The Black Rainbow

by Hussain Zaidi

  It was also confirmed that Maulvi Zia was not in the White Mosque and that he was still in his home town. But where? No one knew. The failure to nab Zia together with the leakage of the decision to raid the White Mosque exasperated the military establishment, which suspected that someone holding a very important position in the government had spilled the beans. Fingers were also pointed at the person of the prime minister, whose links with Maulvi Zia were well known.

  “I have some other news which may be of interest to you,” Dr Junaid said to Maulvi Zia when he was about to leave after meeting him in his hideout.

  “Yes what’s that?”

  “Seth Nisar’s daughter Sara has got married?”

  “With whom? When? How do you know?”

  “The marriage took place last evening. The man she has married is a classmate of her, one of my students,” Dr Junaid replied?

  “Were you present in the wedding?”

  “No I wasn’t invited. I was told by one of the students; even he wasn’t invited. But what I don’t understand is why did Sara suddenly decide to get married and that too in such a secretive manner that none from the class or the faculty was invited?”

  “Probably I can account for that,” Zia said.

  “You know the reason?”

  “I’m the reason, if I’m not mistaken. I told Nisar that I wanted to marry his daughter and gave him two weeks for his reply, which of course had to be in the affirmative.”

  “So that’s why it happened,” Dr Junaid observed. But you didn’t tell me anything?”

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t. But if Seth Nisar thought he could get away from me in that manner, then he is grossly mistaken. However, since I’m under a cloud these days and still need Nisar’s wealth and connections, let him think so. You know I don’t believe in forgiveness and I’ll take the seth to the task for his disobedience. But for the time being let them enjoy. And of course, I’ll send the couple my greetings.”

  “You do what you want to do; I’ll just advise you to be patient. The time is out of joint for us.”

  “Don’t worry; I’ll not act in haste,” Maulvi Zia assured his friend. “Tell me about Sara’s husband. He must be familiar to you.”

  “His name is Ali, a typical middle class chap — mild and bookish, coward and hardworking. His father is a well-known journalist Hassan Naqvi,” Dr Junaid replied.

  “Ah Hassan Naqvi! I know him well. He has interviewed me on several occasions. As far as I know, he is an upright person. How did he agree to marry his son to the daughter of Seth Nisar and in so short a period? Were the two in love?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine. However, I can confirm that Ali was Sara’s only friend in the university.”

  “I haven’t seen Ali but I guess it’ll be difficult for any young man to resist the temptation of falling for Sara. She is really a bewitching beauty. Good luck to him, should I say?” Maulvi Zia remarked and then broke into laughter.

  Sara was looking strikingly beautiful in her expensive bridal dress. After the wedding ceremony was over, she moved to Ali’s house in keeping with the social conventions. Mrs Naqvi had prepared Ali’s small bed room for the nuptial night.

  At the wedding party, Seth Nisar gave a cheque of ten million rupees to the new couple as what he called ‘a small gift from a loving father’ and also told Ali’s parents that whatever he had was now for his daughter and son-in-law and that he wanted them to join his business after they had completed their studies.

  It was late at night when Ali entered his room, where Sara was waiting for him. The moment which he had fantasized for umpteen times had finally arrived. But he was nervous and his heart was beating at a fast pace. When he stepped in, he saw to his surprise that Sara had taken off her bridal dress and was wearing trousers and a T-shirt.

  “So we’re together,” Sara remarked when she saw Ali.

  “Yes it’s the happiest moment of my life,” Ali said as if he was in ecstasy and looked at Sara from top to bottom.

  “I hope you don’t mind that I have taken off the bridal dress; it was too heavy for me.”

  Never mind,” Ali replied.

  “Ali we have started our new life and will shortly be entering into a new relationship. But before we start, there are a few things that I want to make clear,” Sara said in a crisp tone.

  “Yes please.”

  “Papa has given us a hefty amount and told us that we should have no thoughts for the morrow. But you would appreciate that we should try to stand on our own feet and make an independent living. Therefore, until we complete our studies and embark on a career, we’re not going to have a child. Do you agree?”

  “Yes I do. We’ll have enough time to bear children,” Ali assented. “Anything else?’

  “As you know, I value independence more than anything else. So I expect you to respect my independence and don’t try to impose your will on me like a traditional husband. I assure you that I’ll respect yours,” Sara told Ali.

  “I love you Sara and respect whatever you value. So rest assured.”

  “There’s one last thing.”

  “Yes what is it?” Ali asked.

  “I’m all yours,” Sara said in a sweet voice enough to drive Ali crazy.

