The soul collector

                                                                 The soul collector

A beautiful girl was dancing in the middle of the hall. She was an expert of Kathak dancing.  The chandelier was brightly lit, the whirling reflection of the girls multi coloured clothes was creating a rainbow effect in the giant mirrors along the walls. The jingly bits around her feet making a harmonious sound in time with the Tabla (little drum) playing to a dull thumping beat. Men sprawled on the luxurious sofa’s were drinking heavily and singing discordantly in time with the music. A young girl and a teenage boy were filling up the empty alcohol glasses. A man with bloodshot eyes and a huge moustache lurched from the corner of the hall and threw a wad of thousand rupee paper money notes on the dancing girl. Helpers of the dancing girl dashed  across the room  grabbing all the paper money stuffing it in their pockets hurriedly. Nawazish the owner of the mansion was staring at the dancing girl fascinated by her feet. They were silky smooth and had hina patterns going all around them.

A chef dressed in snowy white and golden uniform came in to announce dinner. The owner of the mansion was too drunk to move to the dining hall and gestured for the food to be brought to him. He filled his plate to the brim with biryani, nihari and many kinds of kebabs. The rich aroma of food was making the little helpers mouth water. They looked with hungry eyes at one dish of rich food after another carried past them. They all sat in a huddle in the corner not invited to dinner, their stomach rumbling with hunger pangs. The dancing girl was sitting in the lap of the mansion owner Nawazish giggling away hysterically.

An official walked in mobile in hand and stood by respectfully as the mansion owner frowned at the interruption to his evening. Some opposition leader had called his workers and was protesting outside the mansion, demanding an inquiry into the mysterious deaths in factory’s Nawazish owned. 

He called someone on the same mobile and said ‘’why haven’t you sorted this son of a bitch’’? He seemed angry and pushed the dancing girl out of his lap. ‘’ How many times have I told you not to bring these small matters to me, call the DIG police and have them arrested, find whatever you can on this opposition guy and send it to the media ’’ He said the veins on his temples standing out his face gone crimson with anger. He asked the assistant to help him off the sofa as he dragged his feet towards the part of the mansion where his family lived.

The wife in expensive clothes and in her mid fifties looked distraught. The fancy gold jewellery and bright lights made the worry lines on her face stand out. She looked at Nawazish with pleading eyes trying to say something ,. Before she could open her mouth he shut her down with his sour tone  ‘’What do you want now’’ he said ‘’I am really tired, go to sleep’’   He sank down on the bed and used the remote to turn the lights off.  He could hear the wife sniffling and sobbing in the dark but he couldn’t care less. He was bored with this old woman, she didn’t interest him anymore. ‘’I have to find a way to get rid of her’’ he thought sleepily  adjusting his head on the soft pillow.

He found himself in a strange place,his mind drifting off to sleep. It was a dark and powerful place. He had accumulated everything he had ever dreamt off. Nawazish the richest man of the country, biggest land holder, owner of factories in twenty countries around the world. With his limited education he had managed to defeat all his political rivals with his version of politics. No one could bypass him. Yet he was bored. The money the power the women the destruction of all rivals. Nothing seemed enough, something was missing. He got up in the middle of the night, breaking out in sweat. He slid open the French window and stepped out into the heavy humid monsoon air. The strong sweet smell of orchids and the night queen made him sick. Of course that was it. Suddenly  the reason for his unhappiness struck him like a thunder bolt. Everything good and wholesome made him feel sick bringing out the darkness in his soul, it made him feel like the bad guy. ‘’Why can’t I feel like that stupid opposition guy sleeping on the street’’ he could see the dark forms of the protesters sprawled on the grass without a care in the world. ‘’Why can’t I feel the euphoria of being the good guy’’ The tic in his forehead and temples pulsing again. He wanted to strangle all saviours of humanity. Snatch the soul inside them, suck it out and fill it with the rage he experienced day and night. That nagging feeling of inferiority and guilt that wouldn’t go away with all the luxury money could buy. That was it, he had to pull everyone down to where no one remembered what it was like to be good. He would suck that thing out of them that made him feel bad. When all memory of good was gone, who would remind him of how many people he had killed and destroyed to get where he was. He had to find a way to suck out souls and use the bodies as his robot slaves always obedient always repeating what he wanted to hear. That’s it he smiled inwardly, ‘’I have to find a way to do all this, end of nagging righteous voices’’ He shut the French windows turned the AC to max pushing away the sweet strong aroma of orchids and the night queen.

