home. Abu had made us live in Paris for some time when I was small, so my elementary education was completed in Paris. Haris—my younger brother, was born in here in Paris during that time.

   The rain had stopped. It was twilight now.

   I remembered that I would sit on the side walk whenever the rains would stop and wait for Abu till he got home—Ami would thrash me but I wouldn't listen to her. When Abu would come, I would push him towards the nearby play ground, where he would play with me to make up for lost time. That way, I would always make new memories. Sometimes Abu would deny taking me there if he was too tired, but then I would through a tantrum and wouldn't speak to him until he would go to the play ground with me.

   My chest tightened as I remembered Abu's kindness and love towards me—he would do anything to keep a smile on my face. He spoiled me so much.

    I feel so much indebted to him. He made me the person that I am. I thought that even if I'm married off, I will always look after my beloved father. But he wasn't here with me anymore.

   "Oh Abu," I spoke in a voice as low as a whisper. "Why did you have to leave me? I'm so alone right now." I complained, oblivious that it was pointless but still—I felt so lonesome. I wanted to cry, but I know if I did that, then the little courage I have will be lost. At this phase of my life—I cannot show any weaknesses. A woman is always taken for granted. I just hope that I have the strength to overcome that fact.

   I strode towards the play ground which I used to visit—it was the same as it was many years ago. It was getting dark and the street lamps were dimly lite. I didn't want to go back to that grouch of a husband. And I'm sure that he won't feel my absence. But Maghreb time was closing in.

   I popped a chewing gum into my mouth and started to look for a taxi. I had come here using one of the Hotel's vehicles, but I forget to tell them to wait up for me. There wasn't a taxi in sight.

   It was getting cold. The rain was starting again. There wasn't a sight of a taxi anywhere. I sighed. I could call for the hotel but I didn't bring my cell phone with me. I guess I'll have to walk there. It's not that far anyway.

   I could call Shehzad, but I'm sure that he wouldn't care. Besides he said it himself that he can't be seen together with me in public. Otherwise it will ruin his reputation. I can't believe that he's so selfish and self centered. He doesn't understand the sanctity of marriage or the holiness of the Nikah-nama at all. I guess that it was against his pride as an elite businessman to accept a girl an underdeveloped country.

   He was highly educated, good looking and of high standards, then how can I—whose education is incomplete, isn't mature enough and a penniless orphan—compete with him. But despite all that, I cannot let an inferiority complex form inside my personality.

   But I can't believe that I was feeling lucky to be married to such an immoral person earlier. Why is it that in front of me, he only discloses his demerits while in front of others, he's like a saint. I wonder if I should tell the Chairman about Shehzad's despicable behavior. But if I do that, then I'm no different from those sassy wives who report every mishap to outsiders. This is my problem so I should probably solve it by myself.

   When I exited the street, my eyes caught sight of a cab. I was saved, thank God. If Shehzad is back at the hotel room—will he be worried about me coming back so late or will he be mad about me causing him with an unnecessary problem.

   I arrived at the hotel. As soon as I entered, the manager came to me in a worried state. "Mademoiselle, your cousin was worried for you. He has called many times to check where you were?" he stated in a worried voice, in dialect was a mixture on English and French.

   "I'm very sorry if I caused you any trouble. I just had a few errands to run." I apologized and went running towards the elevators. Shehzad was worried for me? I can't believe it. He must be mad rather than worried.

   I stopped near the door to take in a few breaths—preparing for my impending doom.

   "Where the hell were you?" Shehzad shouted angrily at me when I entered the room. I sighed, took my boots off and flung my coat and hand bag on a nearby sofa. I didn't feel like answering his question. I moved forward to the sitting room.

   "Answer the damn question!" he urged impatiently, grabbing my arm. 

   "I'm sorry if I caused you any problems but I had a few errands to run, so I went out." I replied, smacking his hand away and sitting of an arm chair.

   "You could have at least told me. Do you know how much trouble you caused me?" he said—exasperated.

   "Were you worried about me?" I challenged.

   "Of course not! Don't kid yourself." He hissed through clenched teeth.

   "Then you shouldn't be asking me such questions. Besides, you don't tell me where you go off to, so if you don't care about me, then please don't make such a ruckus over a small issue." I settled the matter sternly. His stare intensified with irritation, fuming at me. I also stared sharply in his light blue green eyes. All of a sudden, we had entered into a staring contest.

