THE DIFFERENT SHADES OF WHITE (BOOK 1)

Chapter 1- The Threads Of Fate

My senses began to work when I heard the sound of the Mu'azin's call for prayer from the nearby Masjid. It was Fajr time now; only a few moments before sunrise. Watching the sun rise from a peaceful village is always soothing. But nowadays, nothing is soothing for me.

After the death of my parents and little brother, I was bought in by my paternal relatives. It's almost been a week since then. The police are still investigating into it. They were killed in a hit and run accident. I was living in Karachi. My father was a very successful businessman. Though he could only open a small factory in the beginning, but in the previous days, his business expanded. Although he came from a very well known and profound family and lineage, my father had worked hard and made his own fortune. That raised a lot of resentment and jealousy towards my family from my relatives.

My paternal family is part of the infamous landlords of Punjab or more like the feudal lords of old.

Old family and old family traditions.

Initially, my relatives still obey the classic Punjabi customs and are bind to them. These customs were very ancient, which is one of the root causes why my father always kept me and my brother from ever meeting with my relatives or coming to Punjab.

At least they were decent enough to take me in. but I don't completely trust them. They must have some sort of ulterior motives.

My grandfather is the village leader and the chief Chaudhery. Most of the lands in this village belong to him. My father was the second son in line. He could have inherited some of the lands, but after his death, I guess that that right of inheritance goes to me, but after my father's death, I didn't inherit a single dime. All the money in his major accounts vanished over night, and the rest of the little property he had, my grandfather and my uncles are handling it—at least that is what I was told.

The next in line of kin to my father was my mother. If I don't do something about this, then surely, my relatives will usurp it all. What will I do if that happens. I'll need that money to continue my studies. One of the rotten old customs of the Chauderies of Punjab is to keep women from acquiring education.

But I know one thing for sure; I absolutely cannot trust these people. If Abu didn't, then I will not either. This whole situation is a lot more complicated then I thought.

"Urge...," I mourned. All this thinking so early in the morning is going to cause my migraine to return. I was finally able to get a good night's sleep last night. But I had to use sedatives for that matter. After the funeral, which was held in the village and I shifted here, I couldn't get even a wink of sleep. It was mainly due to my constant mourning and sadness. Second was the fact that I kept on blaming Fate for my situation.

Another shade of white......., the merciless white of Fate.

**********

After performing the ablution, I felt quiet refreshed. Ami always told me that the ablution cleanses the body and the Nama'az refreshes the soul. My sloppiness during the past weak caused me to miss all my prayers. I feel guilty. I have no right to blame all of this on God. I just hope that God has something good in store for me in the near future.

After I finished, I raised my hands for Du'a. There was only one thing that I wanted from ALLAH now. "Oh ALLAH, please take care of me, You are my only salvation and my protector. I leave my fate in your most capable hands. Also please grant my family a place in heaven and forgive them for their sins....." I had realized that my eyes had welled up. "Please oh my Lord, my Rabb, please forgive me. I don't know anything but I have this feeling that maybe you are punishing me for some crime that I might have committed. If so, then please, please forgive me." Wiping my hands on my face, I got up and took out the Qur'an. I need God's guidance, especially at this trifling time of calamity.

I had just begun, when I heard a knock on my door. "Come in," I shouted. "Good you're awake," a familiar voice came from the door. It was Zainab baji, my eldest first cousin the daughter of Taya jaan, my first uncle. She was around twenty seven and already a mother of three children. She was the only person who I'm familiar with in this alien like environment. She lives in Karachi with her husband who is a very wealthy industrialist. Abu had once held some business with him. Since then, she has been visiting me. She is not an educated woman but at least her mentality is very decent and refined. She was the one who escorted me to the village.

She walked toward the bed and sat beside me. Looking at the Qur'an in front of me, she gave me a sweet yet pitied smile. "Your parents had indeed raised you well. I'm glad to see you looking refreshed. I can see that you have made the decision of moving forward instead of dwelling in the past." She commended bluntly. I tried to smile. "Do I have much of a choice...?" I replied in a low voice, which was a bit hoarse, due to the heavy sleep. She patted my head and kissed my forehead. I suppose she had wanted to say more, but refrained from it.

