Komal's Transformation Ch. 02

"Radha, this is Asad ......." He paused, allowing the gravity of the situation to sink into Pawan. The frightened tailor was now in folded hands, silently begging the landlord not to go on with this torment and indicating that he was prepared to divulge the name.

Asad knew his ploy had worked and, diverting his attention to Pawan's wife on the phone, pretended that he was concerned about her health.

"..... Asad ...Asad .... Yes, yes, your husband's landlord. No, don't worry, he is fine. It's just that I came to his shop and heard that you are unwell. Kaisi ho bitiya (How are girl)?" He talked with Pawan's wife for two minutes before he cut off the call. But he still held Pawan's mobile in his big, hairy hands.

"So?" Asad looked at Pawan.

Flush in the face, and unable to look at his landlord Pawan leaked out what was an unwritten understanding between him and his ravishing client -- secrecy.

"Komal," he whispered, wishing he had not been heard and Asad would leave him alone.

"Ah! A pretty Hindu girl's name. Even Muslims have that beautiful name. It means soft and supple, doesn't it, Pawan?" He was getting to the details of that contact number on Pawan's phone, eager to find her cell phone number. The rest would fall in place gradually.

"Yessss! Got you lady," he was beaming in joy. Quickly, he had tapped Komal's number into the contact list of his own mobile phone.

Pawan had dreaded that this notorious womanizer would probably ring Komal from Pawan's own phone itself. But, he didn't. In fact, he didn't ring her at all at that moment but just kept back the phone in his pocket.

"I won't disclose your name, Pawan. She'll never know that I extracted this from you. So, you shouldn't tell her anything either, if you know what is good for you. And remember, no one, not one soul is to know that you and I had this small 'friendly' talk. If you listen to me, no harm will come to you. Otherwise ......." From assurance to threats, that's how these words ended.

Asad turned and left.

///\\\///\\\

It was past eight thirty in the evening. Returning home Komal had changed into a peach color three-quarter sleeve kameez, a maroon sharara salwar and a maroon chiffon dupatta that fell across her sharply pointed breasts. The kameez fitted her very nicely, emphasizing her curves perfectly just as much as much as it emphasized her flat waist.

Meeting Pawan early that evening, with the promise of a rendezvous soon, made Komal happy and content as she hummed a tune while she moved around the apartment.

Finally, she came and sat down on the couch, stretched her legs on to a low cushion, and started reading the unfinished 'The Silent Wife'. She awaited her husband's arrival, the timing of which she could never guess correctly.

Her android phone drew her attention. This was not Nishant, for the ringtone was different. It was someone unknown, from the sound of it. Komal stretched her hand and picked up the phone from the glass top centre piece. This was a stranger. Possibly, it could be a promotional call, ones that she had got tired of.

"Hello?" Her voice seemed irritated when she answered the call.

"Komal?" A cold, steely voice came floating from the other end.

She was careful with strangers, even though this one seemed to know her name.

"Wrong number!" Komal responded and hung up.

It took just a minute before her phone rang again. Same ringtone, same person. She let it ring for a while and into silence. But the caller was adamant. He rang again.

"Who is this?" Komal said out of exasperation.

"You don't know me Komal, but you will." Asad's voice was firm and unyielding.

"What nonsense!" Komal's didn't hide her irritation, "get off my line this instant." She was about to disconnect.

"No nonsense this, lady," Asad retorted, "and you'll do well to be on the line without hanging up......." Silence for a few moments before he spoke again, "Does he know?"

Komal's became tense, unable to comprehend the meaning of this question.

"Wh..what do you mean?" She asked.

"Does your husband know?" It was a cold, sinister and investigative voice.

"What? Wha ..what should he know?" Komal's courage was already ebbing.

"Why were you at the parking lot of New City Mall this evening?" This was no curious enquiry. It was something more ominous. Komal froze. She knew the secret of her misdemeanor had been breached.

"I had some work at the Mall and I had parked my car," Komal tried to sound convincing.

"Oh really! Work with the tailor I believe? A tailor whose shop is situated in a building, my building actually, almost a mile away?" Asad hammered in his questions.

"S ..So? I can park any where I like. I didn't find parking place elsewhere," Komal replied.

