Khuda Aur Mohaabat: English Novel!!. - Page 3

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.

Edited by jkff - 12 years ago

CHAPTER 19

     THE HOLOCAUST

    At last, after trying for several days, I got the opportunity of talking to Joseph on this topic. I began the discussion with a simple question. "What is meant by the concept of holocaust?"

    The moment he heard my question, he seemed frightened as if I had asked something quite unusual. He began to whisper as if we were sitting amidst a huge crowd, although at that time, as far as I could see, we were the only beings in the whole area surrounding the canal.

    "As long as you're here, don't try to ask this question from anyone. This topic is treated here like the forbidden tree."

   In amazement I looked towards this mysterious style of Joseph.

   "Why, what's so special about this topic? Don't you remember that Sarah gave several arguments in support of it during her speech? The how has it become a forbidden tree?"

    "Sarah is a Jewish girl and all her arguments were in favour of the holocaust. I was referring to the anti-holocaust arguments which are strictly banned here. I know you well. I'm sure that after coming to know of the actual reality of this idea, you'll discuss them with others and this is what I don't want."

    "It means you're also an opponent of this concept."

   "Not just me. There are a large number of people in the world who refuse to accept this hypothesis. But for the Jews, it is so sacred that not to speak of someone talking against it, they don't even tolerate someone thinking against it. They know well how to silence the opponents of the holocaust. Such people are imprisoned, expelled from the country or even silenced forever. Now, they've formulated a law by means of which opposing the holocaust has been formally banned."

    "In this modern age, how's it possible to restrict someone's speech or thinking? Moreover, these people claim to be the champions of the freedom of expression. But why did they forget this freedom of expression when they were formulating such autocratic laws?"

   "All of their claims about human rights and freedom of expression are their weapons which they use against other nations. Perhaps, you're still unaware of the fact that your speech at the University Hall must have upset many of them. It was for the first time in 130 years history of this university that someone openly spoke the truth on the stage in the presence of these people and they don't so easily forget such defiance; nor do they like it."

    "These people! These people! But who are these people? If they're so bold and courageous, why don't they openly challenge their enemies? But what the hell is this holocaust?"

    Joseph took a long breath. By this time, he had fully understood that I won't leave him unless he told me something about the holocaust. Thus, he began to speak in a low and subdued tone.

    Jews have always tried to accuse the Germans of most of the so-called atrocities which have ever been committed against them. First of all, they accused the German knight Randflash of committing the massacre of Jews in the 146 Jewish settlements in Germany in 1298. Then, as a part of this false propaganda, they claimed that as many as 200 Jewish settlements were destroyed in 1336. But the worst accusation came from the Jewish leader David Bengurion who claimed that during the Second World War, Hitler exterminated more than five million Jews in the gas chambers. Some people believe this number to be about six million. This mass murder of Jews is known as the holocaust."

   I was surprised at what I heard from Joseph. "But if Jews were killed in such large numbers, there must be some proof or record of their death; after all, the age of Hitler is not so old."

    "There's no proof of it and the fact is that those who try to find its proofs, are punished. Only last year, a professor of history in Australia named David Irving received three years prison sentence, only because, he refused to accept the idea of the genocide of Jews in the holocaust during the Second World War."

    "It's really astonishing. But what type of objectives did the Jews wish to achieve through this propaganda?

    "By means of this propaganda, they wanted to have a separate and independent Jewish state for their nation and their coming generations. During the Second World War, Britain and the United States had assured the Jewish leaders that at the end of the war, an independent Jewish state would be set up. This state finally came into being on the sacred land of Palestine. In this connection, even the then Soviet Union also extended full support to the Jews."

    Joseph recommended a number of books which could give me more detailed information about this topic. These books included "Were Six Million Jews Really Killed?" by Richard Harward, "The Drama of European Jews" by the French writer Paul Raucinier, "The Imposed War" by the American writer David Hogan and several other such books.

    It was indeed a most astonishing thing for me and I immediately started my search for these books in the relatively unknown libraries of the city because, they were not expected to be found in the main libraries. The more I read these books, the more secrets were revealed to me. I came to know that the propaganda of the holocaust was started after the First World War. All the allied troops were afraid of the German military might. The Jews who were playing a key role in the German weapons manufacturing industry, secretly conspired with Britain and the United States. They promised to support them on the condition that after the war, they would be allowed to set up their own separate independent state. The Germans lost the war due to the conspiracies of the Jews, who fully benefited from their propaganda about the holocaust. The allied countries extended full support to the Jews for permanently settling in Palestine and establishing the Jewish state of Israel. With the passage of time, the topic of holocaust was given the status of a sacred cow so that no one should say anything about it and no one might make any attempt to investigate into this matter. The most glaring reality revealed to me by all these books was that the word "Jew" is another name for conspiracy.

    Now, I was eagerly looking for an opportunity to shatter the pride of the Jews. Most humbly, Kamran requested me not to get involved in such things. But as a matter of fact, he was less concerned about me and more concerned about Sarah, who might get a negative impression about him, although till that time, she did not know his name and even his face. In just one week's time, I gained this opportunity. In the Humaneering class, sir Isaac told all the students to write term papers. There was no restriction on the choice of topics and anyone could choose any topic. However, it was necessary for all the students to tell about their selected topics beforehand. For this purpose, each student was required to mention his or her name along with the topic on the notice board. When the list of the names of all the students along with their selected topics was pasted on the notice board, everyone was flabbergasted to read that the topic which I had chosen for my term paper was holocaust. Within no time, the whole atmosphere of the University was filled with whispers and murmurs. As I came out of the library, I saw confused and worried Rebecca coming towards me. Without saying anything, she firmly clasped my hand and took me to a desolate corner of the corridor.

    "Medi, are you in your senses?"

    "Why, what strange thing have I done that has compelled you to ask me this question?"

    "You've decided to write your term paper on holocaust, despite knowing very well that it is a Jewish university and its entire administration consists of Jews. Please take back your decision. I beseech you. I fold my hands before you."

    She literally folded her white hands and I laughed at her style. "Don't worry, nothing's going to happen. If these people feel pride in making fun of other nations and religions, there must be someone to show them the mirror."

   "O Medi, you don't know how much worried I am about you. If something happens to you----."

    She became silent while talking and in amazement, I looked towards her who apparently seemed to be a carefree girl. At that moment, a number of colours appeared on her face and then disappeared. I had a feeling that the swan of love was once again spreading its wings somewhere in the distance.

      CHAPTER 20

     THE STONE HEARTED

Basically, I regarded religion as man's personal affair and was somewhat afraid of it. But I was able to overcome much of this fear as a result of my meeting with Mr. Rehmatullah at the railway station. I began to feel that religion can be discussed and debated with others and there is no harm in it.

    I did not know how he had come to know that I regarded religion as an obstacle in the way of my love. Quite astonishingly, that old man had probed into the very depth of my soul and jolted it. Anyhow, I could now see my way.

    In the meantime, I once went to Shakir's house and was told that he had gone to Islamabad with the Commissioner. Elections in the country were drawing near and quite naturally, my father had increased the number of his visits to the influential families. Nighat told me that she had given the pearls to Iman who sat silently for a long time with the pearls in her hands. She again advised Nighat to try to convince me that I should give up my obstinacy and return home, because, my whole struggle was nothing more than a wild goose chase. Nighat angrily asked her that if she did not have the least care for my feelings, why she was worried about my homelessness and my wretched life. Nighat further told her that she should not unnecessarily consider herself to be guilty in this matter because I was doing everything out of my own free will and, therefore, she should not blame herself for it. I was sad to think that these harsh words of Nighat must have shocked Iman. But Nighat told me that even if she had remained silent, Haya must have started quarrelling with her sister. Nighat herself was surprised to think about Haya's absolute trust in the sincerity of my love for her sister Iman and she did not consider me guilty in this matter. At that moment, my heart was filled with feelings of affectionate love for Haya. At least there was someone in that house who used to speak in my favour in the presence of Iman, secretly if not openly. It is said that if drops of rain continue to fall on a hard stone for a long time, they cause a hole in it. I was eager to know if the heart of that stone hearted Iman would also melt someday.

    I was well aware of the fact that Iman was one of those girls whose parents are in full possession of the keys to all the doors of their hearts. Their likes and dislikes are conditional to the likes and dislikes of their parents and all the ways leading to their hearts pass through the drawingroom of their parents. They open the doors of their heart only when someone is permitted to cross this drawingroom and come forward. Otherwise, all the doors and windows of their heart remain shut forever. But if a person is not granted an entry to their parents' drawingroom, they become deaf and completely indifferent to him, even if he fatally injures himself by banging his head against the walls. They are like that princess of the fairyland, who remains imprisoned in a palace whose huge gates are constantly guarded by a terrible dragon or powerful giant.

    But I had never had any doubts about the power of my love. Moreover, besides depending on this love and its power, I had no other option for passing the rest of my life. I knew that if this only valuable asset of my life was gone, it would mark the end of my life. Now, the only objective of my life was banging my head against this hard stone wall and trying to dig up a canal from a mountain not with the help of spades, hammers and other equipment, but with the help of my empty hands and weak nails. My nails had already been broken and my hands had already been badly bruised. But the stony mountain was firmly standing at its place with all its glory and splendour. However, even in these dismal circumstances, I was still in high spirits and continuing my hard labour somehow or the other. I was determined to carry on my struggle till my last breath.

    As a strange coincidence, during this hard journey on this difficult path, all those who met me, assisted me in one way or the other and made my journey easier. Shakir, Nighat, Mr. Siddiqi, Ghafura, Sufi Rehmatullah and all the others whom I met on my way, encouraged me and boosted my morale, somehow or the other.

    Rehmatullah had shown me a new path and I decided to tread on it. If in the Maulvi's opinion, religion was the only deficiency or flaw of my character, I had not till then, made any serious attempt to remove it. Generally, people go towards religion due to their love for religion but my case was somewhat different. I was advancing towards religion for the sake of my love. Mr. Rehmatullah had told me that only one man among millions of people succeeds in attaining perfection in religious matters and I thought that there was no harm in my joining those millions of people who may not acquire perfection but whose intentions are good. It is true that I was going to do everything in this connection in order to achieve Iman but even then, it was much better than surrendering and renouncing my love. I, therefore, decided to try this option as well.

    It was September, the month of approaching autumn and retreating summer. During the night shift at the railway station, a boy used to sell tea in the glasses fitted in an iron ring. The typical voice of that hawker, along with the sound of the rolling of a piece of iron in his hand could be heard throughout the station at night. His name was Babar and he was quite friendly to me. One night, I told him to wake me up at four-thirty in the morning. At exact four-thirty the next morning, he awakened me with his loud slogan of hot tea. For a long time, I had not had my bed tea and this desire of mine was also fulfilled that morning with the only difference that it was bench tea and not bed tea because, the hard wooden benches in the waitingroom had now become my bed. After having tea, I washed my face with water from a tap at the railway station. As I came out of the station, I saw a few tongas standing there with kerosene oil lanterns hanging on them. The tonga drivers were getting ready for their day's business. One of them was Khairu who came to me as I called him.

   "O Babu 137, where do you intend to go so early in the morning?"

    He always addressed me by the same name. I told him to take me to the old locality of the city and soon we were on our way. The roads and streets were silent and deserted and the whole city of Quetta seemed asleep. Within a short time, we crossed the Cold Road and reached the gate of the Maulvi's locality. When we arrived near the mosque, I told Khairu to stop there. He parked his tonga in one corner of the street and as usual, began listening to his single band radio. This particular habit of the drivers of tongas, rickshaws and taxis often surprised me. I used to notice that in all circumstances, they never forgot to hear the news on their radios. Later, whenever they got together, they used to discuss the various news items in such a way that they seemed to be sitting in the Parliament instead of the taxi or rickshaw stand. The way they listened to the news and commented on the news stories gave the impression that they were of the view that in case they did not perform this all-important duty, it would be a major loss for the country. On the contrary, most of those who reached the parliament, generally displayed that type of attitude which could be expected from the tonga drivers. While Khairu was tuning his radio in search of the news, I went into the mosque which at that time was almost empty. Gradually, worshippers began arriving and at last, Maulvi Alim entered the mosque and went to the place reserved for the Imam (Prayer leader). He led the Prayer consisting of two Rakats (a Rakat is one set of standing, genuflection and prostration).  At the end of the Prayer, as he lifted his hands for the prayer, he saw me and was almost stupefied. But then, he thought of something else and completed the prayer. One after the other, all the worshippers came out of the mosque. I too came out without saying anything to the Maulvi and told Khairu to take me back to the railway station. He looked towards me in astonishment.

    "How strange it is that you came so far only to offer your Prayer in this mosque. Have you made some sort of religious vow?"

    "You may think so."

    As Khairu drove his tonga, I was thinking that love is also a type of vow and there can be no vow greater than the vow of love.

   Afterwards, it became my daily routine to offer my Fajr (Early morning) and Isha (Late night) Prayers in the same mosque where Maulvi Alim was acting as Imam. As far as the Zohr, Asr and Maghrib Prayers were concerned, I had to offer them at the railway station during my duty hours.

    I had always regarded the offering of the Prayers as man's personal matter. I used to feel that the glory of the Prayer was damaged when it was offered by someone in the presence of other people because, in this way, it became a pretentious or showy affair. Due to this very reason, perhaps nobody might have seen me offering my Prayers at the railway station. Abdullah also noticed my presence in the mosque at the time of Fajr and Isha Prayers. But he was a unique and brilliant young man who always met me with a smiling face and I never found the signs of anger, sorrow or tension on his face, in spite of the fact that he knew very well that by daily coming to the mosque, I was fighting a cold war with the Maulvi. The bitterness of this cold war was gradually increasing on the Maulvi's face.

