Vulture Zone

There had been a terrible accident at an overhead crossing, the newly built overhead had collapsed and crashed into oncoming traffic killing more than thirty people and injuring several others. The chief officials of the department responsible were gathered around a table in heated discussion how best to deal with the media and police. The police investigation had to start soon as the media had gone crazy pointing fingers of blame at the highest officials of the Public works department. Most of the officials were adamant whatever the findings of the inquiry, all efforts be made to shift blame to outside factors. In the last few years this was the sixth or seventh incident of bridges buildings and underpasses collapsing ending in fatalities. Things were not looking good for the department People were angry and a little army of media reporters was at the front door of the building baying for blood.

Rayhan the chief engineer of the department was sweating and wiping his forehead every few minutes. He had been in this post just two years and the contracts for the overhead had been given out before his time. But he had been in the department long enough to know that someone would become the scape goat. The incident would be pinned to their negligence, that person would be transferred to some remote area or be suspended for an indefinite period. He was hoping he wouldn’t become that scape goat tonight. 

Rayhan had topped the CSS exam, that had landed him in the middle of the elite ruling bureaucracy that was also the aristocracy of Punjab. They owned most big businesses, factories and land holdings. But it didn’t matter how clever or intelligent Rayhan was. The hierarchy functioned around money and class. Rayhan with his middleclass background was on the last rung of the ladder. He was preparing himself mentally to pack his bags and had stopped concentrating on the discussion around the table. His boss Jahan was waving his hand at Rayhan .‘’Where are you lost man, pay attention’’ Rayhan looked at them absently wondering how he had ended up in the middle of this. His thesis in his exam had been about Allama iqbal’s idea of self. He also knew why the buildings were collapsing. Only 30 % of the money paid to govt contractors was spent on the projects, that meant third rate low quality materials and even lower workmanship. The other 70% was returned by the contractor to the department people and duly divided according to rank. The people at the top getting the top share. ‘’ All of you, just do what you have to do, nothing should be found in your homes or businesses or any other place you own.’’ The boss said in a final tone as he adjourned the meeting.

 Rayhan slumped in the back seat of his Honda Civic as the driver wound his way through heavy home bound traffic. The car was airconditioned and cool, a world away from the heat and petrol fumes outside its window. Rayhan had to find a new hiding place for the cash from bribes and his share from contractors. How would he convince Zareen, his wife to part with the cash in the cellar. Every time they went through this routine there was a massive argument between them. But he had no choice, he had to move fast before the police raided their properties, which was standard procedure when accident inquiries started.

In the way he stopped at his brother Zain’s house. Zain and Zainab had just returned from Canada with their children. Rayhan found spending time with them a welcome relief from the tension of his own life. He didn’t know how to tell his brother about his cash stash or accepting bribe money. Both Zain and his wife had spent most of their time abroad and were great fans of hard work, honesty and clean living. Rayhan used to smile at their naivety and think ‘’one day you guys will realise that Punjab has moved on, we don’t live in that innocent world anymore.‘’ But for now he wanted some cheering up before he went home to the distasteful chore weighing on his mind.

Zareen was fuming as she the driver took her towards the Hilton sliding along the mall in the dark Porsche. Where had Rayhan disappeared, he knew it was Mr and Mrs Jahan’s anniversary dinner and today of all days he decided to be late and why was he not answering his mobile. ‘’I am sure he is with his brother Zain complaining about me’’ she thought. Zareen was convinced Rayhan was becoming more and more distant from her ever since this wretched couple had returned from Canada. She must put a stop to this new escape route Rayhan had found, she thought as the car came to a stop outside the Hilton. An attendant ran to open the door, she got out with regal grace, dressed in an expensive embroidered suit she had bought that afternoon. Zareen was a beautiful woman and the dark green and gold brought out the greyish green of her eyes. Small diamond earrings and a delicate gold chain with a big diamond in the middle was around her neck. Her slim figure with a flowing golden dupatta made her look stunningly beautiful. She walked quickly through the lobby her high heels playing a staccato as she went towards the main hall. The driver was trying to keep up with her carrying the huge bouquet of flowers and the boxes of presents for the host.