 The workers in another factory had gone on strike. They were all sitting in groups outside the front door, the union leader was standing on a makeshift stage made from a few wooden tables put together. The workers were demanding a pay rise as it had been frozen since they  joined the factory. They were also demanding free medical as some of them were frequently ill working close to the heat of the electric arc furnace. The overseer of the factories came in his shiny black Mercedes and parked it a few meters away from the striking workers. The windows were tinted and no one could see who was in the car. He called Nawazish and explained the situation.‘’ How many workers are  on strike?’’ the boss asked  ‘’ About five hundred  sir ‘’ the overseer said in his best subservient tone . ‘’ How many of them can we replace by tomorrow’’ Nawazish asked breathing heavily into the phone. ‘’ Not many ‘’ the overseer sounded sheepish ‘’ most of them are skilled labour and training new one’s will take time.’’  Nawazish thought silently for a moment and said ‘’ tell the workers that all their demands have been accepted and arrange a separate meeting with the union leader after the factory shuts down at eight. Next morning the police were called into the factory to report an unfortunate accident. The union leader had slipped and fallen into the factory furnace. No witnesses could be found as the workers had all gone home while the union leader was still in the office chatting with the overseer, who claimed he had left him well and alive. The workers stood around the front entrance for a while, discussing what to do. The DIG of police drove by and police were told to arrest anyone who wanted to go on strike again on suspicion of murdering the union leader. The workers looked broken as they trooped back into the factory heads lowered shoulders sagging. Accepting the same old pay and conditions wasn’t easy but now they knew the alternative was the furnace or jail on framed charges.

Nawazish was fed up of all the bad news and problems surrounding his factories. A close friend  recommended contacting a peer sahib in the countryside. This is a good time to escape the city thought Nawazish as his fleet of cars drove towards the countryside loaded with fruit baskets and expensive jewellery for the peer sahib’s wife.  The palatial house in the countryside was surrounded by green wheat fields, Amultas and Kicker trees. White female peacocks were strutting around the grass, beautiful green male peacocks were roosting on the roof and making loud cooing sounds every now and then. Two gardeners were moving between flower beds picking out weeds and cutting excess grass with a sharp sickle. Nawazish was impressed with the grand looking haveli and wondered how much it was worth.?

The peer Sahibs sitting room looked like a mini palace with wall to wall carpets and hand painted calligraphy paintings that looked hundreds of years old. The sitting room doors opened up on a big fruit garden full of mango and apricot trees. Nawazish was trying to make a mental estimate of how much the Peer sahibs surrounding land where wheat farming was going would be worth, excluding the house. The peer sahib came in dressed in a starched white kurta shalwar and flowing white head gear. He had an expensive Kuwaiti hand woven shawl around his shoulders that had the faint aroma of incense and musk. They made themselves comfortable on the diwans. Servants brought in small Qehva cups with fruits and nuts on the side. Nawazish ordered all his assistants and ministers out of the room. Then he told  the peer sahib a woeful story of problems in his factories, in his govt and people claiming he had defrauded them of land that was rightfully his. How he couldn’t sleep at night with all this worry. The peer sahib looked at him affectionately and put an arm around his shoulder. He smiled and said ‘’ all will be well from now, you have come to the right place’’ Nawazish looked unsure. The peer Sahib continued ‘’I knew from the moment I saw you that someone whose name begins with ‘Jeem’ has done some bad black magic on you, I will remove all that. No worries.’’

The peer sahib did a long Amal (chanting ) on Nawazish and soon he was feeling light as a feather. All  anxiety had left him. He knew now what to do and who had done bad black magic on him. It was Jalil the opposition leader whose name began with a Jeem. He was in a strange daze as he left the palatial house in the countryside. All of a sudden everything looked so simple and easy. He was the victim so why should he feel guilty, no more fear of accountability . That is how simple it was. Shutting out all negative feeling, never having to admit any wrongdoing. This new power surging through his body and mind made him feel like a god. That was it this was what he wanted . Feeling of being whole and free through absolute sheer belief in his own innocence. Why carry the little nagging voices of guilt that made him weak. He smiled happily and felt very generous. He asked his secretary to place an order of sheep head and foot (Asian meat dish) biryani and nan for all his staff and cabinet ministers.