"To help the tailor walk that one mile? Hmmm, you try to convince but you fail miserably. Let me tell you lady, there's no iota of truth in what you say." Asad's rejoinder.

"It is true. Why don't you believe me?" Komal was about to cry.

"Because I happened to be there at the same spot. Very near to you and the man you were with .... Pawan, I think you know him?" Asad now went in for the kill.

"Noooo ... you are lying!" Komal broke down as Asad could make out that her voice was trembling.

"Komal, can you recollect the moment? When a headlight beamed into your car? The lights stayed on for a while, didn't they? Why do you think that happened?" Asad wanted to tell him more, convince her that denial will serve little purpose.

".... Amazing pictures these android phones capture! I have a few of you two ... in not too decent a position, believe me .... including a frame that captures your car number too, unfortunately. Just to help you recollect, while you two were smooching around inside, you heard the intruding car blow its horn twice, didn't you?"

"Why are you telling me this?" Komal was tearfully said, "Please, why are you doing this to me?"

"I'll tell you my reasons when we meet. Just remember ...you utter one word to your husband and he gets to see these pictures." Asad said seriously.

"I don't believe you. I don't think you have any evidence. I won't meet you," Komal gathered the last vestige of courage.

"Very well. I'll give you proof. I won't send these pics to your mobile now. But I'll send Sajida to your apartment tomorrow. She is a lady, so you needn't worry. She is well known to me and will tell you everything. You'll meet me ... oh yes! You will. Unless you decide on a break in your marriage to Nishant." Asad replied.

There was a pause in between.

"Oh! By the way, I know where you reside. Just as much as I know of your illicit relation with that timid Pawan. I'll warn you once again .... This will not be discussed with anyone. Do you understand, Komal?" Asad tormented.

There was silence. Komal was shrouded in a fear that made her mum.

"Komal?" Asad knocked on her silence. But she kept quiet.

"Very well Komal, I'll leave. Oh! did I tell you? You have the sweetest name that a woman can possess. I am already endeared to the softness of your name, Komal. You are as soft as your name." Asad switched off.

Komal looked at her phone after the call was disconnected. She still didn't know the name of the man who made this threatening call, or how he looked. She didn't know his purpose. She didn't know how foolproof his evidence was. She didn't know if Pawan had divulged anything by himself. but she was too scared to ask him now. All she knew was that she was helpless.

Sitting restlessly on the couch, the frightened Komal also knew that, for her own good and safety, she would have to meet this lady named Sajida and find out more about her own predicament. The tormenting man knew too much, and she would have to obey and do whatever he wanted so that her infidelity was not leaked to her husband.

///\\\///\\\

In the fading light the previous evening Asad hadn't been able to see Komal fully. Even the picture that he had taken, with his car headlight on, didn't really do justice to describe the beauty of the woman whom he had now targeted. But, these were enough to arouse a passion in Asad. He had many women in his life and usually never let a woman escape if he had a fancy for her. Something told Asad that this woman was special, someone he must have ... in every sense of that term.

The rich Muslim promoter lay on his bed, rolling restlessly for a while. He had stopped sleeping with his wife for many years now, ever since his children ran into their teens. And that was quite some time back.

Although he had an option of getting a second wife, he hadn't married again. May be, may be ...

He thought back on how he had gathered all the relevant information from that weak Pawan. He had squeaked for sure ... name, number, and even her address that he had quickly found in the tailor's bill book. Not that he couldn't get it otherwise .... he had enough contacts in the city's motor vehicles department to get hold of the address from the vehicle registration number.

Lying on bed, Asad recollected the phone call with this pretty woman. Komal's voice, when it was bold and haughty, or even when scared and nervous, were so sweet and melodious to hear. How soulful would that be when she whispered ardent words of love to him! Asad's passions were going out of control. He didn't want to defer what had usurped his mind.

It was late in the night when he stretched his hand and picked up his cell. He flicked through his contact list till he came to 'Sajida'. Sajida was well known to Asad, and she and her husband were close confidants in a 'murky' world that they shared.

Sajida was surprised to receive this call from someone whom she called 'Bhai Jaan' (Brother) so late at night. Even her husband Aquib looked at her in askance. Usually, late calls came when there was something urgent and important. She switched on the 'speaker' button for both husband and wife to hear.

