The Emerald Love

With trembling hands Noor started reading and translating, everyone in the room was holding their breath.

2nd November 1934, Lucknow

Yesterday evening I performed at the birthday celebration of a wealthy merchant Seth Raamdas, at his grand mansion. Many people came and also few British officers. I sang Raag Yaman and danced until it was dawn. A usual day in a courtesan's life, but I remember the junior British officer Mr. Wilson. It felt as if he was piercing through my layers of shining jewels and silk dress, my fragrant bosom and my kohl adorned eyes....but not like a wealthy hawk. I shall call him a dove. Blue Eyed British Dove! I don't know if Wilson enjoyed me more or I enjoyed his innocent foray into the alleys of charm and seduction! Looks like he has never seen a courtesan before, or maybe I am more precious than others…Zeenat Jaan living up to her fame. Just like mother wanted me to be.

I don't know if Wilson can afford my company and if mother will allow me to entertain a patron who is not among the highest ranks. When I finished the dance and I was right next to him, I heard him say to another man, "Beauty is ephemeral but essential…" he speaks broken Hindi which is sweet to my ears. I wish I see him again. Senior British officers are often too snobbish and boring. Wilson is unspoiled, just like I was..…once upon a time!

15th March 1935 , Hyderabad

I hated it when mother brought me here for a month long stay. Old Nawab’s son is getting married and Zeenat Jaan has to entertain the glorious guests. I was not in a mood to travel, but mother said it will be a lot of money and we might find new patrons as well. But, now my heart cant wait to sing and dance. Wilson is posted here. I saw him today. Love is an adventure isn't it? After Somdev left for Burma I have never felt such passion. I know a courtesan's love doesn't end in a 'happily ever after' but living through the countless nights of entertaining gatherings of strange men, all I ask for is a sense of friendship, will my wish be granted? Is Wilson my illusion? What if he is not what I think? I feel scared but…

18th March 1935 , Hyderabad

It was 8 PM and we met in the balcony at the backside of my room. Wilson got the note I had sent him through my maid.

"I don't know what to speak…Ms. Zeenat" Wilson said in a soft whisper. I couldn't stop myself from breaking into a laughter.

"No Ms. Zeenat, call me Jaan (dear). You know what it means, right?" I placed my hand on his chest and looked at his blue eyes that I had dreamed of, for many nights.

"I am not a wealthy British officer to be your patron…" He placed his hand on mine and though he said what he said, he pulled me closer. The thick vine in the balcony gave us a shelter to hide. My heart was racing but I savored his presence in every breath.

"Can I have you as a friend and a lover, Wilson Saheb (Sir)? I have yearned for a meaningful soothing gaze….to the ocean of my heart, you seem to be the full moon, pulling me higher into a strange bliss."

"Where the numerous Indian Lords have failed, do I stand a chance?" he said softly.

"Its not in the ranks or culture or wealth that one finds true meaning, I know I will live and die like a courtesan maybe broken and lonely in the end. Don't get me wrong...I love what I do, music and dance is my very breath but I yearn for love and I’ve found that in you…" I placed my head on his chest, my face soaked in his scent.

Wilson kissed me for what seemed like eternity. He left placing a bottle of perfume in my hands. I am thankful he knows Hindi and I can talk to him. Why do I like him? He's an enemy, his Queen rules my country, there are countless people fighting for freedom and here I am. But Wilson is a man with a pure heart. He's not cruel like others, I saw him helping a poor old woman in the street the other day, he silently handed her some money while no one was watching. I trust him. I shall cherish his love as long as it can last. I know it will end one day sooner or later…

25th March 1935 , Hyderabad

After the wedding, Wilson asked Nawab Saheb that he is writing a memoir about the city of Lucknow and would like to see me for a few days to fill in some details. Permission was granted. When he told me about this trick to meet me, I kissed him seven times! Oh my Blue Eyed Dove, he is so precious.

"We will be leaving soon, will you meet me everyday?" I asked Wilson. It was twilight and taking advantage of the dark he held my hand as we walked in the garden.

"I will see you whenever I can. Jaan, do you realize that this will be over one day? I might be sent to Lahore or back to London."

"I know Wilson, and I am prepared. I am a courtesan don't forget. Nothing is certain, nothing is permanent. But we shall always remember each other. How is your mother in London? You mentioned she was sick."

"Mother is fine now. A good doctor is treating her. Zeenat, I have a feeling that I might never see you once you go back." Wilson embraced me tightly and I wanted that moment to stay forever.

"Let it not be so soon. I want to spend a few more years with you…after that you find yourself a beautiful woman and marry her."

