THE DIFFERENT SHADES OF WHITE (BOOK 1)

Chapter 2-The Farewell Of A Patriot

 I returned to Karachi after two days of imprisonment in the Haveili. I wasn't allowed to interact with anyone after the Nikah ceremony. I guess that it was a good thing, because I wasn't in the mood to be talking to anyone anyway. The only thing I wanted was to be with my friends.

   My house was in DHA phase 2. Abu had worked very hard to build strong walls for his family, and by the time I turned thirteen, Abu presented us with a beautiful villa that we could call our own. This was my home; my sanctuary.

   The gatekeeper opened the gate and stepped into my sanctuary after such a long time. All the servants of the house were so glad to see me. But I'm sure that their happy faces will turn sour when I tell them the news that I have in store for them.

   Zainab Baji left me on my own; she understood my privacy. The house was the same, just the way I left it. Only the number of inhabitants had changed. I requested the driver to take me to the bank. I took my father's debit cards with me. I had no idea what to do, but I had to empty all the available accounts. If this whole farce didn't work, then I'll have to have some sort of contingency plan. And for that, I'll need every single rupee.

   Surprisingly, the bank manager was an acquaintance of my father; he took care of everything for me. A total of two of ninety lac rupees were in all the accounts. I was plenty I suppose.

   I'm so glad that those conniving thieves didn't take this money. Besides, they already took away the millions worth of inheritance from me, an orphan. And they call themselves Muslims. They don't even know that God's wrath will be soon upon them; for oppressing an innocent orphan like me. I hope that the things that they have deprives me of, I pray that it would never benefit them. Thus is the fate of all those who commit Haram acts.

   I returned back to my house and the first thing I did was post my passport. After that, I began to calculate all the servants' wages. It took me some time. Now I was beginning to understand a wife's position a little bit. Ami always kept a diary to balance out her daily duties. I was in my father's study. I'll need a few things that I would have to take with me.

   I dismissed the chauffer, the cook and the gardener. I decided to keep the maid and the gate keeper and the security guard. Even if I leave and I don't know when I will be back, but this house is mine and it is precious to me; full of memories.

   At night, I explored my parent's bed room. Since I was a new bride, so I needed to take a few things of my parents', through which I could draw out some courage. All the important keys to the locks and the safe were entrusted to me whenever Ami and Abu had to go somewhere. My little brother was three years younger than me and he would always tag along with them. Unlike me, my brother, Haris, was very introverted and shy. Only if he hadn't gone with them, then I wouldn't be suffering alone right now.

   I opened the safe. There was money and my mother's gold jewelery. Now it all belonged to me. I took a bag from the storage room and carefully placed all the boxes of jewelery in it. I'm not used to such extravagance. I don't know if I would even need these.

   I wonder what kind of women Shehzad likes. Now that I'm his wife, I'll be responsible for his happiness and satisfaction. So whether I like it or not, I will have to take these things with me.

    Besides, I know that this is a challenge for me. Living in the west means that there will be many distractions there, and I will have to be very careful. Since Shehzad is rich and must have everything, then I'm afraid of a very terrifying reality. And even if my assumptions are correct, then what if I don't get along with him. Divorce is always an option, but I can't request for a divorce unless I don't even try to get along with him. Nikah is no joke. It's a sacred injunction.

   'Wait a minute...., why am I thinking about these things,' I shook my head violently. Staying quiet for such a long time is letting my thoughts get carried away. I pinched my cheeks to snap out of it.

   That's right. I don't know him so I cannot assume or judge his character without even talking to him.

   I filled the bag with some of my mother's designer suits and shoes. If my parents were alive and I was a newlywed bride, then everything would be brand new and would have to take my mother's things. It hurts me. It's like I'm stealing her things without her permission. I sighed. I have no other choice.

   I opened my father's closet next. I caressed his business suits. His scent was still lingering on them. Tears welled up in my eyes. For me, my father was my role model. He was my hero. He made me the person that I am today. If nothing, he gave me the principles by which I live my life. He taught me how to be a good human being and a good Muslim. It's thanks to him that the only thing I have left with me, when I'm all alone, is my faith. I will never trade my faith and chastity for anything.

   I never betrayed my parents. I never had a boyfriend and I was never friendly with the opposite s*x. So basically, the first man in my life will be my husband and I wonder, if my heart will ever be able to accept him. At first, I opposed greatly, but knowing my nature, I don't stick to negative things. Who knows, maybe I might be able to open my heart to him. I just hope that he is my ideal.

   I took out my father's wedding ring and his copper cufflinks. To my parents, some objects were very precious, like these cufflinks that my father had bought when he was a beginner in the world of business. These were very cheap, but he had bought them from the money that he had earned through his flesh and blood. These will give me a lot of confidence in the future. I place them in the bag.

   I was about to leave when I caught sight a white silk tie hanging on a hanger by the towel rack. It was a strange color of white, with small maroon dots on it.

   A granulated white of loneliness; that's how my eyes see it.