   He sighed and left for the dining hall after a few moments.

   I was right. He was mad. But this time, it wasn't my fault at all. I can't help it if I feel lonely and deserted. I guess that I had made my point pretty clear because after that incident, Shehzad didn't bother me at all.

   For the rest of the trip, we took the Euro rail and visited Germany, Luxemburg, Belgium, Switzerland and Italy and Spain. 

   During that entire trip, we went off separately for sightseeing and whenever we would go together, we would pretend to be strangers—on the same path. He didn't so much as address me ever since the incident in Paris.

   I so badly wanted to hold his hand and walk side by side—just like how couples would do in romantic movies. But I was only deluding myself. Knowing his split and aggressive personality, I can only imagine it. But I so badly wanted to feel his warmth and his touch, especially in the cold climate of Europe.

   But I know that knowing my own self—I would most probably shrink from his touch in public. This is not how I had thought about my honeymoon. I was feeling lonely and isolated; with no one to talk to, to laugh with or to spend a good time with—though we stayed in the same room, slept on the same bed and ate on the same table—Shehzad wouldn't as much a give me a glance.

   Of course even I didn't give him any opening. I just silently observed him. And the first thing I learned about him—was that once he starts sulking, he acts like a child and wouldn't do anything unless the other party would make amends. But I wasn't an i***t so as to give in so easily and apologize. I still needed to learn a lot about him.

   The Chairman would call everyday to check on us and he would specifically ask me if Shehzad was working or enjoying himself—and I would innocently lie and tell him that we were having a great time—what else was there that I could do?

    As for my meals, luckily I knew of some Turkish and Arabic restaurants that I had visited with my family before—so having Halal meals wasn't that big of a deal. Shehzad didn't care if I ate from the seven star hotel cuisines or the low rate Asian street restaurants. I didn't do any shopping at all—how could I buy anything from anyone else' earned money. I wasn't a cheap girl so as to give into the glitz and glamour of the World—I'm a dignified, Gairat-mand woman.

   We returned back to New York after a term of a month and three days—complementary from the Chairman. He deliberately delayed our flight in Rome—and I so badly wanted to go to a place where I wouldn't have to see Shehzad's sulking face all the time.

   I was so tired of my miserable life—but I can't give up yet. There are many things that I have to do once I get back to New York City.

                                                                **********

   When I came back to NYC, it was early morning, around 8:00 a.m. Shehzad left for work as soon as we landed and Larry had to go through the trouble of taking me back to my  apartment again.

   When I arrived to the building, I carefully made it to the apartment without anyone knowing because I had to keep a low profile as par Shehzad's orders—I couldn't let anyone from the outside know that I was the Wife of President Shehzad Atish. According to Larry, all the high ranking officials of Shehzad's company resided in the same building.

   Charlotte was present when I entered. She asked me about the honeymoon trip. How could I tell her that it was the worst honeymoon in the history of all honeymoons.

   "It was fine." I said, handing her my coat and hand bag. I wanted to take a bath.

   "Excuse me madam, but the groceries have finished. I would have gone to buy them, but apparently, the Master had taken the card from me and had given it to you." She notified humbly.

   "No worries. I'll go right now. I was planning on buying the groceries anyway." I sighed. I was tired from the long trip, but now, I have to get to work.

   I took a quick tower and changed into fresh clothes—this time into a linen blouse and black jeans. I wrapped my head into a scarf, put on some jewelry and headed out. Now I looked like a normal single teenage Muslim girl.

   When I came to the living lounge, there was an old man there—he was dressed in a black uniform and his age seemed around sixty or sixty five. He got up when he saw me approaching him.

   "Madam, this is Hubert. He is the Chauffer in charge of escorting you around the city as par the Master's wishes." Charlotte informed.

   "It is an honor to make to be in your service, Mrs. Atish." He slightly bowed. His voice was very gentle.

   "Please to meet you too." I replied. I guess I can spoil myself a little bit too. After all, I have always ridden chauffer driven cars. I suppose Shehzad hired him so that he wouldn't have to trouble himself with me regarding transportation. I had wanted a car of my own. I guess I'll have to talk to the Chairman about my driver's license.

   Hubert told me to wait in the entrance lobby—but I followed him down to the underground parking lot. There were a lot of sports cars and convertibles parked there. I wondered how many convertibles Shehzad had.