"Did you come here for something....?" I said half heartedly. I am a very extroverted person, but at this moment, I just wanted to be alone.

"Ha-ha...you found me out. Actually I just came to tell you that breakfast is ready and everyone is waiting for you at the table. So if you feel like it, come along, otherwise I'll have your breakfast sent to your room."

"No, its fine. I'll come. Besides I've been cooped up in this room for far too long. It's suffocating me." I said and closed the Qur'an and respectfully placed it back in its place. "I'll change and be down in a few moments, Zainab Baji." I informed and headed to the dressing room. I changed into a plain Shalwar Kurta suit. Of course in this place, I can't wear my normal attire of jeans and shirts. A big city girl like me will have a hard time adjusting to this new life—though; this is my first time, visiting my ancestral village or any village for that matter.

Anyway, I'm not planning to settle here, it's only temporary. After the matter of my inheritance has been cleared, I'll go back to Karachi. I need to start sending out forms for university soon. I'm sure that if I became a financial burden to my grandfather or uncles, then they will never let me join any university or let me continue my studies. It's only my educations that I can rely on. It's my pride. I do hope the matter of my inheritance is sorted out quickly.

I made it down the stairs and into the vast family hall. For a mansion or a so called Haveili, it sure was modern. Like any other urban person, I thought that village life must be very primitive. But I have to say I'm a little disappointed. The walls were decorated with the finest wall paper and the family pictures and portraits were held within exquisite and intricate designed wooden frames. They seemed like Victorian. For people who live according to old customs, they have good taste. Everything looked so expensive. Huge jeeps and expensive cars were lined outside. Now that I think about it, my relatives only make their livelihood through agriculture and cultivation of crops. Maybe they must also be in politics. Even I was brought up in a simple yet subtle upbringing, although I belonged to the high middle class society of Karachi. But these people seem ultra rich to me.

I arrived at the dining room. Everybody was there. My four uncles and their families. Joint family system-Zindabad- I guess.

Only grandfather and grandmother were absent. I could see that the first two seats were left empty. Maybe they would come later. The table was pretty long, like a rectangle. The voices of the children and the chattering of adults saturated the air.

When I approached the table, all of a sudden, everyone went silent. All the adults put on a sympathetic mask and began to gawk at me. It began to feel as if the atmospheric pressure increased on me. Maybe it was because I was bear headed. All the females had their heads covered. I quickly draped the dupatta all my hair. Another custom I suppose or maybe just a sign of respect. I took a seat beside Zainab Baji, who was busy in handling her 6 month old daughter.

I really envy all these people. Even though we are relatives, practically family, but we are still strangers to one another. These people had their own families to rely upon. But me, I'm all alone. I have no one to rely on except for myself and ALLAH. I have to become stronger and hold my head high. I will not let people see me as a helpless orphan. I will not let anyone pity me. I will work hard and depend on myself alone. This I vow to myself.

I can't afford the luxury of dreaming or hoping for any expectation from anyone. I ran my eyes over the faces of all the people present there, with confidence. I could hear people mutter my name.

"Isn't that Asif's daughter......poor her....," I heard an old lady whisper that to one of my uncles. He caught me looking at them and his expression became somewhat stern and angry. Was it because someone pitied me? It caused a chill to run down my spine.

"Humph....," he breathed and with his arms crossed and head held high, he began to talk in a semi loud and arrogant voice. "Don't pity that girl, it's her father's fault that this all happened. Those who disobey the rules of this house end up cursed. Such is the fate of some." I couldn't tell if he spoke directly or indirectly, but his words stabbed me. I clenched my fists hard to control my anger. If I was my normal self and under my parents protection, I could easily fight back. But since my position was reduced, I have no choice but to be patient and bear with it. But I didn't understand what he meant by what he said. How dare he sully my father, his own deceased elder brother's name?

I possess a strong character and I retaliate whenever I get the opportunity, but I guess that for now, not until I get my inheritance, I'll just stay silent.

I gulped down a glass of fresh milk. Breakfast would not begin until the elders of the house arrived. After a while, everyone suddenly stood up.