Asad's voice carried the serious tone that was intended. He explained, in details, what had happened since that evening, not hiding that he was desperate for this Hindu woman named Komal. Sajida knew this man well enough to realise that he would be remorseless in his pursuit and would not stop till he accomplished what he set out to do.

"I want you to go to her house tomorrow. If need be, show her the picture of her and Pawan in passionate kisses. I'll send the picture to your mobile after I end this call. Convince her that it would be folly to mess around with a man like me. Tell her that first and foremost I want to meet her. I want to see her, Sajida ... I want to see her face to face, not in the dim lights, not outdoors, but right in front of me. Right here, in my office. I am dying to see her face more fully, just as Allah made her."

"But Bhai Jaan, what will others think if this married woman walks into your office? And you know that area and the building .... mostly Muslims occupy those floors. It would be too embarrassing for her too. And neither safe." Sajida tried to appeal.

"Very well, take a burqa along when you meet her tomorrow. Tell her to wear that and come. No one will see her, and she'll be safe in that way. I'll arrange for her protection. But she must come. Tell her that. I must have her, Sajida, believe me. I will have her, whatever that path is," Asad said in finality, but his voice was shaking in emotion as Komal's thoughts gripped his mind.

Aquib nodded to his wife. They knew that it would be erroneous to rake up the wrath of this powerful man.

"Yes Bhai Jaan, I'll meet her and try to convince her," Sajida said as silently directed by her husband.

"Not just convince her but ensure that she comes, I don't want to be refused," Asad said firmly.

By the time she hung up the phone, the intimate pictures of Pawan and Komal had arrived in her android. She looked at the snap and gaped at the beauty of the girl who was in the tailor's arms. Even Aquib whistled in appreciation.

"Your Bhai Jaan will have her Sajida, make no mistake. I just wonder to what extent he'll go. He seemed to be completely infatuated. I know what he means when he says he must have her," Aquib said with conviction.

"What do you mean?" Sajida was curious to know.

"I am worried to what extent he will go with her. I fear he'll take this right up to the nikah (marriage)." Aquib said seriously.

"But he can't! It's impossible. Unless she is converted! And what about her existing marriage?" Sajida stared at her husband in disbelief.

"If his hunger is what I apprehend it is, she'll be converted. I am sure of that. Asad will try to get her love and make her do it willingly. Otherwise ....," he let his words trail away to silence.

"Otherwise what?" Sajida pursued with her questions.

Aquib evaded that question but went on discussing about marriage.

"You asked about the existing marriage, isn't it? In his case, as you know, there's no problem. As a Muslim male, Asad can take another wife provided she is a Muslim, or she converts to being one. In her case, however, she cannot have two husbands," Aquib explained to her.

"But wouldn't conversion make her existing marriage void? Wouldn't she be free to marry Asad?" Sajida enquired. She seemed to wish that such a marriage took place.

"No Sajida, Indian law doesn't permit that, so she'll have to seek divorce. Will her husband ever agree? Give her a divorce I mean?" Aquib pondered aloud.

Sajida intervened, "Remember that she'll be able to marry a Muslim only if she has followed 'Iddah' or the waiting period, when she'll have to refrain from all sexual activity with her existing husband."

Aquib countered, "How can she have this 'waiting period' unless she discloses her intentions to her husband? Because, most certainly, he'll demand sex? And that would lead to divorce certainly. Very tricky situation, isn't it? But really Sajida, we shouldn't be giving such opinions. I am sure the Maulvi will decide on this."

"Yes. Why are we discussing these things, Aquib? We are quite content in our own marriage, isn't it? It's just Asad who'll decide on his own woman and whether he wants her as his wife. We can only guess what he will do," Sajida agreed. "But I can tell you this much -- Bhai Jaan will have sex with her, marriage or no marriage."

That night Aquib and Sajida had the most torrid sex in many days just talking and visualizing the sex scenes between the ravishing Hindu woman Komal and their infamous Muslim friend, Asad.

///\\\///\\\

Around Ten O'clock the next morning Sajida received a call from Asad again. Apparently, he couldn't keep his mind away from the thought of this woman and wanted to be assured that Sajida would undertake the task seriously.

