Free The Holy Woman by Qaisra Shahraz Page B

Shahzada’s deafening cry shook every corner of the dark room. Her breathing ragged, she leapt out of her bed and stood in front of him. ‘No, Habib! Say it is not what I think you mean.’ His ominous silence terrifying her, she beat her fists against his chest. Alarmed, he pushed her away from him.
    ‘Stop it! Control yourself, woman!’ Shahzada’s face paled. Glaring down at hers, his eyes were colder than the peaks of the Himalayas. At that moment something died in Shahzada. She was staring at a total stranger – the ruthless feudal landlord, not her husband.
    ‘No, not until you tell me what is on your mind.Don’t hold me in suspense, I beg of you, Habib!’ she pleaded, reaching up to beat at him again. Alarmed by the primitive violence that had erupted in her body, Shahzada surprised both herself and him in the process.
    Habib again grasped her arms tightly and held her away from him. ‘All right, I will tell you. I am going to talk with my father about Zarri Bano becoming a
Shahzadi Ibadat
, a Holy Woman. Are you satisfied now?’ he snarled down into her face.
    ‘
Shahzadi Ibadat
,’ his wife echoed dully, her voice sunk to a whisper, moving away from him – his touch now scorching her. ‘So you are going to sacrifice your beloved daughter?’
    ‘Sacrifice?’ he ejaculated, caught on the raw. ‘How dare you say such a thing! My daughter will become a Holy Woman – the most pure, devout, scholarly, and revered by all.’ As the words left his mouth, the better he felt.
    ‘You are mad, Habib Sahib! How can you do this to your own daughter? I won’t permit it! This is not the Emperor Akhbar’s time. It is the twentieth century – it cannot happen.’
    ‘It can and will happen! Do you think that you, a female, can prevent it? The scales are weighted against you, woman.’
    ‘Habib, listen to me,’ Shahzada appealed desperately. ‘She is going to marry Sikander. She has just told you.’ Shahzada felt as if she was walking in quicksand and the ground was fast disappearing beneath her feet.
    ‘Oh no, she is not. I have decided! You had better tell her. I have lost a son, and I am not going to lose my inheritance to a complete stranger. I want you to support me in this. That is your duty as a wife. If youdon’t do it, our ancient traditions will outweigh your opposition, so you had better get used to the idea. Remember what I said: I will divorce you on the spot if you rebel against us.’
    Habib fixed his wife with a cruel stare. ‘And stop talking nonsense about sacrifice. My beautiful Zarri Bano was destined for this fate. Her brother’s death sealed her future as a
Shahzadi Ibadat
. This is what has always happened when only sons died in people of our class: the inheritance then was passed on to the next female member – you know that.’
    ‘So you are going to wed your daughter to your fields and to her faith.’ Tears of anguish rolled down Shahzada’s face. ‘It is
zulm
, cruelty of the worst kind. If you go through with it, I will never, never forgive you, Habib – never! You can divorce me! There will be nothing left between us. Remember this, you’ll have made your daughter a Holy Woman, but you will have buried a wife too, at the same time.’
    ‘I will not listen to any more of your foolish prattling. I am going to sleep in another room,’ he blustered, storming out with heavy strides and banging the door behind him. His wife’s words had upset him. He knew what she felt, for he had felt the same pain. Unlike her, however, he had no choice. He was alarmed by what Shahzada had said about not forgiving him but, ‘she will change with time,’ he told himself emphatically.
    In his mind he recalled the vision of another
Shahzadi Ibadat
from his childhood. How fascinated he had been by that woman and the fame and reverence she had elicited from everyone. Wherever she went, ‘
Bibi, Bibi
,’ had echoed reverently around her.
    His Zarri Bano and her personal charisma wouldsurpass