   Hubert held an open door of a black BMW. It had the label of Atish Enterprises at the front. As we ascended to the ground floor, Hubert asked for the destination. I gave him an address in Brooklyn—luckily, Shumaila whose grandparents lived in Brooklyn had given me a few addresses regarding Halal meat stores and Pakistani grocery shops.

   It was very hot here—unlike Europe.

   My new life as a housewife begins today.

   I have found a new shade of white—it's sharp and petrifying.

                                                                       **********

   The smell of the Spices cooked in dried plums and Butter chicken had diffused into the air. For tonight, I decided to make Ami's famous Pot Biryani. I have been eating Turkish foods and of the sort for too long that I was beginning to forget the taste of Pakistani foods. Today was a very long and tiring day. I never knew that grocery shopping would take so long. And what was worst that the card Shehzad had given me was a credit card, which I hate the most. I had to call Suzan in the middle of the waiting line to know the pin number. After that, I came back to the apartment and sorted things out. I adjusted my stuff in the bedroom. All the closets were filled with Shehzad's garments and underwear—for a man, he was pretty tidy and kept his things in perfect order. I managed to get two closets for my things after sorting out his things.

    I haven't eaten anything; I've been waiting for Shehzad to come home so that we can eat together. But he has such weird eating habits. He only has one meal a day. If he skips out on lunch, then he must have dinner at all costs and if he misses dinner, then he must have lunch the next day—and he never has breakfast. Well at least that's what I've noticed—and among his favorite things; are smoking and drinking. But I've already come up with a solution to rid him of his horrid habits.

   I heard the sound of the elevator opening—he was home. I was dressed quite formally in a pale green Kurta with a Churi Dar pajama. I also went through all the trouble to put on some make up and small accessories. I did my best to look as pretty as I could for my dominatingly superior Husband.

    Shehzad came inside. He looked very tired and judging from the expression on his face—it was evident that he hadn't eaten anything since the flight.

   "Welcome back!" I said in a cheerful resonant voice—putting on my most perfect smile, I greeted him. "Asalam Alaikum." My heart beat accelerated.

   He gave me a frown and quickly turned away and began to take his take his coat off. "Here let me help you with that." I offered and took a hold of the coat from the back. "Get away from me!" he snapped furiously, shouting at me in English. I took a step back.

   I can't let his little tantrum get to me. I tried to keep my calm.

   He was going inside when I touched his shoulder. He turned around in bewilderment. "What do you want now?" he asked in dismay., his voice weary.

   "Listen, I know that we got off on the wrong foot," I began in English. "But I've decided something. Since we are married and we are going to be living together, then we should try to at least get along; if not as husband and wife then at least we can start off by being friends. I don't have any family of my own or relatives so I have no choice but to move forward since everything is a first for me. You're not the only one who is suffering from a change—I'm equally involved. So what do you say?" I coaxed—smiling jocundly at him.

   "Friends." I extended my hand forward for an agreement. His expression became neutral—maybe he was struggling with an answer. But after a few seconds of hesitation, he finally shook my hand. But he didn't say anything.

   I beamed at him happily. "Now let me take care of this." I said, taking his coat and laptop bag. "Go and sit on the table. I'll bring dinner." I told him contentedly. I was so thrilled that I managed to make him agree to something on my part—though I do doubt myself if sharing my situation with him was wise. His personality was very unpredictable. What if he used that small piece of information to manipulate me? But there isn't anything for me to lose. I wonder if the ball will remain in my court or not? I suppose I'll leave that in God's hands.

   After placing Shehzad's belongings on the bed, I hurried to the kitchen to fetch the Biryani dish from the microwave—Ami's first rule about a brilliant rice dish was so heat it in a Microwave oven in order to get the rich flavors and aroma out.

   Shehzad was sitting patiently at the table. He yawned twice—which displayed his weariness and exhaustion.

   "Sorry for the wait." I said, placing the dish in front of him. He frowned in puzzlement. "What is this?" he inquired in a low voice—eyeing the golden white and brown rice mixture.

   "Biryani—I made it especially for you." I conveyed. There was a strange glint n his eyes—he was surprised. His eyes grew distant.

   "What's wrong?" I asked kindly, touching his shoulder.

   "Nothing."

   "Don't tell me that you have never had Biryani before?" I chuckled. I wasn't surprised at all. It was natural for a half breed Pakistani to be deprived of such privileges. Even pureblood Pakistani's are deprived from many things.

   "That's not it. I have never had home cooked meals before."