"Eh...!" I exclaimed and turned my head in confusion. Zainab Baji motioned for me to stand as well. When I did so, I saw my grandparents enter the room and settled on their seats and everyone did the same. There was utter silence in the room in the presence of the elders. The infants were taken away by the governesses. The servants began to serve fresh halwa puri and chana masala.

'At least their taste in food is traditional." I thought—feeling a little pleased. I love Pakistani customs regarding food and clothing—especially, halwa puri. My stomach was growling. I suddenly recalled that I hadn't eaten anything for the past twenty-four hours. "Bismillah," I breathed and began. Breakfast finished longer than I expected. Not until the elders left the room, no one was allowed to leave. When everyone left, Zainab Baji invited me to her estate, she wanted to show me the fields, the magnificence and the pride of Punjab. I always wanted to see and explore the beautiful places of my country. Abu and Ami always told me that the fields of Punjab, their produce and their beauty can never be compared with any other place in the world.

And they are, just as my parents had said. As soon as I stepped out of the haveili and out the main gate, I was overwhelmed. The air was so fresh and clean. It relieved my nerves and untied the knots in my stomach. The sun was blazing and the heat swept through me. A strange peaceful feeling crossed through me. I spread out my arms and faced the sky. I love this feeling so much.

"You seem relaxed now, huh....," Zainab Baji came from behind me and covered my head with the dupatta that had fallen to my shoulders. "But be careful about the way that you act around here. The men around here do not respect a woman who does not cover her head. And keep your eyes low, okay." She smiled and went ahead of me. I followed her into the wheat fields. I guess that even village life has its own etiquettes

It was harvest time going on in the month of june. It was the first time I saw pure wheat. Everything here was a first for me. Thankfully, the best part of Punjab was given to Pakistan at the time of partition.

I ran my hand over the wheat heads; their smooth hair tickled my palms. This place isn't my home. But I would have loved it if Abu had had good relations with the relatives; otherwise I could also call this place my home and come here at any time. Well, no matter, at least I have my freedom of choice.

I sat on the dirt and took a handful of it and inhaled deeply. Ah the sweet fragrance of my country. Alas, my parents have been returned to the very soil which God created them. Someday, even I will be buried in this soil and my blood will mix in it and my bones will turn to dust.

"Hey," Zainab Baji yelled from afar. I came out of my trance and followed after her. "Why the depressing look?" she questioned when I came near. It was only because I was thinking about depressing things. I shook my head and started forward. Thankfully, today, in the fields, under the warm sun, my day went well.

************

Zainab Baji escorted my back to the main haveili after a boat ride in the Jhelum River. This village was only thirty kilometers away from Jhelum town. By the time I got back, it was already ten o clock. I had only entered when a servant told me that I was requested an audience with my grandfather.

"Eh..... Dada Jaan wants to see me?" I asked, to confirm it. Now that I think about it, I haven't spoken to him since I came here; it was only Zainab Baji that informed me about any latest developments. He affirmed in the positive and took me to the main hall. Grandfather and two of my uncles were there. Grandfather was sitting on an elegant looking charpai, in a very chauhdery type manner. When I entered, I took my shoes off since the room was probably laid with Romanian carpets. The room was filled with the smell of smoked tobacco and paan.

Everyone else left when they saw me at the door. When we were alone, I respectfully approached him.

"Asalam alaikum, Dada jaan." I humbly greeted him. I could be wrong, but he was scowling at me. I could sense a menacing aura around him. His facial expression was stern. It sent a bolt of lightning through me. I lowered my head.

'Why the hell are these people treating me like a damn stranger believe it or not, I am a member of this household.' I thought, with annoyance. But I didn't let it come to my face. "Take a seat." Dada jaan initiated. I obeyed. I sat on a nearby chair. Worry and nervousness was beginning to creep through me. Maybe he had wanted to talk to me about my inheritance. Just that fact was enough to ease my tension. I gulped. He looked me, his small eyes became a little wide and he sat upright. There some papers, documents and a laptop placed on the coffee table. Maybe it really was about my problem.

"I will start off honestly and bluntly. You are the last remaining existence of my deceased son. And you are very young, so in regards to the property that your father had made, from today onwards I will take care of it. However, the house that is in Karachi was is in your name, so here are the property documents to it. I will not discuss anymore of this matter with you." He spoke in a very authoritative tone, which left me dumbfounded. My heart skipped a beat.

