Libre Magazine

The ring was beautiful. She couldn’t take her eyes off it. The solitaire shone with all its brilliance, and mesmerized her. She knew instantly, the ring she was to choose for her engagement would have to be the one she held in her hand.

“I love it!” she squealed with delight.

“So be it, darling.” He replied with a smile as he looked at her flushed, excited face, and took out one of his many impressive credit cards to pay for it – it wasn’t practical to carry around a lot of cash.

Mr. Rahim, standing behind the counter, looked through his thick glasses.

“An excellent choice, madam!” he beamed.

The platinum ring with a huge solitaire diamond was brought to Rahim Shah by a contact from Africa along with other classic pieces promising huge profits. It graded highly on his scale of the four c’s, but surprisingly, it had drawn a much muted response from his customers.

It would’ve been rather silly and superstitious to say so – and Rahim prided himself on his rational approach - but it seemed to lose its brilliance the moment somebody put it on!

‘Not today, though!’ He noticed. ‘Why, it practically looks alive on the girl’s hand!’

“Here you go, sir.” He placed it in an attractive box, displaying his most impressive mannerism.

“May you find immeasurable joy in your life ahead…thank you for trusting us in your precious moments.”

He saw them leave with satisfied smiles on their faces quite matching his own.

*****

Zohaib’s father, Mr. Mannan, owned a thriving textile business and Zohaib was doing quite well as its General Manager. An only son, Zohaib was a tall, athletic young man with a charming smile, not to mention a very fat bank account! Judging from the admiring looks he received from girls wherever he went, he was any girl’s dream catch.

Alina, an attractive girl in her twenties, had recently joined the company as a textile designer, and was beyond doubt one of the most talented designers working for them. She had managed to endear herself to every member of the staff in a very short span of time with her gentle mannerism and professional acumen.

It was hardly surprising then, that Zohaib fell for her immediately, and she, for her part, didn’t hesitate a moment when he proposed three weeks later. She wore the classic solitaire diamond ring two days hence.

The girls at the office were ecstatic…well, most of them, anyway.

“Lina, its lovely! Congrats, girl!” Faria hugged her warmly.

“I knew she would be the one to catch the most eligible bachelor in town!” Shelly winked, as she made her way across the room to her dear friend. “I just hope he knows how lucky he is!”

“Oh, I think I’m luckier, really…” gushed Alina.

“Why, of course you are,” Muneera cut in acidly, “who doesn’t want to roll in money?”

“Shut up, Muneera!” Faria and Shelly chided her in unison.

“A diamond is considered mighty risky to wear, you know”, she continued unabated, “bad things have been known to happen if it doesn’t suit the person wearing it.”

“Pay no attention to her, honey…she’s just jealous.” Shelly tried to take the sting out of her words, but Alina’s smile had dropped at the corners.

She picked up her handbag, muttered a hasty goodbye, and left the office.

‘She’s just a superstitious old cow, who can’t see anyone happy.’ She muttered to herself as she walked down the corridor.

As she entered the elevator, Zohaib joined her out of nowhere.

“Hey, gorgeous…where to?”

“Huh…er, just …um…Zohaib, do diamonds bring bad luck?” she asked hesitantly.

“What? Hmm…now, who’s been putting silly ideas in your pretty head?” he ruffled her hair.

“Oh, no… I…er…I just…” she took a deep breath and blurted out, “I just don’t want anything to spoil our happiness.”

“And nothing will, I promise.” Zohaib squeezed her hand. “Stop working yourself up over nothing! Just relax and be happy…do whatever pleases your fancy till the big day…hmmm… hey, I can’t wait!” He pulled her close with a mischievous look in his eyes.

She pushed him away, blushing, “Now, don’t be naughty!”

The door slid open and she stepped out.

*****

The wedding ceremony took place with all the pomp-and-show expected, with a guest list long and heavy enough to impress the Queen! After all, it was the wedding of the Mighty Industrialist’s only son. Everyone turned up. Why it wouldn’t do to miss the grandest occasion in town…great time for building business connections too!