   "Really...?? Then how did you survive all these years." I asked in a fairly teasing way.

   He chagrined.

   "Nevermind—so what did you do about your meals?" I asked.

   He didn't answer and began to fill his plate. His eyes were half covered by his bangs so I couldn't clearly read them. I guess he was curious enough to give a new tasting food a try because the frown was gone now. But the thing he said earlier made me wonder. Why did he say that he never had a home cooked meal before?

   But I decided to dismiss that question because I had bigger fish to fry.

   "Say.....you're of Pakistani heritage right, can I ask you a few things?" I asked innocently. He nodded, popping a spoon of rice in his mouth.

   "You haven't had any taste of your true origins, right?" I began. He didn't answer.

   "So would you prefer if I get you Acquainted to that part of yourself?"

   "What do mean?" he asked without looking at me. I knew he wouldn't understand so easily. So I had to come up with a plan.

   "Well, for example, would you always have dinner at home with me? I promise that you'll approve of a little change in your life. Variety is always good you know." I elaborated, putting some Biryani in my plate.

   "If that is the case, then I suppose it will be amusing. New experiences are always nice." He mumbled whilst eating.

   "Okay—it's a deal then. I'm glad that you agree with me." I smiled, placing my hand on top of his. His eyes bulged a little in surprise, but he didn't snatch his hand away—instead he carefully and gently removed it from my touch. We ate in silence but before he got up to leave, Shehzad told me something;

   "The Chairman wants to see us tomorrow. I won't be able to make it so you should probably go by yourself." He informed casually.

   "Don't worry. I'll go by myself. So work hard and don't worry about me." I claimed nonchalantly. He gave me a small glance of consideration and left.

   Charlotte was gone so I got busy with my night chores. When I came got back to the bedroom, Shehzad was fast asleep. I smiled gently at him. Time passed by pleasantly tonight. I wish that the days to come would also be the same, but I couldn't grant myself the luxury of any delusions—the Challenge has only just begun.

                                                         **********

   I woke up early at Fajr time. I felt an endless urge to wake Shehzad for the Fajr prayer, but I knew it would be in vain—he was a Pseudo Muslim after all. And telling them things concerning religion is like hitting yourself in the face.

   I prepared breakfast for him—I didn't know what he would like so a simple omelet would have to do. Shehzad woke up at 6:00 a.m. sharp and went to the gymnasium after refreshing himself. He stayed there for an hour. I saw him all dressed up by 7: 30. He was ridiculously punctual.

   "Good morning. I have breakfast ready." I declared jollily when he arrived at the living lounge. He was very fashionably dressed.

   "I don't have any breakfast. A cup of Starbucks coffee always suffices." He said without any care, glancing at his watch.

   "Well I've already made it. Would you like me to through it in the trash—the mere thought of wasting food is just so terrible. And I can't eat it all by myself, now can I?" I argued. He sighed. He didn't rebuke back, so I guess it was my victory.

   "Besides didn't we make an agreement yesterday? Now you have to abide by it." I finished solemnly. He didn't argue with me at all.

   So he has a great sense of curiosity. Because that was the expression he was wearing when he tasted my omelet. And what I inferred about him was that if he didn't like something, he would brush it aside. But his actions showed that he was slowly beginning to accept me.

   "Oh—and I wanted to talk to you about something," I stated, sliding the credit card on the table in his direction. "I work with cash. A credit card doesn't sit well with me." I announced seriously. Of course I couldn't use a credit card—especially if interest had to be paid later.

   "Why not? What's wrong with using a credit card?" He disputed.

   "I just don't like it. If you can give me a debit card, I can relax a bit." I declared. "No—just deal with what you get." He said strictly and walked briskly towards the door.

   "Wait." I rushed to him. "Don't forget this. It's your lunch." I handed him a lunch box. But he pushed it to my chest in refusal. "I don't need it." He yelled in revulsion and slammed the door at my face.

   What is wrong with him?

   Either my powers of persuasion were weak today or he was suffering from his mood swings again. I felt something fell on my hands.

   "What's this? Tears?" I noticed that my eyes were flowing.

   No—I cannot afford to cry. These are trying times and I will face them head on. I decided with sheer determination, wiping the tears off my face—I have to stay an optimist at all costs.

                                                                   **********

   The weather was cool, cloudy and a little bit windy. I was waiting in the rose Garden at the back of Atish Mansion. The Chairman had requested an audience with me and Shehzad—of course he refused but I already knew what the Chairman had called me here for. He most probably wanted a report on the honeymoon trip.