"What do you mean by that, I don't understand?" I said in a rather painful tone, though I had understood everything. So he was telling me that all of my father's hard worked earning was going to go into someone else' pocket.

He sighed. "As I said, you are too young and when you are off age, and legitimate enough, you will be given the right of inheritance." He said. So in other words, I have been stripped of the only right that could buy me future. And this person has now truly turned me into a helpless orphan. Tears were beginning to form at the corner eyes.

'No! I have to be strong right now and rebel.' I thought and held my tears.

"B-but you can't do that," I mustered up enough courage to retaliate. " I have my rights. It's my father's life long, Halal, earning, you can't take it away." I jumped to my feet.

"SIT DOWN!" He shouted.

It scared me and I collapsed in my seat. He looked furious. "And who says that I have no right. I am the head of this house. Only I have the right." He claimed proudly. "You are one insolent brat! I can see that your worthless mother has taught you no manners or respect." He said haughtily.

His words began to boil my blood. I clenched my teeth and fists. How dare he insult my mother? But I dare not say a word about it.

"But according to the law and shari'a, I am an heir to my father's wealth. I get half of the inheritance." I gulped. I had put all of my strength into that last sentence as i recalled the verses eleven to fouteen of Surah-an-Nisa.

His eyes turned to slits. His stare was cold and his chagrin increased tenfold. "And furthermore, you are f*******n to deprive an orphan from her rights of entitlement." I know that he cannot challenge God's jurisprudence.

"How dare you challenge my authority?" He shouted in a high pitched voice. "I am Asif's father. What I say goes and you will silently obey." He stressed on his words with shear force. It felt like a ten ton weight was dropped on me that I couldn't speak another word. I was completely besieged with fear. Grandfather's face was beyond frightening now.

Now I understand why Abu never brought me here to meet people like these; these arrogant and hot headed people. He won't even follow the Islamic law. So basically, he is a hypocrite, using Islam for his own advantage.

By the time I came to my senses, my body was trembling. Tears were gushing involuntarily. I lowered my face to hide them. There was only one thing left for me to ask.

"W-what about my e-education?" I inquired in a shaking voice. Grandfather stood up and treaded a few steps ahead of me. Only his back faced me.

"That matter will be up to your husband." He spoke very clearly and very precisely. But to me, it felt as if a bomb had exploded. I felt the blood drain from my face.

"What?" I muttered in disbelief. Grandfather faced me and his facial expressions showed his resolved. My mouth hung open. But he didn't show any concern what so ever.

"The day after tomorrow, you will be wedded to Shehzad Atish, the grandchild of the head of the Atish Family and the Atish Group Industries. This is an infamous family of industrialists. They reside in New York City. Just like you, Shehzad is the first born and only son on the second son. We have made many business propositions with them, however, this time, they requested a marriage contract. It seems that they only take Pakistani or eastern brides and since you are the only available one, so that only makes you the perfect candidate. When your visa has been confirmed, you will go there." He finished resolutely.

But I was still dumbfounded. So, they leave me penniless, helpless and now in order to get rid of me, they are going to send me away to strangers in some foreign country. But I still have to fight; I will not let these people have their way.

"But how can I marry, according to you I'm very young so why must I be tied to a marital bond with a complete stranger." I said in a strong tone, my face held up. I didn't care if it was tearstained or not.

He breathed heavily. "Yes you are young but are old enough to marry. Besides, it is a family custom of arranged political marriages. The girls are wedded off when they turn sixteen and you will be eighteen in a few months. So you are more than ready."

"Yes but that custom only applies to the girls of this house and from what I have experienced, I am clearly not a member of this family." I shot back. I can't argue beyond that nor can he force anything on me. And I was right. He was silent.

"You will obey me. Besides, you have no other choice. They requested a bride of noble blood from one of the most prestigious families of this country; you should feel honored about such a proposal. Now what is your answer?" he asked in a strict voice.

I jumped to my feet and walked toward him. I looked him in the eye and gave him my reply.

"I refuse!" I said sternly, with a lot of resolute in my voice. For a fraction of a second, he looked surprised. But I needed to fight even further.

