Khuda Aur Mohaabat: English Novel!!. - Page 2

      CHAPTER 9

      THE FIRST PERIOD

At about seven in the morning, I was suddenly awakened by the sharp bells of the alarm clock. For a moment, I could not understand the exact nature of the noise. When I looked out of the window, I found that the skies of London were once again covered with white clouds that morning and perhaps, light drizzling was also going on. Then, I remembered that my regular classes were to start from that day and in order to attend the first period at nine, I must reach the subway by eight o' clock. The reason was that if I missed the 8-10 train, I would surely miss the first period which was to start at nine.

        Human nature is very strange indeed. If a certain restriction is imposed on man, gradually, he starts considering it to be a burden for himself. In ordinary conditions, even if I had got up after a whole sleepless night, I would not have disliked it so much as I disliked going to the University so early that morning. Kamran had already gone. With an unwilling heart, I had a shower of lukewarm water, gulped down a hot mug of coffee, changed my dress and went downstairs.

    You may go to any city, but everywhere you will feel that its mornings are quite different from and at times, much more pleasant than the rest of the day, because, it is the time when all the people wake up from their sleep and go about their daily business. Same was the case with London that morning. The female Spanish guitarist had just got down from the tram, carrying her usual guitar case. The freshness on her face and the slight drowsiness in her eyes had made her much more charming and attractive than before. By that time, we had become quite familiar with each other and she smiled as soon as she saw me. I brought out a few coins from my pocket but with a smile, she refused to take them. As I looked towards her in astonishment, she explained to me in her incoherent English that she got money from the people only after entertaining them with the tunes of her guitar. As she had not yet played any tune, she would not accept any money from me. I was much impressed by what she had said and made another attempt to give her the money. "The fact is that these are not today's coins. A couple of days ago, I stood at a distance and listened to your tunes for a long time. But then, I didn't have coins in my pocket to pay you. Take these coins now for that day."

    Hearing this, she smiled and got the coins from my hand. For the first time that morning, she told me that her name was Jenny and asked about my name. It was not so easy for her to repeat my name, which she pronounced as "Aamad."

I laughed at her pronunciation. Then I told her the shortened form of my name "Medi" which she happily repeated as "Signor Medi."

   I laughed and resumed my journey. By the time I reached the University, the light drizzling had assumed the form of rain. All the students were present in the class. Sir Isaac was to take the first period and as soon as he entered the class, all the students became silent. The only sound that could be heard at that time was that of the rain falling on the high glass windows and at times, this sound became almost musical. During the first period, sir Isaac talked about some important aspects of Economics. But I could understand only half of the lecture, because, for along time, I had been away from the books. Moreover, I was not fully attentive towards the lecture. While going through the time table sheet, I realized that one subject was completely new for me. It was called Humaneering. Its first lecture was to be delivered at 11-30 in Hall 7.

   I was surprised when sir Isaac clad in his black gown once again entered the class. It was revealed that this particular subject had been included in the course at sir Isaac's own request. The word Humaneering is made up of two words: human engineering. You may regard it as a study of the build up of human psychology.

   Sir Isaac was of the view that after receiving education from his university, the students should not only be able to make an excellent start in their own fields, but should also be mentally and psychologically strong enough to enforce their decisions in their respective departments. For this reason, he had decided that he himself would teach this particular subject during the course. The topic of the first lecture was "Too much wisdom is the other name of stupidity." Sir Isaac was of the view that while we are loving some people most intensely, we are unconsciously nourishing in ourselves a sort of irritation for them. But as long as we are in love with them, our feeling of helplessness and our fear of losing them, prevent us from expressing these opposite feelings in front of them. Sometimes, it so happens that our inward irritation intensifies and takes the form of strong hatred for them. As a result, whenever such relations of intense love break up, they are transformed into severe hatred. This hatred does not spring up all of a sudden. It is the essence of the negative feelings which we have been nourishing for a very long time.

   During that lecture, I realized that besides being an excellent economist, sir Isaac was also a good philosopher and intellectual.

   When the lecture was over, he invited the students to express their views on the topic. When it was my turn to speak I said, "The feelings may be of intense love or hatred. But in both the cases, they shatter the man. I personally believe that love is a more dangerous emotion than hatred and---.)

    Before I could complete my sentence, a golden haired girl sitting in front of me, turned and looked towards me in an angry and disdainful manner. "Some people are naturally inclined towards disagreeing with everything," she said and continued, "The elements of stubbornness and conceited non-compromise are deeply rooted in their training."

   I did not know that girl by name, but her roll-# was 22. From my very first day at the University, I had noticed that this girl along with four or five members of her group had been constantly satirizing and making fun of my religion and nationality, in one way or the other. Generally, I ignored their taunting remarks because, I did not wish to get involved in such irrelevant and useless things. But on that particular occasion, I lost control over myself and hit back. "I find this type of inferiority complex in those people who are apparently very proud of their training but in reality, somehow or the other, their inward ignorance is exposed."

   As soon as roll-# 22 heard these words, her face became red with rage. She turned around to answer me. But before she could speak, sir Isaac drew our attention towards himself by loudly beating the duster on the rostrum.

   "Please, please! Don't quarrel like that. Everyone has the right to disagree, but it should remain within the limits of morality. Miss Sarah Perez, meet me in my office after the lecture."

   In the meantime, the bell rang and the lecture was over, but by that time, I had come to know that the name of that belligerent girl was Sarah Perez. Who apparently belonged to a well off and reasonable family. Looking towards me with blood thirsty eyes, she went out of the classroom along with the rest of the members of her gang. I too went out carrying my bag and found that the rain had stopped but the intensity of cold had increased. I rubbed my hands and put them into the pockets of my jacket. Before I could go ahead, I was told by the attendant that sir Isaac wanted to see me in his office.

   Hearing this, I stepped into that corridor at the end of which, there was sir Isaac's office. After giving a gentle knock at the outer door, I opened it and saw Sarah sitting in an infuriated mood on one of the chairs across the table opposite to sir Isaac. In the short span of time, I heard only a few words spoken by her. "I'm at a loss to understand as to why you granted admission to a Muslim in your university without any particular reason. Don't you know that---."

   Before she could complete her sentence, I had entered the room and as she saw me she said, "Come on Hammad."

   Sarah became silent and I sat down on a chair in front of her. After noting something in the file that lay before him, sir Isaac closed it and looked towards both of us.

    "I wanted to introduce you to each other. It might be helpful in understanding the matters. Sarah, meet him. He's Hammad Amjad Raza. His grandfather held a very high post in the personal staff of the British Viceroy in united India. He has fulfilled all the strict terms and conditions for getting admission in our university. He has always been an excellent student."

    Sarah heard all these words in an arrogant and indifferent manner. Then, sir Isaac pointed towards Sarah. "Mr. Hammad, meet her. She is Sarah Isaac Perez, who has been a position holder for the last four semesters. She is my daughter and I hope you did not mind her bitter words so much."

    So this monstrous girl was sir Isaac's daughter, a Jewess. That is why, she always talked to me in a venomous tone. Even at that time, she was sitting in a proud and spiteful manner, with her face towards the other side, to give the impression that she regarded the person sitting on the chair next to her, not as a human being but a contemptible worm. Then, sir Isaac delivered a short lecture about the classroom manners and university discipline and expressed the hope that in the times to come, the atmosphere of the classroom would not become tense because of us. Both of us listened to him silently and then we were allowed to go. Almost at the same time, we left the office and began walking in opposite directions without looking at each other. On that very day, I had realized that it would not be so easy for me to get the Economics degree from this university. The cold war that had just started between me and Sarah, might soon turn into a major confrontation.

CHAPTER 10

      THE VENOM OF LOVE

After dropping Iman at her house that night, I started feeling her presence with me, at every moment of the night and day. I had heard a large number of romantic and amorous tales but till then, I had never known that the stinging of love could be so venomous. Within a single moment, the venom of love had pierced into each and every limb, bone, tissue and muscle of my body and I felt as if I had been destined to suffer all the time.

    Love takes possession of a man like a painful torment which continues to bite and sting him if it happens to be a one sided affair. He lives and dies again and again, in the course of a single moment

    I was utterly unable to find some ways and means of conveying to Iman the strong and intense feelings of love which I had for her. It was impossible for her to come out of her home. I had already spent hours and hours standing outside her home, for several days, in the hope of seeing a glimpse of hers. Moreover, now, Abdullah had also become quite familiar to me and there was always the danger of meeting him while standing outside his home. Besides this, even if she ever came out of her home, I did not like to stop her on the way and talk to her. It might leave a negative impression on her about me. But then, how to gain access to her? It was the only question which pestered my mind all the time.

   It is an all-admitted fact that there can be no limit to the human desires and wishes. Whenever man achieves a goal, he begins to regard it as a milestone and he starts his journey for achieving some other goal. In this process, his whole life is spent. Perhaps, man is destined to remain in this state of constant and unending struggle. Till a short time ago, having a single glimpse of Iman was the sole objective of my life. Nature had fulfilled this desire of mine on a number of occasions. But now, my desires and prayers had gone far beyond having another glimpse of hers. Somehow or the other, I wished to convey to her my intense emotions and feelings. Sometimes I think that the main cause of our ungratefulness to God is the fulfillment of our desires and achievement of our goals. If we had not fulfilled any of our desires, we would never have run after new ones. How fine it would have been, if we had spent our whole life struggling to fulfil a single desire.

    It would have been much better for me if I had not been able to see Iman after the party. In that case, I would not have been obsessed with this madness, and throughout my life, I would have wandered restlessly to see another glimpse of hers.

   My days and nights were being spent in the same anguish and agony. One evening, I was sitting on the roof, watching the setting sun of the passing summer. The summer sun takes a lot of time to set. It appears as if it is fighting a war with the night and is not willing to give its friend the evening twilight, to the dark shadows of the night. While as usual, I was sitting on the roof that evening, Shakir came there.

    "O Mr. Hammad, you are here? I've been searching for you everywhere. Here is a letter for you from my daughter Nighat."

   After giving me the letter, Shakir stood up to go. But then remembered something and stopped for a moment. "She was saying, request brother Hammad to fulfil his promise as soon as possible."

While giving his daughter's message, Shakir laughed and then went away. When I opened the letter, I found only a few lines written on the paper. "My dear brother, you seem to have forgotten your promise. You haven't yet talked to my father about my studies. Exams are close at hand and if I don't submit my forms in time, I'll lose a precious year of my academic career. Waiting for your recommendation."

   I then remembered that on the eve of her engagement, I had promised to talk to her father about the continuation of her studies. But how could she know that I was no longer in a position to remember the promises that I had made to others? I was passing through a condition in which at times, I did not remain conscious of even myself. However, I immediately decided to talk to Shakir about this problem. I knew very well that Shakir would never disappoint me. Even if it required us to go to Nighat's fiance, I was mentally prepared for it.

   With Nighat's written message in my hand, I was sitting in an absent minded manner, watching the setting sun. Then, all of a sudden, a brilliant idea flashed across my mind, like a blaze of lightning. What about Nighat? Yes Nighat! She could become an intermediary source between me and Iman, after all, she was a close intimate friend of Iman and Haya. I wondered why I didn't think of Nighat during all those days while I was banging my head against the walls in frustration and despair. Now, this brainwave give a new dimension to my restlessness and I most eagerly desired to rush to Shakir's house at that very moment. Somehow or the other, I passed the night and went to the old Haveli early next morning. During the previous evening, I had talked to Shakir about the continuation of her daughter's studies and he had assured me to talk to her fiance about the matter.

   When I told Shakir that I was going to the old Haveli, there was nothing unusual about it, because, I had often invited my friends to the parties which were arranged at that place. Whenever Kamran came from London, we used to spend most of our time at the same old Haveli;. How lively I was in those days. The whole building used to echo with our noisy activities, loud music and laughters. On such occasions, Nighat and Auntie used to prepare delicious dishes at our request. During the rainy season, we used to go to the garden at the back of the Haveli and loved to spend our time eating hot and crispy Samosas, Pakoras and Pooris. Crates of cold drinks were placed in the garden for our refreshment. To add to our joy, huge baskets full of mangoes were loaded on the carts and brought to the Haveli. Until a few weeks ago, I was full of liveliness, vivacity and vibrant energy. But then, it seemed as if love suddenly squeezed out my soul from the body.

    Whenever the watchman or some other servant told Nighat and Auntie about my coming to the Haveli, they would at once ask him about the number of guests coming with me. After gathering this information, they would immediately prepare the tea or breakfast with all the essential items and send it to me. If I went there alone, Nighat herself used to come to talk to me. She was very fond of getting and reading new books. In the presence of Shakir, she could not make any such request, because, he used to scold her on such occasions.

    The same thing happened that day. When Nighat came to know about my coming to the Haveli, she at once came there carrying tea and a plate full of salty biscuits. Signs of immense joy were vividly visible on her face. She told me that during the previous night, Shakir had allowed her to continue her studies. She knew very well that it was the outcome of my efforts and she sincerely thanked me for it. I did not know how to start the discussion for which I had specially come to her that morning. She also noticed the mental conflict through which I was passing at that time.

    "Brother Hammad, what's the matter? You seem to be somewhat lost."

    "Niggy, do you remember the girl who collided with me in the room on the eve of your engagement ceremony?"

   "Which girl? Yes, mother had told me about the incident," replied Nighat with a smile on her face, while pouring tea into the cup.

"She was Iman, the daughter of Maulvi Alimuddin, who lives in an old quarter of the city, where once we too lived. She is a very nice girl."

   Then she looked attentively towards me, as if some idea had come to her mind. "Brother, what's the matter? Why are you asking about her?"

   She had a mischievous look which made me nervous. How difficult it is to hide some of the truths of our heart. There was a time, when all of us used to tease her while discussing the topic of her engagement and marriage. Sometimes, we used to tease her so much with this topic that she began to weep. But today, the situation was totally different. Her mischievous smile had robbed me of my confidence, because, there was a secret in my heart which I had not yet revealed to her.

    "No there's nothing particular about her," I said rather timidly. "In fact I, I."

   Nighat understood my secret and said, "So that's the matter. Brother, don't try to make some mischief with her. She is a very innocent friend of mine and belongs to an extremely religious family."

   Nighat knew about many of my girl friends and was well aware of my flirting and non-serious behaviour with them. While I was enquiring about Iman, she thought that Perhaps I wanted to show the same routine behaviour to Iman. I held Nighat's hand and asked her to sit beside me.

   "Sit down Nighat and listen to me carefully."

    Then, I told her the whole story from A to Z. She listened to the whole story with astonishment.

   "Nighat, now tell me what to do. "I'm in a very precarious situation."