   I sipped the hot chamomile tea—it felt sublime. The flavor of the tea blended in perfectly with the harmony of my surroundings and the beauty and fragrance of the roses—there were all type of roses there. It made me wish that I could grow some roses of my own.

   Just thinking of roses reminded me of the empty green house on the balcony back at the apartment—a new idea arose at the back of my head.

   "I'm so glad that you're enjoying my precious roses." The Chairman professed when he saw that I was staring intently at the roses around me. I tried to get up when he approached me but he motioned with his hand to keep sitting. There was also a man coming with him. From the way he looked, with the black suit and sunglasses and the poker face, he must be the Chairman's private guard. Now that I think about it, there are many guards surrounding the vicinity of the mansion.

   "Yes they are very beautiful indeed." I complimented elatedly, coming out of my train of thoughts.

   "I grew them myself." The Chairman chuckled playfully. I was dazed.

    "You grew them yourself?"

    "Surprised are you? That a wealthy person such as me would do things that would cause me to work hard and shed sweat." The Chairman asserted, his expression turned solemn as he touched a nearby orange rose. I blinked—it was like he went inside my head.

   "Well, my dear—I may be a rich man, but even I come from humble origins." He pronounced modestly. He seemed to be lost in his thoughts as he caressed the rose.

   "Uh—dada Jaan.....," I disturbed him and brought him back to reality—but I could have sworn that I saw moisture at the corners of his eyes.

   "Ah—forgive me.....whenever I see these roses, I'm reminded of my beloved wife." He mumbled coherently.

   "Your wife?"I asked in bewilderment. Now that he mentioned it—the Chairman's wife had passed away many years ago. 

   "Yes. She loved roses, you see." He claimed humbly.

   A servant came with a package and handed it to the Chairman. "Oh I'm sorry; I dragged the conversation to a different direction. I wanted to give this to you." The Chairman handed the package to me. "You don't need to open it now. It's a portrait from your Walima party. I also had one family portrait made. It's hung in the Family hall." He told me joyfully.

   I tugged the package in my lap. "And the other thing that I wanted to talk to you about is that I have enrolled you in ST. Agatha's Academy—it's a private elite school. My other grandchildren also attend this school." He handed me a book. It was the school Prospectus. I glanced at it.

   "This is very surprising. I didn't know that I would get the chance to complete my education." I spoke with a lot of excitement.

   "Well, of course. If I didn't let you do that, then it will be Zulm on you. It's your fundamental right to get educated—especially if you're so keen to study. You have a lot of potential that shouldn't be wasted. You aren't made to sit at home. I sense that God created you for a special purpose, my dear." The Chairman said, passing his hand over my head. It felt so tender. I could feel his love. He wasn't related to me by blood, but I felt as he was my real grandfather—I never had the honor of having a Grandfather to seek wisdom from—but this man was filling that space. I was so gratified to him, that I wanted to cry.

   "And don't worry about the uniform. It's been taken care of." The Chairman uttered, snapping me out of my train of thoughts.

   "Dada Jaan—you are such a nice and wise person. Pakistan could really use a person of your caliber."  I spoke with a lot of fervor.

   "Hmm—yes you're right." he mused.

   "Then didn't you ever consider going back and settle their permanently for retirement."

   He smiled at me. "You are such a lovely child. I don't know why, but you remind me of my Gulshan." He alleged—his face turned melancholy.

   "Gulshan...?"

   "Here" The Chairman handed me a small picture. It was in black and white. There was a young man standing beside a young woman who was sitting on a chair. She was wearing a dark colored Sari. She was very pretty and very young looking.

   "That is me with Gulshan." The Chairman pointed out.

   "She's quite a beauty." I commented wholeheartedly.

   "Yes—she was my strength through my dire times. Just like you, she told me to settle in Pakistan. But....." the Chairman trailed off.

   "You didn't listen to her..?" I guessed, saying bluntly.

   The Chairman's face became troubled. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to pry or be rude." I said nervously.

   "No—you're right. It was my fault that I didn't listen to her in time. But at that time, I was blinded by the l**t of money and materialism." The Chairman covered his mouth. I saw that he was struggling to hold on to his tears. "It's been such a long time since then. If only I had listened to her then, then I wouldn't be so wretched today. I have ruined myself by my own hands." He confessed sorrowfully—his voice thick with remorse.