 Next morning Nawazish was on a flight to London. The lavish hall of the New Savoy was full of his friends from all over Europe. His cabinet ministers and party members were also there in big numbers. This was a meet the press and electronic media function. Nawazish wanted to hire new speech writers from this crowd. He had arranged for their stay on the govt’s expense showing it as Foreign Relation building trip. His ministers and political party had been busy arranging small presents for all the media people attending the FR tour. Some were given flats in NY and Dubai. Some others had lucrative contracts added to their media companies. Others got luxury cars and any cases of misappropriation wiped off their records. A fleet of luxury cars had been hired to take all the media people and their families around London for sightseeing and shopping all being paid by Nawazish and his associates through the govt treasury. Images and videos of Nawazish attending PR dinners and lunches in posh hotels were flashed all over the tabloids and social media of his home country. Nawazish and his party people were in high spirits. The trip had gone well. Nawazish wasn’t bothered with the criticism or the loud mouth opposition leader Jalil anymore. The media people were building Nawazish up as a mini god and the most sincere leader the nation had in decades.Two weeks later  the media people were flown back home. Soon after the tabloids and TV channels started reporting terrible scandals associated with the opposition leader Jalil. Crowds at his meetings became thin. People threw rubbish and garbage outside his home. Graffiti discoloured all his outer walls. His party offices in the city were broken into and vandalised. His wife and children fled the house and moved to an undisclosed location fearing for their life. The courts were full of 20year old cases opened up against the opposition leader. 

This new found power through the media had made Nawazish’s life much easier. He didn’t have to look over his shoulder all the time.  He could live his life more freely and carelessly. He rarely ever went home to his wife anymore. Most of his time was now spent in the hills  with his beautiful mistress or in the male quarters of his mansion with his friends and the dancing girls. A usual he was enjoying a drink with his friends in the mansion hall when his PA walked in looking somewhat nervous ‘’ Begum Sahiba is unwell and wants to see you. A dark shadow appeared in his eyes ,his brow furrowed. ‘’when will this woman leave me alone ‘’ he thought in annoyance . She was sitting on the prayer mat as he came in to see her . ‘’ Why don’t you come home anymore ‘’? the wife asked tearfully ‘’ because I am busy with govt stuff ‘’ he said rudely making no attempt to sit ‘’ I will send a doctor to see you tomorrow ‘’ he said walking back to the door. The wife got up from the prayer mat ‘’I have heard many bad things about you, I am worried’’ she stood next to him trying to look him in the eyes, she held his hand trying to get him to sit down. Nawazish jerked his hand away ‘’ I am busy with things , can’t stay’’ he said rudely. ‘’Who is Zari Gul, why are people talking about her’’ the wife sounded choked with emotion. ‘’ I am successful and powerful people are jealous, that’s all’’ he patted her on the shoulder in a patronising manner and left the room with a bad taste in his mouth.

 Next evening Nawazish was annoyed to see the protestors and the opposition leader  in front of his mansion again. He had made them disappear for a few weeks with pressure from the media.  Now they were back again blocking his front entrance shouting at him ,waving  flags and banners as he drove past. Some even threw stones at his bullet proof car and were shooed away by elite armed police who ran after them guns at the ready. Nawazish told the driver ‘’stop the car’’ he rolled down the window looking really annoyed. ‘’ Why are these people still here, damaging my property’’ he asked the police guard in an angry voice. ‘’ Get them out of here by tomorrow if you don’t want to lose your job‘’ he barked at the police officer in charge ‘’Sorry sir, I will try my best’’ the police officer sounded scared and apologetic.

 Late at night a mob of Nawazish’s political party and a lot of policemen dressed in plain clothes raided the makeshift tents of the opposition leader and his followers inundating them with water. Many of the protesters left in the morning as they had caught a chill during the night. Some sat it out on dry plastic sheets. The women among the protestors had just started preparing breakfast and were having difficulty trying to light up the soggy wood. Suddenly there was smashing of glass and screaming. The policemen in plain clothes and people from Nawazish’s political party were back with guns . They smashed car windows kicked the tents down and broke all pots pans and furniture in the tents using heavy wooden sticks. The women screamed and huddled together in a tight knot.  The men picked up chairs and tried fighting the attackers. One of the attackers picked up a mega phone and shouted into it ‘’All of you have 5 minutes to leave or you will be arrested for destroying private property, creating disorder and inciting violence.’’ The small crowd stayed and did not move for several hours. Other protestors joined them and by evening the crowd had increased by several dozens. Shortly before sundown Nawazish ordered to shoot the protesters point blank if they were still refusing to leave. ‘’ Make an example of these bastards’’ he shouted at the police head ‘’showing weakness is not an option’’ Twenty five people died in the shooting including seven women and three children and dozens were injured. Nawazish heard the news with a cold cruel glint in his eyes. His political party and ministers however went into pandemonium.  They were worried this incident would give them bad press and they could lose seats in the elections. The cabinet was all gathered around Nawazish trying to make sense of what had just happened. ‘’ Nothing will happen and we won’t lose the election  ‘’ Nawazish said fixing his tie in the mirror. ‘’ I have sorted everything’’ he said with a smile ‘’ I have to teach you people the use of four strategies  of using fear and terror to control human behaviour , no problems after that’’ he smiled defiantly. The party people were looking at him stupidly ‘’what are the four strategies of fear ’’ they were thinking ? Will they help  silence the social media that was showing images of people lying in pools of blood.