   "It's a very complicated affair. Miss Iman has deprived my dear brother of his sleep and calm. But the problem is that she's not that sort of a girl which you think her to be. Not to speak of talking to unknown men, she has always avoided even the shadow of such men. She has received all her education in veil and the honour of her family is dearer to her than her own life. Every family living in her neighbourhood wishes to make her their daughter-in-law. You're not the first boy to become the victim of her charm. During the past few years, several boys have been wandering through her street, in the hope of seeing a glimpse of hers, but she never looked towards them. My sincere advice to you is, stop thinking about her. It's a pretty complex affair," she remarked with a loud laugh and added, "You won't lose anything in this game, but I'll lose my dearest friend forever."

    I was angry at Nighat's words and stood up to leave.

   "All right Nighat. Don't do anything. I'll do something myself."

    As I stepped forward, Nighat caught my hand with a mischievous smile on her face. "O my dear brother, don't be annoyed with me. You seem to be really serious about Iman. If it is the case, I'll have to do something."

   "Then consider the matter seriously and think of some plan. Won't you do this little favour to your brother?"

    Nighat and I sat down together and began considering the various options available to us for conveying the feelings of my heart to Iman. The discussion continued for a long time. The suggestions which I put forward were rejected by her, while her proposals were dismissed by me and we failed to reach some definite conclusion. One of my suggestions was to send a short letter to Iman through Nighat but Nighat outrightly rejected the idea and told me that instead of reading any such letter, Iman would simply tear it and throw it away. Moreover, in such a situation, Iman might permanently break off her relations with her.

   At last, I was utterly exhausted with this prolonged discussion and sat down, holding my head in my hands. Nighat could not see this wretched condition of her dear brother and determined to make Haya her confidant in the matter. It was decided that Nighat would invite Haya and Iman to her house on some pretext. She knew that Maulvi Alimuddin was a very strict man and staunchly adhered to his principles, but she was confident that somehow or the other, she would be able to persuade him to allow her daughters to come to her house just once. Nighat promised that I would be informed of Iman's visit to her house beforehand; and during her visit, she (Nighat) would arrange my short meeting with Iman in loneliness. I knew how difficult it would be for Nighat. But for the sake of my love, she decided to put her childhood friendship at stake.

   It was decided that the plan would be executed on the coming Thursday. But before my return from the Haveli, Nighat again and again asked me to assure her that I was not flirting with Iman as I had been doing with so many other girl friends of mine. At last, I had to pull her ears in order to assure her of my sincerity and earnestness. But Nighat was not to blame so much for her attitude. After all, Iman who was indeed like a rare and unique gem had been her close intimate friend since her childhood. At that time, I had the feelings of envy for Nighat, who could so easily meet my charming and flower-like sweetheart and hold her hand in hers. I wished to sit there for hours and hours and hear from Nighat about Iman. When someone is really in love, what a blissful experience it is for him to talk and hear about his beloved. Such talking seems more satisfying than food and drinks. Centuries fly away like moments and the whole atmosphere begins to look fascinating without any particular reason. Confused jumbled and noisy sounds are transformed into a harmonious orchestra and cool and pleasant breeze begins to blow in the midst of scorching and suffocating heat of the sun. Days and nights are spent in a dreamy condition and without any reason, a gentle smile appears on the lips. Even enemies begin to look like friends.

   Till the coming Thursday, I too remained in the grip of all such feelings and conditions. It is said that one sided love affairs are full of fears and apprehensions. Same was the case with me. I was surrounded by strange fears and questions. I wondered whether she would be able to come or not. The Maulvi might forbid her to come at the last moment. Would she like to meet me or not? How would she interpret this attempt of mine?

   At last came that long awaited and much anticipated Thursday. Nighat had already told me what to do. Silence prevailed everywhere in that summer afternoon.  According to her, the time between 3 and 4 p.m. was most appropriate for the meeting. I was supposed to reach the old Haveli by two o clock. Along the main veranda of the Haveli, large reed screens were spread to keep away the heat of the sun. At the same place, there was a large room. We used to call it the cold room. In fact, there was a time when it used to be my grandfather's study. While constructing this room, it was made sure that it should be in the direction of the blowing wind in summer. It, therefore, used to remain cold even at the time of severe heat in the hot summer afternoons. Large shelves of this room were filled with rare books. I still remember that we used to pass the long summer afternoons, lying in this room and reading the stories of Tarzan and Umru Ayyar.

   Nighat had also revealed the fact that Iman had a craze for reading good books and she often used to borrow books from her. Nighat had told her about the rare books kept in my grandfather's study and according to her, Iman had a great desire to have a look at these books. But this study mostly remained closed. Nighat had invited her to the Haveli on the pretext of showing her the study and I too had come that day with the keys of that room in my pocket. At the same time, she had taken Haya into confidence and told her that in reality it was a pretext for enabling me to have a meeting with Iman.

    According to the plan, I was supposed to remain inside the study and wait for Haya and Iman. It was decided that Nighat would bring them into the study after which I would get a few moments for expressing my feelings to Iman. Everything else depended on my fate and my performance. It was up to her to listen to me, reject me or return angrily. Sitting in the study in a confused state of mind, I was looking at the old wooden clock on the wall. It was only 2-30 and I had arrived here only half an hour ago. But I had a feeling that I had been sitting there for centuries. The sparrows had built their nest in the large ventilator of the study and at that time, the mother sparrow was resting in the nest with its young ones. The sun was now slowly going down and forming new angles on the wall opposite to the ventilator. At times, waiting proves to be a breath taking experience and so did it seem to me at that moment.  In a state of mental agitation and anxiety, I began surveying the books kept in the shelves all around me but could not read anything. Even the slightest sound made me jump from my seat but each sound was followed by a prolonged silence. It was a long characteristic silence of summer afternoons, occasionally interrupted by the cawing of a crow in the distance. Sometimes, I could also hear the sound of a passing tonga or a motor car on the long black desolate road outside the Haveli. Time was slowly ticking away and soon the clock struck. Three. My fears and apprehensions were once again revived and began to multiply. No, she won't come. Haya must have told her all about Nighat's plan. She must have been greatly annoyed with Nighat. We must not have made such a plan. What would she be thinking about me? The whole mistake was mine.

   By 3-15, I had completely lost my patience and in this distressed condition, decided to go out of the room. But as soon as I stepped towards the door, I heard some footsteps accompanied by the melodious feminine laughing and talking at some distance in the veranda. Someone was surely coming towards this side and I again became breathless. Of course, it was the sound of Iman's footsteps. O God, give me some courage. As the door opened, Nighat entered the room, followed by Iman and Haya. They were all smiling. On seeing me, Nighat showed an artificial surprise. "O brother Hammad! How is it that you are here at this time?"

   Exactly as I had expected, there were signs of nervousness and panic on Iman's face

   In this bewilderment, she looked towards me and then immediately turned back to go but Haya was standing in her way and Nighat also firmly gripped her hand making it impossible for her to go anywhere.

    "Perhaps, your friend hasn't liked my presence here. I think I shouldn't be here."

    The extremely nervous and confused Iman once again lifted her head and looked towards me. Nighat glared at her and said, "No no brother. We've only come here to see some old books. In fact, Iman has a craze for reading good books."

   The outraged Iman looked angrily towards Nighat but Nighat still firmly held her hand.

   "Sure, why not? Have a look at these old books while I go. I'll be back soon."

   Having said this, I went out of the study because I no longer found in myself the courage to look towards her. On that day, she was in black dress and was looking all the more fascinating in her black head covering. Time and again, I was visualizing her trembling eye lashes, quivering lips and a scattered strand of hair. Standing outside in the veranda for a while, I attempted to regain control over my nerves. The whole show had been turned upside down. I should have behaved in a completely different manner. On some pretext, I should have sent Nighat and Haya outside the study for a few minutes, during which, I should have talked to Iman. But on seeing her, I had forgotten everything and had rushed out of the room. I was extremely angry with myself and thought that I might never get a chance to meet her again. Perhaps, I had lost the battle forever.

   In the meantime, I heard some sound near the study door. I was startled and as I looked towards that side, I saw Nighat stealthily coming out of the room. In angry gestures she asked me why I had behaved like that. In reply I could only shrug. Nighat then signaled to Haya who also came out. I was still standing there silent and dumbfounded. Nighat came forward, held me by the wrist and dragged me to the study door. As she pushed me inside the room, she whispered into my ears, "Only three minutes."

   I was still worried and upset as I entered the study with Nighat's push. Standing near the last shelf, Iman was reading a book. As she heard the noise, she turned around and looked rather inattentively. Perhaps, she could not even imagine that both Nighat and Haya would leave her alone in the room and instead of them, she would find me standing at the door. In this confusion, the book fell down from her hands. She properly adjusted her head covering and rushed towards the door to get out of the room but how could she do that? The study had only one door where I stood, blocking her path. Realizing the situation, she had to stop as quickly as she had advanced towards the door. In this utter helplessness, her face was becoming red and with her head bent, she was standing silently in the middle of the room. Perhaps, at that time, she was furious at Nighat and Haya and had fully understood their plot. For a few moments, both of us remained silent and the silence between us continued to speak. In this silence, I could even hear her breathing. Then she mustered up her courage and her sweet melodious voice was heard in the room. Like her whole body, her voice was also trembling.

    "I want to go out. Please don't stand in my way."

    It was for the first time that I had heard her uttering so many words together. For a while, I stood silently and then, all of a sudden, I felt as if I had regained my consciousness and I began to speak.

    "I'm sorry for blocking your path in such a way. This action of mine may degrade me in your eyes forever. But believe you me I have taken this step only after being compelled by the circumstances. Please don't have any wrong notions about me."

    "What do you want from me? Please let me go. For God's sake!"

    Her voice was now choking with emotions and the tears gathering around her eye lashes could start falling at any moment.

    "The only thing that I wish to tell you is that eversince I've seen you, I've become a stranger even for myself. I don't find appropriate words for expressing my feelings and describing my state of mind at this moment. All the words given in all the dictionaries of the world appear too common for me to give bent to my emotions. Perhaps, I've adopted a very common and cheap type of method for talking to you. But what else could I do? I didn't have any other option at my disposal. In a state of extreme helplessness, I've been forced to resort to this vulgar technique for conveying my feelings to you. If possible, please forgive me."

   She was still standing quietly, with her head bent and her eyes fixed on the carpet.

   "I think you have said what you wanted to say. Now, please let me go. I implore you."

    I shall be waiting for your response."

    I no longer stood in her way and like a gust of wind, she dashed out of the room with all her delicacy. Only her sweet fragrance was left behind in the room. I saw her through the window that opened towards the outside veranda. She walked past Nighat and Haya without stopping and talking to them. They were running after her and calling her but she was quite indifferent to them. Haya saw me through the window with her mischievous eyes. With a smile she saluted me and then ran after Iman. At that moment, I like her very much. After all, she had trusted an unknown man and sent her dearest sister to meet him. I don't know how Nighat had been able to convince her to facilitate her in this adventure. Anyhow, at this moment, both Nighat and Haya were in an extremely difficult situation. Iman must be greatly annoyed with both of them and I didn't know how Nighat and Haya would persuade her to change her mood.

    In a spellbound condition, I sat in the same room for a long time. I didn't have the least desire to go out of the room. I wished to visualize again and again the same delightful scene when that charming and delicate sweetheart of mine was present in the same room, silently standing before me, with her head down, talking to me and quivering like a leaf.

    The sun had now gone down and there was no more heat in the light passing through the ventilator. As I looked at my watch, it was 5-30 and with an unwilling heart, I stood up to go. Suddenly, I saw the book that had dropped from Iman's hand and fallen down on the ground. I picked it up. It was Bano Qudsia's novel "Raja Gidh." Near the book, there were two pearls, which I had already seen in Iman's sandals. I remembered that while talking to me, her eyes were constantly fixed on the ground and following her gaze, I had looked towards her feet several times. It was quite obvious that when the book dropped from her hands, it must have fallen for a moment on her feet and at that time, these pearls must have been dislodged from her shoes. I picked up both the pearls and put them into my pocket.

   Waiting for Nighat was quite in vain and with heavy steps, I came out. Throughout the night, the scenes of the day remained before my eyes like a movie. My condition was that of a dull student, who does not properly attempt even a single question in the examination and even then, anxiously waits for the result.

   Sometimes, we reach that stage in which, we are eager to know the result and are least concerned about the nature of the result. We do not bother to think whether the matter will be decided against us or in our favour. We are only keen to hear the decision whatever it may be. Generally, it happens with those who have weak nerves and are quite incapable of withstanding the pain and agony of waiting. Exhausted and frustrated under extreme mental pressure, they cry out that whatever is to happen, must happen at once. At such moments, they are quite unaware of the fact that although they are horrified at the idea that the result or decision may be against them and yet, they are earnestly praying for its immediate announcement. They do not bother to think about their wretched and miserable condition at the time when the result or decision would be actually announced against them.

   I was also passing through a similar situation that night while I was restlessly awaiting Iman's response. I only wanted to hear it immediately and without any delay, no matter what it would be. Another lurking desire of my heart might also have contributed to this hastiness of mine at that time. My heart was desperate for another contact or encounter with my beloved at any cost. I only wished to hear my name from her lips even if she mentioned my name in an offensive or abusive manner. When a person is in love, his heart begins to behave like a little child, who is only concerned with the passing moment, the passing hour and the passing day, quite indifferent to the fears and apprehensions about future life. He is only interested in the present moment and is least concerned about the consequences of his present actions. As soon as I woke up the next morning, I wished to go to Nighat at that very moment and ask her the details of everything that had happened during the previous day. But it did not seem so appropriate to go to the old Haveli so frequently. It is true that I had always enjoyed a sisterly relationship with Nighat, but what about the other servants who worked in the Haveli and saw me meeting Nighat in loneliness. They might take a negative impression of my frequent visits and meetings with Nighat. Then, I myself shrugged off all such futile, absurd and baseless ideas, apprehensions and suspicions. Perhaps, love teaches a man to be suspicious of himself.

    It was 11-30 and I was still in my room, when Shakir came there and gave me a closed envelope from Nighat. Then, as usual, he said, "Yesterday, you went to the Haveli. Was there any special reason for your visit?"

    Shakir had asked a common question in a routine manner, but for some unknown reason, it made me nervous.

    "Yes. No. Yes. I mean, there was nothing special. I had told Nighat to find some books from the shelves of the study and I went there to collect those books."

   With suspicious eyes, Shakir looked towards me and said, "You see, I'll be very much annoyed with you, if you give some more books to Nighat. She must have sent a list of new books in this envelope."