Zareen  felt a pang of  nervousness  as she came face to face with begums and their husbands gathered  in  the main hall. Most of these people had been into money for a long time. The rich ruling elite of Punjab . She would try her best to hide her middleclass background with designer clothes and expensive jewellery but she had nouveau riche written all over her. There were no factory owner uncles in her assets to show off so she would give out expensive presents that Rayhan couldn’t afford . Still a vague feeling of inferiority and being worthless would haunt her as long as she was with the begums.  

‘’So why is Rayhan not with you’’ begum Jahan asked  Zareen staring at the diamond around her neck.  Zareen was glad to get her sob story off her chest . How the brother and sister in law back from Canada jealous of Rayhan’s money and position were enticing him away from Zareen. Begum Jahan played with the ten tola bracelet on her wrist , arched her thin eyebrows‘’ Oh these poor people from poor homes’’ she said taking a delicate sip of coffee ‘’ this is their low mentality they are always jealous of people like us, why do you let Rayhan see them anyway?’’ Zareen sighed ‘’ The wife is a kiss ass, she puts oil in my mother in laws hair and massages that old bat’s  legs for hours every night.’’  begum Jahan laughed ‘’oh is she one of those  susral ki chamchi’’ (bootlicker) ‘’Rayhan has made my life hell because of her’’ Zareen said playing with the food in her plate ‘’ He is constantly comparing me to her, effing pillar of perfection  and  why I am not like her’’ Zareen’s  face was red and angry with pent up rage. ‘’I hate that woman so much, I’d sort her out if I could get Zain Bhai out of the way ’’ Begum Jahan smiled and walked towards the  hotel foyer out of ear shot of others. ‘’Get rid of this woman before she makes your life any worse’’ Zareen was listening carefully’’ But how’’? she asked with interest ‘’ Tell your in laws  Rayhan has a thing for Zainab, that will bring her crashing down’’ Zareen laughed in delight , why hadn’t  she think of that . Mrs Jahan’s eyes were gleaming ‘’The whole family will be enraged including Zain, see where she stands after that’’ Begum Jahan chuckled hilariously as if she were weaving out the story of some comedy drama. Zareen was smiling all the way home. She had found the perfect strategy to bring Zainab and the in laws down and keeping Rayhan under her thumb. It was good to have powerful friends like Mrs Jahan she thought happily.

Zareen was surprised as she recognised the old bat’s car in the drive way. She huffed in frustration’’ Will probably have to put my plan on hold’’ she thought, taking off her jewellery and hiding it in her purse before going into the bedroom. The mother in law was always scolding her for being wasteful.

 ‘’I need the keys to the cellar’’ Rayhan said as soon as Zareen stepped into the bed room. Zareen looked around at her mother and father in law and  knew she was outnumbered. ‘’ let me take the money to my mother’s house ‘’ Zareen persisted in a low voice. ‘’ No Zain Bhai can put it in his business account and show it as sales profit’’ Rayhan said in a final tone.

Zain was on the computer when Rayhan came to see him in his factory office. The two business partners were sitting around the table comparing notes and checking new samples of tiles that had just come in. Zain had bought a small ceramics factory and modified it to produce fancy marble tiles for bathrooms and kitchens. With so much new construction going on they were doing quite well. The atmosphere in Zain’s office was always jovial, the three men laughing and joking as they worked, there was no stress as they were all their own bosses. Zain had replicated his work ethics from Canada, hard work, democracy between partners, transparency and clean accounts. So far it had worked and everyone was happy. Rayhan waited around until the business partners had gone to their rooms. Zain looked horrified after hearing Rayhan’s story. He had no idea any one in his family was into dirty money and would ask him to protect them being caught. ‘’Give me some time to think’’ he said staring out of the window with his back to Rayhan’’this is too sudden for me’’.

In the meantime Zareen had put her revenge plan into action. She had sent several text messages to mutual friends that would eventually end up with Rayhan and the in laws. The text messages alleged that Rayhan had a thing for Zainab and that is why he was neglecting Zareen and spending so much time with his brother.

As Zareen got home from her shopping spree, the driver walking behind her loaded with bags she was amused to see so many cars in the drive way. No surprise here then she thought that was a quick reaction. Sure enough the two sisters, brother and parents all sprawled around the double bed and sofa’s looking dead serious. Rayhan was pacing up and down the room his face puffed and heavy with bags showing under his eyes.