    Daily at night after the Isha Prayer, for about fifteen minutes, the Maulvi used to deliver a short lecture based on some problem or a saying of the Holy Prophet. Some people used to remain in the mosque after the Prayer, in order to hear this lecture. I was also included in the list of his regular listeners. These regular lessons were also attended by Abdullah who performed the additional duty of carrying the books of Hadeeth (Sayings of the Prophet) and Tafseer (Explanation and interpretation of the Holy Quran) from the shelf and taking them back to the shelf after the lecture. It seemed that the Maulvi had decided that he himself would never talk to me. Even then, whenever I said Salaam to him, he would respond to it and then go away with the same indifference and apathy. The same type of attitude can be expected from every gentle and respectable person.

   For the next few days, I continued to follow the same routine of offering my Fajr and Isha Prayers behind him and attending his regular lectures. Sometimes during the lecture, someone from the listeners would ask a question and the Maulvi used to answer all such questions. On some occasions, these answers were short, while at other times, they were long. On one such occasion, somebody requested him to teach them the six Kalimas so that he could remember them by heart. The Maulvi asked him how many Kalimas he already remembered. He replied that he only remembered two Kalimas. The Maulvi heard those two Kalimas from him and then taught him the third Kalima. I who was also sitting there, heard it and memorized it after repeating it several times. After the Isha Prayer the next day, the Maulvi heard the three Kalimas from that man and taught him the fourth Kalima. I was again present on the occasion. In my heart, I also repeated it several times and thus memorized it. In the same way, the Maulvi taught him the fifth and sixth Kalimas and I too learnt them by heart. On the next day, the Maulvi asked him to recite all the six Kalimas and he immediately did so. The Maulvi was delighted and happily patted him on his back. In a low and subdued manner, I cleared my throat and said, "I've also learnt the six Kalimas by heart. May I recite them to you for correction?"

    The Maulvi seemed startled as he looked towards me. A brief smiled appeared on Abdullah's face but he at once concealed it. The Maulvi did not say anything to me. However, with the nodding of his head, he permitted me and I recited to him all the six Kalimas. I made a couple of mistakes but he himself corrected me. When I ended the sixth Kalima, he said "Jazakallah" (May Allah give you its reward) in a low voice. Abdullah also prayed for me in the same words. Afterwards, it became my routine that whenever the Maulvi taught anything to anyone, I also memorized it and then recited it to him. In this way I was able to learn Imane Mufassal (Elements of faith in detail) Imane Mujmil (Elements of faith in brief) and several other supplications like Duay Kunoot. When I was a child, another Maulvi had taught me all these things. But gradually, as I stepped into youth, I began forgetting these supplications which were replaced in my mind by the words of English songs and the names of their singers. But in these few days, I was again able to memorize all those holy words and supplications which I had forgotten because I had not revised them for such a long time.

    The Maulvi also seemed to have reconciled himself to my presence in the mosque because, he had clearly noticed that I had never attempted to talk to him directly or to stand in his way for any purpose.

   Sometimes, when the Maulvi could not come to the mosque for leading the Prayers, this duty was performed by Abdullah. One day, I directly asked a question from Abdullah. This question had been in my mind for several days, but I had not been able to ask it from Abdullah in the presence of the Maulvi. In an open hearted manner, Abdullah used to hear all my questions and tried to answer them in detail. In this way, the details of my religion gradually began unfolding themselves to me, although it was basically my love for Iman which had started this process

    During all these days, Abdullah never talked to me about any personal matter even in solitude. However, with the passage of time, from the words of the Maulvi and Abdullah, I had started understanding several things which had till then remained hidden from my eyes. Khairu the tonga driver had also become quite familiar with me. At the time of Fajr Prayer in the morning and Isha Prayer at night, he did not like to pick up any other passenger. Before my coming out of the station, he used to arrive there with his tonga. In his heart, he had some respect for my "Vow" and through him, all the people at the railway station had come to know about my daily routine of going somewhere in connection with some "Vow". But quite interestingly, without saying anything to me about this matter, all of them had concluded that my "Vow" must be related to some love affair. They might have done so due to my age or perhaps, love itself is evident from every limb and organ of the lover. The eyes, appearance, gait and face of the lover loudly announce to everyone that this is the person who has committed the crime of love. This is the sinner who deserves to be stoned to death.

    "Anyway, my "Vow" had become a popular topic of discussion among the people at the railway station. At times, Mr. Siddiqi left his office and went towards the stores of the dry port. Finding me sitting alone somewhere, he would come to me with a smiling face, scatter the hair on my head with his hand and go away without saying anything. There was a strange affection in his style. Through his silent actions, he seemed to be saying, "Young man, go on committing this crime of love; we are all with you; don't worry."

    I continued to have occasional meetings with Shakir. Perhaps, Abdullah had told him about my regular appearance in the mosque. Afterwards, when Shakir met me, instead of saying anything to me on this topic, he simply hugged me and wept bitterly. Perhaps, love has been created for making everyone weep. With her tearful eyes, Nighat also arrived there from the veranda and tied a sacred thread on my hand to wish me success and safety in my hazardous amorous adventure. I did not get a chance to ask her anything about Iman. In fact, whenever Nighat saw me, she could not control her tears and it was quite difficult for me to bring her back to the normal condition. After tying the sacred thread on my hand, she lovingly arranged my scattered hair, placed her hand on my head and earnestly prayed for me as if she had been my elder sister. Thus, love had raised my esteem in the eyes of several people. On that day I realized that love simultaneously degrades us in the eyes of some people and elevates us in the eyes of some others. At one and the same time, love acts as a poison and an antidote.

CHAPTER 21

      THE TERM PAPER

Eversince I had announced my decision to write my research paper on "Holocaust", sir Isaac had also started remaining somewhat tense with me. When I met Joseph afterwards, he placed his hand on my shoulder and said, "I knew it would be extremely difficult to stop you. My prayers are with you."

    Inside the class, Rebecca was often seen reciting something silently and whenever she saw me coming or going, she would blow on me. Sarah looked calm but her gang always glared at me with blood thirsty eyes. At last, the same thing happened, about which Kamran had been warning me for several days.

    On that day, due to some public event in the city, the university was closed before the usual time. The nearby roads were closed and arrangements were made for the flow of traffic from alternative routes. For the convenience of the students, the administration had decided to run the University buses one lecture ahead of the normal time. I had brought Kamran's car that day and while Rebecca and I were coming out of the University's main building, Jim, David and Tina were seen coming towards us. As usual, Jim stood in my way. I looked into his eyes. "What do you want from me? Why have you blocked my way?"

    "I want that you should immediately get out of the University and never come here again."

   "But if I don't do so?"

    David came two steps forward. "Then we know how to deal with you."

    As Jim firmly caught my collar, Rebecca shouted loudly, "Jim, leave Medi! You are a beast."

    But Jim did not leave my collar. "Jim, leave my collar. Don't compel me to."

   In the meantime, Sarah arrived there running from somewhere and I could not complete my sentence. With a jerking motion, she released my collar from Jim's hands and shouted "Jim, What madness it is. I didn't expect you to behave like a street gangster."

    On seeing Sarah, Jim cooled down and I went forward with Rebecca. Sarah ran after me and said, "I apologize to you on behalf of Jim. I don't know what has happened to him."

   I attentively looked towards Sarah. "Perhaps, he's unable to bear the truth. Of course, it's extremely difficult to digest the truth."

    As Sarah stood there silently, I left her there and walked forward with Rebecca. While we were on our way, Rebecca used most abusive words for Jim. I was going to drop her at her apartment situated in the Piccadilly area. As we turned to the right from the central road of Piccadilly, she began shouting like children. Dressed like jokers at the road side, a clown was selling candy floss. With his grotesque actions, he was entertaining all the passing by children and was thus inviting them to buy his sweetmeat made of spun sugar. While we were children, we used to call it by the same name. I remembered an old man who used to wander through our streets in our childhood, carrying a large glass jar full of white and pink spun sugar balls that looked like cotton flakes. After properly spinning them and wrapping them around a thick straw, he used to give these balls to us. In England, they were known as candy floss, while we used to call it a sweetmeat made of spun sugar. Compelled by Rebecca's loud noise, I had to park my car at the roadside. She at once jumped out of the car and ran to the clown, who gave her two large yellow and pink balls. With these cotton like balls in her hand, she beckoned me to join her at that place. She was indeed a restless girl and I had to get down from the car and go to her. For a long time, we remained seated together on a large stone sill at the road side and bought more balls from the clown. Even in our old age, we are not able to get rid of our childhood, which remains secretly sitting somewhere inside us and leaps out as soon as it gets a suitable opportunity. It then incites us to fill our pockets with nuts, urges us to blow a loud whistle on the road, forces us to buy the ice ball spread with sweet liquid from a stall on the way and suck them in a relishing mood. It also encourages us to buy and eat cheap spicy and sweet things on our way and eat them with immense delight without the knowledge of our family members. The same innocent childhood was evident from Rebecca's actions that day and along with her, I also again lived through some blissful moments of my childhood. But at that time, we did not know what was going to happen to us the next morning.

    As soon as I entered the University the next morning, I was told that Jim and I had been summoned by the disciplinary committee to explain why we had disturbed the University's discipline and peaceful atmosphere. I had to give an oral explanation that very day and submit a written explanation within three days. Rebecca was furious. "It's sheer injustice. The whole University knows that Jim is to blame for the whole disturbance. It was he who blocked your way and in reply, you didn't say anything to him. I myself will talk to sir Isaac and I'll see how someone takes action against you."

    In extreme anger, she was mumbling something to herself, while walking in the lawn and angrily beating her feet on the ground to vent out her fury. I laughed at her style and remarked, "You can also give vent to your anger while sitting somewhere."

    She angrily looked at me and continued to stroll and grumble in the same way.

   "I didn't expect Sarah to behave like this. With her own eyes she witnessed the whole incident then why didn't she tell sir Isaac that you're totally innocent."

    Meanwhile, it was announced on the speaker that Jim and I should immediately appear before the committee to record our statements about the incident that had happened during the previous day. Within five minutes, we appeared before the committee in the room of the University Dean who was none other than sir Isaac.

    I caught Rebecca by her shoulders and told her to sit down calmly. "Sit here peacefully and I'll be back soon after recording my statement. As long as I don't come, you won't stroll in anxiety. Understand?"

    Rebecca sat down but tears could be seen in the corners of her eyes. I consoled that delicate sensitive girl, scattered her hair and walked towards the dean's room. Jim was already present in the room. Across the table, there was sir Isaac accompanied by three administrative members of the committee. The charge sheet against me was read out. It contained only one accusation that I had a scuffle with Jim the previous day and used abusive language against him, regardless of the University's discipline, honour and prestige. I was told that I had committed a serious offence by disregarding the rules and regulations of the University. Then, sir Isaac attended to me. "Yes Mr. Hammad, do you want to say something in your defence?"

   "I only want to say that this accusation is absolutely false. None of my actions violated any law of the University. Jim blocked my way but the whole thing ended there."

   "But according to Jim's statement, you had attacked him and the matter had become quite serious."

   "I'm not surprised at Jim's statement but I still insist that it was a trivial affair which immediately came to an end. If the university's administration so desires, it can hold its own inquiry into the matter because, a large number of students were present at the time of the incident. With their own eyes, they saw what had happened. One of them is Miss Sarah Isaac who was an eye witness to the incident."

   In utter astonishment, sir Isaac looked towards me. It was quite evident that he did not have the least expectation of hearing from me the name of his daughter as my witness. Same was the case with Rebecca when after coming out of the room I told her that I had given Sarah's name as a witness to the inquiry committee. "O Medi, what the hell have you done! Now no one can prevent your expulsion from the University, not even I."

    CHAPTER 22

     THE SAME EYES AGAIN

While I was still regularly going to Maulvi Alim's mosque to offer two Prayers, another incident took place. Daily at about four in the evening, a train named Bolan Mail leaves Quetta for Karachi. After leaving Quetta, its third station is the small town of Mach. It is known for a jail which was built here during the British rule. It is said that there was a time when this Mach Jail was as notorious as the Black Water prison centre in the Andaman Islands. The middle class people of Mach used to come to Quetta by the same Bolan Mail which used to arrive in Mach from Karachi at about eight in the morning. After doing their day's business in Quetta, they used to leave for Mach in the down express of the same Bolan Mail at four in the evening. In this way, they arrived back in Mach in about one and a half hour's time.

    Mr. Siddiqi had a friend who was serving as Station Master at Mach Railway Station. One day, at the invitation of Mr. Siddiqi, he came to Quetta with his family. They were going back to Mach by the evening train. Their luggage consisted of a huge number of things and it seemed that they had bought at least one specimen of each and every item available in the markets of Quetta. When the train was about to leave, Mr. Siddiqi told a number of coolies to put the luggage in the train's bogie. When I saw them from a distance, I also went there to assist them in their work. I got the suit cases from Ghafura and another old coolie and rushed towards the train. As I looked around, I saw Abdullah standing in front of me. For a moment, he was wonder struck to see me in the dress of the coolies carrying several suitcases and boxes. With a smile I said, "Do you need a coolie? What about my labour?"

