Book review — Society Girl: A Tale of Sex, Lies and Scandal revisits one of Pakistan’s most intriguing cold cases
Reality is often stranger than fiction and that could not have been any truer than on a fateful 1970 October day in Karachi when a tsunami of scandal and intrigue swept across Pakistan. A renowned poet and civil servant found dead in his bed; a woman in her late twenties found unconscious on the floor in an adjoining room.
A Romeo and Juliet style suicide pact, or perhaps a murder most foul? Whispers, multiple theories, passionate murmurs and the portrait of a woman condemned as a Jezebel. Memories of a fall day that still stir excited conversation.
Fifty-four years later, the case has been resurrected by journalists Saba Imtiaz and Tooba Masood Khan in their captivating deep dive titled Society Girl: A Tale of Sex, Lies and Scandal.
Society Girl: A Tale of Sex, Lies and Scandal is not only a compelling true crime narrative but also an exposé on the not-so-secret lives of the Pakistani elite. Suave suited men rattling off stanzas of poetry, perhaps written by their friends, accompanied by their wives draped in hipster saris, their hair styled in the bouffant Farah Diba way. The distant sounds of clinking glasses at the Metropole’s Samar bar and legacy Sind Club memberships.
It was these circles and cocktail parties that 40-year-old Mustafa Zaidi and the young woman in question, Shahnaz Gul, frequented. Having poured through archives, sourced direct quotes from people around during that time and salvaged poetry, Imtiaz and Khan have captured the flurry of emotions, media frenzy and the court of public opinion that encompassed the handling of the case in the early 70s.
Through hazy memories and the events that occurred in the days leading up to the incident lies a truth that is still shrouded in mystery. Zaidi and Gul were discovered on the morning of October 13 by close acquaintances and Gul’s husband, Saleem. Zaidi was dead on his bed, the phone off the receiver and its cord across his body. Blood trailed from his nose and mouth, and he was wearing what friends described as an unfamiliar blue shirt. Gul, who was found on the floor in the adjoining room, was unconscious.
A doctor arrived at the scene and declared she was in a “stuporous condition,” which meant she was either in an early stage of unconsciousness or was “coming out of it”. She was taken to the Jinnah Postgraduate Medical Centre for observation and other medical formalities. Soon, a photograph of her lying on a hospital bed would be taken by a photojournalist and published in the Jang newspaper.
Society Girl is not just an enthralling retelling of a cold case but a fascinating study of media sensationalism. Titillating gossip makes good headlines, or so it seems by the way the Pakistani media shared every intimate detail of Zaidi and Gul’s tumultuous relationship. Sex sells — that is as true today as it was in 1970 — and so media outlets were preoccupied in stamping Gul’s photograph on their front pages, sidelining major events that would forever change Pakistan’s trajectory.
All the attention was focused on vice and questions of morality that shrouded the case, ignoring the major developments and incidents taking place in what was then East Pakistan, which led to the creation of Bangladesh.
To say that Gul and her husband Saleem were hounded by journalists would be an understatement — their every move was scrutinised. Flipping through pages of Society Girl, one can almost experience the suffocation brought on by what can only be described as stalker-like behaviour by the media. Zaidi’s sonnets on Gul, written in both Roman Urdu and translated to English, have brought to life his feelings and what may have been his frame of mind while penning them.
Society Girl also delves into mental health conditions, exploring Zaidi’s state of mind in the days and even months leading up to his death. How he was betrayed by the political system and, perhaps, a shrinking literary space. Did he still yearn for the pre-Partition days back in Allahabad? Was he feeling trapped having been forced to stay in Pakistan while his wife and children were in Germany?
The book is also a cautionary tale on obsession and how it can sway people into going to great lengths to get — or intimidate — the object of their desire.
Each page unravels a new layer of depth. Overall it is a look at Pakistani society, patriarchy and double standards. How a man having indulged in an affair can be celebrated while a woman bears the onus of responsibility. Paraded in courts on charges surprisingly not of adultery, even though news outlets spared no details of the sordid affair, Gul captured and continues to capture the imagination and disapproval of Pakistanis.
She was put on trial for smuggling and murder, though there was never anything conclusive that proved she intended to kill Zaidi. In fact, per her testimony, she had gone to his home to stop him from committing suicide. What is true is that she was found unconscious but what really transpired is still a mystery and subject of numerous theories.
A walk down memory lane for some, and an exposure of a vastly different country to most, Society Girl is a record of how decisive the 70s were for Pakistan and how the country changed politically as well as socially and physically.
Society Girl is a gripping historic look at the lives, politics and scandals of the Pakistani upper crust, as well as media priorities amid political turmoil.
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