    I laughed at Shakir's words. Perhaps, he was thinking something else. I assured him not to give any new book to Nighat during that month.

    Immediately after Shakir's departure from the room, I tore up the envelope and brought out Nighat's letter and began reading it with eager and restless eyes.

    "My dear brother,

You gave us a very tough time yesterday. She was annoyed with me and angrily went away from my house. She was not even talking to her younger sister. I had told you that she wouldn't like such things. But what is done cannot be undone. Today, I'll go to her house; and Haya and I will try to persuade her to change her mood. But God alone knows how she would decide your case. My advice to you is that you should talk to the members of your family and send some of them to her house. In this way, she would be convinced about the truth of what you said to her yesterday. Otherwise, she is not one of those girls who like to have such relationship without the proper involvement of relatives. Be happy."

   In this short letter, Nighat had written exactly what I had expected. Even then, it significantly increased my sadness and restlessness. The same thing happened; anxious anticipation of the result, followed by the restlessness on hearing it. All the peace and calm of my life had been shattered.

    But in the midst of all the grim and hopeless circumstances, man never loses the sight of hope. On finding one door shut, he goes to another door and knocks at it and the same process continues to the last moment of his life. If the element of hope had not been gifted to man by Nature, he would have perished with his first failure and passed away with the first disappointment.

    I was also filled with a new hope. If Nighat and Haya manage to persuade her to change her mind, she may take some pity on my condition and may say something about me. My heart beats were now awaiting some other message from her, but I had to pass through this agonizing condition of waiting for another few days.

Edited by jkff - 12 years ago

CHAPTER 11

     THE YELLOW LONDON

If evening falls in London after a bright sunny day, perhaps, in no other part of the world, can we find a more fascinating evening than this. It becomes even more attractive and charming if it is autumn season. It was also one of those beautiful London evenings. The sky had the redness of the evening twilight, while the earth seemed to be on fire with the red autumnal leaves. It appeared as if some painter had drawn a marvelous picture on the canvas with the help of red and yellow colours only.

    Kamran and I were strolling on the desolate road leading from the Hyde Park to the city. The road was covered on both sides with thick peepul trees, whose autumnal leaves were falling on our heads like flowers which are showered on a bridegroom on his marriage day. The severity of cold had compelled us to turn up the collars of our overcoats up to our necks. The heaps of snow on the roadside were slowly melting and falling with a low noise into the drains covered with iron grills. Quite indifferent to the severe cold, a couple was standing near an ice cream van, telling the ice cream seller to prepare cone ice creams of their choice. It is rightly said that ice cream tastes most delicious at the time of severe cold. In her dress, the girl herself looked like a colourful ice cream. The boy whispered something into her ears and both of them laughed loudly. As usual, Kamran made a bad face and condemned the mental level of all the beautiful young girls of London. The sun was setting in the distance and it seemed as if the road were taking us straight towards the ball of the setting sun.

    "Dear Medi, whatever may be the case, I'm apprehensive about the intentions of that Jewess. You've come here in search of peace. Give up your studies for a few days and I'll also take some days off. Let's go to Switzerland in search of new loves. What do you say to that?"

    I knew that Kamran wanted to set out in search of such new loves. "Mend your ways Mr. Kamran. One after another, three girls left you after remaining engaged to you for a whole year, only because of your own actions. Now, do you want to have double hattrick?"

    We had now reached near the large fountain in the square. In the middle of the fountain, there was a big iron lion which was emitting sprays of water instead of blood from its mouth. However, at that time, a few sprays of water had melted and assumed the form of thin snow bows. The last tram was about to leave. We ran towards that yellow tram having red lines on it and got into it. A gipsy woman wearing a long dress was also sitting in the tram with other passengers. Both she and Kamran laughed as they saw each other. In astonishment, I looked towards Kamran.

    "Do you know her?"

    "No. But it makes no difference. She knows me and that's why she is smiling while looking towards me."

   Then, the gipsy warmly stretched out her arms and advanced towards Kamran. Kamran was jubilant like a rose in full bloom and he too extended his hands. The gipsy passed between us and was soon locked in a warm embrace with a dirty looking Negro, who had long hair and was standing behind us. Kamran stood there with his outstretched arms and in the end, I had to embrace him. For a few moments, he stood still, in a mood of anger and amazement and then, both of us laughed heartily while the train was slowly heading for its destination.

    Some people consider love to be the purest emotion of life and are of the opinion that no other emotion can be purer than love. As a coincidence, neither I nor Kamran agreed to this theory and interestingly, we had quite different views about this matter.

    I considered hatred to be the world's purest emotion. There can be some defect or adulteration in love but hatred is always, real, genuine and intense. Kamran on the other hand regarded lust as the world's purest emotion. He was of the view that man is pure and truthful only in the case of lust, while he is dishonest somewhere or somehow in case of all other emotions. The fact is that whether it is love or hatred, infatuation or lust, they all seem to me four different sides of one and the same emotion. I had always regarded as hypocrites all those people who hate on the basis of love or those who hide their lust in order to prove the truth of their infatuation. Sometimes I thought that those who openly admit their feelings of lust, are the only brave and truthful people in the world. Perhaps, lust is the world's only eternal and lasting relationship and all of us are the product of one such relationship.

   Once again, before going to bed that night, Kamran advised me not to have any row with sir Isaac's daughter miss Sarah, because, since my childhood, he had been fully aware of one particular habit of mine. I could handle a situation only to a certain extent but whenever I began to be obsessed with that particular matter or situation, I became reckless and attempted to tackle it, regardless of my own benefit or loss. Kamran knew very well that I had come to London to get rid of the dark shadows of my past and, therefore, he did not want me to be entangled in any tense situation.

   But perhaps, at that moment, Nature was not in favour of Kamran's desires, because, the very next morning, the first person with whom I had an encounter was none other than miss Sarah. When I reached the university compound, I found Joseph standing at his favourite place on the bank of the stream, throwing grains for the birds. As he saw me from a distance, he began calling me with the motion of his hand. There was still some time left for the start of the period and I thought of spending some time in the company of Joseph. But as soon as I went up the bridge which joined both banks of the stream, Sarah also arrived there with the gang of her four friends. Her friends included two girls and two boys and all of them were the students of my class. As Sarah passed by me, she said a few words in Hebrew without knowing that the study of old languages had once been a field of special interest for me. As some people are fond of ticket collecting, stamp collecting and painting, in the same way, there was a time, when my only hobby was getting information about old languages of the world. I had inherited this hobby from my grandfather. Some rare books dealing with old languages could still be found in the library of the old Haveli. They included the copies of the Torah and the Psalms. I had read these books and felt no difficulty in understanding Sara's words. She had made some blasphemous remarks about my religion. Instead of English, she had used the Hebrew language, because, perhaps, her main intention was receiving praise from her friends, besides insulting me. I could also talk in Hebrew to some extent and, therefore, I replied her in Hebrew. "No religion allows its followers to use abusive language for any other religion. In fact, those who are abusing other religions, are abusing their own religion."

    On hearing me talking in Hebrew, Sarah was stunned and dumb founded for a moment. She could never have imagined that I would be able to understand her words and give a befitting reply in her own language. One of the boys from her group, who perhaps, did not understand Hebrew, hurriedly went to Sarah and asked her what I had said to her. Sarah was still standing silently and I began to walk forward. But in the meantime, the other boy came there and stood in my way. For a while, we stood there glaring at each other, without saying anything. Joseph who was observing the whole scene from a distance, understood the gravity of the situation. He at once started coming towards us. While he was still at some distance, he shouted, "Hi Hammad! Where are you? Come here at once. I've got some important things to discuss with you."

   Since Joseph was teaching at the same University, the boys thought it better to remain silent in his presence. I also removed the boy from my way and advanced towards Joseph. Sarah and her group also went in another direction.

    As Joseph looked towards me, he seemed worried. "What were they saying to you?"

    "Nothing. I didn't know that religious prejudice has spread even to such major universities after the 9-11 attacks."

   "You'd better have no dispute with these people. All of them are the children of high class aristocratic Jews. They may create any trouble for you at any moment."

   Soon, Joseph and I went to our favourite bench and sat there. A cluster of pigeons picked up the grains and flew away with a loud coo and they were replaced by some new ones.

    "I don't wish to have any quarrel with anyone here. But I don't know why they always cross my way. I wonder what wrong I've done to them."

    Joseph brought out some more grains from his brown paper envelope and tossed them in the air and began to speak. "I know you always mind your own business and you've never attempted to have any row with them. But these students regard this university as their estate and its students as their subjects and you are not behaving like their loyal and humble subjects."

    "What do you mean?" How can I behave like their loyal subjects?"

    "The fact is that there is a touch of dignity and pride in the way you behave, talk and walk. You don't seem to be bullied or brow beaten by anyone; and this is exactly what they dislike. How can they tolerate someone who stands with dignity and honour before them and who is not ready to be bullied by them?"

   I became angry. "But why should I be afraid of them or brow beaten by them? There must be some reason for it. I haven't come here on some charity scholarship. I've paid thousands of pounds as fee and passed the University's merit test. Perhaps, the amount of money which I pay as donation and fee is more than that of every other student at the University because, I've been granted admission on a special seat. Then, why should I be afraid of anyone?"

    "Your heavy fees and donations have silenced these Jewish businessmen. You're like a gold mine for them which they don't want to lose although you are a Muslim. If you don't mind, the fact is that the thing that has brought you to this university is not your ability but the bank statement attached to your application form."

    "But how did you come to know of all these things?" I asked him in utter astonishment.

   "Perhaps, you haven't considered the fact that there are only a small number of Muslim students at the University. Most of them are only so-called Muslims and have got so much mixed up with the followers of other religions that they have completely lost their own separate identity. But you look quite different from them. Another important point to remember is that while giving admission to a student, this university thoroughly scrutinizes his ancestral line. It may be that they didn't find any troublesome character in the list of your predecessors."

   I was startled and looked towards him in bewilderment. He might have uttered these words in a casual manner. But whatever he had said was absolutely correct. My grandfather and great grandfather had been extremely loyal to the British government which used to give them regular allowances for their loyalty. No rebel had ever been born in our previous seven generations.

    "I carefully looked towards Joseph. "But why are you telling me all these things? After all, you're also a part of the administration of this university. Why are you disclosing to me the secrets of the university administration?"

    Joseph smiled. "Sometimes I'm surprised to think that there's something in you that gives the impression that you're not a stranger to me. You look quite different from others because, perhaps, you loved somebody most intensely in your life and I've always held in high esteem all those people who love sincerely and intensely."

    A smile appeared on my lips. "It appears as if you also loved somebody in your life. But how can you say that I must have loved someone most intensely in my life? I may be even quite ignorant of the passion of love."

    "It's simply impossible. Your eyes can never tell a lie. Perhaps, you yourself are unaware of the numerous secrets and pains of love that lie hidden in the depths of these eyes. Love gives calm and composure to man. Outwardly, he may look calm and peaceful. But inwardly, he is extremely restless. You're also one such calm and peaceful sea which contains thousands of fierce storms."

   I took a long breath and realized that the secrets of my heart were becoming evident from my face. Where to go and how to hide the bits of the mirror of my broken heart?

    Joseph and I sat quietly for some time on the bench. There was some vibration in the air with the flowing of the water in the canal in front of us. All around us, there were the sounds of the pigeons and other birds picking up the grains of food. As the cold air struck against my eyes, I realized that my eyes had become wet. From the pocket of my coat, I took out the thick dark glasses and put them on. It is better for the secrets of the heart to remain inside the heart. But when they start flowing out from the eyes it is better to conceal them.

Edited by jkff - 12 years ago

CHAPTER 13

      MEMORIES

At times, memories play a strange game with us. They compel us to laugh by thinking about the time when we once wept with somebody. In the same way, they compel us to weep by thinking about the time when we laughed with someone. After that brief encounter with Sarah, which involved the exchange of Hebrew words, Sarah had become careful. Although at times she taunted me, yet the element of caution was evident from her attitude. Almost daily, I used to meet Joseph on our favourite bench. As we became more frank and familiar, he told me several things about his personal life. For instance he told me that he had three children who had left him one by one after growing up. Now, only he and his wife lived together under one roof. He was still teaching at the university because he had no other source of income and because he did not want to go to the old men's home. One day, while returning from the university, he took me to his home in Bridgetown. His wife Mary was a kind old lady who had a strange deep sadness in her eyes. She behaved with me like a mother who meets her son after a very long time. I stayed there for a long time during which she served me with a number of things which she herself had cooked. While I was begging leave from her, she filled my pockets with several eatable things just like the elderly women of my village. I then remembered my childhood during which, whenever I used to go to meet my maternal and paternal grandmothers, they used to fill my pockets with walnuts, apricots, pistachios and other such things while I was on my way back to the city. Perhaps, the same type of language is used throughout the world for the expression of love. It is sweet like honey and it burns the eyes like raw smoke.

    Like an unfaithful beloved, the weather of London is also quite unreliable. For a moment, you may be experiencing the heat of the sun but the very next moment, you may have to open your umbrella for protecting yourself from the rain. The same thing happened that morning. Before going to the university, as I looked out of the window, the sun was shining brightly. But by the time I came out of the flat and reached the road side coffee machine, the sky had become completely overcast and when I reached the University, the rain had actually started. With the rain falling on me and the bag of my notes on my shoulders, I reached the classroom. But contrary to my expectations, the class room was empty. Had I come earlier or was the lecture to be delivered in some other room? As I turned to leave the hall, I looked at the blackboard and the words written on it prevented me from going out. Some highly insulting anti-Muslim sentences had been written on the blackboard. At the end of each sentence, there was the typical Jewish sign known as David Star (six cornered star). Each sentence reflected the venomous feelings which the writer had for the Muslims.

"Down with the Muslims*" "Terrorists*" "We are the only great*" "Muslims leave this campus*"

    I knew that I was the only Muslim in the class and the whole thing had been written for me. I also knew the person who had written these sentences which sent a heat wave in my blood. For the first time I realized that there was some truth in what Kamran had said about the Jews. In the meantime, an Australian class fellow of mine named Rebecca entered the class. As she saw the writings on the blackboard, she looked towards me in surprise.

    "Hi Medi, who the devil has written this whole fuss on the blackboard?"

     "The most impudent and arrogant girl in the class. Who else could have done it?"

    "You mean Sarah? No, she can't do it."

    "Rebecca, if you meet her, tell her I didn't know that those who regard themselves so great are so weak that they don't have the courage to say something straight into the face of their enemies."