The in laws didn’t give her much time. All started speaking at once. Rayhan wanted a divorce , father in law  reading out a list of allegations asking for an explanation. Sister’s in law defending Zainab. It was what Begum Jahan had said would happen and she had to stay strong. They were not her class anymore she didn’t have to listen to them. Lower middleclass people expecting her to act like them. Wait on the husband and in laws hand and foot when she had twelve servants in the house provided by the govt to do her housework. Blaming her for neglecting Rayhan and the children , saying it had nothing to do with Zainab.

‘’ I want all of you out of the house this minute’’ she said to her in laws in a stern voice.’’ As for the divorce, go ahead and do what you want’’ she looked at Rayhan with contempt in her voice ‘’ I can always call the police and tell them about the crores you have hidden in the cupboards of the basement. ‘’ Everyone in the room was stunned Rayhan exhaled sharply and said in an angry voice ‘’Has all this money gone to your head that you have forgotten who you are’’ Zareen looked at her husband in contempt. ‘’ who am I Reyhan ? Bad mother, bad wife?’’ Rayhan shook his head in disbelief. Was this the same nervous wreck of a woman that he had slowly coached to fit in with his elite circles. ‘’Beti, this is not the way to speak to your husband’’ the mother in law put on a pacifying tone. ‘’Why not’’ she spat out he words ,’You middle class people, same backward mentality, know your place be a good wife? Be a good mother? ‘’ Zareen was on a roll ‘’ Why do I have twelve servants in the house if I still have to wait on you lot like  a low class woman trying to be a good mother and good wife, why do I have all this money if I can’t spend it with my friends having a good time’’ Rayhan got up agitated  with his wife’s attitude , started pacing the room in anger ‘’ Your friends?’’ He sneered ‘’they are all high society wives of my colleagues, the biggest mistake of my life introducing them to you,’’ Zareen shrugged her shoulders and pretended not to hear ‘’ that’s it then, Rayhan said in a serious tone ‘’today onwards you will stay home and I ban you from seeing all the begums.’’ Zareen walked up to Rayhan, looked at him in the eye and scoffed at him as he was some animal trapped in a cage. ‘’ ‘’Do you think you can do that?’’ she laughed ‘’ You poor deluded man, do you know who Begum Jahan is? The chief’s wife!!My best friend. I can get you sacked in a second if you keep this on and on’’ Rayhan turned around in anger to answer her, but the father caught his hand ‘’stay silent son’’ he was saying with his eyes ‘’ you have lost this round’’. The in laws got up and went out of the room one by one. Sensing her success Zareen played her last card ‘’ From now on all of you will do exactly as I say, if you still want to be in your son’s life’’ she said taking the towel out of the bedroom cupboard. ‘’I will not get a divorce but Zainab will ‘’ she said with cruel finality  ‘’Why do you keep attacking Zainab’‘the father in law said in an exhausted tone ‘’ your family problems are nothing to do with her’’ Zareen was  still on a high she spun around on her heel ‘’that’s fine then just  find him a new job and a new wife’’ She laughed bitterly pointing to Rayhan. The father in law had used up all his words and knew she had suddenly become top dog because of the cash stash in the cellar that could send Rayhan to jail. They had to play nice , she still had the key to the cellar and with Begum Jahan on her side, the son could easily lose his job as well. Silence was a better option.

Zareen went into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Feeling like Sikander after conquering India. At last she had put the backward middle class  family in their place. All the newfound power surging through her body, she felt good, she felt really good as the cool water touched her face.  Next morning she called her brother, stashed most of the cash in pillow and duvet covers that went into his boot and back seat as he drove back to her mothers house.  

Zainab was packing her suitcases putting in clothes books and other things  children had accumulated. She was deep in thought and was wondering what was going on. Zain and in laws had been in heated discussion over something for several weeks. Every time she entered the room they fell silent and she didn’t have a clue what the arguments were about. She trusted Zain and thought he will tell me when the time is right. Everything was confusing and wrapped in mystery. Zain had asked her to take the kids and go back to Canada for a while. They had an unspoken rule to give each other space over their maternal family matters and wait until the other person was ready to discuss the matter. Should she break this rule and ask Zain what was going on she wondered.  That same afternoon Zain got a call from Rayhan to get the wives together in a last effort to sort out problems. ‘’ Seeing as Zainab bhabi is causing Zareen so much stress’’ Zain was angry at the allegation but said nothing. He couldn’t get his head around how people back home were never objective, their opinions based on fleeting emotional reactions.

