The camel rider turned out to be my mother. She looked much older and tired but I was relaxed as she was fine. She was glad to see me too. I spent the night in my home with my mother after a long time. She slept most of the night whereas I kept planning for the future. Early morning, I went out and bought a camel from Wadera Rustam. Annoyed on waking up so early, he eventually got delighted to see the money and did not ask many questions.

I want to buy your best camel, I said in a casual tone.

He looked at me from head to toe and said, “Do you have money?”

I showed him the notes and his sleepy eyes got wide open. He took me to his backyard. There were about twenty camels sitting there and still enjoying early morning breeze.

“Select the camel yourself. You can buy two camels with this money,” Wadera said with his eyes sparkling with greed.

I knew I could get four camels with hundred rupees if I wait for the market to open in the adjoining town but I did not have time for that. So, I only selected one camel and gave him fifty rupees. He kept looking at the other note but I hurriedly departed from the back gate.

I reached Bahawalpur with my mother by noon, sold the camel for twenty rupees and went to the railway station. I bought two first-class tickets to Lahore and went to a restaurant to eat and freshen up. My mother was a simple village woman who had spent all of her life either in her village or in the Noor Palace. She had never seen the outside world. She looked around with amusement but did not even ask me where we were going. She had a realization as to how the events unfolded and she was perhaps embarrassed for not having told me about my real father. I did not bring up the topic either as there was no point of discussing the issue any further. I now knew the reality and that was enough. Our train to Lahore was to arrive at 5 pm. We still had some time so we went to the waiting room.

The train as usual was late. We reached Lahore next morning. I had slept during most of the journey and was fresh when we stepped out of the train. I was holding my mother’s arm with one hand and carrying a bag in the other. I also had the diamonds sewed in the secret pocket of my dress. I was not worried about them. I just did not want to lose my mother again. We sailed through the ocean of people and left the station to a relatively peaceful area.

I spotted a lone tonga and asked if he could take us to the address Hakeem gave me. After much thinking and deliberation, the tonga wala eventually agreed to take us there for not less than five rupees. We were new to the big city and he knew that too. I helped my mother climb up the ride and then hopped on the front seat. The horse ride continued for for almost an hour and the tanga wala kept telling us the stories about the historical places we passed through. Most of the monuments belonged to Mughal era.

All the roads and the places looked complex initially but soon I became familiar with them. I was to spend a big chunk of my coming life there. Lahore was to become my second home.

Throughout the journey I kept praying about Hakeem not betraying me and he had not. We reached the given address. I paid the tonga wala and knocked on the door of a big house. There was no response for some time. I was about to knock again when Hakeem appeared from adjoining house. He opened his arms and ran towards me. We met like long lost friends although we had separated only four days ago in Fazilka. He took me and my mother to the house.

“You were knocking on the wrong door,” he. Informed me.

“Thank God, you are here,” I said taking a deep breath.

He took mother to a room and introduced her to the ladies.

“Were you expecting me to run away with your money?” he asked sitting down with me.

I remained quiet.

“I could have done so easily. I could have given you a fake address and I could have even returned back from Fazilka to my village and taken out all your gold and disappeared for good. But how would have I faced you in the afterlife. I am not a religious man but I have strong faith in Allah. I believe that you ripe what you sow. I have never been married now but you are a son I always wished for. I did not want to disappoint you,” he said making me feel embarrassed of having negative thoughts about Hakeem. He was a true gentleman.

We spent next few days finding a good place to establish ourselves in Lahore. Luckily, there were far too many places for sale as most of the Hindu community was migrating from the city. We selected a big haveli having its entrances on multiple sides in the area of Garhi Shahu. It was an old building but was kept in a very good condition by its Hindu owner. The area was near railway station and I had purposefully selected it as I had planned to travel a lot in the future. We did not pay the owner as per his demand but we gave him far more than the prevalent market price in those circumstances. I named it Ayesha Manzil after my mother’s name. Hakeem shifted his relatives to the haveli after discussing it with me. They were to take care of my mother in addition to looking after the haveli. Hakeem also established his experimental laboratory in the storage shed behind the main building. After settling down everything, we planned to go to Hakeem’s village and get the buried gold.