"Do you know how old I am?"

"Probably few years younger than me, Wilson Saheb…" I said and he kissed me.

"I don't know where my call of duty will take me. I love you Zeenat…"

"If you ever need me Wilson, I will be there." I couldn't speak anymore.

I have met him only six times but I feel I have known him forever and I shall always meet him again and again...maybe in other realms. Wilson left with a promise to come four days later. I am waiting.

15th April 1935 , Lucknow

Finally the wound of love is inflicted. Wilson is gone. My heart is bleeding but I knew this would be the end. Wilson took me to his friend's house in Hyderabad. I told mother I was going to the market to buy a few items.

We were so happy, Wilson loved me madly and my ecstasy knew no bounds. He cares for my heart, he listens to me and that's all that matters. He said, "Zeenat always remember that I am here for you. I might die in a war, I might survive, but my heart will always belong to you."

I rested my head on his bare chest and closed my eyes. "Yes, Wilson…Zeenat will never forget. I will pray for you everyday."

I cried and he cried too, I know he did. I cant go back, that moment is lost and Wilson I will never find you again.

But I can remember you in my poetry and music. I can dance in my longing for your blue eyes! My jewelry and silk dress are awaiting tonight's performance, but let me pour it out...

A riot had started while we made love. Some freedom fighters had burnt down the police station. Wilson stepped out, I followed him. I heard a bullet shot. I am glad I pushed Wilson that very instant and he fell down. The bullet hit the pillar, it could have killed him. There was fire and smoke all around. I heard noises and screams.

Wilson had to report. I don't know why I gave him my big emerald ring, I placed it in his pocket and waved him goodbye as he rode away on his horse. Did my heart knew I wont see him again? What made me drop that ring?

Few days later, I was told Wilson was injured on duty and was sent to Delhi for treatment. I don't know where he is now. I don't know if he will return to see me.

Wilson my heart remembers you every evening under the chandeliers of my wealthy patrons!

17th July 1936 , Delhi

Today, my heart skipped a beat when I came to know about Wilson. It was through another British Officer who happens to know him. He said Wilson lost an arm in the riots that evening. He was sent back to London few months later. I am glad to hear that he is alive and safe in his homeland. Even though he is away from me.

Mahatma Gandhi says we will attain freedom from British rule very soon. I see protest marches everyday. Mother doesn't know that I secretly donated money for the freedom movement. Am I a traitor for loving a British officer? I don't think so, Wilson was just doing his duty. Like any other solider. He is a good man, I know. I do want my country to be free from oppression. But I wish I could meet Wilson one more time…

Will new era of independence ruin my earnings from wealthy landlords and British officers? Maybe…who knows where the winds take the grains of sand! Its amusing I never dreamed of marrying Wilson, what kept me from even dreaming about it? I am a practical person I think, mother says courtesans have to be!

I pray for your well being Wilson….the flame of my love still burns for you.

12th October 2012 , Pennsylvania, USA

Noor closed the diary and looked at the black and white photograph of Mr. Wilson and Zeenat. At the backside was a note.

To my beloved Zeenat Jaan From your Wilson Saheb 29th March 1934

Wilson was a young man in that picture, 23 year old junior British officer. Slim face, robust body, thick hair and a light beard and mustache. And his eyes….indeed he was a good man, deep and truthful. Honest and duty bound.

"Maybe it was taken before the riots…" Mr. Todd said taking the picture from his assistant Noor's hand.

"I remember…" Sophie suddenly got up, Mr. Wilson's 62 year old daughter and only heir. Her husband Patrick was surprised, maybe a little upset too.

"I remember mother once told me, when Dad lost his job 5 years after their marriage. They sold a ring…an emerald ring and with that money they came here to the States and started the business! Mom never told me where that ring came from…"

Mr. Todd took a deep breath and said, "I am the executor of his will, and it says that besides his daughter Sophie…if any descendants of Zeenat Jaan are found, they should be given this box."

Sophie and Patrick looked at Noor, she was shivering with tears in her eyes.

Noor's grandmother had sent her the little black book four months back, weeks before she passed away. Busy with her law exams, Noor never read it but she had seen the picture. Her beloved grandma standing with a British officer in Pre Independence India. Today attending this Will execution with Mr. Todd, she had recognized Wilson Saheb from one of his early 20s picture that was kept above the fireplace.

Wiping her tears Noor opened the box.

For Zeenat Jaan who loved me, prayed for me, who saved me. She gave me a piece of her fortune and it brought me a new life... one more time.

Under the note was a $20,000 cheque and an emerald ring.