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   The next day, I decided to visit my friends. They were having a farewell party for the outgoing batch. So it was also my farewell as well. If I hadn't been married now, I would have been sending out forms for universities and preparing for the entrance test. I wanted to get into Karachi University. I wanted to do majors in Chemistry. I always wanted to be a petrochemical engineer.

   Although it is a little early, but graduating at the age of seventeen and a half and getting into a university after turning eighteen was my primary plan. I wonder if I'll be able to continue my studies abroad. I wonder if any University will be able to accept me. But of course, that will be up to my husband. All of my dreams were crushed. 

   My best friends, Shumaila and Hina were so happy to see me. And when they embraced me, all of a sudden, I burst into tears. I just felt like crying my heart out. I have so many thoughts and feelings piled up inside of me. I have experienced so much in the past couple of days.

   First there was the tragic death of my parents, then the mean ill treatment from my relatives and then the sudden marriage. And now in a couple of days, I'll never be able to see my friends again.

   Shumaila and Hina didn't stop me from crying. They took me to the school grounds. We sat on the grass but after I got tired from crying, I laid my head in Hina's lap and tried to pull myself together. They caressed my hair with tender care.

   "Say...., what's up with that status that you had uploaded a few days ago, Khadija?" Shumaila enquired. "Yes, tell us what happened to you?" Hina agreed. I swallowed and explained everything to them.

   The air was humid and warm. But the atmosphere around us changed. They both went silent after I shared my painful story with them. I closed my eyes. I don't know how they were going to react.

   "Khadija, you could have asked for help, you know that my parents could have easily helped you out of it. They have power and influence. My father could have easily gotten you out by using the high court." Hina said her voice soft and full of concern. I didn't open my eyes. How could I tell them the strong Khadija they knew had surrendered and was slowly, emotionally dying?

   "I wish.......but those people are dangerous, so I couldn't involve you guys in my problem. They are powerful and have influences in politics and even if you had helped me, then their pride is too great. They could have easily have me killed before I could have even filled my case in court." I sighed, non chalantly.

   "Oh my God...., are these people even human?" Shumaila  gasped in a low voice.

   "These types of people are always the same...," I mused, inhaling the fresh air. Hina stroked my forehead. They are like my sisters. I share everything with them. But after a few days, I'll be separated from them. It's so painful just to think about it.

   "Khadija, what are you going to do now?" Hina enquired. I stayed silent. I didn't know how to answer that question.

   "Are you going to go through with this?" Shumaila mumbled. I shrugged. "Do I have much of a choice?" I murmured. Abruptly, they made me sit upright and the next thing I knew, that there was a sharp pain on my cheek.

   "OW....," I cried. This was the second time I was slapped across my face. I have never been slapped at before, so why is it that now everybody is slapping me?

   "Have you snapped out of it?" Shumaila queried. I looked at her, stunned. "You i***t—how could you give up so easily? What happened to the bold and courageous Khadija that we knew? You say that you have no choice? You always have a choice—if you were married so what? It's not like the marriage was consummated or something that you are feeling so down and helpless. You can always get a divorce. If you file your case in the high court, then I'm sure that you'll be out of this situation." Shumaila stated in a resonant voice. She was usually calm and composed, but now she finally snapped.

   I felt Hina's hand on my shoulder. "She's right, you know. You are here now and I and Shumaila can offer you protection. We will help you to get out of this mess." She assured me with conviction.

   "Even if that happened and I did get a divorce, then what? Where will I go? I will be hunted down and killed. You guys can't protect me forever. And I don't have my inheritance. And I can't be a burden to you, now can I? At least with this Marriage contract, I have some place to go, even if it is to be with a stranger, I won't be a burden to him since it will be his responsibility to take care of me. Besides, I don't know him so I cannot assume anything. Even if I present myself to the court, then even the odds will be against me. Because according to the law and the Shari'a, I am of legal age and the case will be nullified. And if I'm asked the reason for a divorce, my reason won't be valid enough. My grandfather will pull some strings and make the court come to his terms. You don't know what kind of a manipulative person he is? I have seen how he could be," I could not believe that I was presenting them with such excuses. But it was the truth.

   "And besides, I can't ask for a divorce without even giving this marriage a chance. The Nikah-nama is no joke. And besides, divorce is the most disliked act in the eyes of God. And knowing our society, nobody would like to marry an orphan, let alone a divorced one." I grumbled. I hated myself for pitying myself.

   "And furthermore, if I get a divorce, then I will never be able to get my father's wealth back from those wretched relatives of mine." I confessed. I bowed my head. A headache was beginning to rise in my head. "Anyways, I have to think about this whole situation with a positive attitude. Who knows, maybe the ball might turn out to be in my court." I bemused, with a trying smile. They both stared at me with concern shadowing their eyes and expression.

   After a while, Shumaila patted my head in a gentle manner. "Now that's the positive and optimistic Khadija we know. If that is your decision, then we will support you all the way, even though we will be miles away, but remember that you are not alone, you have us. If there is any problem, then don't hesitate to tell us, Okay." She grinned with affection. I beamed back. Her words comforted me a lot. I breathed deeply. The air in Karachi is really very different. I feel so relaxed now. My anxiety is beginning to disappear.