After giving her this message, I came out of the classroom. It was drizzling outside and I was in no mood of taking the class. Whenever there was a heavy rainfall or snowfall, large blue and yellow umbrellas were opened on the grassy lawns and on the wooden benches along the bank of the canal that passed through the centre of the University. As I went towards that side, I saw Joseph sitting on a bench under one such umbrella along the canal bank. That day, he had brought the canvas for painting the scene of the falling rain. The rain drops falling in the canal were causing vibration in the water and this vibration was giving birth to different types of images on the surface of water. Joseph was busy painting all these images on his canvas.

    I went near him and starting examining his paintings. He was indeed an excellent painter and had beautifully depicted the image of the back of the University building in the canal water. But instead of being a motionless painting of the image, it was the picture of the changes taking place in the image due to the falling of the drops of rain in the canal water. Joseph had paid full attention towards minute details of the scene. While he was still busy in his painting, he turned and looked towards me.

    "What about this painting?"

    "It's wonderful. It appears as if the canvas itself is a canal on which you are throwing rain water."

    Joseph clapped his hands in delight. "That's great. No one has ever praised my paintings in such a perfect manner. The words you use are indeed excellent. I make my paintings with the help of colours while you do the same thing with the help of words."

    After giving finishing touches to his painting, Joseph came to me and sat on the bench beside me.

    "What's the matter? You seem to be somewhat disturbed today."

    I narrated to him the incident that had taken place in the classroom. Joseph too was angry.

    "There must be some limits of narrow mindedness. Even then, I agree with Rebecca that Sarah can't do such things. Perhaps, I haven't told you that before getting admission in this university, Sarah used to be my student at another institution, where I used to teach painting to the evening classes. She herself is a very good painter. It's true that she is full of hatred for you people and in this connection, she can go to any length. But the fact is that she is in the habit of openly attacking her enemies and, therefore, I firmly believe that she can't do such cheap things. She believes that attacking the enemy from behind the back is an insult for the Jews."

    I nodded my head rather indifferently and said, "You may be all right in your views about her, but one thing is quite obvious that my confrontation with these people is becoming indispensable. Perhaps, propaganda is the main weapon used by the Jews."

    "You've rightly understood the matter. For this very reason, they are the dominant force in the global business. In a most tactful manner, they're using their business for the sake of their propaganda and are employing their propaganda for the promotion and expansion of their business. Through this business, they've earned so much wealth that now they've become the king makers in the most powerful countries of the world. It may be in your knowledge that Jews are the founders of the franchise system, on the basis of which, they have expanded their business in every nook and corner of the world today."

    I looked attentively towards Joseph and remarked, "If they are so successful in the world, why are they so much afraid of others?"

   Joseph smiled and said "Perhaps, from the very first day, they have been destined to remain in a state of fear. God sent the largest number of His messengers to the Jewish nation. As many as four thousand prophets including Moses were sent to them. If we divide this number by the number of their generations, we'll come to know that on average, one generation had ninety prophets. Even then, this nation remained in a state of misguidedness and this fear is the fear of the same misguidedness."

    I was listening to the words of Joseph in a state of utter astonishment. I did not know that he had so much knowledge about Jewish history. Joseph took a long breath and continued to speak. "Anyhow, I again advise you to avoid confrontation with these people, because, in the clash of the head and the stone, it is always the head that is injured. They are obsessed with the idea of their glory and superiority and it is impossible to remove such ideas from their minds."

    All of a sudden, as the rainfall intensified, there was an increased activity in the ripples which were being formed in the canal water in front of us. Frightened by the heavy rain, a cluster of geese took a long flight in the air and the flapping of their wings made a peculiar sound in the atmosphere. Joseph started gathering his paintings and other things. I also assisted him in this work but throughout this period, I was constantly thinking about what Joseph had said about the Jews. Perhaps, he too had noticed my thoughts.

   "What are you thinking" about?"

    "I'm thinking that somehow or the other, these Jews also know that they are not great themselves and that some other people are great. They are afraid that the next generation of these really great people may once again recognize its greatness. That's why, the Jews are not ready to allow these people or their coming generations to feel confident or to become aware of their real greatness. It is said that if a lie is repeatedly and continuously told for a long time, there comes a time when this lie is considered to be a truth and people start regarding the truth as a lie. Perhaps, the Jews are also acting upon the same formula. They know that their lie is being accepted as a truth in the world while our truth is being condemned in the whole world as a lie. Currently, the world is governed by the principle of might is right. Whatever the mighty and powerful people say is believed to be an undeniable truth and at this time, it's the Jews who are the most powerful people in the world."

    While listening to me, Joseph was also lost in some deep thoughts.

CHAPTER 14

     THE INCOMPLETE LOVE

After requesting Shakir to take my marriage proposal to the Maulvi's house, when I returned home that evening, I noticed that the Commissioner was extremely angry. While I was going upstairs from the lounge, I was halted by his loud roar.

    "Stop here."

    I stopped there. Mother, brother Sajjad and his wife Abrina also came out of their rooms. Father was present there with all the arrogance and pride of a Commissioner while I stood before him with my head bent like a B class criminal.

    "So you won't go to London?"

    "I'm ready to go to London if you make amends for the misbehaviour shown to Maulvi Alimuddin in this house.

    "What!" roared the Commissioner.

"So you want that Retired Commissioner Amjad Raza, who has access even to the President house, should apologize to an ordinary Maulvi. Just forget it."

   "Then all of you should also forget that I would ever act upon any of your instructions."

   As I started going upstairs, the Commissioner roared again with all his wrath and fury. "Perhaps, you're forgetting the fact that only my orders and instructions are acted upon in the house under whose roof you are living.

    In other words, I was being indirectly threatened that if I refused to comply with the Commissioner's orders, I would be expelled from the house. I was not particularly surprised at this warning, because, while he was in office, the Commissioner must have been expelling the criminals from his town and city exactly in the same manner. Moreover, I had committed the most heinous crime, that is, the crime of love and this crime has never been considered pardonable. I was standing in the courtroom of my family as a criminal of love.

   I turned and looked towards the Commissioner. "Does it mean that I'm no longer entitled to live in this house?"

     Mother looked worried. Perhaps, she was apprehensive that things were not going in the right direction.

"No my dear son, why should we want any such thing to happen? We only wish that you should remove the thought of that girl from your mind."

    "I believe that it's easier for me to leave this house than removing her thought from my mind and heart."

    I started going towards the main gate in order to go out. Mother shouted from behind me, "Hammad, What stupidity it is!"

    In a scornful and contemptuous manner, the Commissioner thundered again.

    "Let him go. In a day or two, he'll become aware of the prices of things and the meaning of living away from the comforts and luxuries of home. This prince of ours, who has spent his whole life drinking mineral water, sleeping in air conditioned rooms and enjoying the service of a battalion of servants, has not yet seen even a single glimpse of the difficulties and hardships of the outside world. Let him remain outside the home for a single night and you'll see that he'll automatically get rid of this demon of love. He doesn't even know how to walk properly. Tell us Mr., are you capable of going to the place where you wish to go or should I ask the driver to take you to that place?"

    I turned towards the Commissioner. "Parents should teach their children how to walk. It's an unfortunate thing that you haven't taught me how to walk but time is a great teacher. It teaches a person even those things which his parents have forgotten to teach him. Sooner or later, I'll learn how to live without your servants, air conditioners and mineral water. Even if I fail to learn such things, rest assured that I won't come to you for help."

    Mother continued to shout; brother Sajjad was dumbfounded while in a state of extreme frustration and agitation, Father kept on emitting smoke from his pipe.

    All the open ways of the city lay in front of me and over my head was the blazing sky. I did not know where to go. Father was right to say that I had never gone out of the house on foot. I had seen every road and street of the city only through the wind screen of my cars of the latest model. That day, while walking on these paths on foot, I was for the first time realizing their length and their scenes.

    It is said that everyone talks of changing the world but no one makes any serious attempt to change himself. It was the day when I had started the efforts to change myself. Sitting for a long time on a bench in a park, I contemplated on this totally changed situation. I had thrown away my ATM card in front of the members of my family in the lounge while I was leaving the house and now, I had only a few hundred rupees in my pocket. I wondered how these rupees had remained in my pocket. Evening was slowly descending into the park and those people who were strolling in the park or relaxing there, had started going home one after the other. In a short while, the park became empty and at the time of the Maghrib Prayer, the watchman of the park came to me and informed me of the closure of the park. It was obvious that he wanted to tell me that the park had to be closed and, therefore, I should also go home. But on that day, I had no home at all, so where to go? The building which I had considered to be my home since my childhood, turned out to be the court of the Commissioner, where I could live only as long as I submitted myself to his dictates. I suggest that at the start of each year, all such parents should tell their children to fill in a contract form, having all the terms and conditions pertaining to their stay with them. These terms and conditions should be read out to their children annually so that they may never make the mistake of regarding that building as their home.

    Darkness of the night was now descending on the roads where the heavy gas lamps placed on the carts had been lit. While walking on the road, I saw the gate of the Government Civil Hospital. I could still remember that during childhood, on our way back home from school, Kamran and I used to stop here, because my uncle was working as civil surgeon in this hospital at that time. After crossing the hospital, one could see a road leading to a square. My school was situated next to the square. Whenever we went to the uncle's office, we used to make a lot of noise in the long corridors of the hospital and played on the roads of the hospital covered with pine trees for several hours. I further remembered those long wooden benches which were placed under the high evergreen trees. These benches were used for sleeping by those poor people who had come with their patients from far off areas and who could not afford to rent a room or stay in a hotel in the city. That strange night of my life was going to be spent on one of those benches. In my disturbed state of mind, I did not even think of those few hundred rupees which were present in the pocket of my shirt.

    I went there and lay on one of those wooden benches. After a long time in my life, I felt the open sky and shining stars talking to me. I remembered those memorable summer nights of childhood which we used to spend with our grandmother. At night, our beds were laid in the open courtyard and as Grandmother started telling interesting stories, we used to feel that the stars shining on our heads were also listening to her stories. These smiling stars remained awake as long as we did not go to sleep after listening to the story. They went on playing with us and talking to us as long as the story continued.

    I felt as if the stars of my childhood had once again come to me that night to share my loneliness. The sight of those stars caused some embarrassment to me, because, I had forgotten them for such a long time. But during that night, as I looked towards them with my wet eyes, I noticed that all those old friends of my childhood had once again assembled over my head without any complaint. They had come only to share my pain and suffering. While we were children, each of us used to choose his favourite star. Kamran, Niggy, Ibad and I had our own selected stars. For myself I used to choose the most brilliant star, because since my childhood, I had been in the habit of selecting the rarest and most prominent things for myself. Same was the case with her who was unique and most prominent among all the girls. If my heart had expressed its desire for her, what was wrong with it? Why had the whole world turned against me? Why has the world always turned against the lovers? That whole night was spent under the onslaught of several such questions and I suddenly realized the passage of the night when one after the other, my friends the stars started bidding farewell to me; and I began to hear the loud noise made by the little birds in their small nests in the pine, cherry and other trees. Perhaps, nests are also like our homes. First of all, older members of the family wake up and prepare breakfast for the children and then, the children are awakened from their sleep. Then, I heard the Azan from the hospital mosque and one after the other, worshippers were seen going towards the mosque. For a while, I went on observing these people who had sacrificed their early morning sleep and were rubbing their eyes and going towards the mosque full of religious fervour. Till then, I had never got up so early in the morning for going to the mosque in order to offer the Morning Prayer. I wondered what strange type of people they were. I was unable to understand the passion which was driving them towards the mosque. I had spent the whole night sleeplessly and now, rays of the sun had reached the ground after passing through the branches of tall trees. The hustle and bustle of life had begun. Perhaps, it was time for the visit of some senior doctor because, members of the hospital staff clad in white uniform were hurriedly removing the bench sleepers from the benches. I myself had no mind to stay there. I had to go to Shakir. He might have gone to the Maulvi's house the previous day and might have brought some fresh news for me. Quite unintentionally, I put my hand into the pocket and discovered the few hundred rupee notes which were in my pocket at the time when I was leaving my home. I got into a tonga standing near the hospital gate and told the tonga driver to take me to that part of the city where Shakir's house was situated. For the first time on that day I realized that if a person is sitting on the back seat of a tonga, the surrounding scenes appear to him like a movie being shown in twisted form.

    Shakir who was coming out of the Haveli's gate, was stunned to see me there and ran towards me. For a while, he carefully surveyed me as if I had come from some other planet. "O Mr. Hammad, where did you go yesterday? Where did you spend the last night? What strange appearance you've made of yourself."

    Accompanied by Shakir, I went to his quarter, because, I had refused to go to the drawingroom of the old Haveli. Shakir hurriedly opened the door of his quarter's drawingroom that opened into the backyard of the old Haveli. With my half shut eyes, I remained seated at the sofa for some time. After a short while, Nighat and Shakir entered the room with the breakfast tray. The breakfast which Nighat had hastily prepared consisted of Parathas, tea and a delicious dish made of boiled eggs. But at that time, I was in no mood of eating anything. However, on the insistence of Shakir, I had to drink a few draughts of tea. I was eager to know about his visit to the Maulvi's house. But before that, Shakir told me what had happened at my own house after my departure. At the time when I left my home, Shakir had gone to meet the Maulvi. Afterwards, when he went to my home, some other servants narrated to him the incident that had taken place there. According to Shakir, Mother was worried about me while Father and brother Sajjad were satisfied with the thought that I would soon return home after being driven from pillar to post. However, my younger brother Ibad had visited all of my friends during the night in search of me. I did not tell Shakir where I had spent the night. In response to all his questions, I asked him only one question. "Did you go to the Maulvi's house? What's the news from there?"

   As he listened to my question, he remained silent for a while and then spoke. "Yes, I went there yesterday. Ever since his return from your house that day, the Maulvi has become a bed ridden fellow and his whole family seems to be in a state of mourning. In such a situation, I didn't think it appropriate to talk to him about anything else. I only enquired after his health and came back. The Maulvi has been completely shattered by the shocking incident that took place in your house. The only valuable asset for a gentleman is his sense of honour. But if someone deprives him of it, he finds himself buried alive."

    I could very well imagine the hard times through which the Maulvi's family must have been passing at that time. Shakir had done the right thing by returning home without saying anything to the Maulvi about me. There was no reason for me to remain sitting in Shakir's drawingroom and I, therefore, got up to leave.

    Shakir caught my hand. "Where do you wish to go now? I won't let you go anywhere."

   "I've got no destination now. I'll go wherever my legs carry me. I've got a splendid opportunity of recognizing myself and I don't want to lose it at any cost, otherwise, for the rest of my life, I won't be able to raise my head before anyone and even myself."