Nawazish went straight to Zari Gul’s house in the hills , annoyed with the lack of faith his party  and cabinet were showing in him and their lack of belief in peer sahibs ability to get him out of every mess. Zari Gul was dressed in a white Kamiz Shalwar feeding the parakeets in her front garden. . She smiled as Nawazish drove in and took him to the bedroom. ‘’ you seem very upset today ‘’ she said looking at him with her huge black beautiful eyes ‘’ Has something gone wrong’’ Nawazish looked around  the bedroom which was decorated like an oriental harem. There were carpets and diwans of all colours and shapes. Lace curtains flowing with the wind opening towards the beautiful garden of  rose bushes from many lands .  A small water fountain just outside the door and a soft sitar playing on her video recorder hidden behind the antique sandalwood cupboards on the walls. Nawazish sat on the diwan half lying down. Zari Gul sat on the swinging sofa rocking back and forth gently. She played with her dupatta and fed Nawazish some grapes out of a fruit bowl, gently caressing his hand. ‘’ You worry too much’’ she said laughing softly’’ You already know so many ways to control people’’ her tone became hushed purring like a dark panther ‘’why don’t you use them’’

‘’It isn’t so easy,’’ Nawazish said in an annoyed tone ‘’We offered money to that stupid man Jalil and even blackmailed his family’’ he said ‘’nothing seems to work on him’’  Nawazish was lying flat on the Diwan gobbling up the grapes Zari Gul was feeding him ‘’Then get him killed’’ Zari said with a flowery gesture of her delicate hand. Her bangles jingled like bells and reminded Nawazish vaguely of his wife at home ‘’ He pushed the image out as quickly as he could. The grapes were not filling him up. He realised that he was very hungry , he always felt hungry when he was stressed  ‘’Lets go out to eat‘’ he said ‘’ I will take you to a place that has the best Haleem nan, sheep brain and korma in the whole world ’’

The driver went several miles up in the hills to another town where they could eat in peace. The hotel’s restaurant was surrounded with dark green pine trees. Soft wind flowing through the pine needles brought the faint aroma of pine wood with it. Someone was cooking something on firewood down in the valley, the occasional crow came down from the trees cawing loudly. Zari Gul was trying her best to lift his spirits.‘’ Lets go for a walk in the hills’’ she said to Nawazish ’’putting her arms around his thick waist. ‘’ Don’t feel like it today ‘’ he said his brow still furrowed with worry lines. ‘’ I haven’t figured out what to do with this whole mess in the city’’ Zari Gul laughed  her bangles jingled again ’’ She made a slashing gesture against his throat. ‘’ Get rid of them and disappear somewhere for a few weeks ‘’Nawazish was startled , for a woman she was quite hard hearted ‘’ No one will find anything, the peer sahib  can cover up everything for you’’ she said running down the hill , bangles jingling her dark  brown hair splashed all around her rosy face .

The entire cabinet was still sitting in the bright hall waiting for Nawazish to return from the hills. The Tabla master and his assistants were on the floor near the entrance. Dancing girls were moving around the hall aimlessly wondering when the evening would kick off. The ministers looked worried, they were not as powerful or resourceful as Nawazish, some didn’t want to put their careers online.  Two of them were considering a resignation but were also afraid. Most people who crossed Nawazish ended up having strange unexplained accidents or became bankrupt overnight. Those thoughts were troubling everyone. Most members secretly thought Nawazish had gone too far ordering the shooting of protestors. But no one would have the courage to say anything to his face. They all lived in deep fear of him. Several hours of discussion later the cabinet members were no closer to a solution.  Uniformed chefs had brought in tea and coffee several times with cream cakes, samosas and sandwiches. The cabinet members liked to eat and the master’s pantry was always full. Nawazish had ordered the cabinet members to wait for him , no one could leave until further orders. The dancing girls and Tabla masters had gone home. Most cabinet members tired of smoking and drinking tea and coffee were lying on the sofas yawning nearly  half asleep.