    All of a sudden I felt as if someone had placed a burning coal on my tongue. Clad in black Burka, she was standing just behind Abdullah. Of course it was she. How could I ever forget those murderous eyes? Behind her stood Haya and an old woman wearing shuttle cock Burka. Perhaps, she was Iman's mother and all of them were coming after Abdullah and due to this reason, I could not see all of them at first glance. The suitcases were about to fall down from my hands. I put down the luggage and Abdullah shook hands with me. But at that time, I was no longer in my senses. I wonder why it always happened that whenever I came face to face with Iman, I no longer remained in control of myself. After each such encounter with Iman, I used to be extremely angry with myself. I used to wonder why I wasted that golden opportunity. Instead of becoming nervous, I should have continuously watched her with full concentration without winking my eyes for a single moment, as long as she remained before me. But once again, I was passing through the same experience. I don't remember what Abdullah said to me and what I said to him. When Ghafura and other coolies noticed that I was talking to some acquaintance of mine, they themselves lifted the luggage of Mr. Siddiqi's guests scattered all around me. Haya who was constantly watching me told something to the old lady about me. As usual, Iman was standing there with her lowered head. Then I realized that eversince she had unintentionally seen me at the station, her whole body had been trembling. I got the tickets from Abdullah's hands in order to guide them to their compartment. I tried to carry their luggage, but Abdullah did not allow me to touch it.

    Their compartment was after two bogies. After seating the ladies inside the compartment, Abdullah himself came out to me. For a while, we both stood silently, without knowing what to say. Then suddenly, Abdullah caught my hands and touched his eyes with them. The moment I felt moisture in his eyes, I at once pulled back my hands and patted him on his shoulders. At times words fail us and we have to depend on our eyes for conveying our thoughts and feelings. But when eyes also start shedding tears, we are only left with our hands. With these hands, we hold the hands of others, pat them on their back, caress them and embrace them to indicate that we are with them and are sharing their grief. Standing at the railway station at that moment, I could convey my feelings to Abdullah only by means of this language of the hands. I noticed that at that time, tears had also welled up in Haya's eyes but she concealed them with the corner of her head covering. Iman was sitting beside her mother near the window. While going, Abdullah told me that all of them were going to Mach where one of the Maulvi's sisters lived. They were going there to attend some ceremony. Till then, I had only had a few casual encounters with Iman but the moment I heard the news of his departure from Quetta, I had the feeling that the whole city would remain deserted and desolate forever in her absence. It appeared to me as if the train would take away everything from me including my heart. My whole existence was overwhelmed with a strange type of restlessness. As the train whistled again, Abdullah turned, embraced me and went towards his compartment in the train. Quite unintentionally, I looked towards Iman sitting in the compartment and for a moment, the station, the platform, the train, the people present all around me and talking in different languages, the noise, the earth, the sky and everything else went out of my sight. Only Iman and her two eyes remained in the universe. But it was not the only reason of my nervousness. At that moment, Iman was also looking towards me. Yes, it was a fact. For the first time in her life, she had looked towards me out of her own free will. The moment our eyes confronted each other, I noticed a shine of moisture in her eyes but then, in her bewilderment, she lowered her eyes. I felt that I had achieved the objective of my life and that I should stop breathing because, the rest of my life would be of no use.

   Never in my life had I been so much proud of my good fortune. As the train jerked, the TT blew the whistle for the third and last time and the train slowly began moving forward. Abdullah was also now sitting on his seat and quite involuntarily, I raised my hand to bid him farewell and he too waved his hand. I began walking with the train. My condition was like that of a child who gives his favourite toy to some other child, but when that other child is about to go, he too starts walking with him. As the train was gradually accelerating its pace, I too increased my speed and was now literally running with the train. Some irrepressible desire was urging me forward and I had constantly fixed my gaze on the trembling Iman who was sitting inside with her bent head. The last end of the platform was now rapidly drawing near. I must have stumbled over several things scattered on the way. But despite my stumbling and staggering, with my wounded feet, I continued my struggle to keep pace with the running train. Perhaps, Ghafura had shouted something and some coolies had run towards me in order to stop me so that I might not be crushed under the train by falling at the end of the platform. But I was no longer conscious of what was going on around me. For some unknown reason, I was gripped by the feeling that if Iman once went out of my sight that day, I might never be able to see her again. With my eyes fixed inside the compartment, I continued running forward. But then, it appeared as if Nature had decided to show some mercy to me. Perhaps, the sincerity of all my prostrations in my wretched and pathetic condition had been accepted in the heavens. For a moment, Iman lifted her head and looked towards me outside the train. For the next few moments, she continuously watched me with her eyes full of utter helplessness, numerous questions and entreaties. After a while, the train speedily crossed the platform and went away and I could only hear the loud roaring sound of its wheels. By that time, I was completely out of my senses. Perhaps, somebody held me in his arms and with my face dripping with tears, I sat down on my knees at the same place and went on looking towards the train in a most helpless and miserable condition.  I was surrounded by several people including Mr. Siddiqi, Ghafura and other labourers and coolies who were working with me at the railway station. All of them were consoling me, patting me on my back, caressing me and hugging me to show their support and sympathy for me, but I was conscious of nothing and the whole world had perished for me. There was something in Iman's eyes. Perhaps, she wanted to say to me that I should give up my madness and craziness. Moreover, the fire and smoke rising from my heart was causing some embarrassment for that virtuous lady. Yes, this was exactly the matter. But if it was so, what was meant by the helplessness and questions in her eyes. At that time, I was obsessed with the desire to go on running along the train on the railway track, to reach the town where she was going, find her out in that town, hold her face in my hands and ask her about the question in her eyes. If only she had asked that question just once and I would have explored the answer for her, even if it required me to pull out even the last thread of my soul.

    It was getting late in the evening and gradually, the hustle and bustle on the station was decreasing. In one corner of the platform, some wooden boards and other useless things were being burnt and I was sitting near that fire. The wooden boards were snapping in the fire. Ghafura also came there. He placed his hand on my shoulder and sat near me. "Babu, a huge fire seems to be burning inside you. If it remains inside, it will burn and consume everything. Till this day, I had believed that only I had loved somebody but now I have realized that I don't know even the l of love. From where have you brought so much lava and so much fire? A single glimpse has burnt the whole station to ashes. Don't behave like that. Have some mercy on us. Tell us who you are. Why are you urging sinful people like me to commit more sins? You seem to be the prince of some empire. What are you doing here among the labourers?"

     I had no answer to any of his questions. What could I tell him? Instead of saying something, I only held his hand firmly. Perhaps, my hands gave him some message and without speaking, he remained sitting there for a long time warming his hands. The pieces of wood in the fire went on snapping and making our faces bright with a golden glow.

    After that incident, I noticed a strange change in the attitude of the people at the station towards me. Whenever I passed through the platform or any other part of the station, all the labourers, members of the staff and even my officers would stop for a while and look attentively towards me. There was a strange type of respect in their eyes for me. Thus, one episode of my love had made me respectable in their eyes, although I regarded that episode as an act of stupidity on my part and was very much ashamed of it. I felt a great deal of embarrassment and difficulty while facing my colleagues at the station on the next day.

    Daily, I used to check all the trains coming from Karachi, hoping that Iman would return in one of them. But for four days, I had to face disappointment.

    My Isha and Fajr Prayers at Maulvi Alim's mosque also became irregular, because all the time, my mind and heart were obsessed with those two eyes of Iman. All the time, I felt as if I had been suffering from fever. One day, after a great deal of insistence, Ghafura brought a doctor who asked me about my fever. Quite spontaneously, Ghafura remarked that I had been suffering from the fever of love. The Doctor also smiled and I thought that perhaps, it was indeed the fever of love. I then realized the power and strength of human emotions, which pierce into our body, join the circulation of blood, disturb our veins and muscles and upset the whole system of our body. How can an ordinary doctor understand such a complicated disease?

    I had a high fever that night, but even then, I told Khairu to take me to the mosque in his tonga. Seeing the condition of my health, he showed some reluctance, but I went towards another tonga and Khairu had to agree to take me to my destination in his own tonga. On the way, he gave me his long Peshawari shawl to cover my body to prevent the further deterioration of my fever. I got down near the mosque, went inside and silently sat in one corner. As usual, Maulvi Alim arrived in time and led the Prayer. After the Prayer, there was his routine lecture followed by the question answer session. For a moment, he saw me sitting in the back row but then he became attentive towards the young man who wanted to ask some question from him.

    "Does our religion allow love marriage?" asked the young man.

    Quite unintentionally, I looked towards the Maulvi, who began his answer without seeing me.

    "Islam allows conjugal love but it does not allow the other type of pre-marital love."

   The young man was not yet fully satisfied with the answer. "But Islam does allow that the girl should be asked about her marriage. I have even heard that according to our religion, the girl and the boy can have a glimpse of each other before marriage. In other words their like and dislike must be kept in view in this matter."

    The Maulvi's tone became somewhat harsh. "Yes, if it becomes necessary, it is allowed to a certain extent. But in our society, only those marriages are successful which are arranged with the consent of the parents. It is not wise to leave such an important decision up to the will and discretion of an immature and inexperienced weak girl. How can any parents in the world like to arrange the marriage of their innocent daughter with some inappropriate person? It is therefore better that this decision should be made by the girl's parents and other elders of the family."

    Perhaps, the young man was satisfied by this detailed answer, but at that moment, something strange happened to me. For the last several weeks, I had been coming to this mosque, but during this whole period, I had never asked anything from the Maulvi but due to some unknown reason, I could not control myself on that occasion. As the Maulvi was about to wind up the question answer session my voice surprised the people present there and they all stopped to hear what I had to ask.

    "While finding a suitable match for their daughter, which religious qualities of the boy should be kept in mind by the parents?"

    For a while, the Maulvi became silent, but due to the presence of other people in the mosque, he had to answer my question.

    "The boy should have all the religious qualities. He should be fully aware of his religion, Prayers, fasting and other such things. Besides this, the parents of the girl should also consider the family background of the boy whom they have chosen for their daughter."

     I continued the discussion. "But it is also possible that the boy is only making a false show of his religiousness to impress the parents of the girl."

   "In such a situation, it would be a fraud and he will have to face the divine punishment for his fraud."

    "I regularly offer the five daily Prayers and besides this, I have learnt the six Kalimas by heart. I believe that I fulfil all the terms and conditions which are required for marrying a Muslim girl. I wish to marry a girl. Please pray for me that her family may agree to this proposal."

    On hearing these words, those who were sitting around me smiled and the Maulvi lifted his hands to pray, though with an unwilling heart. After the prayer, others left the mosque leaving me and the Maulvi alone in the mosque. He angrily looked towards me and began to speak.

    "I knew very well that whatever you are doing here these days is only a false pretence and that your actual objective is something else. At last today, you have spoken out the thoughts of your heart."

   "How can you give a final judgment about someone's religiousness and worshipping? It is a direct affair between man and God. How can you say that it is a pretence? Even if it is a pretence, you should encourage it, because, one day or the other, this pretence may lead someone to the right path."

    The Maulvi who could not think of an appropriate answer, had to change the direction of the discussion. "What do you want from me? Why do you appear again and again before me?"

   "You know very well what I want. On that day, you tried to make me realize that I'm not a religious person but the fact is that you can't lay the full blame of my non-religiousness on me. After my childhood, nobody made me realize the importance of such things. But it's never too late to mend. Anyhow, to a great extent, I now fulfil the religious conditions imposed by you. Even if there is still some short coming, I assure you to remove it within the shortest possible time."

    At last, the outraged Maulvi burst. "Why don't you understand the fact that we're no match for you? I can't even think of marrying my daughter into your family."

    "You know that now I've nothing to do with that family. I'm making this request in my personal capacity."

    His voice began to quiver as he attempted to hide the tears in his eyes. "Why are you bent upon ruining my honour and respect? Whenever I see you in the mosque or even near my street, I can't sleep for the whole night due to extreme worry and anxiety. If once people start saying something, it's impossible to stop them. If some false accusations are leveled against my innocent and virtuous daughters, they will have to stay in their parents' home till their old age and death. Have some mercy on our poverty. Quetta is a small city and the area in which we live is even smaller than it. It takes no time for a story to spread here like wild fire. On that day, your domestic servants were saying many scandalous things about us. I'm thankful to Shakir who silenced them, otherwise, your mother and brother's wife had left no stone unturned in hanging me to death. It's of no use to repeat whatever happened that day but now, my honour is in your hands."

    "You shouldn't even imagine that I can do something to harm your reputation."

   "If it is so, I again most humbly request you to remove this idea from your heart."

   Maulvi Alim was now choking with emotions. After a while, he sat near me on his knees and folded his hands before me. For a moment, I was stunned and horrified at what he had done. I immediately caught his folded hands into my own hands. He was now literally weeping most earnestly.

   "What are you doing! Don't make me more embarrassed and more sinful. I never intended to injure your feelings. I only."

    As I saw his miserable condition, I seemed to have lost my words. He interrupted me and said, "Then, do what I've just said. Your family and our society will never accept this marriage relationship. She is the dust of the earth while you are a sky. You will be known everywhere as the Commissioner's son while wherever she goes, she will always be recognized as the daughter of a poor Maulvi. People will describe this relationship in strange terms. Till yesterday, your family members were saying scandalous things about me and my daughters, tomorrow; everyone will say such things behind our backs. I'm an Imam and people offer their Prayers behind me. If the same people start pointing fingers at the honour and respect of my family, how shall I be able to remain alive then? Just think over this matter for a while. Instead of leading such a life, it is better for me to strangle her with my own hands."