     Shakir was well aware of my nature. Whenever I determined to do something, no power on earth could force me to reverse my decision. His eyes were full of tears because, he knew that I had spent my whole life in a bed of roses and that very soon, I would be fatally wounded by the thorns which I had deliberately opted for myself. But at the same time, he knew that he won't be able to stop me. He walked along me to the last end of the Haveli. As I looked around, I found Nighat standing beside the door. Her eyes were full of tears and with the corner of her head covering, she was wiping off those tears. I forcibly sent Shakir back to his home. After all, he had to go on his duty. The Commissioner had been extremely furious during the previous evening and I knew that he would vent out his fury on the servants. At last, with tearful eyes, Shakir went back.

    After walking on the road for a while, I found a tonga and told the driver to take me to the railway station. I remembered that Kamran often talked to me about one of his distant relatives named Javed Siddiqi, who was serving as Station Master in the railway. He did not know me but I thought that he might still be serving at the same post at Quetta Railway Station. I had to do something to make both ends meet and that distant relative of Kamran might be of some help to me. Moreover, one sentence spoken by Maulvi Alimuddin during his last encounter with me, was continuously echoing in my ears.

    Standing at the gate of my house, I was humbly apologizing to Maulvi Alimuddin and requesting him to prescribe for me whatever punishment he liked for the injustice that had been done to him by my family. In that situation, the Maulvi had said something which was absolutely true.

    "You haven't got any identity of your own. Only those people who have their own identity, have the right to beg forgiveness and to be forgiven. As far as you are concerned, you are dependent on those who have made fun of my poverty and disgraced my innocent daughters."

   Whatever he had said was a truth and I had felt his words like a slap on my face. He had rightly said that I had no right to apologize on behalf of the members of my family, because, I was totally dependent on them. In other words, till then, I had spent my whole life without any personal identity. Everyone knew me only as the son of Retired Commissioner Amjad Raza. Thus, whatever honour and respect I had in my life, had been gifted to me by someone else. But now, I was determined to have my own identity and with this new identity, I would once again face Maulvi Alimuddin. Having arrived at the railway station, I enquired about Javed Siddiqi. Luckily for me, he was still serving there at the same post. I stood for a while outside the station master's room and then gave to the peon a slip of paper bearing my name. A few minutes later, I was called inside the room. Mr. Javed Siddiqi was a white haired respectable looking man in his fifties with spectacles on his eyes and a ball point on an ear. He had a strong well-built body and was of medium height. His white hair had been properly parted from one side. Examining the files that lay before him, he looked towards me and said "So Mr. Hammad, you are Kamran's friend. What can I do for you?"

    "Sir, I am unemployed these days. I shall be extremely thankful to you if you arrange some job for me, even if it is on temporary basis."

    Mr. Siddiqi lifted his head in surprise and had a closer look at me.

    "So that's the matter. I thought you've come here in connection with some seat reservation. But from your appearance you seem to be an educated boy. How can I find a suitable job for you here? What's your qualification?"

    At times, the higher education of a man becomes an obstacle in his way. People have sympathy for him but feel shy while giving him some job. I had already decided not to tell anyone about my educational career and my family background.

    "Sir, my qualification is barely nominal. You may give me any type of work to do. While coming here, I was very much hopeful that you would help me."

    Mr. Siddiqi had another scrutinizing look at me as if he did not believe in what I had said about my education. But he seemed to be an experienced man and did not have any further argumentation with me on this issue.

   "Can you lift the luggage?"

    "Yes sir."

   He rang the old hand bell lying on the table and his peon at once came into the room like the genie which appeared as soon as Aladdin rubbed his lamp on the ground.

    "Summon Ghafura," ordered Mr. Siddiqi.

   The peon nodded his head and soon returned accompanied by a middle aged man having a strong and healthy body and wearing the uniform of the coolies consisting of a rope on the shoulder, a red shirt and an iron badge on the hand. Before entering the room, Ghafura switched off the light to indicate that he had a great respect for Mr. Siddiqi. As soon as he entered the room, he said Salaam (The actual words of Salaam are "Assalamu Alaikum" which means "May peace be upon you." These are the words with which Muslims greet each other) to Mr. Siddiqi and stood respectfully in front of him.

    Mr. Siddiqi again raised his head and said, "Is the number of your workers complete?"

    "No sir. Sallu's son who had pneumonia last month hasn't yet joined his duty. Besides him, there are a couple of other corrupt workers who are always on leave. I've prepared their papers and tomorrow, you will get complaint against them."

    Later on, I came to know that Ghafura was the labour in charge of the dry port at the railway station. Mr. Siddiqi decided that I should work temporarily under Ghafura, because in order to work permanently as a coolie, I required departmental permission, which was a long process. However, Mr. Siddiqi was authorized to include my name in the list of temporary labourers or coolies who were working on daily wages.

    "Ghafuray, this is Hammad. From today, he will work under you. For the time being, I've recruited him on temporary basis. After seeing his performance, we'll decide whether to issue a permanent permit for him or not."

    In astonishment, Ghafura observed me from head to heels. Perhaps, there was something written on my face which was not allowing him and his boss to mentally accept me as a labourer. Perhaps, life long prosperity gives a particular shine to our face or writes something on it, which is hard to remove.

   While I was about to go, Mr. Siddiqi told me that I could come to him at any time, in case I had some problem. I informed him that I was alone and had no place to live. He instructed Ghafura to tell the peons of the third class waiting-room that for the time being I would be sleeping there at night. Moreover, it was summer season and the nights could also be spent on the platform. First of all, Ghafura brought out my uniform from the store and gave it to me. The first number of my new identity was also allotted to me. It was Hammad labourer #137,. At that place, labourers were not called by their names but by their numbers. I was not Hammad. Instead, I had become labourer #137. In one sense, it was a good thing because, my actual name did not bear any semblance with the names of other labourers. If it had not been necessary to submit my identity card, I might have changed my name as well.

    Every railway station has its own world, its own morning and evening. Till then, I had always traveled by air. My experience of travelling by trains was limited to London and other European cities. Inside my own country, I had not properly seen even a single railway station. But what an irony of fate it was that I was standing as a labourer at the railway station of my own city.

    Unlike the ordinary coolies, the coolies of the dry port had no concern with the passenger trains. They were mainly required to unload the goods from goods trains. A short while ago on that day, a goods train had arrived at platform 2. After the clarification of all the details, Ghafura patted me on my back and said, "Young man, start your labour now. God will help you."

   Like other labourers, I also began unloading the cargo. It was for the first time in my life that I understood the real meaning of weight and how the whole body pains while lifting heavy weight. I became exhausted only in two rounds. Ghafura who was keenly observing me, called me and as I went near him he smiled and said, "Why young man, it seems as if you've never lifted anything heavy in your life."

   "No, I'm not habitual of such things, but don't worry, I'll complete the work of my share."

    Ghafura held my hands, had a close look at my palms and said "Dear friend, Ghafura's eyes can never tell a lie. These hands have been made for holding pens and papers. Why have you come here to spoil your youth? Go away from here otherwise, one day, your life will also be ruined like ours while lifting these heavy things. Have some mercy on your youthful beauty.

    With a smile, I pulled back my hands and resumed my work. How could he know that all of my youthful beauty had already been burnt to ashes by the spark of the first glimpse of that charming lady? Now, only some faint smoke was rising from my heart as a last reminder of that fire. This smoke would also vanish as soon as this fire is over.

 

     CHAPTER 15

      SLEEP

For a long time, I lay tossing in my bed at night, thinking about the anti-Muslim slogans written on the blackboard. Without any genuine reason, people have associated sleep with the shutting of eyes. A person can remain awake throughout his life, with his eyes shut all the time. In the same way, there are a large number of people in the world who are always asleep while their eyes are open. Perhaps, the fact is that what we regard as sleep, is not sleep at all, because, sleep is related to the peace of our mind and heart, and not to the shutting of our eyes. It appeared to me as if for centuries, I had only been shutting my eyes, without ever being able to sleep.

    The next morning, Kamran dropped me at the University. While we were in the parking, we saw Sarah coming out of her white Battle Car. Kamran was fully attentive towards her, who was looking extremely beautiful in her blue skirt and high necked white sweater. He whistled and said, "Medi dear, you never told me that such beauties also come to your university. When is your next semester going to start? Today, I'm very much ashamed of my ignorance."

   "Don't try to be so smart. This is the same Jewess who is deadly against me and thus, there's no need for you to be so much interested in her. She's bitterly against the Muslims."

    But Kamran remained defiant and acting in accordance with his old habit, he described her as similar to a famous Hollywood actress. He had always been in the habit of finding similarities in the facial features of smart people and well-known actors and actresses. Whenever he could find such a similarity, he started calling that person by the name of that actor or actress.

Kamran heaved a deep sight and spoke "No problem my dear if she is a Jewess. Jews are also included among the People of the Book. She seems to me just like Salma Hike. Having hostilities with such a pretty girl is of no use. I withdraw my old suggestion and strongly recommend that you should have friendship with her."

   With a great deal of difficulty, I sent him back. In the meantime, Sarah had also got down from the car and was busy talking to another student. While driving past her, Kamran tried to be as near as possible to Sarah but she did not take any particular notice of his action. As I was going forward carrying my bag, Sarah called me from behind.

   "Mr. Hammad, wait a minute please."

    As I halted, Sarah quickly came to me, properly arranging her untied hair which could be seen fluttering in the air.

   "Rebecca gave me your message. Throughout my life, I've never felt the need for giving explanations of my actions to anyone. But at the same time, I've never allowed anyone to accuse me of something done by others. I didn't write all that on the blackboard. In fact, I've no need to write such things, because, I express my views quite openly and have the full courage to do so."

    "Then how should I interpret your explanation? Are you advocating on behalf of your friends? Of course, it must have been done by one of them."

    "No, I'm not advocating on behalf of anyone of them because, truth needs no advocates."

   "But truth does require some solid arguments and proofs; and those who don't have these things vent out their fury and frustration by doing such childish things."

   Sarah looked attentively towards me and spoke in a rather harsh tone. "I don't know about others but as far as I'm concerned, I've got thousands of arguments to support my viewpoint. But I don't want to waste my time as well as yours in explaining these arguments for proving the truth."

   In reply, I informed her of my decision. "If one of us succeeds in convincing the other about his or her truth, the other one will follow his or her path. Do you agree?"

    Sarah was startled and as she looked towards me, she saw the challenge hidden in my eyes. "I agree and I'll be extremely happy to defeat you."

   "Only the coming time will decide it. Best of luck."

   Sarah and I started walking in opposite directions. If someone could see us from a distance, he might have concluded that we were the two arrows shot from the same bow at the same time in two opposite directions.

    On that day, members of Sarah's gang made a number of satirical remarks intended for me but I remained silent. Rebecca was a close friend of Sarah, but for some unknown reason, after that day, she started sitting with me on the same desk. Two students could sit on each of the desks placed in the classroom but since the beginning of the classes till that day, I used to sit alone on my desk. Apparently, Rebecca was a lively, energetic, noisy, vivacious and hilarious girl, always clad in jeans and jacket and always chewing gums. She was full of fun and activity and looked like a carefree butterfly. While walking, when she moved her boy cut hair, it was enough to quicken the heartbeats of all the young boys standing around her. But when she started sitting with me on the same desk, I realized that she had as much interest in her studies as in her frivolous and coquettish activities.

   A boy named Jim, who was apparently a Jew, was the leader of Sarah's gang. Tina was another active member of their group. Thus, it was a gang of four, consisting of Sarah, Jim, David and Tina. In fact, the whole gang acted upon Sarah's instructions. One day, during the break, when Jim made some cartoons and wrote some funny sentences to amuse the students, I at once judged from his writing that it was he who had written those anti-Muslim sentences on the blackboard. However, after that day, no one attempted to write such words again on the blackboard. But I knew very well that the lava was boiling beneath this apparent calm. On the third day, it was announced that an inter-departmental speech competition was going to be held at the University and all the students who were interested in the competition were told to submit their names. Rebecca who was in a mischievous mood, raised my hand in the class, although at that time, I was busy writing something. This action of Rebecca was strongly disapproved by Sarah who glared at her angrily. Anyhow, my name had now been included in the list of speakers.

    That day, the university's central hall was jam-packed with audience. The mayor of London had been specially invited on that occasion. In her black coat and scarf and with her neatly tied hair, Sarah looked like a school girl as she came on the stage to make her speech. She spoke forcefully in support of the Jewish claim that more than five million Jews were killed by the Nazis during the Second World War. This mass murder of the Jews is remembered as holocaust. She gave a number of arguments to prove this hypothesis. Till that time, I did not have much information about the holocaust and while Sarah was speaking, I was thinking of discussing this matter with Joseph, who had a considerable knowledge of the Jewish history. After Sarah, it was my turn to speak and as I walked towards the rostrum, silence prevailed in the hall. This silence was disrupted only by Rebecca's clapping. The topic given to me for the speech was "Inter-religion debate". After thanking Mr. president, I addressed the audience. Sir Isaac was sitting in the front row of the audience.

    "Worthy audience, I believe that inter-religion dialogue is the greatest need of our time. No religion of the world allows its followers to show prejudice against the followers of other faiths. It is true that those who were at the height of their glory in the past, are now passing through a period of decline and degradation due to their own lapses and are being subjected to religious prejudice and isolation. There is a confrontational atmosphere between religion and science.

   Why is it that in Physics, quantum theory is accepted as a reality while Prophet Muhammad's nocturnal trip to the heavens, which is the greatest evidence of the journey of light, is rejected? All the people are interested in the stories of time machines and travelling into the future. All such inventions are being eagerly anticipated. But why do such people refuse to believe the story of a person who travelled to the seven heavens with the speed of light and then returned safely to tell what he had seen and heard there? Those who drop atom bombs in their fanaticism of victory and superiority, are described as civilized people but those who had nothing in their hands but stones to defend their homes, are called terrorists. Why is it so? I want the answers to all such questions from the representatives of the new generation who are present here."

    Charged with emotions, I continued to speak until at last, the stage secretary rang the bell to indicate that the allotted time of seven minutes had come to an end and I had to leave the rostrum. After expressing my thanks, I came down. For a moment, it appeared as if the entire hall had been spellbound. Then, Rebecca stood up and started clapping and gradually, she was joined by others. While standing on the stage and coming down, I had noticed that sir Isaac was absorbed in some deep thought. Feelings of calm and surprise were visible on Sarah's face and I realized that she knew the art of concealing her feelings.

    At the end of the function, I came out of the hall and while I was passing through the corridor, Rebecca who was out of breath, came running to me from somewhere and warmly shook hands with me.