The covered bazar wasn’t busy. It was the middle of the day and a thin crowd of women was going in and out of the brightly lit shops.  Party and wedding wear displayed all over the showcases. The shopkeepers trying to woo every woman who passed by shouting offers of the best materials for low prices. The pan (beetle leaf) and fruit chat vendors trying to make a sale by offering free  tasters. The bazar was stuffy with little air around, the strong smell of incense sticks from shops drifted on the humid air making it heavier. Tiny beads of perspiration appeared on the faces of Zainab and Zareen walking through the bazar looking for bargains. It was a relief getting out of the hot humid air and go into the air conditioned cool of clothing shops. The shopkeeper pulled out beautiful embroidered materials. Zareen didn’t like the look  of the clothes lying on the counter. ‘’ What do you think Bhabi’’ she asked Zainab ‘’ Will any of these colours suit me’’  Zainab moved from side to side uncomfortably. ‘’ I don’t know Zareen, you are pretty everything will suit you’’ she said trying to encourage Zareen to buy something as the heat was exhausting and she wanted to go home. Why am I even here, she was thinking when my husband is having problems because of you lot.  Zareen on the other hand was quite keen on the shopping trip to probe the dirty in Zainab’s life. So far her revenge attack had shown no results. Rayhan still idealised the couple from Canada, this she had to put an end to. In Zain’s house it was business as usual and talking to Zainab had given her no clue. They were out in the heavy humid air of the bazar going from shop to shop again. Finally something caught Zareen’s fancy. Soon the driver was loaded with several heavy bags struggling to keep up as he couldn’t see where he was going . Getting loads of good bargains had perked up Zareen at last, it was an afternoon well spent.  Zainab looked drained as she got into the car. The effort to play happy families with Zareen was exhausting her. It was a constant struggle to fight off Zareen’s materialistic approach to life trying to bring Zainab to her own level of manipulation against the in laws and Zain. In Zareen’s world the husband and in laws were the main enemy in every woman’s life and had to tortured and tamed. Overspending the husbands money was part of his punishment.  Zareen had just spent a small fortune on clothes bags and shoes and Zainab had been conned into buying suits for herself that she didn’t want or need. Zainab always bought clothes for her children and husband before she ever got anything for herself. This was the first time in her life she had bought them nothing.

She didn’t want to go to Rayhan’s home as the two brothers had been avoiding each other for a while. Zareen insisted Zainab have some lunch with her before leaving.  She entered the palatial dining room of Zareen’s home with some dread. . French chandeliers covering half the ceiling were shining brightly on gold gilded tables and dining chairs. Zainab sat on the edge of the chair staring at her reflection in the dining room table. Her feet sinking into the heavy Persian carpet. A wall in the dining room had been turned into a crockery and silver display unit. Curtains of plush velvet were muffling outside sounds. The aircon was on full and the cool breeze was a relief from the weather outside.  Rayhan’s car stopped in the front porch, Zainab could hear the children running to greet him. He picked up his youngest child and came in looking a bit stressed. He was never sure what his wife’s mood was like, his relaxation schedule depended on that.  The children trooped into the dining room and took their places on the dining table noisily. They had to start lunch without the hosts as Zareen was on the phone and some guy from the office had come in to see  Rayhan.‘’ Tai ma, tell him to stop, he is kicking me under the table’’ One of the nieces was complaining. Zainab picked up the girl and made some space on her own chair ‘’ Why don’t you beat him up Tai ma, he is so naughty’’ the little girl was still complaining. Zainab laughed ‘’ I won’t let him kick you’’ she said putting some food in the little girl’s plate. They were busy eating when the faint noise of heated voices in argument drifted towards the dining room over the clatter of plates and spoons. The children fell silent. Rayhan and Zareen were arguing about something again. Zainab looked at the faces of the children, shut the sliding doors and turned on the TV to a cartoon channel.

