Reham Khan has been in the news since the story of her wedding to Imran Khan broke out. Her behaviour has since bemused and often flabbergasted people. The wedding, unfortunately, did not last long and ended as abruptly as it had begun. The recent storm about her unpublished book is a continuation of the saga. People in Pakistan care much more for how things look than how things are. A fair complexion, rounded face, and a ready-made smile are enough to pronounce anyone beautiful. Reham had the added advantage of being single, attention-seeking, anglicized, and working in the media to reinforce the stereotype. Her work, nonetheless, betrayed that she was insubstantial and had no insight into it. She seemed to have met her match. Marriages break down. Having tied the knot before, Reham and Imran were no strangers to this reality. They knew that like some wines, certain relationships can neither mature nor travel. Imran was hurt, but ring-fenced his disenchantment by putting up a wall of nonchalant indifference. Reham was stunned. She did not know how to be rational, as she had planned this project for life. She felt like a paper towel, which was used and thrown away. It was a painful goodbye because things were left unsaid and unexplained. Betrayal is too soft a word to describe the position Reham found herself in. It is one thing to think you’re worthless, and quite another to be made to feel so by another person Betrayal is too soft a word to describe the position Reham found herself in. It is one thing to think you’re worthless, and quite another to be made to feel so by another person. No matter how loud she cried, she could not stop or change what had happened. The bitterness felt like taking a poison and waiting for the other person to die. No matter what she did, the pain was here to stay. The pain could only be endured if it was embraced and responded with righteous anger, and a refusal to be intimidated. Somewhere between love and hate lie other flutters: slipup, misinterpretation and hope. She reflected that she could benefit from acknowledging the anger by acting out in profitable ways instead of blaming herself, or allowing Imran to blame her. Instead of giving into keeping the peace, it would be healthful for her to stand up for her needs and aspirations. She could never hurt him enough to make his betrayal stop hurting her. Sometimes, hate is the only real thing in the world for you. You can stop loving someone, but hate seems to go on forever. People also appreciate hate, because it communicates, and vibrates. Whereas love is blind, hatred can see. Aristotle thought that anger was one of the most complex and distinctive of the human emotions, which ought to be felt and acted upon in right modes. Research has since proved that aggressively expressing anger doesn’t relieve but augments it. Every written and spoken word on the issue was an insult like a lightning bolt; a burning acid swallowing her knotted viscera. She was planning a press conference when she met Imran’s emissary bearing gifts. She decided to leash the anger on purpose, to unleash it when required later. Women had come and gone in his life, but Imran was faced with a mortal mind bent upon destroying his smug arrogance this time. She knew that confronting the enemy in anger feeds the ego, but diminishes one’s chance of success. Freud noted that a thing which is not understood inevitably reappears; like a ghost, it cannot rest until the mystery is resolved and the spell is broken. If you do not earn regularly, the money eventually runs out. By the time her bluff was called on the Blackberry, she was finding it hard to hold her head high while trying to breathe from her own contamination. But anger is like a battery that leaks acid, the stark nakedness and simplicity of the conflict in her daily life (of getting angry with and wishing to hurt the person most loved) had to come out. She had been enjoying her hatred so much more than she ever enjoyed their love. If you hate someone, you hate something in that person which is part of yourself. One of the reasons you cling to that hate is because you sense, once hate is gone, you will be forced to deal with pain. The pain of the reality that people who love themselves, don’t hurt other people. The more we hate ourselves, the more we want others to suffer. At the heart of all anger and resentment, is the fear that hopes to stay anonymous. It is her fear of survival without; not emotional, but ongoing material support. It makes you desperate to entrap, suffocate and hurt others and eventually yourself. The real origin of your anger is from both: ego defending its territory, and a desperate desire to sustain your own well-being. Reham Khan will go down in history as a woman with big ambitions. She could not know any way to live other than through extremes, because her emotional thermostat seems broken. She is trying to derail Imran’s political campaign by seeking payback through a book full of innuendo, tittle-tattle and creative intimate details. The writer is a Consultant Psychiatrist and Visiting Professor. He tweets @AamerSarfraz Published in Daily Times, June 14th 2018.