Both the families were ecstatic with the union. Alina’s father, Dr. Noor-ul-Haq, supported a lavish lifestyle, and a liberal outlook. He was quite pleased with Alina’s choice of a husband. Zohaib looked like a sensible boy who would keep his daughter happy. His wife appeared more impressed with his financial status, though!

Alina looked ravishing in her deep red wedding dress, decked up in exquisite designer jewellery worth a fortune. Her face glowed with an inner radiance evident of true love she had found so early in life.

The girls surrounded her with oohs and aahs, raving about how lovely she looked. Alina saw Muneera staring at her diamond ring. Their eyes met, and Muneera raised an eyebrow meaningfully. Alina looked away. She didn’t want Muneera’s jealousy spoiling her Big day.

Zohaib couldn’t take his eyes off Alina. He shook his head in wonder. The biggest skeptic when it came to matters of the heart, he mocked his friends when they spoke of falling in love. And here he was …head-over-heels!

‘I guess, it happens to the best of us!’ he shrugged his shoulders, smiling.

Finally, the rukhsati took place after much delay. It was almost 1:00 a.m. and the entourage proceeded slowly from hotel to home, the security vehicle leading. Zohaib and Alina sat together in the second car, tired but looking forward to a wonderful start of a new life ahead.

As they reached near their destination, suddenly the car in front screeched to a halt amid sound of loud gunfire. The sound of bursting car tyres and shattering glass filled the air.

Zohaib ducked instinctively and pulled Alina down with him, shielding her body with his own. There was chaos everywhere.

Then, someone pulled open the rear door on Zohaib’s side, and put a gun to his head.

“Step out with your hands in the air, and don’t try to be smart!” a menacing voice rasped.

Zohaib had no choice. He realized that they were surrounded, he was not carrying a gun and their own security force had been rendered useless … disarmed or dead. It was a time to act sensibly, not for heroics. He quietly stepped out.

Alina stared at him terrified, still crouching. Zohaib gave her a warning look, urging her to stay still.

“Okay, now, everyone start putting your purses, jewellery, watches…everything in the bag my friend is bringing to you. And no acts of bravery…or the handsome groom will be the first one to go!”

The leader had his face covered but the tone told everyone that he meant every word.

As Alina struggled to take off her jewellery, the diamond ring got stuck in her finger.

“Hurry up, we haven’t got all day!” screamed the one with the bag.

She pulled harder, but it wouldn’t come off. She panicked and cried out, “It won’t come off!”

Distant sound of police sirens began filling the air. The neighbours had probably alerted them.

“What the hell…just cut her finger, No.2!” They didn’t want to leave behind anything the bride was wearing…it would have to be worth a fortune.

The sound of sirens grew louder and No.2 seemed to panic. As he pulled the ring off in one savage movement, his gun went off …the sound of a single shot reverberated through the air…

Alina felt red-hot pain slicing through her chest…her head fell back as she tried to keep her eyes open…

“Zohaib…” she whispered through numbing senses and blurring vision…

“No!” screamed Zohaib as he lunged forward, kicking the leader in the stomach, and ran to Alina’s side.

The gang-leader fell backwards, rolled over and ran to his waiting car, screaming at No.2 to follow suit. Killing any member of the influential family had not been part of their plan.

“Lina…Lina…look at me…open your eyes, honey…” Zohaib shouted desperately over and over again, as he held his lovely bride in his arms, willing her to respond.

But she had moved on… to a realm beyond his reach.

*****

Sitting in the backseat, Aslam pulled off the mask and rested his head against the headrest. He was shaken. He’d never killed anyone before.

‘It was an accident; I didn’t do it on purpose.’ He tried to appease his conscience.

He touched the diamond ring on his finger. It shone brilliantly…he felt strangely hypnotized by its power. Not wanting to share it with the others, he slipped it off and put it in his pocket.