Zareen stormed into the dining room and looked at Zainab with ferocious eyes ignoring the children completely ‘’What did you say to my husband’’ ? She demanded? Zainab was taken aback ‘’ What are you talking about ‘’? She said, ‘’I hardly saw him for 30 seconds as he came in.’’ The children left their food uneaten and were standing in front of the TV in a huddle.  Pretending to watch cartoons, annoyed and upset at their mother’s shouting fit. ‘’ I tried making up with you for my husband’s sake but you will never change will you ‘’ Zareen looked like she would kill Zainab with her words if she could ‘’This is my home, this is my husband’s money, this is my life’’ Zareen continued in a high pitch ‘’ ‘’Why is it that every time you step here Rayhan starts counting every Rupee I spend and calls me an empty headed  spendthrift’’ Zainab looked at Zareen and didn’t know what to say . Everyone in the family knew of the other couple’s marital problems. Why was she always being dragged into the middle of all this. Why did everything that went wrong in Zareen’s life land at her door. Why was she the ultimate scape goat for this couple who never wanted to examine the real reasons of their marital breakdown.

Zainab sighed picked up her bag, put on her chaddar, went to the porch looking for the driver and got into the car silently, feeling helpless and tearful. This wasn’t the first time she had been at the receiving end of Zareen’s wrath. She had asked Zain so many times to find a way to avoid sending her to visit the younger brother’s home or inviting them over so often. Zain himself had no solution. Recently there had been a short period of respite , looked like that was over. ‘’ Ignore her’’ was all Zain said ‘’ why are you taking an illiterate woman like Zareen so seriously’’ and that would be the end of the conversation.

Zareen was on the phone the moment Zainab left and threatened the in laws with dire consequences from Mrs Jahan if they didn’t keep to their side of the agreement. That same evening Zainab and the children were on an Air Canada flight on their way to Toronto. The airplane window was misting over. Zainab’s   eyes were stinging and blurred with tears she had never felt more helpless or small in her life. The children had turned on the airplanes entertainment channels and were busy watching their favourite films unaware of the tragedy that had crept into their life without making a sound.

Zain’s family had surrounded him convincing him he had done the right thing sending Zainab back and putting Rayhan’s bribe money in his own business account.  He couldn’t have done that if Zainab had stayed around. She would have blabbed to the whole world and Rayhan would have been caught putting his life in danger. ‘’How will his life be in danger ‘’ Zain was thinking helplessly,’’ what about my life? ‘’ Zain’s sisters were pleading with him ‘’You know he is so sensitive, had a protected life,  harsh life of jail will kill him’’ all this sounded like emotional blackmail to Zain who sat quietly with his head in his hands and said nothing. It was too late anyway, he had already lost everything. The family had saved Rayhan’s corruption at his cost because of Rayhan’s money going into their own bank accounts. Money had defeated humanity and decency, what was new? Same old story he thought. The tea on his table was going cold. He could still hear his youngest’s child’s voice ringing in his ears. ‘’Baba don’t take long coming to Canada, I will be very cross with you if you do’’

A week later several raids were made on all the high officials of the works department and their families. Nothing was found in any official’s home. The police were wondering whether to close the inquiry.

The bank reported a large cash remittance in Zain’s accounts as a matter of routine. The person recording remittances noted that the source hadn’t been provided as per law and flagged the account. The company was contacted but could not provide any answers and the fraud hotline got involved. Zain and his two partners were arrested. The partners families bailed them out but no one came to bail out Zain. He just received a note from some big official in the works department telling him to keep quiet if he didn’t want his children  in danger. The strain got too much for Zain, ultimately he broke down under pressure and named his brother Rayhan as the source of the large stash of cash. Rayhan was arrested and tried ,the two partners  freed without charge and both Rayhan and Zain sentenced to 15 years jail for money laundering, fraud and corruption.

Zain’s youngest child still sits on his window sill looking into the maple filled streets orange, red and yellow leaves wondering why his Baba broke his promise to him. His Baba had never broken a promise to him before. Zainab picks up his sleepy head and takes him to bed singing him a soft lullaby that helps him forget his Baba till morning