Sometime past midnight Nawazish’s brother and two sons came in all smartly dressed in dark suits and colourful ties .The cabinet members were  all to join the family in a trip to Palm Beach Florida. Nawazish didn’t want to face the critics at home after the shootings outside his mansion so he decided to book an entire floor of an expensive hotel in Palm Beach for a month all paid by the govt. He had also booked a private jet for himself and his cabinet members also paid by the govt . They would do some more Foreign Relation building exercises until everything cooled down back home.  

Nawazish liked walking on the beach bare foot in his shorts and T shirt. His Hungarian escort clinging onto his arm. Nawazish never wore swimming trunks or went into the water. He was very self conscious and didn’t want  people to laugh at his fat figure. The Hungarian girl asked him ‘’ you are so powerful strong and rich Nawazish, how did you get here ?’’ she laughed coquettishly ‘’ teach me also’’  ‘’Ahaa’’ Nawazish made an arrogant noise in his throat ‘’ you have to suck the soul out of people and turn them into your slaves’’ he looked into the blue eyes of the Hungarian girl ‘’ do you know how to do that ……he asked puffing out his chest in joy. ‘’ No I don’t’’ the Hungarian found this strange rich fat man extremely funny and stupid. She wasn’t sure if he was saying these things to make her laugh or if he was actually serious. Either way acting impressed with him would get her a bigger cheque  so she didn’t care.  ‘’So how do you do that big man ‘’ she asked falling all over him batting her long eye lashes in his face ‘’ I scare them , I scare them real good ‘’ Nawazish said putting on his scary face trying to score some points with the pretty blond girl. The Hungarian laughed hysterically. ‘’ You are so sweet, you fat bald man’’ Nawazish puffed up to look more macho ‘’Sometimes I just have them killed’’ he said showing off . The Hungarian continued laughing as she ran back towards the sea front getting tired of Nawazish’s childish need to impress her. He walked into the hotel lobby to find his two sons and sons in law having a conference with several businessmen from all over the continent. They were busy making deals for their own business companies and offering lucrative govt deals in exchange for a commission paid to them personally. One of his sons and some assistants followed Nawazish into the lift. ‘’ Aba ji one of these companies wanted a contract for the gold drilling  I gave it to them, Is that OK? ’ he asked quizzically ‘’What have they offered in return’’ Nawazish asked in a matter of fact tone. The son waited until they were in the room and ordered the assistants to open the briefcases they were carrying. Two brief cases were full of dollars and the third had several gold bars laid out neatly and evenly. Nawazish had a proud and satisfied look in his eyes. ‘’ His sons had learnt well’’ He patted his son’s shoulder proudly. ‘’Just make sure to load all this on a launch to Dubai when we send the other cash and gold, you know the process don’t you’’ he was still smiling broadly at his son. ‘’Yes Aba JI I know perfectly’’ the son said elated with the father’s praise.  

Jalil hadn’t slept for the past several nights tending to the wounded that had been brought into the hospitals after the fatal shooting outside the mansion. Some had no money for medicines. Others had no family in the city. The children who had been injured were too young and crying constantly with the pain. Jalil’s entire family his sisters and brother were lending a hand, pitching in for medicines, bringing in fresh clothes and food for the patients. Sitting with the children throughout the night. Jalil’s home had been turned into a mini hospital for all who couldn’t get admission in the hospitals due to bed shortage. Jalil’s wife had returned from hiding and was cooking for all 30 to 40 people three times a day. Jalil was tired and exhausted from having no sleep but he wasn’t going to abandon the people who had believed in him and his struggle for a better future. He was resting on one of the hospital beds with his back to the wall. A few tears ran down his cheeks when he was alone. He looked at the darkening sky through the dull window pane and thought ‘’ Allah are the people of my country never to have a normal life or any peace ’’?  The first star of the evening appeared in the ink blue sky twinkling  away silver light. That lone star made Jalil happy and brought his hope back ‘’ No one should have to go through this for speaking the truth’’ he looked at the tiny shapes of bandaged children lying on the beds around him. A strange powerful energy came into him and he was more determined than ever to go on fighting for these children and against Nawazish and his inhuman cruelty to his people.