"As for my share of the inheritance, I can easily take it from you by the help of the courts and the law. And I will not let you control my life." I retorted back with a lot of courage. But before I knew it, the palm of his hand hit my cheek and I fell to the floor. When I looked at him, he was fuming, raging with anger. The slap left me dumbstruck. I have never ever been slapped at before in my life. My brain was shaking and my cheek was throbbing with pain.

"You insolent, disrespectful woman.....how dare you try to threaten me. I can have your head for this rebellion. You have the same stubbornness as your damned father." He shouted and then began to cough. Using that opportunity, he got away from me and sat on the charpoy. After a few deep breaths, He composed himself.

"Then I will give you another option. Either you marry or you are sent to an orphanage. Either way, you have no other choice but to leave this place. You do not belong here. Whichever alternative you choose is up to you. As for court, I own the courts and how can you go to one? I would have you killed before you could even think about leaving this place. I have high security here, so you can get rid of any ideas of escape from your mind. Just because you were born and bred in the city does not mean that you can be proud about anything. Don't even try to make the same mistakes as your father. We will not be the only people benefiting from this union but you as well,"

"You have until nine o clock tonight to give me your reply. Now leave my presence." He said in a firm tone.

I ran out of that room. What a horrible person, he is pure evil. How could he inflict such pain on an orphan like me? I hate him. I hate this place. I need to get away from here. I will not let these people control my fate and future. Only God has the right to do that. Ami, Abu, this is your entire fault. Why did you have to die? I wouldn't be in this mess if you hadn't died.

Another shade of white; the shade of hatred and despicableness.

**********

After my encounter with my vicious grandfather, I don't know for how long I had been crying. How easily he wanted to ruin my life by making me marry some stranger from another country? How easily he wants to deprive me of my freedom, the only factor on which I was risking everything. I had prided myself for being a civilized modern to date girl, but he smashed my pride like it was nothing.

I hate this custom of early marriages. If that happens to me, then I will never be able to move forward. So this was the ignorant mentality of the arrogant villagers of Punjab.

"How long are you going to keep on crying your eyes out?" Zainab Baji inquired; I realized that I had soaked her Kurta with my tears.

"Oh Baji! What I am going to do, that man is a tyrant. He wants to get rid of me that badly that he will marry me off to any stranger he comes across." I wept and buried my head in her chest, and like a mother, she tenderly embraced me.

"Come on now, it isn't all that bad. You should be grateful that you're going to marry someone from such a distinguished family. If it were up to Dada Jaan, if he had wanted he could have wedded you off with some illiterate but he was considerate enough to have you marry someone whose mentality can be compatible with yours." She tried to cheer me up, but this entire marriage business was very depressing for me.

"I don't care. There is no difference. I don't want to marry. Why do these people hate me so much? What wrong did I ever do to them that they so carefully planned to destroy my life?" I cried and the tears kept on dripping down my face. She wiped them off but it was all in vain. I don't think that anything can stop my tears tonight.

"And to add insult to injury, those people keep on humiliating my deceased parents. Why? Why is everyone so mean here? Baji......, you know right, please tell me." I pleaded. There was so much mystery wrapped in enigma around this place. My head was beginning to spin from all the confusion.

Zainab Baji was quiet for a few seconds but then she made me sit upright and wiped my face again. "Have some water, and then I will tell you everything." She handed a glass of water from the bedside table to me and I was completely dehydrated. I drank, it hurt my throat. My eyes must have swollen badly. But I was beginning to feel as if more bad news was on its way.

When I relaxed a bit, I looked at Zainab Baji's face. Her expression was wistful and sad. "The reason why everyone treats you so coldly is because of your father. You know that education is not given much importance in our family because of our vast wealth. But your father was different. He was of strong character and very hard working too. He believed, just like you, that through education, only then can a person learn to live in this era. But Dada Jaan was against it. But your father was defiant and he left the family for the cities, where he worked hard to support himself. That was the first time that anybody had ignored the customs, which is a code of life for us. Instead of taking care of the lands and the family business, your father continued his studies and eventually started his own business. After that, he went to England for his professional degree. That had showed a great degree of defiance from your father's part. When he came back, an arranged marriage was decided for him, and that was the only tradition which he absolutely could not deny. But he did when he married your mother. He was very head strong and he didn't let our family's traditions and norms control his life. And from that point onwards, he was disowned by Dada Jaan." She spoke in a rather half hearted manner. Sadness further etched her face.