‘Everything went according to plan…never mind the little blunder.’ Roshan, the gang leader, seemed less affected by the bride’s misfortune.

He laughed aloud, “The booty is worth a fortune! We can take a nice long rest now.”

Haroon stepped on the brake as they neared their hideout, a small house they’d rented last month - posing as university students from out of town - pulling an odd robbery or two. Their latest was the biggest hand they had pulled so far. They had decided to move out, and find another suitable place as soon as the initial zeal and fervour of the police investigations faded out. They couldn’t stay in one place for long, anyway, and frequently moved from town to town to avoid being recognised or arrested.

They threw their weapons on the side table and sat around the large center table to empty the booty-bag.

Suddenly, a loud voice was heard speaking on the loud speaker, “You are surrounded. Come out with your hands up.”

“What the hell…?”

‘Had they been followed?’

They lunged towards the guns but a couple of policemen came barging in through the rear door, and started firing indiscriminately.

“Ow…I’m hit man”, Aslam put his hand over his chest and doubled over.

Roshan and Haroon tried to shoot back, but they had been caught off guard and the policemen were damned good shots.

“Run, Haroon…” screamed Roshan, gripping his bleeding shoulder.

Haroon, the youngest of the three, froze as he saw one of the policemen aim his gun at him and shoot at point blank range… Bang!

…He fell to the ground without a sound…a lifeless heap…

“No…! Haroon…brother…” Roshan tried to drag himself to where Haroon had fallen.

Sharafat Ali, the sturdy ASP, kicked him in the ribs and he fell backwards howling in pain, mourning injury… and loss.

Sirens screamed all around and drowned every other sound…

Aslam watched helplessly, rapidly losing consciousness, as the policemen searched bodies for weapons and took possession of the booty-bag.

Sharafat Ali searched Aslam’s pockets. As he put his hand inside his trouser pocket, out came the ring.

‘What a beauty!’ He thought and slid it quietly into his own pocket. ‘Who’d miss such a small piece?’

The injured and the dead were dumped unceremoniously into the back of the police van, and report of the ASP’s efficiency in nabbing the looters in such a short time was being radioed back to the base. There would be plenty of publicity and reward for the raiding party too - the tough job of being crime-fighters had its moments too.

*****

‘Ding-dong, Ding-dong …’

Sharafat Ali pressed the bell, an ear-to-ear grin betraying his inner feelings. He was always excited to see his lovely cousin. He had waited out some time for the publicity to die down and was ready to present Shumyla with the ‘borrowed’ token of his love!

Relaxing in bed, propped up on the pillows, Shumyla looked up from the book she was reading. She wasn’t expecting company.

‘Who could that be, at this time?’ she wondered.

She waited for the maid to inform her. The door opened without a knock and she was startled to find Sharafat barge in unannounced. She got up quickly, the book falling to the floor.

‘Hello, sweetheart! How are you this wonderful morning?” he asked as he looked at her adoringly.

“Fine…er…um…let’s go downstairs and sit in the living room, shall we?”

“Oh, I’m just fine here.” Sharafat settled on the sofa, making himself comfortable.

She adjusted her clothes, feeling terribly self-conscious in her dishevelled appearance. She had been unusually slow in starting her day. With Ammi gone to do some urgent shopping, she felt rather shy being alone with him in the house.

“Uh-ahem…I’ll tell Perveen to make tea” As she tried to walk past him, he leaned forward and got hold of her hand.

“Look what I got for you”, he pulled out the ring and slipped it on her finger.

“Oh!” Shumyla caught her breath.

Then she smiled. “Thanks, its beautiful…must’ve cost you a fortune! You shouldn’t bother with such expensive gifts, Sharafat.”

He felt a momentary pang of guilt, but shrugged it off immediately - in line with his training of keeping himself detached from emotions…and perhaps, conscience too…

“Hey, it’s nothing!” He winked.

“Bibi jee, shall I bring tea?” Perveen knocked on the door.

“Shumyla, I’m home…!” she heard her mother call out from downstairs.

