The idea for this multi-part story was suggested by Waishu to me. It certainly had a zing about it, given that I have enjoyed bringing the activities of sexually active Pakistanis to the fore. This plot interested me because it is about the feudal and rural persons in the country, not my usual expats. This is the first part and more will follow in time.
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Payal considered options on how she could get out of the overly obvious line of sight that the strangely handsome man in the crisp shalwar kameez suit had on her. There are chance sightings and there are open leers. The way he looked at her was not per chance. Yet there was no sign that he was mentally undressing her as so many others at the gathering certainly had done, and perhaps others were doing at that very moment in time. Rather the person seemed to be weighing her for some other purpose and wondered what it may be. Could she gravitate over to her mom and the older ladies who were chatting about antique topics or was it okay to join and hang on to her dad as he sucked down scotches with the other guys? Either sounded unpalatable and for now she had to stay where she was and try not to let the not-so-bad looking guy cause her to react unbecomingly, given that she was among other female relatives of a similar age.
Was she dressed inappropriately for the extended family gathering? Perhaps she was. Just as she had exited the house to get into the car for the drive over to the Gymkhana, her father had a somewhat concerned look on his face. Payal imagined it was because she had decided to wear a sari that not only left her midriff uncovered, but also was sleeveless and sheer. This after all was 1981, and Zia-ul-Haq had already started implementing his infamous Islamization program. While there was no doubt in her mind that she was dressed as she wanted, totally non-conforming to the burqa-dominion envisioned by the asinine president of the country, the stare from the stranger was unnerving her. Perhaps she wondered she should have worn the shalwar kameez that her mom suggested. That still would not have addressed the fact that her beauty would not have been concealed in that case either!
Not surprisingly, Chaudhry Nizam-ud-Din Raziqi was concerned that his daughter was dressed somewhat too Indian for his taste or the mores of current society. Yet he mused how, back in the 1950s, he had been so turned on when her mother, the Chaudhrani, had entertained society while wearing virtually backless saris that were the rage then. Surely, twenty some years on, Payal actually had more clothes on than her mother did at her parties. He mused longingly that he had pulled his wife aside during one of her soirees, hiked up her petticoat and given her an intense rogering in his office, while viewing the party outdoors from the big picture window. Oh yes, he was the open minded Chaudhry sort, loving, respectful of women, doting on his daughter and wife, protector of femaledom and so on. Even his daughter's name, not common in the country, was Indian in origin. He was thoroughly pissed at the asshole bandmaster of a new president who had totally fucked up the air of openness in Pakistan, even though his writ had yet to extend to the Gymkhana or the upper classes. The fact that hijabs and burqas were now regaining popularity rankled within him, and he blamed this on that stupid general.
Perhaps, though, for a bit he wondered if Payal would have been better off with a hijab on the day or even a burqa given the stares she was getting from the males around. The issue of concern was that Naseema Bibi had been his wife now for more than two decades and was somewhat past the prime where even youngsters in their twenties checked her out, whereas Payal on the other hand was now at the age where she would be looked over thoroughly and thus he was perhaps feeling old. Did he not have that odd parental sense that his girl was on show, oh he did! And why was Shahnawaz, his distant cousin Mushtaq Hussein Kakar's son, staring at Payal so intently. Did he have no shame not to eye females, within the clan, in the way he was? Yet he realized that Shahnawaz was on the correct wicket even if checking out the girls on show since, as a distant relative, he was part of an emergent and wealthy part of the same clan as Payal, and belonged at the event. Even so, staring so unabashedly was not the way to take in such a gathering of the extended family. He would need to have a word with Mushtaq soon.
"Naseema, tu dekhiya ay ke oh munda teri kuri teh kinni tak laga riya ay, hor tey kithay nazar hi nahin jaandi? (Naseema, did you see how intently that guy is checking out your daughter, his eyes are going nowhere else?)," one of the fat aunties in her chatting circle formed on one side of the lawn poked Payal's mother with a double-edged remark.
