Recently, an event caught the media flair once again. Any guesses? Nope, you are wrong. It was the Mrs. Khan and Mr. Khan split once again. The incident was able to garner as much interest as it did when they got married nearly 10 months ago. A happy Imran was beaming in a champagne coloured sherwani and Reham was beaming in some colour too; sorry, I do not remember the colour of her clothes. Whilst they were married, a few tweets and facebook statuses revealed the love shared between the couple. Reham was portrayed as the ideal bhabi on some articles too. Suddenly, the split happened. Even sooner, speculations were being made about their breakup. An uncle, who came down to visit my family after 10 months, claimed that Reham was hired by a secret agency (I cannot name it here) and tried to poison Imran Khan. This led me to set foot in a library, and I was shocked to find out the background story to this in books.
Reham’s career was taking a downhill toll, which often led to bouts of depression in her. However, the curtains were opening to a new show; the scene starting on a bright Sunday morning. She was strolling through the corridor awaiting a visitor. Finally, the doorbell rang spurting the adrenaline rush within Reham. She left the door ajar, and walking through the door was a black man clad in black sunglasses and a black suit. He got straight to business, “You are going to be made an offer that cannot be refused”. Over the span of a few hours, the plan was outlined. Although Reham was nervous, she was also stoic about the plan at the same time. It was going to save her career.
Hence, it did not come as a surprise that Imran had announced to get married the second time in the New Pakistan during Azadi March at an old age, and CVs of potential wives were being thrown around. A few girls, including Zoya and Meera, expressed interest in Imran, after all the hunky, charismatic politician was and still is the most eligible bachelor of his time. Why did Imran choose the girl he chose then? A few hours before a critical interview, a love portion was brewed and mixed into his evening milk. Rest was history. Reham entered the little space occupied by Imran Khan and posed questions in the most feminine voice she could possibly conjure. In no time, Imran had fallen head over heels for her. Before he went to bed that night, he was stormed with thoughts of her. Clad in an elegant blue dress; Reham made her way through the space with carefully measured footsteps wearing that soft smile of hers. After she positioned herself, the soft manner in which she said Assalam-o-alaikum was the gentlest one he had ever heard.
Next thing, they know was that they were getting married. Now, Reham had the surety that her career is not going to crash. The high profile politician could get her a job anywhere, whether it is Ary digital or Aaj tv. Even if the career did not work out, she could always find her way through spending time in and caring for the Bani gala mansion. Her instable career started to procure more stability. However, was this the mission she was supposed to complete? What about the guy with the black glass and the black suit? Just after 10 months, a dream dawned upon Reham Khan. In no time, she was relieved to be back from the nightmare, which she had perceived to be the reality. Sweat trickled down her face.
Next morning was yet like any other morning, except for the fact that Reham was taking an unparalleled interest in activities she previously was not taking off. However, her exuberance emanated from her very being, whether it was when she was dancing to the tunes of her own film or when she was crooning the songs of her film. This seemed particularly peculiar to Imran. No wonder he was suspicious when his day’s milk was brought for him by his own beloved wife. On any other day, Imran would chug it, but not on this day. After he took a sip, he went for his run. However, during the run, he started to run out of breath sooner than he would have ever imagined and took to sauntering around the premises. At the very moment lying outside the boundary walls of the mansion was the man in the black suit and the black sunglasses; his eyes caught in an unending peek at the overcast sky. The glass of milk was half empty too.