    I had no more courage to hear his words. I pressed his hands and stood up. His white beard was still flooded with tears. When I came out of the mosque, my condition was similar to that of a gambler who puts everything at stake and is then beaten in the final round as well. Somehow or the other, when I reached the tonga, Khairu was much disturbed to see my condition and He at once placed his hand on my forehead. "O my dear! You fever is very high."

    He assisted me in lying on the back seat of the tonga and as he started driving the tonga, I was overpowered by a feeling of drowsiness. I was feeling angry at myself. I should not have talked to the Maulvi about this matter at that time. It seemed to me as if with my own hands, I had turned off the last torch of hope.

    Man is indeed very impatient. As long as he is hopeful, he goes on scratching his wounds. Every time, on account of this hope, he again scratches his wounds before their healing. But when due to this repeated scratching, the wounds are transformed into dangerous ulcers; he goes on cursing himself for the rest of his life.

    On seeing the miserable and wretched condition of the Maulvi at that time, it was better for me to go away from there, because, he was not in a position to listen to any rational explanation of my behaviour. Moreover, with his own hands, he had shattered the image of his self-esteem.  If only, instead of doing what he did, he had scolded and condemned me and kicked me out of the mosque. How will I face him now? He seemed to have shut every door for me.

    On the silent road, the tonga was producing its typical sound and going towards the railway station while I was full of strange fears and apprehensions. The circles of the yellow roadside lights could be seen at some distance from one another on the road. Like the dark patches of the road between these circles of light, my mind was also continuously wavering between light and darkness. By the time I reached the station, I had become completely unconscious and my mind had been lost in darkness. 

CHAPTER 23

      THE JURY'S VERDICT

I do not know whether or not the Inquiry Committee summoned Sarah to give evidence, but within three days, the Committee's verdict appeared on the Notice Board. Both Jim and I were expelled from the University for one semester and one semester meant six months. However, we were given the right to appeal to the University Administration against the decision within three days. We were told that if we failed to file our appeals within the stipulated time, we would automatically lose this right. On one or two occasions during this period, I came face to face with Jim; and on each occasion, I noticed a strange satirical smile on his face. It indicated that he had achieved his objective which was to see my expulsion from the university at any cost. As far as his own expulsion for six months was concerned, for students like him, it only meant a picnic period. The university administration seemed to be fully collaborating with him in this conspiracy. The white people are habitual of doing everything in a very careful, systematic calculated and well-considered manner. While expelling me from the University without any genuine reason, they were apprehensive that I might go to the court. Thus, as a proof of their honesty and justice, they had prepared Jim to make some sacrifice.

    Joseph and Rebecca were the only two persons at the University who were sharing my grief at this injustice. Rebecca's tears were unstoppable, though I had tried my best to make her understand that the final decision was yet to be announced, but she was not ready to hear anything.

    It was the final day to file my appeal against the decision and I knew that I would have to leave the campus from the next day. I went to the Dean's room where all the four members of the Committee were already present. Sir Isaac again read out to me all the details of the matter and informed me that my written reply had failed to satisfy the committee members and therefore, they had upheld their decision to expel me from the University for one semester. When I looked directly into the eyes of sir Isaac, he looked around evasively. I began to speak in a calm and composed manner. "It's Saturday today and I know the sanctity of this day for the Committee's Chairman sir Isaac. I'm hopeful that on this holy day, he won't take any partial decision."

    Saturday is as sacred for the Jews as if Friday for us. Sir Isaac understood the irony of my words but he had to bear them patiently. He asked me if I had something else to say in my defence. I shook my head and members of the jury held their pens in order to place their signatures on the verdict.

    Then all of a sudden, the door opened and Sarah burst into the room. Sir Isaac looked towards her rather angrily. "Miss Sarah, don't you know that the routine matters are not being dealt with in the office today? The decision of an important inquiry is being announced here today."

    "I've also come here to assist the jury in connection with the same decision. I'm sure that my statement will help the committee in drawing right conclusions."

    Sir Isaac was desperately looking for some pretext for sending her out of the room but he had to put up with her as other members of the jury had also become aware of the whole matter. He again spoke in a decisive manner and this time his tone was rather harsh. "I don't believe that at this stage we are in need of any statement from Miss Sarah, because, Mr. Hammad himself has recorded his final statement and we have also announced our decision. As a last formality, we are about to sign this    decision."

Sarah also perceived the threat in his tone and she too spoke in a decisive and forceful manner.

    "No judgment is complete unless it fulfils all the requirements of justice. I'm an eye witness to the whole incident and up to this day, I wasn't told by the Committee that Mr. Hammad had given my name as a witness. Anyhow, I've come here to record my statement that Mr. Hammad did not do anything wrong in the whole incident. It was Jim who started the dispute and told Mr. Hammad to leave the University. In reply, he didn't say anything to Jim."

    If it had been in sir Isaac's power, he would have at once forced Sarah to disappear from his sight.

    Sarah waved a long list of names in the air. "It's the list of those forty students who with their own eyes saw the whole incident. All of them have come here with me. They are standing outside waiting to be called in for recording their statements. If the Committee allows, their statements can also be recorded."

    It was quite evident that Sarah had made all arrangements. One after another, different colours could be seen appearing on and disappearing from sir Isaac's face. With a great deal of difficulty, he controlled himself.

    "No, there's no need for it. In these changed circumstances, the Committee will have to reconsider its earlier decision."

    Then he looked towards the rest of the members of the jury and asked their opinion. All of them agreed that Sarah's statement had completely changed the situation. They requested to be given three days for reconsidering their earlier decision. It was quite obvious from sir Isaac's face that he had lost the game. I was allowed to go and as I went out of the room, I saw all the students of my class and several other students of the University waiting for me. When Sarah informed them that the Committee had taken back its decision against me, Rebecca was the first to shout and raise slogans. Then, there was such a loud uproar of students that sir Isaac's personal assistant had to come there and request them to go away because, sir Isaac had been greatly disturbed by the noise. Rebecca immediately announced a treat for the whole University and remarked that there could be no better occasion than that for using her father's Australian Dollars. In a cheerful and hilarious mood, all the students went towards the cafeteria but Sarah silently went towards another direction. I saw her while she was turning towards the corridor leading to the outside of the main building of the University. I ran after her but by that time, she had gone far ahead.

    "Sarah, please listen to me, please stop for a moment," I shouted.

    As she stopped, I went near her. "Thank you."

    "For what?"

    "For helping me. If you hadn't come at the right time today, the case would surely have been decided against me."

    "I didn't support you. I supported the truth. And, therefore, there's no need for any thanks."

    "There're only a few people left in the world who like to support the truth and I'm glad to know that you're one of them."

    Sarah smiled for a moment. "Then you should thank God who gave you the opportunity to meet one of those rare people."

    I also smiled to hear her words.

    "You're right. I'll thank Him in solitude but for the moment, I wish to thank you."

    I turned and started going back. After thinking something, Sarah again called me. "I couldn't understand one thing. Why did you give my name as a witness? In spite of the fact that I was one of those who were quarrelling with you."

   "I don't know why I did so. But you seemed to be a truthful girl and I decided to test the credibility of my views about you."

    As Sarah laughed I noticed for the first time that two small dimples appeared in her cheeks while she laughed. "Well, what an occasion to test the credibility of your views about me. But if I hadn't come just in time, what then?"

    "I would have lost my trust in truth."

    Sarah carefully looked towards me. "You look pretty dangerous. Wish you best of luck."

   As Sarah went forward, she was still laughing. It was the first day of our friendship. Later on, Rebecca informed me that Sarah had not been called to testify before the Inquiry Committee, nor had she thought it necessary to appear before the Committee herself, because, after all, Jim was one of her oldest and best friends. However, when Rebecca told her that I had given her name to the Inquiry Committee as an eye witness, she was stunned for a moment, because, she had never expected me to do so. Rebecca could not understand why Sarah had decided to give evidence in my favour and how she had been able to convince half of the university students to do the same. Rebecca further told me that sir Isaac was extremely annoyed with Sarah and did not talk to her for several days. I do not know how Sarah was able to handle the whole matter. Anyhow, Sarah had proved herself to be a brave girl.

    On the third day, both Jim and I were summoned to the Dean's office by the Inquiry Committee. I was told that I was being acquitted because, none of the charges against me had been proved. Jim on the other hand was told that he would have to leave the University for one semester and that the University administration would constitute a committee to consider his readmission after six months. Jim looked downcast and I requested the Committee to allow me to say something. I was permitted to speak and I said, "Sir, I don't have any personal rivalry with Jim. On that day, perhaps, I couldn't properly understand Jim's intentions. I later on realized that it was a serious joke on the part of Jim and David. But everything happened so quickly that none of us could properly understand the matter. I request the jury not to expel Jim for such a trivial matter. If both of us are heavily fined for this joke, we shall consider it to be an act of kindness on the part of the University administration."

    Jim went on looking towards me in surprise. The jury appreciated my truth and after a warning, allowed both of us to resume attending our classes. While I was allowed to go out, Jim was detained in the office for signing some papers.

    The next day, while I was sitting in the class and Madame Nancy was delivering her lecture on Economics, Jim entered the class. Even on ordinary occasions, he did not bother to seek permission for entering the classroom or going out. He came straight to me and stood near my desk. The whole class was dumbfounded and even Madame Nancy was finding it difficult to speak. For a while, he looked into my eyes and glared at me. The whole class was silent. Rebecca was tightly holding my hand. Then, without saying anything, he extended his hand towards me. With my other hand, I caught his hand. Jim pulled me towards him and then embraced me and all the students expressed their delight by banging their desks. Rebecca knew how to blow the whistle and the classroom began echoing with her loud whistles. As I looked towards Sarah, she was smiling and my heart said, "Love conquers all."

      CHAPTER 24

      UNCONSCIOUSNESS

When I regained consciousness, it was broad day light, but the place was quite unfamiliar for me. For a while, I lay in bed, trying to remember where I was. I recalled that during the night, Khairu had put me in his tonga and was taking me back to the railway station but here I was in a room, having a seven-type tin roof, a neat and clean bed, elegant curtains and large ventilators and windows. To whom did it belong?

After some time, I heard the train's horn and the whistle blown by the T T. It was quite evident that the railway station was not far away but whose house was it? I tried to get up, but the moment I raised my head, I felt as if instead of the head, a heavy iron ball had been attached to my shoulders. With a cry of pain, I held my head and again collapsed on the bed. Soon afterwards, there was some noise outside the room. Perhaps, someone had heard my voice. Then, Mr. Siddiqi was seen entering the room. He was carrying some tablets and a glass of juice. Seeing me trying to get up, he at once caught me by the shoulders and made me lie down on the bed again.

    "Remain in bed, you haven't fully recovered yet."

    "But sir, how did I come here?"

    "You yourself have never told us anything. You seem to be determined to bear all the pain yourself, without letting anyone know anything about it.  But perhaps, you are not to blame for it because, you are passing through a particular phase of your life in which people often behave like this."

    Then with a smile, he put two tablets into my mouth and forced me to drink a half glass of water. I was embarrassed to see him serving me in this manner and I made another attempt to get up. "Sir, now I'm all right. But how did I come here?"

    He placed a pillow behind my back and helped me in sitting.

    "Three days ago, when Khairu brought you here   in his tonga, you were suffering from intense fever and severe mental and emotional agitation.

    I almost jumped and said, "It means I came here three days ago? But it was only yesterday when I"

   "Yes, you have been lying here for three days, suffering from very high fever. Instead of shifting you to the railway hospital, I thought it better to keep you in this house for your proper treatment. The Doctor has been visiting you three times a day and thank God, since morning, the intensity of your fever has decreased to some extent. But you are still in need of more rest. Don't try to move an inch from here till you fully recover. In this connection, I won't allow any obstinacy on your part."

    O God! For the last three days, while suffering from fever, I have been a burden for this gentleman. This thought made me angry at my own condition. I had already bothered him so much, so I should not give him more trouble.

    "Sir, believe you me, I'm perfectly all right now. I've already been a burden for you and your family during the last three days. Don't add to my embarrassment."

   "First of all, take back your words about being a burden for me. Secondly, I live alone in this house. I don't have mental harmony with my wife and, therefore, she stays with her parents for ten months in a year; and as far as children are concerned, I have none. I'm having a wonderful time here, living alone with a few servants."

    He smiled and continued to speak. For an unmarried person, loneliness may be torturous but after marriage, this torture is transformed into a great joy when the wife goes to her parents. If you don't believe it, after your marriage send your wife to her parents for a few days and then you will realize the truth of what I've just said."

    I also smiled. "I'm very much thankful to you sir, but how can I live here? I know that I've already disturbed you in your loneliness."

    "O my dear, loneliness is my age-old friend. At times, it is also bored by living with me for such a long time. Don't worry about my loneliness."

    Not to speak of leaving that house, I was not even allowed by him to leave that room, despite my repeated insistence. However, in the evening, when the servant arranged the tea in the outside veranda, Mr. Siddiqi took me there with him.

    From In front of Quetta railway station, there passes a sub-road that leads to the left and joins the main road. It is commonly known as Kalun Road. The bungalows of railway officers are also situated on the same cold road. One of them was a small bungalow where Mr. Siddiqi lived with his servants. These bungalows having red tin roofs were built during the British rule, keeping in view the weather of Quetta. They were built in the typical British architectural style. Outside the rooms, there was a veranda, where greenwood pillars which carried the roof, were standing at some distance from one another. In front of the veranda, there was a vast orchard having apple, grape, pomegranate and pear trees and a large number of flowers. Mr. Siddiqi seemed to have a refined taste. While taking a sip of tea, he attentively looked towards me.