Back home someone had spotted Nawazish and Zari Gul in the hills. taken a few pictures on the mobile. They were now circulating all over the tabloids, mainstream media and social media. There was a small rebellion going on in his political party and cabinet. One bad news after another was hurting the image of the party and govt. Nawazish was sick and tired of all these weak people unaware of the power of money.  He had come to Palm Beach to escape the stress back home and now people for whom his govt was footing expensive bills were doing his head in again. The secretaries from the govt press department were calling him constantly. They wanted him to issue some statement denying the whole thing. His wife had left at least twenty messages.  Zari Gul’s daughter’s and estranged husband were in NY on the evening news condemning Nawazish for irresponsible behaviour.. Everything felt in meltdown, the peer sahib was in Mecca and wouldn’t pick up the phone.  Nawazish decided to sit out the heat in the media until it all blew over. He instructed his chief cashier back home to double the pay packets for media people and invite them to as many banquets and evening parties as possible until his return.  ‘’How do I pay for all this sir’’ the cashier asked politely ‘’ the govt press department, they are media people, aren’t they?’’ Nawazish said haughtily, annoyed that the cashier was still so green to how his govt functioned.

The Hungarian was trying her best to attract his attention. Dressed in a skimpy black bikini her tanned slim figure was glowing in the sun. Nawazish looked at her with empty eyes. The torment of bad news from home was getting too much. He decided to go for a walk on the beach alone. For a while he tried to be philosophical about life and bring back the feeling the peer sahib had given him , about being the victim and all that but it just wasn’t working anymore. His heart felt heavy as he dragged tired footsteps back to the hotel lobby. His assistant ran to him with a message from his sons. They had all flown back home as their mother had attempted suicide over the Zari Gul  affair and was in hospital in life threatening condition.

Nawazish hated hospitals, the starchy smell of clean linen mixed with bathroom bleach and medicines nauseated him. His wife was in OT being operated on. Nawazish was so angry with her for making such a spectacle of herself and becoming an international embarrassment for him. The entire hospital floor had been vacated due to security concerns. Nawazish was sitting outside in the VIP waiting room alone wondering when he could go home to his own comfortable bed. His wife would probably be in OT several hours, why should he get a headache in this stinky hospital. His secretaries and security guard were pacing up and down the corridor trying to keep the media out. ‘’Maybe I should hang around a bit more ‘’ Nawazish thought remembering the angry faces of his sons and daughters who were not saying anything but clearly blamed him for their mother’s present state.

Jalil used his security pass to get into the  hospital and went up to  OT where his surgeon brother was working. He was surprised to see so much security dotted in and around the OT and all over the hospital. Then he saw Nawazish huddled in an armchair in the VIP area looking shrivelled and old.Jalil was transfixed in the moment. The man who had caused him and his people so much pain was sitting in an ordinary hospital like an ordinary loser looking more lost than ever. ‘’So this is the great Goliath’’ Jalil thought with disdain. He looks so ordinary and pathetic up close. At that moment Jalil’s brother came out of the OT saw Jalil  smiled at him and said  ‘’ good news bro , the three children you brought in from the shooting scene all successfully operated on yesterday and recovering beautifully’’  Jalil was overwhelmed with emotion ‘’thanks be to Allah’’ he said in a choked voice. The children had been in so much pain with the bullets lodged in their legs, arms and stomach and looked so ill everyone thought they wouldn’t make it. ‘’Can I see them’’? Jalil asked excitedly ‘’ in a minute’’ the brother went into the VIP waiting room where Nawazish was sitting huddled up on the sofa.‘’I am sorry sir, your wife didn’t make it, we tried very hard……but …Allah’s will‘’ he  said sympathetically . Nawazish looked broken, his face ashen from shock ‘’Allah has punished me for killing those children’’ he felt pain in his heart. Tears came to the brim of his eyes but he stopped them there. ‘’I have never shown weakness no not going to show any now ’’   he clenched his fists hard ‘’Just going to find the man who hurt me and destroy him’’ he frowned  looking around  bitterly as if the entire world was out to get him. He took big strides going out of the hospital. Ignoring his family and assistants coming up the stairs. Muttering rude abuse under his breath he shouted at the driver to drive him home from the shortest route possible.