Sirens screaming, lights flashing, cops jumping out of their cars … what’s going on, we ask each other as we assemble outside our homes one lovely spring morning. Fumes of gasoline cover the courtyard where we stand and watch. “Fire!” shouts someone. “No smoke!” says another.

The thick smell is coming from a neighbour’s garage. Having failed to pry open the electronic garage door, two beefy cops shatter a glass door and enter the home. Minutes hang heavy. There’s no sign of the elderly couple inside. Soon, we see the garage door opening. The husband’s car is there. Where is he? Where is she? Meanwhile, more police cars arrive, but no one is saying what’s going on. “Does anyone know where Mrs Williams would be at this time?” a police sergeant approaches us. We shake our heads. “Maybe she’s playing golf” while pointing towards the golf course bordering our development. She’s a keen golfer. “Or perhaps she’s at the shore where her daughter lives with her dog,” chimes in Williams’ immediate neighbour. “But I don’t have their cell phone numbers.”

It’s a cliffhanger: Diana Williams is missing; her husband Harvey’s whereabouts are a puzzle. Hours pass. We hang around. The bright yellow police tape tells us not to get close to the ‘crime scene’. Suddenly a stretcher heads to the open garage. Some time later, a body covered in white is wheeled out to the waiting ambulance. “Is Harvey dead?” we wonder. His parked car is driven away by one of the policemen.

That evening, I anxiously look to see if the lights are on in the William household. Ghostly shadows haunt their home. The next evening Diana is seen moving around in her kitchen. She does not look the part of a grieving widow. And thereby starts my tale about couples married, unhappily, forever. Hours before Harvey sat in his car and started the engine with the garage door closed, we could hear the couple arguing, swearing and shouting at each other. Their fights were a routine. He was very nasty to Diana. Later that fateful night, Diana must have walked out of her home and taken refuge with her daughter at the shore. Today the ‘merry widow’ looks as happy as a lark, glad to be rid of her husband of 40 years who gave her nothing but grief.

Marriages are not always made in heaven

With Harvey’s suicide behind us, a new storyline emerges. There is this nice old man who always smiles and waves in our development. He drives luxury cars. His wife, younger to him in years, is the snotty kind, very pretty though. Ever heard of Italian mobsters still being around? Well, it turns out this nice old man was in the mafia and was a big time extortionist. The godfather is currently in jail and so is this nice old man! His wife, meanwhile, is busy renovating their home. Gossip has it that with the old hubby now safely behind bars, she is getting the house ready for her new husband! Divorce papers have been filed. A close friend of her’s tells us that she was a gold digger who married the nice old man for his pots of money. “She never loved him or cared for him,” the friend says. “Why should she not enjoy a life partner that fits her bill?” Good for her, one can say. So we may soon see a brand new husband one of these days — you know, the hot-blooded muscle man.

Our very own Imran Khan has had super bad luck with two beautiful women who said they loved him. Jemima Khan sulked when living in Pakistan. She never adjusted. Despite two wonderful sons, the couple parted amicably, going their different ways. Jemima dated many men including the famous film star Hugh Grant. But to this day, she remains single, probably still in love with Imran. What’s this black magic stuff that the divorced Reham Khan is peddling? Scandals, mega scandals of the 10-month-old marriage between Imran and Reham — from poisoning attempts to domestic violence (Imran being the alleged victim), family feuds, step-motherly treatment of Imran’s boys and even banning Imran’s dogs from their bedroom have done their rounds and now petered out. Except, the ‘woman scorned’ is not willing to walk out in the sunset or shall we say begin anew? Soon Reham may disclose the name of the man or woman who has done black magic on the marriage: “The Quran states that the fundamental reason why Iblees taught people black magic was in order to cause separation between husband and wife,” is her ridiculous tweet. A kiss and tell book will be the next thing we’ll hear about, authored by Reham, oozing out salacious details to put a chic spin on life with the Khan.

Let’s talk about a pretty young Pakistani wife who has undergone this “amputation” which otherwise is called a divorce. Interviewed by a friend of mine in a city in America, the frank conversation was an eye-opener. It has a tragic ending. Married to a doctor, the young woman whom we’ll call X arrived in the US with dreams of spending the rest of her life with her Romeo. When a baby girl arrived on the scene, X’s dreams turned into a nightmare. “After the initial thrill of lovemaking waned and I was pregnant, his attitude changed. I was made to feel like a burden,” says X whose marriage turned into shouting bouts interspersed with abusive language. “He began to suspect me of infidelity and ordered me to stay in the house.” During this time, X’s mother came for a visit. One night she was told to get out. When X protested, the husband kicked out both the women along with the infant. Divorce followed. Today, she lives alone with her daughter. “I am like damaged goods. No one wants to marry me.”

The moral of the story: marriages are not made in heaven, nor do they guarantee couples to be true to each other in “good times and in bad, in sickness and in health”, nor can couples promise to “love, honour and obey” each other for all the days of their lives.

Published in Dawn, Sunday Magazine November 22nd, 2015