"I have talked with her after her husband left for office this morning, Sajida. She's frightened like a timid kitten, so your work would be easy. And she'll be alone in the afternoon, with the maid gone. That's what she told me, wanting that you meet her when she is alone. Take the burqa with you without fail. I have told her to wear it when she comes to my place. If she refutes or rebels in any way, show her the damaging picture, she'll fall in line," Asad went on advising Sajida.

"Bhai Jaan. Don't worry so much. You'll get your Komal!" she giggled.

"Of course, she'll be mine. I must have her, I must. And you'll have a big part to play in that. Not just now but for what I have in mind involving her and me." Asad was adamantly saying.

Sajida was about to ask more but, on second thoughts, she didn't raise any more questions.

"I'll go in the afternoon," she said and hung up.

Sajida left for Komal's apartment after her lunch, not forgetting to take the burqa along with her. It took her more than an hour to reach the place even though her expert driver, Ahmed was behind the wheels.

Sajida was wearing a sky-blue embroidered salwar kameez straight suit and looked nice in this dress even at 38. However, it was with some nagging dread that she came and stood in front of Komal's apartment. Uneasily, she pressed the calling bell.

The woman who opened the door and stood in front of Sajida was remarkably beautiful and had an enviable figure to match. Sajida was not surprised that 'Bhai Jaan' had fallen for this strikingly pretty lady and would go to any pains to bed her, if not possess her permanently. But the face of the girl, despite the beauty that was carved in flesh, couldn't hide the lurking fear that lay behind her. Sajida felt sorry for her, although the biggest question that cropped up in her mind was how a woman of such rare beauty could fall for that nondescript tailor called Pawan.

"Komal?" Sajida asked politely and introduced herslelf, "I am Sajida."

"Yes, yes. Please come in." Komal said. The detestable man had told her the name of the woman who would call one her although he had not disclosed his own identity. She shut the door behind her softly, leading Sajida to the sitting enclosure and asking her to sit down comfortably. Her voice was shaking when she spoke.

"I ...I ...really don't kn..know who has sent you nor do I know his purpose in sending you." Komal said in a tremulous voice.

"May be if you sit down I'll be able to tell you," said Sajida.

"Would you like a glass of water? Cup of tea?" Komal asked, as any courteous host would. At this moment, however, she needed the water more than her guest, her lips and throat parched in discomfort.

When Sajida politely declined, Komal sat down opposite her.

"I understand how you feel Komal. All you should do is meet him once. He'll explain everything to you." Sajida tried to say soothingly, not wanting to be threatening to the docile and pretty host.

"He? Who's he? Do you realize I have no inkling of who this man is?" Komal asked softly.

"Oh! You don't even know his name? Oh Allah! Oh! my helpless girl! He is Asad.... Asad. A rich and influential man who has numerous properties in this city. He welds a lot of power, let me tell you," Sajida not really wanting to scare her.

"Asad? Asad? He's a Muslim?" Komal asked incredulously. She didn't know anyone by that name and was surprised that she got entangled in a situation where her actions would be levered by an unknown Muslim man. Deep within, she was enormously scared. And, in this situation, she would never have the support of her husband, because she would never be able to confide her indiscretions to this one man who could have helped.

"What if I don't meet him?" Komal tried to explore where she really stood. The truth behind the threats needed to be clear before she succumbed.

"In that event Komal, all that you have will be at stake. I know Asad. He's undeniably influential, filthily rich, a devious schemer, an unrepentant terror. He will spare no pain to get what he wants. You'll lose a comfortable life, husband, relatives .... Everything worth living for. You'll be out on the streets, literally doing what street girls do." Sajida said, this time seriously conveying the risks to which this girl was placing herself without hiding the man behind an artificial facade of goodness.

"But he's telling lies when he says he saw me in the parking lot. I don't believe him." Komal protested and tried to wriggle out again, as if to state that the man's words were mere concoction of falsehood.

It is then that Sajida picked up her mobile and, flicking the screen, turned to one that had Komal and Pawan in a compromising position, and kissing one another more passionately than one can imagine. And it was obvious that Komal had been taking the more active part in that ardent meeting of lips.

She held it in front of Komal's face.

"See for yourself Komal and decide," Sajida's voice was firm.

The shock and shame registered on Komal's face instantly. Her face was flushed as she hid her face within her hands.