   "Great Medi great! I had raised your hand in the class only casually, without knowing that you're an excellent speaker, in spite of the fact that you often remain quiet. Admit it or not, but the fact is that everyone in the hall was stunned by your speech. Listeners were compelled to believe whatever you were saying because, you had strong and solid arguments to prove the truth of your points."

    With a smile, I acknowledged and appreciated the joy of that lively girl. "I don't know how and from where I got all these logical arguments. I've never been a particularly religious person. Moreover, I didn't make any preparation for the speech."

   "I know that all the speakers were given their topics on the spot and they were required to speak extemporaneously. Anyway, you carried the day. Let's go to the cafeteria and have some hot coffee to celebrate the occasion."

    It was Rebecca's habit that whenever she said something to someone, she went forward, without listening to the reply. I took a long breath and followed her because I knew that the time required for arguing with her would be much more than the time needed for gulping down a mug of coffee.

    Apparently, the atmosphere was quite peaceful at the University but I did not know that in a few weeks time my speech would become the cause of many violent storms. Kamran had rightly said that I had come to the notice of the Jews, though I was quite unaware of it.

CHAPTER 16

      GOD AND LOVE

I had been working as a labourer at the railway station for a week. Since my hands were not accustomed to such manual labour, there was a severe swelling in them on the very first night. But with the passage of time, the swelling began to disappear. Ghafura was taking care of me as much as possible. I remained at some distance from other labourers who had their own little joys and sorrows. They regarded me as an educated person and, therefore, they did not consider me to be one of them. As I seemed to be an educated young man, Ghafura used to call me Babu (The word Babu is generally used for smartly dressed educated modern young men).

    I was spending my days working as a labourer at the railway station while my nights were being spent at the platform or on the benches of the waiting room. During those days, I had a strong realization that without any reason, we have turned our life into a great trouble for ourselves. If a person wishes, he can easily spend his life with two sets of clothes. I was Hammad Amjad Raza whose dresses were prepared in the finest boutiques of London. At times, I used to throw away the most precious dresses if they did not have proper cuff links or matching tie pins. If I wore a dress at one social gathering, I never liked to wear it again on some other occasion. But now, the same Hammad was quite comfortably spending his life in one uniform and one set of trousers and shirt. The uniform was officially washed every other day and in just five rupees, I could get my suit washed from the laundry of the railway station.

    There was a time, when my breakfast remained incomplete without continental, English or Arabian ingredients. If at times, I did not find the French corn flax and Egyptian honey on the breakfast table, I would angrily leave the table without having breakfast. But now, my breakfast consisted of a cup of strong tea, bun and butter got from the cabin of the platform. Fresh strawberry shake was now replaced by sugarcane juice. Instead of having my lunch and dinner at five-star hotels, I used to go to the oven of the platform hotel for eating simple bread and broth. Quite surprisingly, after the first two or three days, I did not feel any particular difference in these things. In those days, I had a strong realization that human beings have put their life into unnecessary troubles and difficulties. This is especially the case with rich people like me. Our false pride, self- liking self-importance and self-esteem are nothing but a continuous torture for us.

   In this process I also came to know how most people spend their days and nights. There are many people who spend 12 out of 24 hours of a day and night in sleeping. Out of the remaining 12 hours, six hours are devoted to the worldly worries such as those related to the office, business, trade and other forms of employment. From the remaining six hours, if we exclude two or three hours which we spend in eating or visiting our friends and relatives, it means that we hardly spend only two or three hours in 24 hours for ourselves. What is the need for so much tension, dishonesty and hectic struggle for the sake of only two or three hours? If a person starts running after higher status and higher standard of living, there can be no limit to such things. He may be spending a very comfortable and luxurious life but he will surely come across those people whose life is more comfortable and more luxurious than his own. But the fact is that from an emperor to a beggar, everyone has got only 24 hours at his disposal and the whole problem is how to pass these 24 hours? He may spend this time in the agonizing restlessness of having the best of the best, or in a state of contentment and patient resignation at whatever he has got in his life. He may spend the whole day in complaining or in expressing his gratitude to God. Whatever he does, time never stops and continues to pass.

    Almost daily, life was teaching me new lessons or perhaps, I had started comprehending the realities of life; perhaps, life was not so difficult for me because I was alone. Perhaps, relations become the main compulsion and obstacle in a person's life. Demands of relations force him to become ungrateful and to join the race for getting best of the best. If everyone in the world had been alone, life might not have been so difficult and burdensome for him. Husband, wife, children, grand children and all other human relationships drive a person into a dangerous quagmire.

   I had been working at the dry port of the railway station for a week. It was Thursday and I had an evening off. After informing Ghafura, I came out of the railway station. Throughout the previous week, I had not seen even a single glimpse of the outside world. As I came out of the station, I felt myself as a new-comer in the city. I told a tonga driver to take me to the old [locality of the city where Maulvi Alimuddin lived with his family. Daily, we take a number of decisions and make plans about future. We decide to do something or visit someone on a particular day or date. But at times, it so happens that when time draws near for implementing these decisions, we feel our heart sinking. Of course, such decisions are very few in number. But it was exactly the case with me while I was going towards the Maulvi's house. I was thinking that in my new life style, I might be able to beg forgiveness from the Maulvi; or at least, I might be in a position to make a humble request to forgive me.

    At about five or five-thirty in the evening, the tonga dropped me at the gate of Maulvi Alimuddin's street. It was time for the Asr Prayer. With beating heart and heavy steps, I went up to the corner of the Maulvi's street but I no longer had the courage to go forward. The very idea of having another encounter with the Maulvi and once again entering the home of my sweetheart was enough for my whole body to perspire.

   As my heart beat quickened, I stepped forward into the street which had only a few houses. The whole street looked deserted at that time of the evening. For a long time, I stood near the wooden door of the Maulvi's house, trying to keep myself calm and composed. I could hear a soft feminine voice coming from inside the house. My heart leaped and I thought that it was perhaps Iman's voice. I gently knocked at the door. After the second knock, I heard the sound of footsteps coming towards the door. Then, someone asked "Who's there?"

   Of course, it was Iman's voice. How could I forget her soft melodious voice? For a moment, the earth and the sky seemed motionless. In reply, I wished to say something but due to my nervousness, I only made some incoherent sounds which forced Iman to ask my name again. By that time, Iman had come quite near to the door. Perhaps, all the visitors of the Maulvi strictly adhered to the etiquettes of knocking at the doors of others. Iman might be thinking that I was also one of those civilized people who stand at a distance of ten steps after knocking at the door and if they hear some feminine voice from inside, they turn away their face so that the ladies of the house may not have to look at a stranger's face. But how could an ignorant person like me know about such traditional etiquettes? It was for the first time in my life that I had knocked at someone's door in such a gentle manner. All of my friends, relatives and acquaintances had grand palace like residences. The gate keepers deployed at their gates always opened the gates before the blowing of the horn and my sports car speedily entered through the gate.

    Perhaps, Iman was of the view that I was also one of those civilized guests of her father who were fully aware of all the etiquettes of knocking at the door. She might have concluded that after hearing a feminine voice from inside the house, I must have gone a few steps away and, therefore, my voice could not be properly heard by her in the house. Perhaps, due to this very reason, when she came to the door, she slightly opened it to ask my name through the slit. But I was still standing near the door unable to speak and move. First of all, I saw her delicate and conical fingers at the tip of the door. She had properly covered her face with her head cover. As she slightly opened the door, she was dumbfounded. She could not imagine someone standing so near to the door. In confusion, I lifted my eyes and for a moment, my eyes had an encounter with hers. Her eyes resembled the eyes of a female deer and during that fleeting moment, I noticed in her eyes the same intensity and surprise which I had never seen in anyone else's eyes. The very next moment, she turned back and went away. In her utter confusion and nervousness, she had not even properly shut the door. I was also trying to recover my senses after being struck by the lightning of her eyes. After a while, Haya appeared at the door. First of all, she properly shut the door and then said Salaam to me through the narrow opening of the door. After responding to her Salaam, I told her that I had come to meet the Maulvi. She informed me that he was not feeling well at that time and, therefore, it would not be possible for me to see him.

    "You see, it is extremely important for me to meet him. I won't take much of his time. I wish to talk to him only for a few noments. Please!"

    In response, Haya remained silent but Iman, who had also arrived at the door, began to speak.

   "For God's sake, go away from here. With a great deal of difficulty, Father has been able to recover from that shock to some extent. If he sees you here, his condition may deteriorate again. I, therefore, request you not to come here again."

    I felt as if my heart had been stabbed or crushed under a heavy stone. But these innocent girls were not to blame for the matter. For the health of her noble father, every girl would give a similar suggestion. For a few moments, I was unable to say anything. Then, I mustered up my courage.

    "You see, I can very well imagine the anguish and agony of his heart but believe you me, I didn't have the least idea of what happened that day; otherwise, I would never have said anything about this matter to any member of my family. Anyhow, I was the cause of whatever happened that day and, therefore, it's my responsibility to make amends for that. Please don't deprive me of the opportunity to beg forgiveness from him. I implore you most humbly."

    "Such words are of no use now. Time itself will heal his wounds. But if you continue to appear before him again and again, he may never be able to forget this incident. I've no complaint to make against you. What is done cannot be undone and there is no use of crying over spilt milk now."

    Iman was justified in her arguments but these arguments would have been right for me if my only objective had been meeting the Maulvi for the last time and begging forgiveness from him. In that case, I could have waited for years till the healing of the Maulvi's wounds, in order to beg forgiveness from him. But my objective was of a much higher nature. After winning back his confidence, I intended to get the rare emerald that lay hidden in his house, whose single look had changed my whole life. Clinging to the door, both the sisters were waiting for me to go, while standing outside the door, I was thinking of some other way to gain entry into the house. I had a feeling that if I returned unsuccessfully that day, I might never be able to come here again. But as soon as I summoned up my courage for the last time and attempted to speak, I heard the Maulvi's voice coming from the veranda.

    "Who's there at the door?" he was asking his daughters.

    A prolonged silence prevailed in the house but in the meantime, another thing happened. With a rosary in his hands, Abdullah entered the street from the corner. Seeing me standing at his door, he was startled for a moment. But the very next moment, he recovered himself, came forward and shook hands with me.

   "You are here?"

   "Yes. I've come here to see the Maulvi."

    "It may not be appropriate for you to meet him now."

   "Please go inside and tell him about my coming. If he refuses to see me, I'll go back."

   After thinking something for a while, Abdullah nodded his head and then went in. Only my heart knows what an ordeal those few moments were for me. I felt as if after being condemned to death, I was standing on the scaffold waiting for the relatives of the murdered person to decide whether they would forgive me or order the executioner to pull the lever and bring an end to my life.

    I stood there waiting, as if for centuries. Finally, Abdullah came out and I looked towards him with hopeful eyes. He moved away from the door and said, "Come in please."

   My breathing became regular once again and with my head bent, I followed Abdullah and entered the house where she lived. Passing through the courtyard, we walked towards the drawingroom situated on the other side of the wooden grills adjacent to the veranda. As I sat down in the drawingroom, Abdullah went out and there was complete silence for the next few moments without any sound or movement.  As I looked around, I noticed that all the things in the room were lying in the same order in which I had seen them during my first visit. But what a hell of difference between the reception which I received during my first visit and which was now being given to me. So often, even the fortunes of the greatest men are turned upside down in a minute by time. After a short while, I heard the low coughing of the Maulvi at the door. I immediately sat down in an upright manner.

    Walking with the support of a stick, the Maulvi entered the room. It looked as if he had been sick for years. I stood up as a mark of respect for him, while he silently sat down on the sofa in front of me and responded to my Salaam in a low voice.

    For a while, complete silence prevailed in the room. I felt as if I had lost all my words and the Maulvi too sat without saying a word. At last, I broke the ice.

    "How do you feel now?"

    "I feel better now. Thanks be to Allah."

    "Can I hope to be forgiven by you today?"

    "Why to mention the past happenings again and again? Who am I to forgive the people? Allah alone has the power to forgive the human beings. I have forgotten everything. You should also forget it. Such things are not worth remembering for the high class people. Leave the low class people like us to our fate."

    Gradually, his tone was becoming quite bitter. It was his greatness that he was tolerating my presence in his house. Had it been someone else, I might have been driven away from the door.

    "I admit that whatever was done by the members of my family was a mean and deplorable act and a sin that cannot be compensated; but why are you annoyed with everyone?"

   The Maulvi's tone became bitterer.

    "Forget these things young man. All these things are the pastimes and routine enjoyments of aristocratic people like you. Poor people like us have got only a few precious things such as honour and self-respect, but you people rob us of these things as well."

    "Do you believe that my worst crime is that I'm the son of a rich father, born in a rich family? Is the richness of a person such a cardinal sin that no one should ever trust his good intentions? Please let me know through what type of test or trial shall I have to pass in order to prove my truth? I'm ready to do whatever you like to regain your trust and confidence. You are annoyed with my affluence. But this affluence is not my own. It has been given to me by others. On that day, you said that I haven't got my own identity. If it is the case, why are you punishing me for the identity given to me by others?"

    I became a bit emotional and said whatever came to my mind. With his bent head, the Maulvi sat silently for a while, perhaps contemplating on what I had just said. Then, he lifted his head and spoke.

    "If you are earnestly desirous of forgiveness and if you wish that the burden of what was said by the members of your family should be removed from my heart, you'll have to make a promise with me. From today, you'll have to forget forever, the way leading to this house, this house itself and the people living in it, for the sake of their honour and dignity. I've cool-mindedly listened to your words and accepted your apology. Now, you too will have to prove that you are really ashamed of the behaviour of your family. Can you make this commitment with me? Do you wish to win back your old trust?"

    For a while, I could not think of an appropriate answer. I felt that during the previous week, Shakir must have told something to the Maulvi about my wish, that is why, he had to make such a long preliminary statement before coming to the point. In other words, he knew that besides begging forgiveness, I had another far more important objective. I again mustered up my courage.

   "You see, on that day, you had said that I don't have my own identity and that, whatever I am, it is due to my dependence on others and due to their power and prestige. The very next day, I left that house and today, I've come to you with my own separate identity. Now, I've nothing to do with the wealth, power and splendour of that house. Currently, I'm working as an ordinary labourer. I'm an educated man and can easily earn my bread and butter. I can give you every guarantee even some others can give you this guarantee which will be entirely based on my own personality. My past identity will have no role to play in it and on the basis of my new identity, I wish to make a request to you."

    Signs of anger appeared on the Maulvi's face but with a great deal of difficulty, he controlled himself and began to speak.

    "Before repeating something, keep it in your mind that I've still got some honour and respect which may be shattered by your request. Whatever you are thinking is totally impossible."