Now everything made sense. "But why do these people resent me so much?" I sniffed. I just wanted to know the whole truth. She bit her lower lip.

"That's because they think that your mother stole him away. She was a very educated woman, and Dada jaan was already against the education of women. And so natural enmity arouse in the family elders against you and your mother. They think that an educated woman is hard to control and is, thus, Man's natural enemy. That's why, my advice to you Khadija, is that you should obey Dada Jaan's wish. In this way, maybe, you might become a part of this family and your inheritance might be returned back to you." She spoke in a very lonely and forlorn tone.

"What do you mean by that?" I queried. She was quiet. She sighed and answered slowly. "If you don't comply, then they will either marry you off to some feudal lord, which is your worst option, or they will send you off to some village orphanage, and you can forget about ever returning to Karachi. So the only thing that is best for you is that you just accept this. Besides, you have no other place to go, now is there?" she finished and stood up from the bed, leaving me stunned and dazed.

"You only have an hour to give your answer. So think hard. A life of hardships or a life of comforts, but you will have to sacrifice some of your wishes and you will have to compromise."

"Marriage is not the solution to y problem.......if I really am a burden then they should send me off to an orphanage in Karachi."

"I told you before that they will never ever send you back to Karachi, after all, the blood of Chaudheries is running through your veins and the family doesn't deny this fact either. You are very lucky because the world is never kind towards unprotected women. The world devours them like ravenous wolves."

"That is not fair....," I winced, my voice low.

"We are women," she lifted my head and peered down on my face. "It's never easy for us and life is never fair with us, you will learn this principle soon enough." She said decisively. It only invited more tears in my eyes. "But I'm only seventeen, this is Zulm. This is oppression and t*****e. My freedom will be taken away from me." I sobbed. Zainab Baji wiped my face again.

Her face became pensive. "I envy you. You are just like your parents. But alas—such is the fate of all women. Only a few are fortunate. The age difference is not much; after all, I was married off at the age of sixteen. A woman's role in life is to be married and take care of her husband and her dignity lies in the sanctity of her husband and children' home." She finished and walked to the door. She gave me a sad smile. Her eyes were full of sympathy for me.

"Think about what I said carefully." She insisted again and left.

So......this is how it's going to be. So I really have no other choice. Baji was right. I really have no other place to go. My maternal grandparents had passed away a few years ago, so the only relatives left from my mother's side, was an aunt. But even she was settled abroad.

And when it comes to my marriage; I had never ever given it a thought before. Ami and Abu had always kept me engrossed in studies so I never gave it any consideration. Of course, I had left it in their hands. We had an agreement that if I came to like someone on my own, and if he is worthy, then my parents will not object, otherwise, it was always going to be an arranged marriage for me. That's the way how our society rolls.

And even if it was an arranged marriage, then it would have taken place when my education was complete. The very idea of marriage was miles away from my perception. But even then, not until I could form a bond with that person, I could never acknowledge him as my life partner. So how will I be able to evaluate that stranger who has been chosen to be my husband?

I never thought about a love marriage. For me, love happens best when you have settled down with the person that you have chosen as your soul mate. At least that's what I thought. And I have no such objections regarding that matter. But a marriage at my age is way too early. And not to mention that they say that I'll have to settle abroad.

But I had never planned on settling abroad, much less USA. My parents raised me in a purely patriotic environment. To me, Pakistan is my home. I could never abandon it. I always wanted to serve my country. No matter what had happened in the previous years, I still love my country. Only here; do I feel a sense of belonging.

Well, I assume that I can always come back. I have decided. I have made my resolve. Besides, if I don't agree to this, then there is nothing that I have to lose. In the end, I only seek God for justice.

GOD WILL GIVE ME JUSTICE.

I remember the quote from the film the count of Monte Cristo. Or rather, my situation is starting to resemble Edmond's. He was sentenced to life imprisonment without trial. Well—I feel the same way. But he was able to free himself, but I can't. He had his limits and I have mine.