    "During your unconsciousness and hysteric condition, you were saying a lot of things. But for most of the time, you were talking in English and not in Urdu. It shows that while you were at home, you didn't use Urdu on most occasions."

    Thus, he himself asked me what I had been apprehensive of. I was already disturbed by the thought that I had been lying there in an unconscious state for three days. I wondered what foolish things I might have said in my frenzied condition.

    I remained silent for a few moments and then Mr. Siddiqi resumed the discussion. "If you don't wish to tell anything about your past life, there's no harm in it, but when you came here on the very first day, I realized that you are not what you appear to others. Your eyes, your accent, your hands and everything else indicate that you are totally different from those people among whom you've been living for the last several days. Although I'm not aware of the compulsions that brought you here, yet I wasn't much surprised to hear lucid English from your mouth during your unconsciousness. But it's not good to be so much annoyed with the whole world. Sometimes, if we share our feelings and thoughts with others, it gives us immense relief and lightens the burden of our heart."

    In reply, I began to speak in a feeble voice. "I haven't got much to say. I left my home in pursuit of an aim which has now become the aim of my life. Now, it has become the focal point of my whole existence. My days and nights are devoted to it and I feel that the rest of my brief life would be spent in the pursuit of the same objective. It is the sum and substance of my whole story."

    Mr. Siddiqi was lost in some deep thought. "Well, you're quite fortunate. At least, you've got an objective in your life and the fact is that this is the crux of life. If at any point of your struggle, I may be of any help to you, do let me know. I'm eagerly desirous of doing something which may be a source of pride for me. If I may not succeed in love, at least, I should be able to assist someone in succeeding in love."

     He used the words Assist in love exactly as the policemen use the word "Accomplice" for a person who assists someone else in committing a crime and both of us laughed. For the next two days, he did not give me the opportunity of saying anything. On the third day, with a great deal of difficulty, I was able to persuade him to let me go, on the condition that I would regularly have my evening tea with him. He even warned me that if I failed to turn up for the tea on some evening, he himself would go to the stores of the dry port to take me with him. He continued to insist that I should shift to his house permanently and promised never to ask me anything about my past life. But I assured him that neither the fear of his questions nor my past life were preventing me from staying with him, instead, I was apprehensive that my stay with him might damage the objective for which I had left my home and come to the station. At last, on the evening of the seventh day, I said good-bye to him at the gate of his bungalow, although he was insisting on accompanying me to the railway station. As I left his house and started walking alone on the Cold Road, I was thinking about this strange and kind hearted person who accommodated a stranger in his house for a week and became so much familiar with him that on his return, his eyes were filled with tears. Of course, man is the greatest healer of man.

    As soon as I arrived at the platform of the railway station, all the people working there became aware of my return and gathered around me like bees which cluster around their hive. I had to assure each of them individually that I had fully recovered from my illness. Some of them embraced me so warmly and enthusiastically as if I had just returned from the battlefield. At last, Ghafura had to intervene. In his loud roaring voice he told all of them that I had only slightly recovered from my illness and that if they thronged around me in the same manner, I would not be able to take proper rest. He told all of them to leave me alone for the time being. No one could disobey Ghafura and the crowd of people around me gradually decreased. Ghafura held my hand and told me to sit on the bench. He himself sat in front of me.

    "I knew very well that you won't stay with Mr. Siddiqi for a long time and that you would soon come back to us. I knew that you won't like the peace and comfort of his house for a long time, because, you get peace only in restlessness."

    Perhaps, he was annoyed with me for having returned from Mr. Siddiqi's house. With a smile I looked towards him. "Are you angry with me.""

   "Don't say such things now. What's the use of my anger? You've never considered me to be your well-wisher and friend, otherwise, you would surely have told me about the Maulvi affair."

   In astonishment I looked towards him.

    "Yes, Khairu the tonga driver has told me everything. But he is not to blame for it, because, that night when you went inside the mosque and didn't come out for a long time, in a state of great alarm and anxiety, he himself went into the mosque, thinking that your condition might have further deteriorated. But before entering the mosque, he had heard the whole discussion between you and the Maulvi. However, Khairu is a trustworthy friend of mine and believe you me; he won't leak out this secret to anyone else. After dropping you at Mr. Siddiqi's house, he came straight to me. He might not have told anything even to me but he had been greatly upset to see your miserable condition. He was afraid that something serious might happen to me. If your health had not improved in the next one or two days, we would have gone to your home to inform your family about your condition.

    His words startled me. "My home?"

    "Yes, Khairu had heard whatever the Maulvi said. We know that you are the son of a lord. We know everything. Perhaps, Ghafura was using the word "lord" to mean the Commissioner. I remembered that the Maulvi had told me that I would always be known as the Commissioner's son wherever I might go. In other words, my secret had been leaked and it clearly meant that it was time for me to leave this place and go somewhere else. I knew that sooner or later, all the people working at the station with me, would come to know of my reality and, therefore, I thought that it was much better for me to leave that place as soon as possible. Ghafura was closely watching me. It seemed as if he had read my thoughts. "But listen to me carefully, by God, if you ever made an attempt to go away from here to some other place, I would tie you with ropes and tell everyone here that the stranger who has been living with us for so many days is a prince."

   I laughed at his words and he held my hands and spoke in a rather melancholic tone.

    "For the sake of my friendship, don't go anywhere from here. I promise not to tell anything about you to anyone. But if you moved to some other place, I would never be able to see my own face."

     "All right, I won't go anywhere but on the condition that as usual, I myself would do all my work and you won't give me any special treatment due to my friendship with you or my family position, otherwise, I wouldn't stay here even for a single day."

    Ghafura joyfully kissed my hands and tears appeared in his eyes. "You really don't belong to this world, but who would realize the worth of your love in this world? If you order me just once, I myself would go to that Maulvi, fall down on his feet and serve him as a slave for the rest of my life."

   "No, not at all. It's not a matter of orders. It's a matter of requests. I've made my request and now, I'm left with no alternative except waiting for the outcome."

   Ghafura's eyes were filled with a special type of love and respect for me. For a long time, he remained sitting with me and we talked about different casual matters. Later, Khairu also came there and hugged me very warmly for a long time. As far as human emotions are concerned, the poor people are really very rich in this connection. When they develop some warm feelings in their heart for someone, they are always ready to sacrifice everything for him. The only thing required is that there should be someone capable of touching their heart. Keeping in view the melancholy of my heart, neither Ghafura nor Khairu said anything else about the Maulvi and his family. They continued talking to me about different trivial matters to divert my attention. In one matter, they were rivals of each other. Dilip Kumar was the favourite film actor for both of them and each of them was always busy trying to prove himself to be the real admirer of Dilip Kumar. Khairu was always referring to a movie in which Dilip Kumar had played the role of a tonga driver. According to Khairu, he had been working as a tonga driver eversince he had watched that black and white movie. Ghafura on the other hand always talked about a movie in which his favourite hero had played the role of a labour union leader. Since then, in his practical life, Ghafura had been trying to play the same role. Whenever I found them sitting together, I would deliberately mention Dilip Kumar's name; and then, for several hours, they continued their discussion on their favourite topic. Quite often, their discussions changed into heated debates which ended up in loud quarrels. On that day again, Khairu angrily went away, because, Ghafura had remarked that a great actor like Dilip Kumar should not have played the role of an ordinary tonga driver. After his departure, Ghafura and I laughed heartily at Khairu's sentimentality. Then all of a sudden, Ghafura remembered something and slapped on his own head. Talking to himself he said, "To hell with you O Ghafura. You've forgotten it."

   "Why, what happened? What have you forgotten?"

    "I was so much delighted at your return that I forgot to tell you that while you were ill last week, a bearded young man came here and was asking about you. He told me his name. It was something like----."

He placed his hand on his forehead and began recalling his name.

    I felt my heart leaping into my throat and my tongue sticking to my palate

 In a low trembling voice I uttered the name "Abdullah?"

   Ghafura clapped his hands in delight. "Yes, Abdullah. This is exactly the name he told. He seemed much worried. I told him about your illness. He again came here yesterday and told me to convey the message to you that as soon as you get well, you should meet Mr. Shakir. There may be something important."

    I could feel explosions taking place in my mind. Why did Abdullah come here? Why does he want me to meet Shakir? The Maulvi's condition may have got worse. He may have changed his mind. But how was it possible? Abdullah wasn't here. He had gone to Mach with his family and he had not returned home by the time I had my last meeting with the Maulvi. I felt my heart sinking. It was time for the Maghrib Prayer (Maghrib Prayer is offered immediately after sunset) and I sent a message to Khairu that he should keep his tonga ready as I had to go to the old Haveli at once. Ghafura repeatedly insisted that I should go to Shakir the next morning because it was getting dark and I had not fully recovered from my illness. But in my extreme restlessness, I could not stop even for a single moment. I was eager to reach the old Haveli in the twinkling of an eye. Khairu was driving his tonga as fast as he could because I had told him to reach the old Haveli within the shortest possible time. The main roads of the city were not so much crowded and soon we reached the long road leading to the outskirts of the city where the Haveli was situated. I was pre-occupied with my own thoughts and apprehensions and was praying for something good to happen. At last, I was roused from my reverie when Khairu suddenly pulled the reins of the horse in front of the Haveli. I told him to wait for me at the same place. In the Haveli's lawn, Nighat had placed raw apricots for drying them. Now, she was gathering them with the help of other servants working in the Haveli. The moment she saw me, she came running towards me. When her breathing became normal, she started touching my hands and face in extreme anxiety.

   "Brother, what happened to you? How did you fall ill? Why are you looking so weak?"

    In response to her barrage of questions, I had to tell her briefly about my illness. Immediately afterwards, I asked her where Shakir was. I also told her about Abdullah's message. She told me that Shakir had not yet returned from duty. While she was speaking, I gathered from her tone that she knew about Abdullah's message but did not have the courage to talk to me about it. Compelled by the situation, I had to tell her to swear about the matter. Apparently, for a long time, she had been trying to control herself and when I insisted, she broke down and started weeping bitterly. I was already much confused and disturbed, Nighat's condition made me totally unnerved.

    "For God's sake Niggy, tell me something. What has happened? Is everything all right at Maulvi's house? Is Iman quite well?"

    She looked towards me with a wounded glance. At that time, she resembled a person who goes to a dying soldier in the battlefield with a glass of water. But before giving him the last draught of water, he observes most sorrowfully that the soldier is breathing his last.

    "The Maulvi has settled the marriage of Iman and she's going to be married on the 15^th of next month."

    For a few moments, I felt as if I had been deprived of all my senses including the senses of hearing, seeing, speaking and understanding, etc. I only felt a sort of vacuum around me. But then I realized that it wasn't something so unexpected. After my last encounter with the Maulvi, he was expected to take a similar step as a preemptive measure. He had categorically stated to me that he would never agree to marry his daughter with me because, he seemed to be terribly afraid of his daughter's defamation and of what other people would say about such a marriage. Having observed my fanatical and frenzied condition, he did exactly what any noble person could be expected to do. Even then, this news was no less than a bomb explosion for me. Nighat could very well imagine my condition and thus, for a long time, she stood there, holding my trembling hands in her own hands. Human nerves are indeed a strange thing. They can claim to be the weakest and the strongest part of the human body at one and the same time. We know that one day or the other, all of us have to die. Even then, whenever we hear the news of the death of some near or dear one, our nerves seem to be paralyzed for some time. Perhaps, all the time, we are deliberately attempting to assure ourselves that something which is bound to happen, may not happen. The Maulvi's final decision about her daughter's marriage was the same type of news for me and my nerves. In fact, we realize the seriousness of certain things only when they have actually taken place. The very idea that my beloved would soon belong to someone else was sufficient to squeeze my soul. It is interesting to note that I never had a chance of talking freely with Iman. If she had responded to my love in some way, or made some promises with me, my heart might have burst on hearing the news of her marriage with someone else. For a long time, Nighat and I stood silently. With the descending evening and advancing darkness, all the birds had returned to their nests in the tall trees of the Haveli and had become silent after making a lot of noise. Finally, I mustered up my courage and in a quivering tone asked "Who's he? Who's going to be married to Iman?"

    "She's going to be married to her uncle's son Abdullah."

   "Abdullah? But---." I seemed to have lost all my words. It was for the second time in the past few moments that I had been thunder struck. Abdullah himself had witnessed my crazy love for her. How did he agree to marry her? My thoughts were jumbling up in my mind. I was told by Nighat that the Maulvi had an elder sister who lived in Mach. Besides being Abdullah's auntie, she treated him like her own children. While the members of the Maulvi's family were going to Mach with Abdullah, he gave them a letter for his sister. On their return, she also accompanied them to Quetta. When the Maulvi talked to her about Iman's marriage, she proposed Abdullah's name. Being his elder sister, she even said that she had the right to ask for Abdullah's marriage with Iman. Perhaps, the Maulvi himself had been cherishing the same desire and due to this reason, after thinking over the matter for the whole night, he gave his consent to this proposal. But what about Abdullah? Did someone ask his opinion? Why did he agree to this proposal? He was quite justified in agreeing to this proposal. He knew very well that Iman was not to blame for anything in the whole affair. She had not even once looked voluntarily towards me. Abdullah had only seen my mad love for her. My heart itself was asking questions and answering them. For a long time I sat there, deploring my fate. I did not know why Shakir had been so late in returning that night. Moreover, I knew that Khairu must be waiting for me in his tonga outside the Haveli. For this reason, despite Nighat's insistence, I got up to leave.

    "What to do now?" asked Nighat while I was about to leave.