    While going towards the Maulvi's house from the railway station, I had not thought even for a single moment that I would have to say the final word in this connection that very evening, but the decisive tone of the Maulvi's words was indicating beyond any doubt that he wanted to settle the matter then and there. For a moment, both of us remained silent but at last, I broke the silence.

    "I had thought of sending some elderly person for the final settlement of this issue. Besides the members of my family, there are some other people as well, who could convey my request to you. But it seems that you have already made the final decision. Please tell me what is lacking in me? I've already thrown away the disdainful mark of my wealth and affluence. In addition to this, if I've got some other short coming or flaw, I'll definitely try to remove it. At least, there must be some reason for rejecting me in such a manner."

    The Maulvi was no longer in control of himself. He angrily stood up and shouted,

    "That's enough! Stop it now! Why are you bent upon defaming us? What would the people say? They would say that Maulvi Alim married his daughter into the same house where he used to go for teaching a child. The whole world would point fingers at us. Do you wish that with our own actions, we should prove the truth of the accusations which were brought against me and my daughters by the members of your family? No my dear no. Have some mercy on us."

   "It means that you are only afraid of what others would say. But suppose, if instead of misbehaving with you, the members of my family had come to your with this marriage proposal, for the sake of my happiness, would you have accepted it?"

   "No, never. We are no match for you. You've been trained and brought up in an entirely different environment. What you describe as love is regarded by us as a sin. I'm already a sinful man. Don't make me more sinful. Our daughters are not married into those families whose members have not offered their prayers for years. These are the families whose youngsters hardly know about the first and second Kalimas (A Kalima is a holy sentence taught by the Holy Prophet to his followers, to be repeated by them for receiving Allah's blessings. There are six such Kalimas or holy sentences which are generally taught to the Muslims in their childhood) and are quite ignorant of the remaining four Kalimas. In such families, the Quran is only considered to be a book which should be placed in a decorative manner in the shelf. You have also been trained in a similar family where men and women openly mix up with each other. If a person leaves his house, it doesn't mean that his mentality has changed or that the effects of his training have disappeared from his personality. I don't want to destroy my future generations. It's time for my Prayer, let me go."

    He angrily left the room without hearing my reply. After his departure, Abdullah entered the room, carrying the tea tray. I told him that I wanted to go but he hurriedly poured some tea into a cup for me. With an unwilling heart, I had a few draughts of tea. As I came out of the house, Abdullah also came with me, into the street to say good-bye. At last, he shook hands with me and spoke:

   "Please don't mind the words of my uncle, because, at that time, he was a bit out of control. For this very reason, I had told you that it would be better not to meet him in this condition. Anyhow, whatever happened, forget it. The other day, I was told by Uncle Shakir that you've left your home. I advise you to return home. Parents have a very high place in our religion and it's not good to remain annoyed with them for such a long time."  

   I could hear the Azans for the Maghrib Prayer. After bidding farewell to me outside his street, Abdullah went towards the mosque but violent storms were blowing in my mind and I could not even properly say good-bye to him. I did not know where I was going at that time. The Maulvi's words were piercing into my ears like molten lead. Is love really a sin? If love is a sin, why was it giving me joy and peace instead of restlessness? I believed that the class difference was the main cause of the Maulvi's refusal. But the actual situation turned out to be quite different. Religion and love were at war with each other and love was being kicked away by religion. I was thinking that if I had learnt the six Kalimas by heart, worn religious dress and requested the Maulvi to allow me to marry his daughter, why should I have become acceptable to him in that case? If I was a bit away from religion, was it my own fault? My love for Iman was still intact and was as pure as that love which has the element of religion in it. It is true that on account of my upbringing and training, I had not been able to become a particularly good Muslim. But what was its connection with my love? I was still engrossed in such thoughts when I arrived back at the railway station. It was night time and the night mail had also gone. Like my heart, the platform looked deserted and desolate. A few cabins were still open. I silently went towards a bench and sat there. I had never thought that my distance from religion would one day make me and my love so inferior. I was considering myself to be a very humble and low person. The Maulvi's words had snatched away from me the pride of my love. In the ominous silence of the night I felt myself to be the loneliest person in the world.

CHAPTER 17

      THREE PHASES OF LOVE

My speech at the University had made me quite popular among the students. It is said that if a person is controversial it is a great sign of his popularity. It was yet to be decided whether I was more popular or more controversial.

    On the next day, during the Humaneering class, sir Isaac invited us to express our views about love. Rebecca was of the opinion that love is like a bottle of Fanta which we should continue to drink till the very end of the bottle. Jim remarked that love is a body which must be attained to quench the thirst. Tina was of the view that love is like the clothes hanging in the wardrobe. One wishes to wear new and different clothes daily. According to Sarah, love is nothing but the other name of the change of hormones in the body. This change is non-permanent. When hormones return to their old permanent place, love is gone.

   Some naughty fellow sitting at the back benches remarked that by the time, the hormones return to their original place, the two lovers have got married. On hearing this comment, the whole class burst into laughters.

   Then sir Isaac looked towards me.

   "Mr. Hammad, what's your viewpoint about love?"

   "I believe that love descends upon man like the different phases of a day."

    "Oh really? Would you like to describe these different phases of love to the whole class?"

   "The first phase of love always brings pain, suffering and severe thirst. This is the time when your beloved is away from you and your feelings are confined to you. The agony of one-sided love creates in you the feeling that you are walking on a path full of thorns. Then comes the expression of love and if luckily, this expression is crowned with acceptance; it marks the beginning of the second phase of love. In this stage, love brings calm and peace and appears like a tall shady tree. Even the scorching heat seems cool and the arid desert is transformed into an oasis. The stagnant water of this oasis looks like sweet fresh water, gushing forth from the fountains.

    "Suddenly, I heard Rebecca's voice from far away, although she was sitting beside me.

   "What happens in the third phase of love?"

   "There are only a few fortunate people who successfully pass through the first two phases of love and enter the third and final phase. The sense of pain, suffering and thirst in this phase of love is much more severe and intense than that of the first phase. But this thirst is the thirst of achievement."

    "The thirst of achievement? What type of thirst is it?" asked Sarah quite spontaneously; though later on, she must have regretted at her question.

   "Yes, it is the thirst of achievement. When the river of the water of eternal life is flowing in front of you, would you like to drink only a drop or two? Of course not. The thirst of achievement is much more intense than the thirst of separation and if someone has got this type of thirst, meetings become more painful than partings. But alas, our limited life does not allow us to fully satisfy ourselves with this river. We can hardly gulp down a few draughts, when it is time to go."

    Silence prevailed in the whole class but perhaps, Jim did not like the attentive manner in which all the students were listening to me. In order to diffuse the impact of my words, he spoke in a taunting manner:

   "Very fine. But also tell us about the final outcome after passing through this third phase of love"

    "With a smile, I looked towards Jim and said,"The final outcome or end of love is no more different from the end of the three phases of a day. At the end of each day, there comes the evening and same is the case with love. It too has its evening after the passage of its three phases. It is a calm, quiet and beautiful evening."

   The rapturous applause and banging of desks made a huge noise. The most excited among all was Rebecca. Sarah was silently looking towards me.

    Previously, there had been a strange type of distance between me and the rest of the students. But this incident changed the whole atmosphere for me. From now onwards, all the boys and girls began welcoming me in the morning and bidding farewell to me in the afternoon, in a very warm and cheerful manner, exactly as they had been doing it among themselves. Kamran was extremely delighted at this achievement of mine. One evening, to celebrate the occasion, he took me to a large cinema hall in Central London. The building had several halls and a different movie was being shown in each hall. It was a cowboy type of movie and to make the matters worse, Kamran continued his running commentary throughout the show. He had already scene the movie ten times and had learnt by heart all its dialogues. Before the start of each scene, he thought it to be his duty to tell me its complete summary. At last, I became fed up with his behaviour, I threatened to go out of the cinema; and this made him silent. But by that time, the movie had ended. Since his childhood, he had been behaving in the same manner. At times, while we were in school, we used to slip away from the classes to see the morning show at the famous Regal Cinema of Quetta. But on each such occasion, as soon as we entered the cinema, we came to know that Mr. Kamran had already seen that movie about the great deeds of Tarzan or Sindbad. We then used to realize that he had come to the cinema only with the intention of boring all of us who had slipped away from the school. At last, we found a solution to the problem. While going to the cinema, we started taking with us a large, white coloured roll of surgical tape. It was made of cloth and as soon as Kamran began chattering, we would at once wrap the whole roll of the tape on his mouth.

   While we were going back home from the cinema that night, we recalled those pleasant memories associated with the good old days of our childhood and laughed heartily. The snow removing machine had gathered small heaps of snow on the road sides. A faint smoke could be seen rising out of these heaps of snow. A few cars could be seen raising steam on the wet shining roads. Clinging together, arms in arms, the couples who had just come out of the cinema after watching the late night show were whispering romantically to each other, while walking on the footpath on their way back home.

    In the meantime, a car crossed us and then halted at some distance ahead of us. The very next moment, it turned back and stopped near us. From inside the car, Rebecca showed her head and warmly waved her hand.

    "Hi Medi, what a strange coincidence! Come on, do join us."

    Inside the car, besides Rebecca, another two class fellows of mine were also sitting. One of them was Rebecca's cousin. It was something that I did not previously know.

    "Thank you Rebecca. But today, we're in the mood of walking on foot. Kamran glared angrily and nudged me. Rejecting any offer of a beautiful girl was something that could not be found in Kamran's dictionary. Moreover, Rebecca continued to insist and we had to get into the car. Rebecca's cousin stopped the car near an open air road side restaurant at some distance. At the back of the restaurant, there flowed river Thames and one could see the reflection of its sparkling water and hear the sound of its flowing. They ordered the coffee while Kamran started informing Rebecca and my other two classes about palmistry and about the mysteries hidden in the lines on the palms of hands. I knew very well that he was looking at the hands of the boys in the hope that afterwards, he would get a chance to hold the girl's hand. It was his old trick and on several occasions, he had been highly successful in it. With a great deal of concentration, both the boys were showing their hands to him while I went towards an iron fence at the last end of the cement floor. Across the fence, there was a vast depth stretching far away. Standing there, I could see the steamers and small ships passing from under the bridge on river Thames. At that hour of the night, they were shining like fireflies. For a long time, I stood there watching the reflection of these shining lights in the flowing water. When I turned back, I found Rebecca looking attentively towards me.

    "Why is it that whenever I meet you, I feel that I'm meeting a new man?"

    "The fact is that every human being is wrapped up in several layers like an onion. The more you peel, the more layers you discover. Now, it's up to the peeler to discover as many layers as he can."

    "No, discovering you is much more difficult than discovering an ordinary human being. That day, while you were describing different phases of love, I felt as if I had come to know of love for the first time in my life. In fact, since that day, the whole class has been thinking about these new aspects of love. You have shown a new face of love to all of us."

    "The face is not new. Previously, it had only remained somewhat hidden from your eyes. Love is an idea or theory and all of us watch it through our own spectacles."

    She was keenly observing me. "Have you ever loved someone?"

Then, she herself discarded her own question.

    "No no. It's quite useless to ask such a question from you. The person who has such a deep understanding of love, must have passed through this experience. Tell me, how did you feel about love?"

    "Love proved to me like the rusted guillotine which cuts off the head placed under it, but does not completely detach it from the body. The body continues to writhe and twist in pain and the person dies after undergoing immense agony and suffering. But by the time he dies, the nearby walls are smeared with his blood as a mark of love."

    Rebecca shut her eyes. "Oh Medi, such a painful and agonizing love? But how have you been able to remain alive after all that?"

    "If you really love someone, why to be afraid of the agony, miss Rebi?"

    With a smile, I called her by the name which was used by the whole class for calling her. For a while, Rebecca looked attentively towards me and then spoke:

    "Didn't I say that every dimension of your personality is new? Do you know why I annoyed all my old friends including Sarah and started sitting with you on the same desk?

    I looked towards her inquisitively.

    "I had been watching you for a long time that morning when those absurd slogans were written on the blackboard I observed how you remained calm and composed while accepting the challenge. I saw a solid determination in your eyes. This determination is visible only on the faces of those who have the courage to take a firm stand against the whole world. Since childhood, I have been inspired by dashing, daring and determined people. I found you quite different from the rest of the students, and therefore, I decided to sit with you. Every passing day is proving that I had made the right choice."

    In the meantime, Kamran who had been making bad faces while watching me and Rebecca standing together for a long time, lost his patience and started calling us loudly. It appeared as if Rebecca wanted to say something else but we had to cut short our discussion and walk towards the table in order to have our coffee before it might cool down.

CHAPTER 18

      LOVE AND GOD

The whole inside of mine had been shocked and jolted by what the Maulvi had said that evening. Previously, I had thought that I had obtained the identity which I needed for achieving my love, but on that day, I came to know that I had lost even my previous identity.

    In the meantime, I continued to pay occasional visits to the old Haveli, in order to meet Shakir, who used to inform me of what was going on at my home which I had left. Perhaps, the members of my family had reconciled themselves to the idea of my absence. The thought of the rebels must be removed from the minds and hearts of other people as soon as possible, otherwise, their rebellious germs may start infecting them. No one could know this fact better than the Commissioner. He, therefore, banned even the mentioning of my name in the house. He believed that I must have gone to Kamran in London. I had left my home a month ago and since then, no one there had got any information about my whereabouts. Quetta was not a large city and thus, I could not stay with a friend in that city for such a long time, without the knowledge of my family. Ibad had gone in search of me to each and every friend of mine but in vain. He too might have concluded that I must have left the city and gone somewhere else. No member of my family could have imagined that for the last four weeks, I had been working as a labourer at the railway station of the same city.

    Once, I had a meeting with Nighat at Shakir's house, but I could not ask her anything. One day, While I was about to go back from Shakir's house, finding me alone, she called me from behind. As I stopped, she silently came to me, stood there for a while and then, all of a sudden, burst into tears.

    "Brother, I can't see your miserable and pathetic condition. Love has virtually ruined you. The fault is mine. If I had not arranged your meeting with her, the whole thing would never----"She was choking with emotions and was unable to complete her sentence. My eyes were also filled with tears, but with a great deal of difficulty, I controlled myself, because, I knew that if at that time, I had started weeping, she would have started crying at the top of her voice as a child. I affectionately placed my hand on her head and patted her.

   "Niggy, should I tell you something?"

    Niggy eagerly looked towards me.

    "Yes."

     "As was the case in your childhood, you still look very ugly while weeping."