The year of independence had begun and so had started the tales of horror, shock and dreadfulness. The roads and railway tracks leading to Lahore from border area were filled with dead bodies of young and old alike. Hindu and Sikh mobs were sparing nobody. Neighbours who had lived together for ages had turned into blood thirty hounds. No one could imagine that human life would become so cheap. Stories we heard from those who reached into the newly formed state were horrendous. We were very close to railway station so we also established a relief camp for the refugees in Ayesha Manzil. We provided them food and shelter till government set up its main refugee camp. More than 15 million people were displaced and more than a million were killed. It was a huge task for the government to look after these people.

Under these circumstances going back to Hakeem’s village seemed like a distant possibility. We sat and discussed it over several times. There was too much at stake here. Our lives were priceless but what we left behind can solve our many problems for the rest of our lives. Hakeem then gave the final verdict that I should stay back and look after Ayesha Manzil and he would go and get the gold. I protested as I wanted to accompany him. We had his relatives who could have taken care of my mother and few refugee families we were sheltering but he insisted on going alone. He did not want to risk my life but his life was precious too. Seeing our predicament and constant discussion, one of his relative offered to go with him. He was a distant cousin of Hakeem. He did not know why we want to go back but he would have guessed that it must be something more valuable than our lives. His name was Faizan and he was about 30 years of age. His wife and four children lived in Ayesha Manzil with us. It seemed like a suitable plan so I let both of them depart together on a train to Fazilka from Lahore railway station. I was sad by letting Hakeem go back to the hell. I bid him good bye and wished him all the luck.

It was my fourth month in Lahore when I thought of going to Shahzadi’s village. I did not venture out before as I had all the plans to bring her back with me. I, therefore, needed to establish myself here before I go out on any such task. Hakeem and his cousin Faizan had left for Fazilka one week ago. I wanted to wait for them before I open some other pandora box. I had told my mother about Shahzadi and how her parents were killed because of me. I also told her that I have taken her revenge by killing Kamal Khan who had poisoned her parents. She supported my plan of bringing her here and was fascinated with the idea of marrying her with me. I intentionally did not tell her about Saman as I had no knowledge as to where she was. I only knew that Saman and her brother Shakoor had left Jaipur and probably had gone to Karachi where some of their relatives worked on the port. It would be a wild goose chase if I pursued to find Saman but I will find her eventually as she has an important part to play in my life. We can’t stop things from happening if they are written in our destiny and Saman was one such thing.

Time was passing by and there was no news from Hakeem’s side. It was only after three weeks that Faizan walked into Ayesha Manzil. He was in a terrible shape. His clothes were stained with blood and he was exhausted.

“We reached the Hakeem’s village safe and sound. The village was deserted and most of the houses were burnt. There were dead bodies all around. We made their way to Hakeem’s house only to find out that the gold was gone. There was a freshly dug out hole under the tree. We decided to stay the night there and while we were cooking food at night, some people attacked the house. Initially, they pelted stones but then they barged in. I asked Hakeem to run away but he insisted on facing the mob. I did not stay there and ran away by climbing onto the neighbor’s house. In the morning, I returned and found Hakeem’s mutilated dead body. I recognized him from his clothes. I buried him under the tree and made my way to Lahore somehow,” Faizan said narrating me the whole story in bits and pieces.

I was heartbroken on the news of Hakeem’s death. He died in his efforts to make my dreams fulfilled. He would still be alive had not I allowed him to go. It all seemed my fault and I was guilt ridden. I couldn’t sleep at night.

Next morning, I came out of the room only to find out that Faizan was missing along with his family. Something was not right. Suddenly, I started seeing loopholes in the story told by Faizan. It was a little too late to realize that not me but Hakeem was betrayed by his own cousin. I felt enraged. I had to find Faizan and take revenge of Hakeem and get my gold back. I was also thinking that my search for Shahzadi was getting delayed. I had to make a quick decision.