"Ki kita jaye, akhir kuri waikhan de kabil hagi ay, baqi teh ghorian te khotian hi disdiyan nein (What can be done, the girl is worth looking at, the rest here are all mares and donkeys)!" was Naseema's equally sharp retort, at once elevating Payal and denigrating the other girls, including the other person's daughter who was also there.
The aunty shut up immediately and the topic changed post haste. Yet Naseema sensed that she needed to view Payal somewhat different from her little daughter, something she should have done when her breasts started to sprout some years back. Today she appeared more vamp, than debutante, in this company.
"Oh God! Is she gorgeous!" was all Shahnawaz could think. He had caught sight of Payal soon after she had arrived with her father, mother and two younger brothers. Payal had stood out in her fashionable sari while most of the other females were dressed in baggy Punjabi outfits. Her fair skin, just so much paler than that of the other girls, her long tresses so nicely falling to her waist, her confidence in carrying off the relatively revealing outfit, her height which was a good two inches above the average female there, the perkiness of her young breasts, her slimness in contrast to the general obesity, and most of all her piercing eyes left him dumbstruck. He was not staring, it was just that her sight had knocked his sense of place dead and the life had left his body. "I must find out who she is," he made a mental note when finally back to his senses. It was time to mingle, this being the first occasion on which he had attended this annual gathering, but more importantly it was time to scout. "I must have her," was a promise he made to himself as he moved about in the crowd.
Shahnawaz was not the only person taking a prurient interest in Payal. Just to one side of the gathering, covered from sight of most of the older folk, sat a thirty-something man with a daunting physique but a face that could freeze blood. His cock had uncomfortably risen as he eyed Payal from a distance, his mind undressing her slowly for a bit and then hurriedly ripping her clothes off for a tad. It would be rather embarrassing if someone else came by or asked him to get up and join a conversation, his shalwar would not hold in the hard erection he was sporting. Seeing that he had an opportunity he slipped behind some bushes that gave him privacy and pulled out his penis. A hand job would have to suffice for now, and did! Using a handkerchief to clean himself off, and comforted that his dick had retracted to its more conventional form, Haqnawaz stepped back into the gathering and began to look for other company. Yet his brain had the image of Payal imprinted all over it.
Almost running into his brother, he had a passing fit of jealousy on noticing that Shahnawaz was also riveted at the sight of the same girl. Now his younger brother had a chance at that beauty, Haqnawaz knew for sure. Shahnawaz was after all single and handsome. On the other hand, while blessed with business sense and money, he himself looked hideous. That would be enough for any girl to reject him. Furthermore, that gorgeous girl he was fantasizing about would be out of reach due to the simple fact that Haqnawaz had a wife and, equally ugly, child at home. Haqnawaz had an early marriage, so common amongst the rural elite, tying him to a woman he could hardly bear to fathom, due to both her acerbic tongue and her immense size, on account of creating feudal fiefdoms and joining two powerful families. It had been years since he had bedded her, in fact once the son was born, the sex had stopped. Haqnawaz had no intent of ever fucking his wife, Parveen, again, even someone as ugly as him had standards he had convinced himself. In any case her father was now dead, just a few years into the marriage, and he had taken over all the property as the husband of his only living child, a daughter, since her two brothers had been killed in a feud with other landowners. He knew that there was no danger of Parveen sullying her name with some outside dalliance while he ignored her, she was just not good looking at all and would not find any but the most desperate of mates.
II
As Payal stretched out nude under the covers of the bridal bed, post-coitus, Shahnawaz could not believe how lucky he had been to snare such a catch and how quickly things had sorted themselves out.
A call from his father, Mukhtar Hussein, to Chaudhry Raziq had been taken with the expected formality. The visit of the prospective groom's family had also gone without commitment. However, when Shahnawaz himself came over with his folks a couple of weeks later, the Chaudhry and Chaudhrani had been more than courteous. The engagement proceeded the very same day. The marriage took place just a month afterwards, just prior to the onset of Ramadan and the summer months that were to follow.