    For a while, she looked towards me in surprise, but when she understood my trick of stopping her weeping, she smiled. Then, she told me that after my meeting with the Maulvi, she had gone to his house twice in order to meet Iman. According to her, the Maulvi was feeling much better now. She informed me that she had told Iman about my leaving the family and about my present wretched condition. As she was narrating the whole story Iman remained silent and as usual, went on scratching the carpet on the floor with the nails of her feet. However, Haya could not control herself and she began to weep. The only thing which Iman said to Nighat was that she should ask me to give up my obstinacy and go back home. Thus, after centuries, she sent me a message consisting of a few words. But those few words were also a source of consolation for me. At least, she had remembered me and said something about me. With tears in her eyes, Nighat touched my hands full of swelling. I had to tell her that I was working as a coolie at the railway station. But at the same time, I got a solemn promise from her that she would not tell it to any member of her or my family. Shakir had never tried to go after me to know where I lived, because, he knew that I myself would tell him everything at some appropriate time.

    From my pocket, I brought out two pearls which had till then been reminding me of Iman's presence even in her absence. They were the same pearls which I had found after my meeting with Iman in the study of the old Haveli. Since then, it had become my routine that whenever I felt terribly sad, lonely and exhausted or whenever I remembered her very much, after a whole day's manual labour, I would fall down on some hard easy chair in the waiting room, shut my eyes and place the pearls on my eyes. Within no time, I could feel their cool and refreshing sensation, passing through my shut eyes and penetrating into my soul. Then, I would imagine that Iman had come to me with her downcast and confused looks. Then, for hours and hours, we would talk together and spend the whole night in this dreamful atmosphere.

    Imagination and dreams are some of the greatest blessings of God. If they are snatched away from man, he will not be able to survive for a long time. He will be strangled to death by the suffocation of desires. We fulfil ninety per cent of our desires through dreams and imagination.

    Nighat looked at the two pearls in surprise and I narrated to him the whole story of these precious and rare gems. As I put the pearls on her palm I said,

    "Return these pearls to her and tell her that if fortune favours me, one day, she herself would give them back to me. Currently, I'm fighting not against the world but against destiny. Let's see who wins this battle."

    Nighat's eyes were still filled with tears. I left her standing there and came out.

    There come some moments in our life when we do not wish to see or talk to anyone. These are the moments when we even dislike talking to ourselves in our quiet loneliness. And only require perfect calm and peace and wish to go to that corner of the world where there is no one to see us, talk to us or ask questions from us.

    A similar condition prevailed on me that day, as I returned to the railway station after meeting Nighat. It was Friday. Quetta Express had just left the station and the rush of people there, was gradually decreasing. Sitting silently on a wooden bench under a mulberry tree at one end of the platform, I was carefully looking at the words "Western Railway" engraved on its old board. I was thinking that the things present around us must have seen the passage of several months and years; and must have witnessed all sorts of good and bad times. For instance, the wooden bench on which I was sitting, had been present at the same place for the last hundred years since the days of the British rule over India. It must have passed through numerous storms, summers, winters, rains and springs. On many occasions, along with other old things present around it, it must have made fun of humble people like me who sit on it and make boastful remarks and loud claims. It is absolutely true that man who often behaves in a proud and arrogant manner, is an utterly insignificant creature and does not know that he may perish at the very next moment. While I was pre-occupied with all such thoughts, I was startled when I heard someone clearing his throat quite near me. As I turned around, I saw a bright faced old man standing there and watching me quite attentively. Perhaps, he had just come there after performing ablution at a nearby tap. As I looked towards him, he smiled and began to speak.

    "I'm sorry gentleman. Perhaps, you were absorbed in some deep thoughts and I've disturbed you."

     To be honest, I was offended at his unnecessary interference but keeping in view his old age, I thought it better not to express my resentment. We the human beings are bound in numerous chains of traditions and customs. At times, it even seems difficult to breathe freely.

    "Yes sir. What can I do for you?"

   The old man smiled. "No my dear, I don't want you to do anything for me. I only wanted to remind you that it's almost time for the Friday Prayer and if you wish to make some preparation for it, hurry up."

    "Thank you very much. You go to the mosque please and I'll be coming soon. The mosque is towards this side."

    I wanted to get rid of him but he turned out to be a stubborn old man.

    "My dear, it's not appropriate to show someone the way to the mosque in such a manner. You should take the traveler with you to the very door of the mosque."

   I was outraged but I again controlled myself.

    "I'm sorry. I would surely have gone with you to the mosque. But at the moment, I'm thinking about some serious problems of my life. Please go to the mosque with someone else. I again apologize to you."

   "No problem my dear," said the old man with a smiling face and added, "I'll go to the mosque myself. But if you don't mind, may I relax here on the same bench for sometime. The Friday Sermon is to start in about half an hour's time."

   For a moment I thought to tell him quite frankly that the whole platform was empty and if he was so much interested in relaxing, he could go to some other bench. But then I thought that like me, he might also be a victim of loneliness and, therefore, if I allowed him to sit with me for sometime, it would do no harm to me. As far as I and my loneliness were concerned, we were age-old companions, perhaps, destined to remain together forever; and we could meet at any other time.

    I moved towards one side and created some room on the bench for him to sit. Wiping his hands and face with a sheet of cloth on his shoulders, the old man sat down beside me on the bench.

   "My Name is Rehmatullah. I'm going to Lahore where I live. I've to come here for a week or so, once in two or three months in connection with some press and publication work."

    "Then he stopped and looked towards me hoping that now, I would give my own introduction.

   In just one sentence, I introduced myself to him. "My name is Hammad and I'm working here as a coolie."

   "God bless you. Hardwork is a glorious virtue. I'm sorry to have disturbed you in your solitude. But the fact is that I was watching you sitting here for a long time. A particular shine on your forehead compelled me to talk to you."

    "What you describe as a particular shine on my forehead is actually the darkness of my fate. When darkness or blackness goes beyond certain limits, it also develops in itself a particular type of shine."

   The old man kept watching me in astonishment. "Glory be to Allah. What a wonderful thing you have said. The shine of darkness, wonderful. You seem to be an educated fellow."

    "I've blackened some pages. But everything has gone waste."

    "Knowledge never goes waste. I think you are not particularly interested in Prayers."

    "I believe that it's a matter of the heart. Sometimes, when my heart wishes, I offer my Prayers, otherwise, I don't do so."

    "My dear, the fact is that I offer Prayers only to record my attendance, while my heart is absorbed in some other worldly problems."

    "Then, what's the use of such an attendance? Isn't My absence better than it?"

    "Attendance is a must; otherwise, you won't be allowed to sit for the next examination. You know very well that you are permitted to sit in the examination hall on the basis of your attendance. The examiner will call you for the examination, only if your attendance is complete, to a certain extent. Otherwise, you would be failed without examination. I believe that if somehow or the other, I succeed in gaining entry to the examination of the world hereafter on the basis of my half-hearted attendance in this world, I would humbly request the Grand Examiner to award me at least 33 pass marks. It doesn't matter, if I fail in one or two subjects, in one way or the other, I'll get through the over all examination. But for this purpose, attendance is the most essential pre-requisite, whether this attendance is perfect or imperfect, sincere or hypocritical. But this attendance alone will enable me to present myself for the next examination. If attendance is short, there will be no chance for me to appear before the examiner; and without a chance of appearance in the examination, the whole game will be lost."

    Filled with amazement, I continued to hear Rehmatullah's speech. In a few and simple words, he had revealed a great truth. It is true that even the most incompetent, dullest and naughtiest students are given the opportunity to sit for the examination, if their attendance sheet is complete according to the prescribed standards of the examination. As far as their failure or success in the examination is concerned, it depends upon their fate and their performance. Moreover, the examiner may show leniency or mercy to him and award them 33 marks. But if the attendance sheet of a student is incomplete, he is considered to be one of the failed students without his appearance in the examination.

    "You're right. Seen in this context, attendance is really essential."

   Rehmatullah smiled to hear my words and spoke again. "Attendance in the Prayers is not something easy. Attending the five daily Prayers is extremely difficult, especially in the beginning when you are not habitual of it. Same was the case with me in the beginning. Somehow or the other, I managed to stand on the Prayer Mat but as soon as I would start the Prayer, I was obsessed with a strange type of restlessness and hurry and I used to have the feeling that in case I didn't immediately cut short my Prayer, I would lose millions of rupees. In those early days, I used to finish off all the Prayers in the same hasty and haphazard manner. At times, I even wrapped up the Prayers without bothering to think whether I had completed them or not. Quite interestingly, the moment I would finish the Prayer, all the hurry and scurry was gone. It appeared to me that the whole restlessness and hastiness that had caused such a massive stir in my blood, had only been due to the Prayer, because, after the completion of the Prayer, I could sit at the same place for several hours, without having any sensation of haste or impatience. However, as soon as I would again stand up for the next Prayer, the same process marked by hurry and flurry was repeated again. Even while offering the Prayers, my mind was completely pre-occupied with the thoughts of some woman, business or some other worldly pursuit. At times, my heart used to beet so violently during the Prayer that I had the feeling that if I continued the Prayer for a few more moments, my heart would leap out of my mouth."

    With an increasing sense of wonder, I was constantly looking towards him. Generally, people do not disclose such personal things to others, for fear that they may be doubtful of their religion. But this old man was joyfully narrating the tale of his sincere as well as hypocritical Prayers.

    "Let me tell you another very interesting thing. The mosque where I used to offer my Prayers had a front window that opened towards outside where there was a bazaar. If on certain occasions, I was fortunate enough to join the first row of worshippers, my eyes kept wandering in the bazaar outside the mosque throughout the Prayer. As a matter of fact, offering the Prayers was a tiresome and boring affair for me and quite unconsciously, my eyes often crossed the window into the street. To tell you the truth, this window proved to be of great help to me during the month of Ramadan. Whenever my friends forced me to attend the exceptionally long Taravi Prayers at night, I could easily spend the whole time looking outside the window."

    Mr. Rehmatullah was smiling while telling this story and I too began to smile with him. With a great deal of curiosity, I looked towards him. "And what about now? What do you feel now?"

    "With the passage of time, some sort of calm seems to be descending on my Prayers. But what to say of the Prayers offered by the people like me. I don't believe that they are of any particular worth or value because, It takes a lot of time to attain perfection, especially in religious matters. One man in several million is able to acquire this prestigious status. people like me manage to cross this river only by dint of their good intentions. Sometimes, the earnest prayers of somebody also prove helpful to us and we are able to reach some milestone, if not the final destination, because, there are only a few fortunate people who get to the final destination. When we people set out on our journey, we only have in our minds the idea of reaching the first milestone and even in this connection, we are not sure whether we would be able to reach this first milestone or not."

    I was listening to Mr. Rehmatullah's words with full attention and interest. Till then, I had regarded religion as something extremely difficult, but it was quite evident from his words that it was a much easier and simpler affair which was mainly dependent on good intentions. In the meantime, the Azan for the Friday Prayer began and quite unintentionally, I accompanied Mr. Rehmatullah to the gate of the mosque. Although he did not ask me to join him in the Prayer, yet it did not seem appropriate to return from the gate of the mosque without offering the Prayer. Like other people present in the mosque, I too performed ablution and stood up for the Prayer. It was perhaps the first prostration of my life which I had performed without any fear, external pressure, hurry, indifference or some selfish worldly motive.

   It was the first day of my life when I did not have any feeling of fear for religion and this first prostration of my life was full of calm, peace and tranquility.

   The mosque was adjacent to the station and after the Prayer, I stood outside the mosque waiting for Rehmatullah. Soon, he also came out and we returned to the platform where it was being announced on the loud speaker that due to some technical problem, the Lahore bound train was three hours late. Rehmatullah smiled. "Perhaps God wants us to remain together for some more time. If you don't mind, may I sit here with you on your favourite bench and wait for the train?"

   I was a bit ashamed. Perhaps, he still remembered my way of talking and my behaviour with him before the Prayer. I apologized to him for my earlier behaviour but he smiled.

    "Why to apologize my dear? Everyone has full right to enjoy his privacy. It is I who should apologize. Anyhow, leave this topic, because, at the moment, I'm terribly hungry. Let's eat something."

    He brought out a small iron Tiffin box from his luggage and despite my repeated refusal, forced me to join him in his simple lunch consisting of potatoes, pickles and Parathas. Quite eagerly, he had his lunch, drank water and thanked God. As he saw me eating without any particular interest, he gave me some advice.

    "However busy you may be, you must spare some time for eating. The fact is that the whole struggle of our life is for the sake of our regular meals. Had there been no question of eating, most people would have spent much of their time worshipping in the mosques. But we have been ordered to explore our means of sustenance. You may take only a few morsels of food, but whatever you eat, eat it sincerely as an act of worship, so that after eating, you may be able to thank God. This act of thanksgiving should not merely be confined to food. While using each and every blessing of God, consider it to be another opportunity of thanking God which He Himself has provided you."

    The words of that bright faced old man were a source of great surprise for me. I had never thought of this particular approach throughout my life. I always believed that my food, means of conveyance and all other comforts and luxuries of life were the outcome of the hardwork of my elders and I, therefore, had the full right to enjoy them and benefit from them. I had never considered such things to be the blessings of God, nor had I ever thought of expressing my gratitude to God for His blessings and gifts.

"Are you a preacher?" I asked him.

    He laughed loudly and said, "It means whatever I have said to you so far, is regarded by you as preaching. How strange it is. How can I become a preacher when I cannot remain hungry even for a few hours? In order to become a real preacher, you must have full control over your desires, only then, you get the right of preaching and teaching something to others. Furthermore, first of all, a preacher must himself act upon what he tells others to do; and you know it is not something so easy."

    Meanwhile, it was almost time for Mr. Rehmatullah's train to leave. The train had arrived at the platform and its siren was also being sounded intermittently. I assisted him in gathering his things and then picked up his suitcase, although he repeatedly told me not to do so. In order to bid farewell to him, I accompanied him to the compartment of the train. When he sat down on a seat near the window, I got down from the train and stood outside the window. As the train started with a jerking motion, he showed his head out from the window and gave the farewell kiss on my forehead.

   "I feel that you are desperately in search of something; and the intensity of your desire is constantly evident from your eyes. However, you seem to believe that religion is an obstacle in your way. But remember my dear Hammad that religion appears to be an obstacle and a source of fear, as long as you remain away from it. But as soon as you come closer to it, you feel that it is something quite harmless and friendly. Don't remain away from religion. Make it your friend. May you live a long and happy life."

    The train slowly started leaving the platform and I walked with it to the last end of the platform. Gradually, the bright faced old man who was waving hand to me, disappeared from my sight. But before his departure, in just one meeting, he had shown me several new angles of life.