**********

I gave my answer. There was no use in retaliating anymore. If this was my fate, if this was what ALLAH decided for me then who am I to object.

But still, I couldn't get my heart to agree. From now on, I will be at someone else's mercy. For now, I will surrender and comply with their wishes. I leave my fate in God's hands. I have no ulterior motives. I'm too weak to have them. I discovered another shade to white; the shade of defeat and helplessness. It leaves a person transparent and insignificant.

The next day, they explained the procedure to me, but I wasn't mentally present at that time. "This is Shehzad." Grandfather showed a picture of him from the laptop, but I didn't bother to look. I didn't want to wrap myself in any false expectations. I didn't even peek a glance at him.

"He is twenty years old and due to his father's death, he had to take his father's place as the President of one of the enterprises' wings. So there is not much age difference between the two of you. As you can see, he is very good looking, and very well off. So you should not have any objections. Since he was born and raised there, he is an American citizen and after you migrate there, you will also be granted citizenship, in due time," he explained. I didn't want to acquire any citizenship that would mean that once I turn eighteen, I won't be able to become a true citizen of Pakistan. But today, I kept my mouth shut. I was being very careful. The cold hard slap across my face the other day, kept me tongue tied.

"The Nikah ceremony will be held via satellite video coverage. Due to some personal reasons, they demanded an immediate marriage contract, which is more reliable for them. They cannot personally come here, but it will be valid enough. They have asked nothing for your dowry. They want this to be done in complete simplicity and I too am in concordance with them. That is all for now, you may leave." He motioned with his hand and began to look through some papers. I slowly got up. There was something that I wanted from him.

"Dada Jaan. I have a request." I tried to speak as politely as I could, pushing aside my resentment and anger. He shook his head. "Speak..," he ordered.

I inhaled deeply.

"I would like to return to Karachi after the Nikah ceremony is over. There are some things that I must handle there and besides, you will be in need my passport, so....," I gulped. His old wrinkled face became hard but today, his eyes were somewhat, less hard. My request was very simple. And he couldn't refuse it. After the Nikah, I won't have any escape route anymore. And if I wanted to run away, where would I run away to.

He became deep in thought. Even if he refused, I'll present such an argument to him that he won't be able to refuse me at all. Besides, after

"Hmm.....if it is after the Nikah, then I suppose that it is fine. But you will only go there for three days and will be in Zainab's custody. You can mail us your passport as soon as you get there. Is that understood?" He asked sternly. I nodded in the affirmative.

I left the room quickly. Everything about this place was making me sick. I just wanted to get away from here as quickly as possible. When I got to my room, I turned on my cell phone which I had left off since the funeral. As expected, all of the people in my phone book had called me. Over sixty-eight missed calls were there. However, the Wi-Fi connection here was superb. I logged into face book and wrote a status that I never thought I'd ever write.

"WELL GUYS............I'M GETTING MARRIED TOMORROW......"

**********

I was dressed in a very simple but heavily embroidered blood red wedding dress. They made no attempt to spend even I dime on me because everything that was on my body, seemed very old and cheap. Even the gold jewelry set I wore was relatively heavy, but not to my taste, it was solid gold. If only it had some stones to adorn it. Otherwise it looked this hideous set looked like the shackles that are about to bind me to an unaltered fate. And this simple dress, seemed like the clothing of a prisoner. My face was heavy with makeup. It truly concealed my facial expressions. Anybody who saw me now would only see a porcelain doll, whose exterior was beautiful but her internal state was broken.

I was brought in the main family drawing room. There was a wide screen LCD TV in front of a sofa set. One of my elder male cousins was trying to adjust a laptop with the TV. After I was seated, I could see that my cousin was trying to connect Skype to the TV. So this is how the ceremony will commence.

Knots were beginning to form in the pit of my stomach. This is not how I had imagined my own wedding day. I had imagined that the reception theme would be according to my beautiful wedding dress, the air would be dense with the fragrance of roses. There would be a lot of guests. My best friends would help me get ready for my special day. And my parents would bless me and shower me with their love. But they weren't here right now. I was in the midst of strangers.