    Maybe it's because of my positive attitude. That's right, I'm a positive thinking. If I think negatively, then I'll only get more upset. I began to stare at the sky. I'm going to miss this sky so much, and the dirt that I'm sitting on. I wonder when I will be back again. If Shehzad is a nice person, then maybe, I could ask him to send me back to Pakistan.

    "So," Hina patted my back, startling me. "Who's the lucky groom? He must be very handsome, for you to be so firm in your resolve." She giggled. I tilted my neck. "I don't know. I didn't look at him. I don't want to judge him through his looks. To me, his character only matters." I uttered. My face was turning hot all of a sudden. Why was I feeling shy all a sudden?

   "I don't get it. He lives in America. He might have a share of beautiful women there then why did he request a bride from Pakistan?" Shumaila mused. I pouted. That was a little insulting. So besides myself, even they think that I might not be worthy of him.

   "Beats me!" I stated in a strong voice. "I might know once I get there." I sighed.

   "By the way......what are your latest thoughts about him?" Shumaila posed.

   "Hmm.......I think that he might be a pseudo Muslim." I mused. Shumaila grimaced. "Pseudo Muslim......what's that?"

   I forgot. That's my own inventive word. "I call the people that who are only Muslim by name—that's my greatest fear though."

   "And why is that?" Hina solicited.

   "Knowing how the way my cousins abroad have turned out—I can only pray that what I'm thinking isn't true." I declared under my breath. "Those kinds of people are very difficult to handle. I don't know what I'll do if it turns out to be true." All these things were causing my head to spin.

   "Then I pray that God be by your side and protect you always." Hina patted my shoulders—contemplating the best course of action for me. These two people are my well wishers—always there to support me. 

     I glanced at my wrist watch. The party must have begun already. We got up and headed towards the Auditorium. Of course, everyone kept on asking me about my parent's death and my future plans, but I wasn't dumb enough to reveal to them about my marriage problem. It will only cause more trouble.

   Later, I hung out with my friends at the beach; enjoying the last moments of freedom that were left. I love this sea. Its warm waters always make me feel so plush. The beaches of America are nowhere near as beautiful as the coasts of Pakistan. The smell, the warm breezes, these are the symbols of my home. If I leave, what will I call my home then?

   After the beach, I went to Quaid Mausoleum to pay homage and my respects to the father of the nation—the great Quaid-e-Azam M.A. Jinnah who bestowed this country upon me.

>>>>>

   It just saddens and disheartens me whenever I think about leaving. My beloved Pakistan; Will I ever see you again?

   I will miss everything—dusty atmosphere of Karachi and the humidity of the sea. The hot ten months when I could only wear summer couture with the fashion changing after every four months, the ceiling fans and the times of load shedding and the sound of petrol generators ringing through the air and the people gathering in the neighborhood to pass the time together and the various strikes and political rallies being carried out in the city. I will miss everything even if they are discomforts because when a person is struck with any calamity, then they get closer to God. There was a revolution stirring up in me and in my country.

   Another shade of white; the shade of separation.

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   At the third day, I send my time, exploring the villa. I instructed the remaining servants to take good care of my house while I was gone, if possible, I would sent the wages and the utility bills to them from abroad every month.

   I took out the family picture albums and studied them all day long. There are so many things that I will be leaving behind. I can only take the memories with me. So I stared hard at the pictures so that they become etched into my brain. For today, I just want to dwell in the past and the future ahead.

   My family, my dignity, my identity, my country; I'm about to lose them all and start a new life. What's it going to be like? I can only imagine but never hope to expect.

   I entered my brother's room and stayed there the entire night. When I woke up the next day, I noticed something under the bed.

   It was a brown, shiny surface of something that was very familiar to me. When I got it out, I was shocked for a split second. It was my violin. It was Beth.

   Beth had disappeared about five months ago and I had searched everywhere for it. I was obsessed with it. I loved to play the violin. Abu had given it to me on my fifteenth birthday. He had bought it from Paris during one of his business trips. Whenever I was upset, I would play it and the feelings that were in my heart, would turn into the tune of the violin. I used it to express my deep emotions.

   Beth has been my emotional companion for such a long time.

   So it was Haris who had hidden Beth. It angered me, but at the same time, it pressed down my heart. What was the use of being angry at my dead brother? He probably wanted to try to play it.

  I gazed at a picture of him and me on the side table. I took it in my hands. I had loved my sibling very much.

    "Haris.....you want to listen? You want to hear me play?" I talked the picture. Maybe I was losing it, but it beats being all alone, right?

   I stroked his face in the picture. He was such a pretty and obedient boy. A symphony was beginning to form at the back of my head. And the only way to express it, was through Beth.

    Now that I play Beth, everything is suddenly turning into white—a sad harmonic sound is born. It's what my weak heart is feeling at the moment.

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