   "Please drink some water." I handed him a glass of water and rubbed him hands that had turned cold suddenly.

   "If you feel like talking then I don't mind. I understand that you have had to stay quiet and keep a lot of things cooped up inside of yourself." I offered.

   "You're so kind." He smiled childishly. "I suppose I have finally found someone who might understand. It's a long story. But let me tell you everything. I don't want to be silent anymore." The Chairman had lost all sorts of composure. He had completely relaxed himself in his seat. I sat on the ground beside him, holding his hand very gently.

   "Well......it all began when I came to New York City to study law. I was inspired by the great Quaid e azam Muhammad Ali Jinnah. My Family were land owners in the provinces of Sindh and Baluchistan. My father had wanted me to inherit his lands after him since I was his only son, but I was more interested in Law. But when I became a full time lawyer, my father and mother died—thus leaving all their property in my hands. I returned back to Karachi, where I got married to Gulshan, who was my betrothed since childhood. I sold off all of the lands and saved that money for later. I took Gulshan with me and we settled in New York City after getting our citizenships. Here, she gave birth to Umair and Mansoor." He paused, sighing heavily.

   "Although my practice was going wonderful and we were completely well off, but it didn't satisfy me. Soon I got bored and in order to satisfy my boredom, I used the money that I had saved up to buy some land in the US. I thought about starting my own business. It was very strange from the beginning so I thought about starting poultry business. But it didn't go so well. And before I realized it, I had used up all of my money on it too. I tried to go back into law practice, but it didn't go so well either. At that time, Gulshan supported me tirelessly but she always advised me to go back to Pakistan. She was always homesick, but I didn't listen to her. And in time, she contracted small pox and died. I fell into utter despair. But I remembered all her saying. She had such profound Faith and I realized that I had stopped trusting in God and had taken everything for granted. I redeemed myself and got back on my feet. I started looking for investors to invest in me, but no one did. I went back into practicing law. And when I got back in track, I decided to sell that land and I immediately found buyers as well. But before I could sell that land, a friend of mine who was a researcher, told me that he discovered oil beneath my land. And that became the starting point of my new life and well the rest is history."

   The Chairman took a sip of water and continued. "I made a pact with many other major oil companies and using that, I made a lot of money and that's where my business expanded. But that is where I got distracted from the right path. The first mistake I made was that I married to a business partner's daughter. She gave me my other children. I became so engrossed in my new found life that I didn't notice all the wrong things that were happening around me. My children had grown up without my supervision and they were completely ignorant about the ways of Islam. Only Umair and Mansoor remembered what Gulshan had taught them. That's why Umair married a Pakistani girl. But as for the others—my second wife, Rebecca who was also a very staunch Businesswoman—she involved all my other children in arranged political marriages. And there was nothing I could do about it. The next generation was freer and more complex. They began their own lives. But they were still bound to me. After Rebecca's assassination, I made sure that I would amend my ways by making my bloodline see the light again. My own children weren't getting along the path of righteousness but at least I could make my grandchildren see the light......"

   "By making them take Muslim Pakistanis as life partners." I finished his sentence for him. "And I was the first piece of the puzzle." I said.

   The Chairman smiled. "There is also another reason; I believe that eastern girls are stronger in character and are very willful. They are even stronger in faith. Shehzad has always been a troubled child but he is the most deserving and hardworking among all of my children, just like his father Mansoor. But I believe that by entering Islam into his life—he may overcome all his troubles. And when I first saw you, I knew right away that you can—with the grace of God almighty, bring him to the true path—to Sirat e Mustiqeen."

   "And I don't know why; but I see Gulshan's strength in you. I know that you will bring my most cherished grandchild to the path of Allah. I pray that your union with Shehzad will absolve me of some of my sins" The Chairman finished and tried to get to his feet. I helped him up.

   "Oh and you may be right; maybe I should do the thing that Gulshan had asked me so long ago. I should settle in Pakistan after my retirement from the position of Chairman." He turned to smile at me. "You see these roses—these are species that grow in Pakistan only—I had them specially ordered from Pakistan in memory of Gulshan—hence the name Gulistan e Gulshan(Rose garden of Gulshan)."  He chuckled, regaining facial composure again. I smiled too.

   It was a very sad and melancholy story that the Chairman told. It made me come across another shade of white—the forlorn white of amendments.

                                                                     **********