My heart was throbbing. It was getting hard to breath. I was beginning to feel faint. All of my energy was beginning to fade away. I was beginning to feel anemic. I couldn't sleep all night and I hadn't had anything to eat since breakfast. I was evening now. In America, it must be morning.

I saw my grandparents enter and behind him was the Maulvi. So, my time of freedom has truly been shortened. My breathing accelerated. The muzziness inside my head increased. After everyone was settled, my grandmother and Zainab Baji sat beside me. On the screen, appeared an old man and I could swear that at first glance, he looked like Steve jobs to be. He was beaming widely, the expression on his face showed that he was a cheerful person. Maybe, just maybe, Shehzad might be like that. But I do wonder, doesn't he oppose this marriage.

I mean, he lives in America, he is practically an American, and then why does he want an eastern Pakistani bride. He must have his full share of beautiful New York women. Well, I don't know him so I don't have the right to judge him.

"Well...," the man clapped his hands. "Where is the lucky bride?" he enquired in English, his accent was flawless. My head was low and soon to be veiled. Zainab baji lifted my chin to show my face, but I was completely zoning out. In front of my eyes, there was only white and in my ears, was a strange ringing sound and I only focused on that.

"Oh my......, she is exquisite. I true beauty. I can see that my decision was correct. My Shehzad is very lucky.hmm...," his grin became even wider. Behind him, some people began to settle down; I didn't even try to look for the man who was going to be my husband from now on. My face got covered with the embroidered dupatta and I got filled with a sense of gratitude. I had no confidence in myself. I heard them introducing Shehzad to everyone. Only the voice of the old man was coherent.

"We should start with ceremony, Mr. Quraish." The old man started, in Urdu this time. Even his Urdu was amazing.

"Yes, of course, Mr. Atish." Grandfather spoke, in a rather respectful and soft tone. It really surprised me. So in front of other people, he can be a little humble. The ceremony started.

The Maulvi began and I was given the Nikah-nama; A white piece of paper. This will decide my fate and the bond that I am about to make It was other shade of white; this shade of a new unclear bond.

There were long lines, cutting through the lines of the rights of the wife. Only the Haq Mehr was stipulated, which was decided to be three million Rupees? My eyes widened. This was too much. These people really are filthy rich.

The time for my signature finally came. I was asked three times if I accepted this marriage. At first, the words could not come out of my mouth, but then slowly, I gave my reply.

"QUBOOL HAI." I repeated three times. And with that, my signatures were done. My fate was forever sealed.

Everyone raised their hands for supplication. They only prayer that could come in my mind, was that whatever was going to happen from now on, I leave it in God's hands. I just hope that everything will be fine from now on. When the supplication ended, everyone began to congratulate each other. A garland of flowers was hung around my neck and the veil was lifted to feed me with sweets. Zainab Baji kissed my cheeks and embraced me tightly. I was still feeling like the energy from my body was draining.

"Congratulations. Now you don't need to worry about anything. Khadija will be treated as if she were my own daughter. You will not hear any complaints. This I vow to you all." Mr. Atish promised, wholeheartedly. His words were comforting, and I was almost beginning to feel a little relieved. I sighed. Probably, people always say the same dialogues during weddings. Everything was over now.

I was exhausted. By the time I returned to my room, my vision became blurry and I collapsed on the floor.

Oh God, please help me, someone please help me.

**********

LIST OF URDU WORDS.

Mu'azin; the person who gives the call for prayer in mosques.

Masjid; mosque in urdu/arabic.

Fajr; time before dawn/ the dawn prayer.

Chaudhery; village chief/ feudal lord of any area in the Punjab.

Nama'az; prayer.

Du'a; supplication.

baji; honorific for elder sister.

Shalwar Kurta; pants and shirt/ national garments of Pakistan.  

Haveili; mansion.

Zindabad; long live.

halwa puri; semolina sweet confection with wheat deep fried bread.

Chana Masala; chickpea curry.

Bismillah; in the name of God.

paan; a treat of mint/betel leaf filled with fennel.

Halal; legal/lawful.

shari'a; jurisprudence of Islam.

Zulm; oppression/ tyranny.

Nikah; marriage.

Nikah-nama; marriage contract.

Maulvi; priest. 

Haq Mehr; dowry.