I had no answer to her question. Man can fight against thousands of enemies. But how can he fight against his own hostile fate? I had already received several deadly blows from my fate and did not know how many of them still lay in store for me. After consoling Nighat in a half-hearted manner, I came out and found Khairu waiting for me. The moment he saw me, he spurred the horse and we were once again on our way to the railway station. Khairu had several good habits but the habit which I liked the most was that he never liked to interfere in someone's privacy by asking something from him. He remained silent and waited for the other person to reveal the matter himself. After dropping me at the gate of the railway station, he himself moved forward to park his tonga in the stand. In a despondent and dejected mood, I entered the platform. The whole station seemed desolate and deserted. I had already spent several sleepless nights on the station but the taste of the pain, suffering and loneliness of that night was totally different.

    In the morning, while I was thinking of going to Shakir's house again, I heard Ghafura's voice.

   "There he is Mr. Hammad."

At that time I was standing near the guard room at the last end of the platform and getting ready to unload the luggage from the morning train. I was startled and as I looked around, I saw Abdullah coming towards me. For some unknown reason, I continued looking towards him as if I had seen that young man for the first time. So this was the fortunate young man who had won my Iman. Although he was my rival, I could not call him my rival. He was standing there with downcast eyes and for a while, both of us seemed to have forgotten our words. Finally, I had to observe the formality.

    "How are you? Is everything O.K. in your family?"

    His eyes were still downcast. "Yes. We are all right. I've come here to beg forgiveness from you."

    "I'm not worthy of it. Don't embarrass me."

   "This morning, I went to meet Mr. Shakir. I was told that you came there last night. I've already come here twice in search of you."

    "Yes, I've got the news. Congratulations to you on your upcoming marriage."

    Perhaps, despite all my efforts, I could not hide the bitterness of my tone. As if struck with a sudden shock, Abdullah lifted his head. There was a tinge of complaint in his eyes and I was ashamed of the choice of my words.

    "You have every right to say whatever you like. I may never be able to reveal to you the exact condition of my heart."

    "I didn't intend to injure your feelings. At times words determine their own meanings although we don't use them to convey the sense which is taken by others."

    Abdullah attentively looked towards me. Even at this stage, you are apologizing to me. It really indicates your large heartedness. The fact is that since my childhood, I've been under the burden of the innumerable favours showered on me by my uncle the Maulvi. If I try to count these favours, I may not be able to do so in the whole of my life. He brought me up not as an uncle but as a father, and even more lovingly. He himself bore all the troubles and hardships, but didn't allow any hard time to come upon me. His own hands were blistered but he didn't allow even a single blister to appear on my feet."

   "So was it the burden of his favours that compelled you to agree to this marriage?"

   Abdullah saw me with a shattered look. "Nowadays, he is in such a condition that even the slightest shock can ruin him forever. Yes, it's true. While sitting alone in the room with me, when he removed the turban from his head and placed it in front of me, without the knowledge of my auntie and the rest of the family, I found myself speechless. He knows that I'm fully aware of your infatuation for Iman and perhaps due to this reason, he had to put his honour at stake before me, although perhaps, he has always had the same desire in his heart. But he became afraid when you got involved into this matter. He was apprehensive that in case of Iman's marriage into some other family, compelled by your mad love for her, you might narrate this story to her in-laws; and if her husband comes to know of it, it may ruin her life forever. In the light of all these things and in view of his countless favours on me, what else could you expect me to do? If you had been in my place, what would you have done?

    In response to his question I placed my hand on his shoulder and said "I would also have done exactly what you did at that time."

    There was some movement in his tense body and his tight veins became loose.

    "Didn't I say that such a courage can only be expected from a large hearted and generous person like you? But at this point, let me confess another truth before you. Since my childhood I knew that I would be married to Iman. In his heart, my uncle has always had those feelings of likeness which a father can have for his would-be son-in-law. When I advanced from adolescence towards youth, my first choice was Iman and since that first choice, I've been loving her most intensely. The intensity of love can be imagined only by a person who himself has loved somebody but up to this day, I've never expressed my love. In the beginning, I didn't feel the need for any expression because Iman had always been destined for me. I thought of narrating to her all the romantic tales of my restlessness for her during the first night after marriage. One after the other I would remind her of different things which I used to do. I would explain to her why I used to place peacock feathers in her books, why I used to ask her to bring a glass of water for me while having my meals, why I used to ask her to press my clothes which she had already pressed and why I used to bring betel leaves for her in the cold winter nights from distant shops without the knowledge of her father."

    Abdullah was talking uninterruptedly with tears in his eyes while the noise of violent wind storms blowing in my mind was continuously increasing. It was again the power of love due to which he always looked different from others even in a huge crowd.

   Abdullah was still speaking. "But then you came. I know very well that Iman must not have given any response or any hope to you, because I've known her since childhood. Modesty, virtuousness and tolerance are the most essential ingredients of her structure and perhaps, there cam be no scope for any other form of love for her. The pleasure of her father is the main objective of her life and for bringing a moment's smile on his lips, she can sacrifice her whole life and even her faith."

    "But I don't know why, you seemed to me quite different from others and I began to feel that gradually, you would win the confidence of the Maulvi. As a matter of fact, I became afraid to think that Uncle might crumble before you. My selfish thoughts made me weep in solitude and I began asking myself what would happen if you succeeded in your aim. I had been terribly frightened by the force of your love because your love is a storm which can sweep away everything. But quite astonishingly, in spite of all this, I could never have any negative feelings for you, nor could I ever hate you even in my heart. Perhaps, it was also one of the wonders of your love. But my heart finally accepted defeat when I saw you at the railway station in the form of a coolie. A weak person like me can never be expected to defeat you. On that very day, my love fell prostrate before your love. But alas, Uncle couldn't understand this love. He is a timid and frightened father. Due to his particular training and environment, there is no room for any such love in his heart. Instead, he considers it to be a cardinal sin. I've come here to apologize to you. The members of my family didn't realize the worth and value of your supreme love. Please forgive us all."

   Abdullah's voice was choking with emotions. When I lifted my head I saw that brilliant young man with tearful eyes standing before me with folded hands in the manner of begging forgiveness. I at once held his hands, pulled him towards me and hugged him. Both of us were weeping now because, we had nothing else to say. We could convey our feelings and thoughts to each other only by means of the language of tears.

    What an exciting and inspirational scene it was. Till then, the world had only seen the rivals fighting with each other and taking each other's life. But how strange these two rivals looked, embracing each other and weeping together. One of them was weeping after getting everything while the other one was weeping after losing everything.

     Abdullah did not stay there any longer. For a moment, he caught my hands touched them with his wet eyes and then went away from there. I stood there watching him as he disappeared. I have hardly ever seen such a bold and courageous person. He came to me, bravely told his truth to me and then went back. Most of us spend the whole of our life trying to take such a decision. For years and years, we are unable to speak the truth which may be of a much smaller magnitude than this. During this whole period, we go on telling lies until we completely forget how to tell the truth. The fact is that only lovers can speak the truth; because, love is the only truth of this world and all the other emotions are the product of some hypocrisy.

   If Abdullah had not confessed his love for Iman before me, I would never have known it throughout my life. He did not have any compulsion for revealing his secret to me. But it was his inside truth which had compelled him to come to me. Abdullah had returned after telling his truth but I was yet to face several horrible truths of my life alone and the bitterest of all these truths was that Iman now belonged to someone else.

     CHAPTER 25

     THE WIZARD

After that incident in which Jim quite unexpectedly extended a hand of friendship towards me, Rebecca gave me the name of WIZARD. She did not know that a pretty girl living far away in my native land had taught me every mode of living along with this art of wizardry which Rebecca considered to be a part of my personality.

    Even on that day while sitting with me in the class, she was harping on the same tune. "I'm at a loss to understand how you do all such things so easily. A girl like Sarah had a row with her father but testified in your favour. A proud and insolent son of an aristocrat himself came to you with an olive branch. If it isn't magic, what else is it? I also wish to learn this art from you. Would you like to teach me this whole thing?"

     "I haven't done any unusual thing which is the cause of so much surprise for you. Sarah, Jim, You and I are all human beings and the whole thing depends on our understanding of other human beings and considering them to be human beings like us."

    "But my dear Medi, understanding the human beings is the most difficult thing in the world. However, I hope to learn it in your company."

    In the meantime, Rebecca was called by one of her friends and I received a message from Joseph who was standing near the canal. It was a bright sunny day in London and he was again in the mood of painting. In order to enjoy the weather to the maximum degree, all the students vanished from the class and could be seen lying in different postures in the grassy lawns. As a matter of fact, while living in London I also began to believe that bright sunshine was a rare commodity. Joseph had not yet completed his painting but he had invited me not to show me his own painting but Sarah's painting. Clad in a dark blue skirt and sky blue sweater, she was standing there at some distance in bright sunshine and looked quite indifferent to the whole world while completing her painting. Joseph beckoned me to go to her and he himself became busy in completing his own painting. I went on watching Sarah while she was giving final strokes to her painting. After completing the work, she looked towards me to ask my opinion.

    "It's very fine but it isn't complete yet. There's something missing or lacking in it. It gives an impression of incompleteness."

   "Excellent. It means that you know the language of colours as well. You've said the right thing. You'll get the impression of incompleteness from every painting of mine. But after sir Joseph, you're the first person to notice this short coming. I don't know why I always finish every painting before completing it."

    "Perhaps the reason is that the theme of each of your paintings is some search or inquiry but before the completion of that search, you lose heart."

    Sarah cast a serious look on me. "No, that's not the case. Why should I be in search of something?"

    "You may be in search of truth."

   "Truth doesn't require any search. It's crystal clear and quite apparent. What about your term paper? Have you completed it?"

    "I'm in the middle of my work, but several people are already annoyed with me due to this term paper."

    I was referring to sir Isaac and Sarah looked seriously towards me.

    "I wonder why people are so much afraid of you."

    "Darkness is always afraid of light."

   "But I'm not at all afraid of you."

   "Didn't I say that you're a truthful girl? And how can truth be afraid of light?"

   Sarah laughed loudly. "Didn't I also say that you're very dangerous and you never lose any opportunity?" "

   I also laughed. "Don't worry. You're in no danger from me."

   "By the way, by forgiving Jim, you've changed his heart. The same Jim who was your deadliest enemy until a few days ago now spends the whole day narrating your good qualities."   "I didn't come here to start hostilities. I'm sorry to know that there was some bitterness between you and sir Isaac because of me."

   Sarah was shocked. "Oh this Rebecca! She can never hide anything. There's nothing so serious between me and Papa. In fact, we often have differences and disagreements. Papa was upset because in the last thirty years, no one has ever attempted to challenge his decisions at the university. But I frankly told him that every new thing has to start one day or the other. These words further outraged him and Mama had to intervene and at last, as usual, Papa had to yield."

    "It seems you love your Mama very much."

   Her eyes began to shine. "O yes, she's so dear to me. Papa always treats me like sons and has very high expectations from me. But Mama always prefers my choice. She alone knows the true condition of my heart."

    Sarah's love for her mother was quite evident from her tone and gestures. "Now she also knows a lot of things about you. I'll introduce you to her someday."

   "Sure. I would love to meet that lady who rules over sir Isaac's heart and yours at one and the same time."

    The way I admired her mother made her laugh heartily. "I'll surely tell these words of yours to Mama."

    For a long time that day, Sarah and I went on talking without knowing that we were being constantly watched by someone from a window of the second floor; and that someone was none other than Sarah's father sir Isaac who still had some reservations about me in his heart.

   As the final date for the submission of the term papers was drawing near, I was spending most of my time going through the research books dealing with the holocaust. While studying all these books, I was continuously preparing notes. On that afternoon, I remained in the library for a long time in search of my relevant material. As far as the university library was concerned, it had a lot of material in support of the holocaust. But it proved very helpful to me because, through the comparison of the pro and anti-holocaust views, I was able to gather more facts and arrive at some logical conclusions. Now I was in a position to analyze the matter with the help of arguments on both sides.

    As I was coming out of the University's gate, Sarah's Battle Car passed by me. It halted at some distance ahead of me. As I went forward and looked inside the car through the window, I saw Sarah accompanied by a ripe aged woman who was giving a sweet smile. Perhaps, while I was going towards the car, Sarah had told her something about me. The woman looked towards me with a smile and remarked, "So this is the rebel of your class. He's a very nice boy."

    Sarah smiled. "Hammad, she's my Mama Mrs. Jenny Isaac."

    By the bowing of my head I saluted Mrs. Jenny and she responded with a smile.

   "Where are you going? I'll drop you there," offered Sarah.

   "Yes yes, come on with us. We'll have a nice chat on the way," remarked Mrs. Jenny.

   "No thank you. I'm going to a library near Panorama Square. It's there after the next signal. You may go."

   "No my dear.  We won't let you go so easily," said Mrs. Jenny with a laugh. "We can allow you to go if you promise to have tonight's dinner with us."

   Sarah also nodded her head.  There was no way of escape for me and I promised to come to them at night.