  Book 3

  Chapter 29

  “Sir please have a seat; I’ll just tell madam about your arrival,” said a maid servant to Ali.

  As he sat on the sofa in the spacious drawing room, Ali recalled that six months ago he was sitting in the same place desperate to tell Sara that he was willing to marry her. And then the six months of his marriage flashed in Ali’s memory. How much things had changed during that period. He recalled how he was taken by surprise when Sara had proposed to him; how difficult it was for him to solicit the consent of his parents to the marriage. He also recalled how hectically they had made wedding arrangements, how choosy Sara was in selecting the wedding dress for him and had told him that for her he was the special person therefore she must find a special dress for him.

  Then Ali recalled his first night with Sara. How shy and shaky he was and by contrast how bold and confident she was. Then the train back to the past moved ahead and he remembered rather painfully how things started to go wrong between them: just a week after the wedding she had complained to him that it was impossible for her to stay in his ‘dungeon’ and then she moved back to her native home. Thenceforth, she would ignore him in the university and at times also insult him before the rest of the class.

  Ali’s travel back to the past was cut short by the arrival of Sara. “So you’re here,” she remarked. “I appreciate your punctuality.”

  “You said there was some important matter you wanted to talk about,” Ali queried as he rose as a mark of courtesy.”

  “Yes I’ll come to that shortly. Do you want to have anything?”

  Ali replied with a shake of the head. “Is uncle Nisar at home?” he asked.

  “Yes he is but he’s too busy to see you,” Sara replied.

  “Ok, pay him my regards. I haven’t seen him for quite some time. I trust he is all right.”

  “Yes he’s ok. Don’t worry on his account,” Sara replied in a cold voice. “Let’s get down to business. I’ll be brief and to the point. I want you to divorce me.”

  “What!” A startled Ali exclaimed. “Are you serious?”

  “How could you ask such a question? It’s too important a matter for me to be non-serious. Our marriage isn’t getting anywhere. So the sooner it’s dissolved, the better it’ll be for both of us,” Sara responded.

  “Yes you’re right. Our marriage isn’t getting anywhere. But instead of dissolving it, we should sit together and try to give it some direction,” Ali suggested.

  “It can have only one direction and that’s termination,” Sara remarked rather contemptuously.

  “I confess a lot of misunderstanding has crept up between us. But Sara we love each other and where there’s love there’s a will and where there’s a will, there’
s a way.”

  “Oh love! It’s the most ridiculous of all notions. Most of the stupidest things are done in the name of love. At any rate, let me make it clear once and for all that I never had the slightest of love for you. Our marriage was simply a marriage of convenience; otherwise why a girl of my position and wealth should marry a good-for-nothing moron like you? But now I don’t need the tag of marriage. I want to be free as wind. In any event, I’ll be going abroad for doctorate in few months and I see no point in clinging to this meaningless relationship. Of course, I can go to the court and seek an injunction for divorce. But I don’t want to get myself embroiled in judicial matters and I suppose you also don’t want this. So please do as I say. Of course if you want to fix a price for the divorce, you can ask for that,” Sara was as blunt as it could get.

  Ali was shocked and shaken to hear Sara’s stark words and revelation. He was well aware that Sara’s warmth towards him had fizzled out but he had never for a moment suspected that Sara had never been in love with him and that she had used him merely as a pawn.

  On the wedding night, Ali had promised to respect Sara’s independence and he had fully honored his word. He had never tried to impose his will on her in any matter. He accepted and appreciated Sara’s decision to leave his home. He had always suspected there was some misunderstanding between the two, which he believed would eventually be removed. However, Sara’s bluntness had eroded his optimism and made him come to the painful realization that there was nothing to hold them together. Ali had never been interested in Sara’s wealth and had accepted her hand only out of love. So he told Sara that he would divorce her at the earliest.

  “Ok. If I don’t receive divorce papers in a fortnight, I’ll see you in the court.” That was Sara’s final word.

  Ali left Sara’s house like a gambler who had lost everything on a single bet and returned home with the heaviest of hearts. Sara had not only shunned him but also dismantled the world of trust that he had constructed with enormous difficulty.

  “Why has she used me like a tissue paper? Were all her professions of love no more than a hoax? I have been fair to everyone in my dealings. I never loved Farzana but I never professed my love to her. But why Sara did this to me? I accepted whatever she desired. I always bowed to her will. My relationship with Sara is a classic case of the dichotomy between appearance and reality. Things aren’t what they appear. What appears to be love is in reality self-interest. But the question is who to trust and who to suspect? Who to embrace and who to shun? Perhaps no one is worthy of trust.”

  Ali was overwhelmed by such defeatist and skeptical thoughts. In fact, his skepticism had returned with a vengeance.

