Typhoon by Qaisra Shahraz Page A

audacity to ape it or know how to.
    Kaniz swept round and caught Kulsoom’s look of admiration. Proud of her crowning glory, she took immense delight in the awed wonder on Kulsoom’s face. Miraculously, Kaniz smiled, the curly tendrils of wet hair around her face making her look even more beautiful. Kulsoom’s own face lit up with an answering smile, spreading wide apart the two narrow grooves lining her mouth on either side.
    ‘What can we do for you, Kulsoom Jee?’ Kaniz asked pleasantly. For some reason, she found she wanted to humour this small, overweight woman today, with her bony arms strewn with dozens of garishly coloured glass bangles.
    ‘We … we …’ Blushing, Kulsoom stammered. Then, not quite knowing how to begin, she switched to look at Sabra. ‘We came to pay our respects to Sister Sabra and to see how she is,’ she said. She wasn’t quite ready to part with the scandalous news yet. Kulsoom hated her nervous stammer. Her cheeks, now a dark shade of red, sent the heat to automatically spiral down to her thin, pleated throat. Kulsoom never lost her cool anywhere or with anyone. That is, apart from when she was in Chaudharani Kaniz’s presence. This morning had turned out to be the worst occasion.
    ‘Thank you, Kulsoom Jee, but isn’t it a bit early in the morning for social calls?’ Kaniz cruelly quipped, now in a devilish mood. She didn’t want to spare Kulsoom for disturbing her conversation with her sister.
    Colour flooded high into Kulsoom’s brown,
chaeei
-pigmented cheeks, making the dark patches appeareven darker. ‘Yes, it is quite early. I hope we haven’t disturbed you,’ she muttered miserably.
    ‘Never mind. Now that you are here, what can we do for you?’ Kaniz said in her dry, businesslike tone, losing interest in them and wanting to usher them both out of her home as soon as she possibly could.
    Dismayed, and interpreting Kaniz’s action and words accurately, Kulsoom decided to dispense immediately with any further chit-chat and social meandering.
    ‘Have you heard about Fatima’s niece and Haroon?’ The loaded question was dropped in a hushed tone.
    As both sisters stared back blankly, waves of pleasure surged through Kulsoom, cooling her cheeks. She congratulated herself on her luck and the ace she held in her hand.
    ‘I can gather from your expressions that you know nothing about what happened here in the village last night.’ No stammering now. The confident tone was back and with a vengeance. Her small dark eyes twinkled. It was Kulsoom’s moment of glory in Kaniz’s company.
    Kaniz good-humouredly shook her head, wondering what bombshell Kulsoom could possibly be hugging to her chest to bring that mischievous look to her face.
    Her eyes widening for effect, Kulsoom decided to drop her bombshell. Not wanting to jeopardise the success of her mission by superfluous innuendoes, she went straight to the point.
    ‘Last night, Fatima’s niece, Naghmana, the one who has come here in that grand car, was found in the arms of our Haroon – Gulshan’s husband. Can you believe it?’ she threw triumphantly at the landlady of the village.
    Hungrily she swallowed the stunned look on both the sisters’ faces. Her triumph knew no bounds. She had carved a deep notch on the village social ladder. Even the almighty Chaudharani Kaniz’s cool exterior was ruffled.
    ‘Every single, panting breath, on all those slippery marble stairs was worth it,’ Kulsoom thought happily, congratulating herself yet again.
    There was no disdain in the Chaudharani’s eyes now. Indeed, both sisters were eagerly waiting for more. Kulsoom quickly satisfied their curiosity. Wisdom dictated that it wasn’t worth pushing her luck by playing around with Chaudharani Kaniz and her patience. The woman was well-known for being very cruel when the fancy took her. She, Kulsoom, on the other hand, wished to remain very much in the landlady’s good books. Therefore, she had decided that it would be in her