     CHAPTER 26

     HATRED FOR THE WHOLE WORLD

Something strange happened to me after Abdullah's return that day. All of a sudden, I began to hate the whole world as an enemy. It appeared to me as if quite suddenly, my heart had lost all its good feelings. From the day when I had a meeting with Sufi Rehmatullah, till my last emotional encounter with Abdullah at the railway station, I had not missed even a single Prayer. But after Abdullah's return that day, my heart completely lost its faith in religion. My inside belief seemed to have perished and I no longer had any trust in the concept of prayers, supplications and their acceptance by God. To be very honest, every such thing began to look like farcical and deceptive. I stopped offering Prayers and all the time, I was obsessed with the idea that Prayers and supplications were absolutely useless, because, had they been of any use or value, God would have softened the Maulvi's heart for me and instead of being engaged to Abdullah, Iman would have been engaged to me. Whatever the Maulvi had said during his few meetings with me, appeared to me as a false show and hypocritical propaganda only intended to raise his stature as a pious man among others. I had a strong notion that he had deliberately rejected my love for his daughter only to make a show of his piety and righteousness to the people. I firmly believed that his only desire was not to see a reduction in the number of those who offered their Prayers behind him. I imagined that he wished that while he was passing through the streets and bazaars, people should stand up as a mark of respect for him and should praise his nobility and virtuousness in his absence. Thus, he always wanted to remain intoxicated with the idea of his greatness and piety. For most of the time, my mind was filled with such type of thoughts about the Maulvi. Perhaps, I had been deprived of the ability to have some positive thoughts. When I used to go to his mosque for offering the Isha Prayer, people used to discuss strange type of problems with him after the Prayer. For instance, one day, a young man told the Maulvi that he had been facing a strange [problem in his life. According to him, whenever he went away from his house for some work or whenever he went to some other city for his studies and lived in the hostel, he missed all his Prayers. Despite his earnest desire, he could not offer any Prayer, because the act of offering the Prayers only intensified his homesickness. As he believed that his Prayers would increase his sadness, instead of offering the Prayers, he used to go out with his friends and spent that time in watching movies and other such activities.

    In the same way, one day another worried man came to the mosque and told the Maulvi that he did not like to go for Hajj in spite of the fact that he was strong and healthy and had all the financial resources to undertake the journey to Saudi Arabia for the sake of the pilgrimage. According to him, he did not have any responsibility which could prevent him and his wife from going for Hajj and yet, his heart was not inclined towards the performance of this important religious obligation. He confessed that his heart was utterly devoid of the love and longing for seeing the House of God.

    In those days, I used to listen to all such problems with amazement. But even more astonishing were the replies which the Maulvi used to give. Thus, addressing the man who did not like to go to Hajj, he said, "You need not worry about this problem. Everything depends on the power or ability to do something good, which is only granted by God. The fact that you are worried about your lack of interest in Hajj is also an encouraging sign. Because something is better than nothing. So far, God has granted you the ability to feel worried about your indifference towards an important religious obligation. Whenever God grants you the ability to go for Hajj, you will automatically be filled with an intense love and desire for going there. However, you should continue to pray for the solution of this problem, because, if your heart is even deprived of your present anxiety about Hajj, that would be the most dangerous and most alarming situation.

    Similarly, one day, I heard a strange thing about praying to god. A young man was complaining to the Maulvi that his prayers did not have the element of sincerity and his repentance and his act of begging forgiveness from God were also false, without any truth. According to him, his prayers and supplications were hypocritical because, while outwardly repenting for his sins, he was feeling an inward joy on committing those sins. He further remarked that on all such occasions, he could hear his heart saying to him that if ever again he got the opportunity, he would again commit those sins without any hesitation or regret. In reply, the Maulvi repeated his lecture about the power or ability to do something, which is granted by God. "So far, you have been given the ability to beg forgiveness from God in a hypocritical and half-hearted manner, but at some proper time, the ability to pray for forgiveness in an earnest and sincere manner would also be granted to you. For the moment, you should continue your apparently false, pretentious and hypocritical repentance. Whatever may be the present nature of your remorse and prayers for forgiveness, you should not give them up because, the most dangerous situation will be that in which you are deprived of even this ability as well."

    While recalling all such lectures of the Maulvi, I also had the feeling that the ability to think positively and do good deeds had been snatched away from me with my last meeting with Abdullah. In those days, I used to spend the whole time in the same blank and empty minded condition watching the various happenings of the world taking place in front of me. I had stopped going to Shakir's house and did not like to meet Ghafura and Khairu so frequently. Quite often in those days, when Mr. Siddiqi was fed up with waiting for me for a long time, he would himself come to the station and take me with him to his bungalow. All the people around me knew that something had happened to me, but nobody knew the cause of the drastic change that had occurred in me. Daily, in the early hours of the morning and at night, Khairu was ready with his tonga, hoping that I might once again go to the mosque in connection with my vow, without knowing that I had done away with all my vows. Previously, I used to pray most earnestly for the fulfillment of my desires regarding Iman. But now, everything was gone and above all, I had lost my faith in the fulfillment of vows and supplications. I had become totally indifferent to every joy and sorrow of the world. The date of Iman's marriage was drawing near and I was counting these days like a condemned prisoner who counts the remaining days of his life while languishing in a dark dungeon.     It was a long, tiresome, exhausting and boring day. In the evening, I was waiting for the coming of the goods train at platform 2. Due to some reason, the train had been standing for a long time at the last gate. When I got tired, I sat down at the bench under the lamp post and started looking towards the signal in the direction from which the train was to enter the station. Ghafura was not there and I had to unload the entire luggage. As I looked down the signal across the railway tracks, I saw a man coming towards platform 2. He seemed to be a familiar figure. But who was he? With a sudden jolt, I returned to my senses. Oh it was Shakir, wearing the typical uniform of drivers, due to which, from a distance, I had thought him to be a railway employee. Shakir was coming towards me and I got up in nervousness. The moment he came close to me, he pressed me hard against himself and stood there for a long time in the same position without saying anything. When he finally left me, I saw tears in his eyes.

    "O Mr. Hammad, is my house so inferior in your eyes that you didn't like to stay there even for a few days?"

   "You know very well that I don't think like that. I regard your home as my second home. If I were to live at any home, why should I have left my first home? But who gave you my present address? I knew that Nighat won't be able to hide it for a long time."

    "If I had so desired, I would have gone after you in search of you on that very first day when you came to us after leaving your home, but I didn't do so because I knew that you would mind it. Even today, I've come here after getting your address from Nighat. She most urgently wants you to meet her at the old Haveli. She says that there's something very important to talk about. You'll have to accompany me to my home at this very moment."

   "At this very moment? But I've to do a lot of work at the station now and I can come to you in the evening."

   "No no. You'll have to come with me right now. In case there had been no emergency, Nighat would never have given me your address. You know well that you can fully trust her."

    There was so much urgency in Shakir's tone that I had to go with him after handing over the charge of unloading the goods from the train to another senior coolie present at the station. Shakir knew very well that I would not like to sit in the Commissioner's car so he had brought an old Opal car belonging to someone else. Soon, we were on our way to the old Haveli. Shakir told me during the drive that my mother had been inwardly shattered due to my long absence from home. She had sent Ibad everywhere in search of me but as everyone at home was afraid of the Commissioner, no one ever openly talked about my absence. All of them knew that after leaving home, instead of living with some friend, I had been living somewhere alone. Mother had even asked Shakir to find out where I was living. At last, in order to console her, Shakir had to tell her about my well being and about my occasional visits to the old Haveli for meeting him and Nighat. She had told Shakir that if I ever came to the old Haveli again, he should secretly inform her or Ibad about my coming. For a moment, I nervously looked towards him. Was he inviting me to the old Haveli as a part of that secret programme? But then I condemned myself, because Shakir could never do such a thing. If he had such intensions, he would not have told me all these details. After a short while, we arrived at the gate of the old Haveli and he dropped me there. He himself went somewhere and promised to return soon after returning the car to its owner. It was about four-thirty in the evening. Silence prevailed in the Haveli and as soon as I entered through the gate, I saw Nighat anxiously strolling in the backyard waiting for me. The moment she saw me, she briskly came to me. "O Brother, where have you been so long? I've been waiting for you for several days. Today, I had to send father to bring you. Why didn't you come here to meet me? Have you broken off your ties with all of us?"

   Her eyes were full of complaints and I gently slapped her on her head. "How clever you are. You knew that I would be angry with you on leaking out my address but before I could show my anger, you yourself became angry with me."

   "Yes, there was something very serious. Otherwise, I wouldn't have given your address to anyone. The fact is that Haya wants to say something to you. She came here on a number of occasions but there was no news of your whereabouts. I had to tell her that if you came to us again, I would arrange her meeting with you on someday, but you didn't come here for so long. At last, I told Haya to come here today and for this very reason, I had to send Father to the railway station in search of you."

   Haya's coming here was indeed a matter of great surprise for me. Apparently, she was an Innocent little girl. What did she want to say to me? How was it possible for her to come here from her cage-like home? I knew well that it must have been extremely difficult for her to come here alone from her home. "Where's Haya now?"

   "I told her to sit in the round room in the large veranda. She arrived here shortly before you came. In a state of worry, I was strolling here and thinking that if you were not found at the station, what I would say to Haya. You can meet her in that room and I'll soon come there." For a while, I stood there in a state of confusion but then after thinking something, I called Nighat who was going to some other part of the Haveli. "But how was she able to come here alone?"

   "She hasn't come here alone. Her mother is also with her. She is sitting with my mother."

   Having said that, Nighat turned and went away while I became more confused and perplexed. If Haya has come here with her mother, does it mean that her mother also knows what she wants to say to me? While I was still absorbed in such thoughts, I reached the large veranda of the Haveli. For a moment, I stood at the door, trying to focus my thoughts in one direction and as I stepped into the room. Seeing me suddenly entering the room, Haya who became nervous for some time, stood up and said Salaam to me. For the first time on that day, I looked carefully towards her who had a striking resemblance with her elder sister Iman. She seemed to be two or three years younger than Iman. Like Iman's eye lashes, her eye lashes were also quivering all the time and like Iman, she was also wrapped in a large sheet and was standing there with her head bent. I gathered from her expressions that she had come there driven by the force of some unknown passion but finding me in front of her, she had lost her courage. In order to ease her tension, I had to start the conversation; otherwise, both of us might have stood there facing each other, without saying anything.

   "Why are you standing, Sit down please."

   She sat down silently and I too sat down on the sofa in front of her. "I'm sorry that you had to wait for me for some time. Only a short while ago, I was informed by Niggy about your coming here."

   Haya raised her eye lashes and looked towards me. "Why are you punishing yourself?"

   I didn't expect this direct question.

   "Perhaps, this punishment was destined for me and who can fight against his fate?"

   "I know that you are truly in love with Iman, but this type of love is now only confined to storybooks and romantic magazines. The world is now devoid of all those people who can understand this love."

   In surprise, I looked towards that delicate flower-like girl who seemed to have returned from school or college only a short time ago. I didn't expect to hear such mature words from her. Perhaps, someone has rightly said that in their thinking girls are ten years ahead of their age.

    "The problem is that it's not in a person's control to love or not to love someone. The greatest tragedy of love is that it is beyond human control. Moreover, true love never cares whether someone would understand it or not."

   Haya was attentively listening to my words. "If only your marriage with Iman could be possible. But if it hasn't happened, it doesn't mean that you should abandon the whole world. This is the message that I've brought for you from Iman. Her last request to you is that for God's sake you should give up your present miserable life and return home."

   So she had brought a message for me from her. It meant that she also had a heart that throbbed somewhere in her body. Perhaps, she had not yet forgotten my condition which she had seen at the railway station. How innocent some people are, who believe that others would forget everything. At least, that stone hearted lady took some pity on me and through a messenger sent me the message that I should forget my pain and my fanatical love. This gesture of hers was indeed an act of great kindness on her part.

    "If your sister Iman wants me to return home to my relatives, do tell her that I've returned home. I don't want her to lead the rest of her life with the feeling that somebody became homeless because of her."

   In a state of sudden shock, Haya looked towards me. "I knew you won't agree to my suggestion. But why do you wish to bear all the suffering yourself? Why do you intend to subject yourself to so much torture? Even at this time, you are worried about my sister's feelings. Do you think that she would believe me if I tell her that you have returned home?"

   "Then do tell me what I can do to assure her."

   "You don't seem to belong to this world. This world has not been created for people like you. But if it is possible for you, do consider my request sympathetically. It is not just my sister's desire; it is also my humble request to you. You can't imagine my condition when I saw you at the railway station that day. Mother also saw you for the first time that day. She also found you quite different from the whole world. If only you had never been overshadowed by our unlucky stars."

    In the meantime, Nighat entered the room and told Haya that her mother was ready to leave. Haya stood up, begged leave from me and turned to go while I remained sitting silently at my place. Then all of a sudden, Haya stopped for a moment, came to me and gave me a wrapped piece of paper. It's a written message for you from my sister."

   As Haya left the room, I still had that slip of paper in my hand. For a while, I could not understand what had happened. Nighat had also gone out to bid farewell to Haya. The delight of opening the beloved's letter and reading it is only known to those who have actually passed through this experience. Those few moments are no less than Caron's treasure for the lover. In my case, these were the first written words sent to me by my beloved and as far as other ordinary lovers are concerned, they always like to preserve all the words of their beloveds like some sacred relics, though they may have read and reread these words thousands of times. Daily, they read these words thousands of times and on each occasion; they seem to them as new as they were when they read them for the first time. I was rapidly glancing over the page which had only a few sentences written in a beautiful style. Her letter was without the formal greetings and salutations.

"I have no doubts in my mind regarding your intentions and the greatness of your truth. I only want to say that love has no obstinacy because obstinacy is the sign of hostility. Please go back to your home and bring an end to this hostility. It is my first and last request to you."