“Let’s go downstairs, Ammi’s back.” She gestured, urging him to follow her.

Sharafat rolled his eyes as he got up, ‘Perfect timing, Auntie jee!’

*****

Munna shivered. He was barefoot, and insufficiently protected against the freezing temperature of the cold winter evening.

His distorted features, evident of harsh beatings, melted many a begum’s tender heart and helped loosen her purse strings. He could see some hard time coming though, because he hadn’t been able to ‘earn’ enough money that day.

He looked around. ‘Where are all the begums today?’

The woman he’d tried to impress just a while back had given him a long and boring lecture on why he should be working instead of begging.

‘Should be…sure, the world was just waiting for him with open arms!’

Some admonished, and some readily dropped a coin in his outstretched palm just to avoid listening to his well-rehearsed dialogues, but no one actually did anything for him.

‘Who’d hire him, anyway? His ugly face and disfigured body made everyone want to look the other way. Ustaad Faqeera had made sure he wouldn’t be of any use to anyone else, and he expected a good flow of cash every day in exchange for food and a place to sleep. And if he disappointed the Ustaad…?’

He shuddered, recalling his last beating.

Ustaad headed their colourful clan, commanding total submission from all members. It was the least they could do in return for his looking after their interests – even striking deals with the police to spare them whenever an anti-beggary drive was on the cards.

He spotted a pretty, young girl trying to cross the road amid heavy traffic. She seemed to be getting impatient. Munna limped towards her rehearsing the lines that got him the maximum response. He had become quite expert at finding just the right words to say to the soft-hearted maidens…

“Baji, God bless your kind heart…help this poor soul…may you grow rich beyond measure…may you find a handsome husband…may you become mother of many sons…” he went on, putting on his most impressive act to draw a favourable response.

She looked at him through compassionate eyes, taking an instinctive step backwards as the offensive smell he emanated entered her nostrils. Barely more than a child but wise beyond his years, he cut a real sorry figure with his torn, inadequate clothing and filthy, disfigured body.

‘God!’ she reached for her purse. ‘He’s worse off than an animal…why is life so unfair?’

She felt guilty for being well-off… dressed in expensive finery and wearing a diamond ring that could afford the beggar a lifetime of luxury.

‘I could’ve been in his place …’ she thought empathically.

“Here you go”, she handed him a hundred-rupee note, and took off the warm shawl she wore over her Shetland wool cardigan. “Wrap this around yourself. It’ll keep you warm.”

He looked at her. ‘Is she for real?’

He took the money from her, deliberately rubbing his hand against hers. She pulled back, surprised, and fished in her purse for a scented wet tissue.

The flow of traffic registered a small break, and she quickly stepped off the pavement.

“Oh.” Munna’s breath caught in his throat as he saw a speeding vehicle appear out of nowhere and hit her head on, dragging her along a little distance. Then it reversed and sped away.

She lay there like a rag doll, crumpled and lifeless.

A few passing cars slowed for a second, and then stepped on their accelerators…
‘No use getting involved - she was probably dead anyway.’

He ran to her side. She was unconscious, a trickle of blood flowed from her ear. He grabbed her purse and pulled the ring off her finger.

‘She has no use for it anymore’, he figured, but it meant extra food and rest time for him.

He could just picture the glint in Ustaad’s big evil eyes when he gave him the booty…

*****

Sharafat Ali sat quietly mourning his loss. He had just buried his beloved.

‘My sweet, innocent Shammo…gone forever’ he swallowed the lump in his throat.

Hit and run. And somebody had had the gall to pick her clean of her belongings too as she lay there helpless…

He felt his blood boil, ‘If he could get his hands on the…!’ he swore under his breath.

“I’ll get him!” he muttered through clenched teeth, and rushed out …

*****

Ustaad gazed at the ring, as it shone with all its wicked brilliance on his hand…

Unaware of its evil power, that far surpassed his own ambition…

Unaware, also, of his fate as the ring yearned for more blood…the next sacrifice.