  Mrs Naqvi knew that Ali had gone to meet Sara and therefore was anxiously waiting for him. When Ali got back, his pale face made her suspect something was terribly wrong with him. She had been quietly watching all that he had been going through and felt extremely sorry for him. During the few weeks that Sara had lived with them, Mrs Naqvi had realized the great gulf that existed between their tastes and ways of life. She was therefore hardly surprised when Sara told her she was going back to her father’s house. “Pardon me, I have nothing against you or uncle Naqvi. But it’s not possible for me to live here anymore. I feel suffocated in this dungeon,” Sara had told her.

  “Sara whether you live here or anywhere else it’s for you to decide and we’ll respect your decision whatever it is. But were you not aware at the time of the marriage that we’re people of modest means and have nothing to match your father’s wealth?”

  This is how Mrs Naqvi had reacted. There was no reply from Sara and that was the last encounter between the two as that very evening Sara left the house.

  Mrs Naqvi was still unable to figure out why Sara with full knowledge of and contempt for their situation had chosen to marry Ali. She wasn’t ready to buy Ali’s argument that Sara did that because she loved him.

  “If she loved you, she wouldn’t leave you for a more comfortable life or for anything else. If you love someone, you leave the world for them rather than leave them for the world. I loved your father and I left even my parents for him. So don’t tell me that Sara loves you,” she had told Ali, who, however, insisted that Sara loved him and she needed time to adjust to their way of life.

  “What’s it my son? You look terribly upset,” Mrs Naqvi asked Ali.

  Ali, who on his way back from Sara’s home had vowed that he wouldn’t tell anything to his parents, couldn’t restrain himself and gave a full account of what had happened between him and Sara earlier that evening.

  “So that’s what she told you. That girl is so selfish and crafty I had never thought. But did she share with you the precise reason which drove her to marry you?”

  “No. Nor did I ask,” Ali replied.

  “Ok. Even if we knew the reason, it would be of no use to us. Anyhow my son you have made the right decision. If she wants divorce, so be it. There’s no point in whipping up a dead horse. Start a new life. Concentrate on your studies and make your career. I understand you have been through a terrible experience and you’ll take a lot of time to recover. But remember painful experience is its own reward; it teaches you like nothing else. I’m sure you’ll emerge from this experience stronger and wiser. For now, let’s have a cup of tea. I have prepared your favorite carrot halwa.”

  “Mother thanks for trying to heal my wounds. You’re right; I should try to get over this. It’s not the end of the world. But one thing I don’t understand. Why has Sara been unfair to me when I haven’t been unfair to her or anyone else?” Ali asked.

  “I don’t know. I’m not a moralist. But my father once told me that this world is governed not by moral laws but by physical laws. Hence, only the physical consequences of our actions appear. So it’s not necessary that virtue is rewarded and vice punished. You must have noticed that many a wicked person scales glories, while many a virtuous person is humiliated. By the same token, it’s not necessary that love or good-will is requited.” Mrs Naqvi furnished an explanation.

  Do you believe this?” Ali queried.

  “I don’t know. As I said, I’m not a moralist,” she replied and hurried towards the kitchen.

  “Here are the divorce papers. You have got what you wanted. But do you have any qualms about the way you used my son,” Mrs Naqvi complained to Sara as she gave her the documents indicating that Ali had divorced Sara.

  Mr Naqvi was of the view that they should courier the papers to Sara but his wife insisted that she would herself take the papers to Sara, because she wanted to speak to her for the last time.

  “Why should I have any qualms? What wrong have I done? I just used my intelligence to get out of a difficult situation. I should be praised rather than condemned for intelligent action,” Sara replied with the coldness and arrogance that was characteristic of her.

  “You deceived my son; it’s not intelligence, it’s duplicity.”

  Sara broke into laughter and then said: “If I deceived your son, then you should also admit that he let himself be deceived or should I say that he wanted to be deceived? Ali did exactly what I expected him to do; I did what he didn’t expect of me. It’s as simple as that. But if I was justified in my expectations, if I judged Ali correctly and if his expectations were misplaced and he made a blunder of judgment, then who is to be blamed? I? Who was always right? Or he? Who was always wrong? I think nothing can be more unjust than to find fault with a person for her intelligent behavior and sound judgment. If you can’t help reproaching someone, then put your son in the dock and vent your venom on him for his foolishness and unsound judgment. Did it ever occur to him why a girl of my standing and wealth would offer her hand to a pauper like him and insist on completing the process in an instant? A person of average intelligence would have suspected there might be something wrong at the bottom. But he never did.”