    Perhaps in those few moments, I read that slip of paper dozens of times hoping each time that I might have skipped or misunderstood some word during the previous reading. In fact, for a long time, I could not believe that I had in my hands a written message from my sweetheart only for me, for Hammad Amjad Raza. Could there a better excuse than this for continuing to live? I could see her picture reflected from every bit of that paper, from its each and every letter and from its each speck of ink. It was not just a piece of paper for me. I felt as if Iman herself had been sitting in front of me and talking to me. Instead of being a half meeting, that letter was more than a full meeting for me. As I looked around, I saw a few papers and a pencil lying on a nearby table. I picked up the pencil and jotted down a few lines on a paper. Ghalib was her favourite poet and during my visit to her home I had seen Ghalib's books there. I, therefore, wrote a few couplets of Ghalib in order to express my feelings for her. She had never been able to comprehend my words and I thought that she might understand my feelings through the words of her favourite poet. In these couplets, the poet says to his beloved that a lot of time is required for his passions to make an impact on her; and by the time she comes to know of his real feelings, he might be ruined.

    On another paper, I wrote a message for Nighat that if Haya had not gone till then, she (Nighat) should convey my message to Iman through her or through some other source. I came out of the room after placing a small marble paper weight on both the papers. There was no one outside and I did not wish to stay there for a long time, because, Mother might have directed some other servant in the Haveli besides Shakir to inform her of my coming to this place. Passing through the Haveli's gate I came out on the main road. After walking for some distance, I found a tonga, sat on its back seat and told the driver to take me to the railway station. I was completely lost in the ecstatic thought that a piece of paper on which she had written something for me with her own hands was so close to me. While I was still pre-occupied with such thoughts, the tonga reached the station. It was getting late in the evening and as I reached the platform, I saw Mr. Siddiqi's Bengali cook wandering here and there in search of me. He was delighted to see me and came hastily to me. In his typical Bengali accent in which "S" is often pronounced as "Sh", he told me that Mr. Siddiqi was waiting for me and that he had cooked rice and fish. I tried to make an excuse by saying that I was tired, but I knew that now, Ibrahim the cook would not go without me., because Mr. Siddiqi must have sent him with some firm instructions. I was compelled to accompany him to his Bungalow. Some chairs had been placed in the veranda and he was sitting on one of them. He was also delighted to see me. "So Mr. Hammad, now we can't see your face for the whole week."

   I smiled. "No sir, that's not the case. Whether I meet you or not, you are always with me."

   He laughed heartily and said, "You've never been short of words. At least, give someone the chance to be annoyed with you."

   Mr. Siddiqi went on talking about different matters and somehow or the other, I also continued talking to him just to please him, although my mind was somewhere else. In the meantime, Ibrahim served the dinner consisting of rice and fish. He always cooked very delicious rice and fish and while we were eating, he was always hovering around hoping to hear our words of praise for him. Man has always been hungry for the praise of his skill and talent and the same hunger can be traced in the history behind even the greatest successes of the world. The same hunger inspires everyone to do something wonderful, unique and different from others and under the influence of this inspiration, man was able to produce the greatest wonders of the world such as the Taj Mahal of Agra. I have always believed that if we had been devoid of this irrepressible desire for hearing our praise, we would still have been living in the Stone Age.

   After the dinner, I begged leave from Mr. Siddiqi who accompanied me up to the small white wooden gate in the courtyard. As I was about to leave, he stopped me and kept watching me for some time, as if trying to explore something from my face.

   "Life doesn't come to an end with the breaking of one relationship and we don't have the right to finish it alone. We can't spend this brief life for ourselves. It is mostly spent for the sake of others and I know that you know well how to live for the sake of others."

   Mr. Siddiqi patted me on my shoulder and went back into the bungalow while I came out and noticed that the Cold Road looked desolate. At some distance from one another on the road, there were the lamp posts installed by the municipality. Their yellow lights could be seen scattered on the road in the form of circles. Someone has rightly said that these lights do not shorten our distance at night, but they make our journey easier. They are like good friends in whose company; even sorrowful times are spent joyfully. At that time, I was missing my old friend Kamran very much. Eversince I had left my home, I had been constantly informing him of the events of my life through letters, but after my last meeting with Abdullah, I had not been able to write any letter to him. While walking alone towards the platform, I was thinking about Mr. Siddiqi who had said something about living our life for the sake of others. It was quite astonishing for me that I was not the only being who was aware of the conditions of my life, all those who were around me, were fully aware of everything that was happening to me. Several people were worried only due to me. I must now move to some other city without telling anything to anyone. Why was I still in this city? There was nothing left for me to wait for. Why was I waiting for Iman's marriage day when that story had totally ended for me? Something was bound to happen and there was no question of when it was to happen. My love was being plundered but still people like Mr. Siddiqi were expecting me to show the dignified behaviour of the captain of a sinking ship. The captain of a half broken ship knows very well that no power in the world would now be able to prevent the sinking of his ship. But even then, in order to boost the morale of his crew and passengers, he stands defiantly and courageously on the broken deck and is finally drowned with the ship. I did not know why the people around me had begun to believe that I possessed a similar courage and determination.

      CHAPTER 27

      THE JEWISH SETTLEMENT

In the evening, Kamran came back while I was getting ready to go to Sarah's home.

   "What? Would you really go to that Jewish settlement? It's impossible."

   "My dear, I'm not going to any Jewish settlement. I'm only going to Sarah's home, situated in the block at the back of the University."

    "I know that place quite well and I call it a Jewish settlement. Before your coming to London, I went there twice in connection with your admission and all the residents were looking towards me in a contemptuous manner as if I were a drain worm and not a human being. None of them liked to talk to me in a proper way. You don't know how difficult it was for me to get the confirmation of your admission from that Isaac. I again advise you to give up the idea of going there."

   With a smile, I patted him on his shoulder and got his car's keys from his hand. "Don't worry. Your friend won't prove to be a sweet pill for them to swallow." I'm only going there to meet Sarah and her Mama. My meeting with them would help me in the preparation of my term paper. I want to have a closer look at their life style."

   Kamran heaved a long cold sigh. "Convey my greetings to that beautiful Jewish girl and tell her that in future whenever she invites you to dinner, she must also invite your bosom friend Kamran because in his absence, you can't have your meal properly."

    At about eight, I arrived at sir Isaac's bungalow and was welcomed at the gate by Sarah, while Mrs. Jenny was in the lounge inside the house, but sir Isaac was not seen anywhere. Sarah's house had been elegantly decorated. The delicacy, decency and refined taste of the inmates of the house were evident from everything. The walls had been decorated with several paintings made by Sarah herself and in one corner of the house, there was a small room reserved for worshipping. A number of candles had been placed in a particular order and I concluded that the candles must have some religious connotation. Sarah became busy in making arrangements for the dinner while Mrs. Jenny sat beside me.

    "Now, tell me something about your life. How were you able to reach this stage? I've heard many mysterious stories about your country and its people, but you don't seem to be so mysterious."

   "I haven't got much to tell you about myself. Distances always give a mysterious look to things and people. But when we get closer to them, their mystery is gone. That's the reason I'm sitting before you today."

   Sarah who was standing nearby and arranging the flowers in a flower basket, laughed to hear my words and addressing her mother she said: "Don't expect to hear from him the reply of any of your questions, because he is habitual of asking questions in response to the questions of others."

   Mrs. Jenny also laughed and I told her briefly about my life. She heard everything very carefully. I asked her about sir Isaac.

    "He'll be coming soon. It's time for his worship. The fact is that there is still some tension between him and Sarah due to the incident involving you that took place at the University and I think that by coming somewhat late today, he may try to show his annoyance with her."

   In astonishment, I went on looking towards that honourable woman who had frankly told everything without hiding anything. Sarah must be the image of that truthful woman and just like her, she always had a clear heart and liked to speak the truth. Had there been someone else, he would have offered any excuse instead of telling the real inside story of his home.

   "Oh, in that case, you shouldn't have invited me here tonight. My presence may further escalate the tensions between the father and the daughter."

   "No, no such thing will happen. Sarah has told me a great deal about you and I myself wanted to see you. Sarah can never support a wrong man and my meeting with you has further convinced me of this fact."

   After some time, wearing his traditional dress, sir Isaac also appeared from the back of the house. He was wearing a long gown, had a cap on his head and a big wooden rosary in his hands. With a smiling face, he shook hands with me and for a while, we talked about the weather and other routine matters. Then, we were told by Sarah that the dinner was ready. It was indeed a very delicious dinner consisting of several dishes which Sarah and her mother had prepared with their own hands. Never before had I eaten some of these dishes. One of them was a special sweet dish made of dates. It had been boiled and filled in small pieces of pine apple and coconut. Similarly, there were salty sausages made of deer meat. There were a number of other such dishes which I was tasting for the first time. I highly appreciated the dinner and remarked to Mrs. Jenny that I couldn't believe that Sarah could cook such delicious dishes. In reply, Sarah only smiled. During the dinner, sir Isaac did not say anything to Sarah. After the dinner, Sarah and her mother went to the kitchen for preparing Egyptian coffee. I noted that Sarah and her mother were doing most of the work and the few domestic female servants only assisted them in serving the dinner and removing the dishes from the table afterwards. I had read somewhere that this is how the Jews show their respect for others. When Sarah and her mother went to the kitchen, sir Isaac and I were left alone at the dining table. He seriously looked towards me and began to speak.

   "What about your term Paper? Is it ready? I expect you to prepare a good term paper which would always remain in the University's record."

   I was expecting the same question from him. "Of course sir. I'll express my views about the topic in the form of my paper after a thorough research into the matter. I'm fully aware of its importance."

     "You must have got considerable help from this university's library."

   "Yes sir. Besides the library of this university, I've also benefited from other libraries of the city. Moreover, I've gathered all the relevant material available on the internet."

    Sir Isaac, who seemed surprised at my reply, lifted his head. "From which books have you gathered your references?"

    I mentioned the names of all the books published till that time on this subject, including the one written by David Wrong. His mood suddenly changed and he spoke in a somewhat bitter tone. "While writing on such important and sensitive issue, why did you consult such bogus and unauthentic books which were written without any research? If you needed some help, you should have talked to me and I would have told you about those books which are thousand times better than these books."

    In the meantime, Sarah and Mrs. Jenny arrived back at the table with the coffee. Having observed her father's changed mood, Sarah said, "Papa, I believe that the matters pertaining to the university should be discussed at the university."

   But sir Isaac's tone was still bitter. "It's not just the question of a term paper being written at the University. It's the question of our faith and our ideology. I can't allow anyone to propagate false and misleading views about this ideology, only to gain cheap reputation and to look more prominent among others."

   "Sir, I've never done anything in my life to gain cheap reputation and to look more prominent among the people. Furthermore, I haven't yet submitted my paper and before that, how can you give any judgment about its authenticity? After submitting my paper, I would honestly and truthfully answer all your objections about it. Sir Isaac angrily heard my words and then left the room after making a false excuse that he was not feeling well. While he was going, he said to his wife in Hebrew that he believed that a wrong guest had been invited to his home. As a protest Sarah loudly said, "Papa!"

    He went inside perhaps without knowing that I knew the Hebrew language. Sarah's face became red with rage and she angrily went towards the room where her father had gone. As I begged leave from Mrs. Jenny, she openly admitted that the atmosphere had become somewhat tense due to her husband's attitude. She tried to apologize to me for it but I at once stopped her from doing so.

   "No don't worry. I've been much pleased to come here. Meeting you has been one of the most exciting experiences of my life and there's no need for any apology."

   "I had thought that during your visit to our home, Isaac would get a chance to know something more about you and this might ease the tension between him and Sarah, but I was wrong to think like that. Throughout my life, I've never seen him behaving in such an indecent manner. He's surely passing through some severe mental strain."

   I held Mrs. Jenny's hand and stood up. She wanted to go out with me in order to say good-bye to me but I again stopped her. "We people don't have the tradition of youngsters being embarrassed by the elders in such a manner."

    As I came out, I noticed a cold nip in the air and small particles of snow could be seen falling about here and there. I raised the collars of my jacket and began walking towards my car parked on the paved path made of bricks. I had hardly reached near the car when Sarah came running out of her house. In her hurry, she had not covered herself with some warm cloth and by the time she came close to me, she had started shivering with cold.

   "How's that? How did you come out without getting permission from me? I went inside for a while to talk to Papa and you came out so quickly?"

    "You went inside so angrily that I didn't hope to see you coming back so soon. Your Mama was unnecessarily apologizing to me and I thought it better to leave. However, I was thinking of giving you a late night call."

    Signs of embarrassment were visible on Sarah's face. "I didn't expect such an attitude from Papa. Please forgive me."

   I then realized that a delicate heart also throbbed in that courageous girl. As tears appeared in her eyes, I said, "Believe you me, I didn't mind even a single word spoken by sir Isaac. People often become emotional about their views and ideologies. I never wanted to discuss this topic at this place but it was he who started this discussion and I had to answer him. But I want to assure you that you, your Mama and sir Isaac have become more respectable for me as a result of my visit to your home and I'm saying these words with all the sincerity of my heart."

   Sarah stood there silently for some time and I could very well imagine what a difficult moment it must have been for an honourable girl like her. The air was now blowing faster and snowfall had started and the silvery white snow could be seen falling on our head. I removed my jacket and put it on Sarah's shoulders and scattered her hair. "Now, you must go inside the house. If something happens to you, sir Isaac would never allow me to enter the University."

   My words proved effective and I felt relieved to notice that the burden of her heart was lightened to some extent. She gently teased me and said, "I've now realized how you win over other people so easily but you must not forget that even now, I'm the greatest opponent of your views at the University and I'll not admit my defeat so easily."

   I was sitting inside the car and smiling. After turning on the ignition, I held my head out of the window and replied, "At least you've admitted today that one day or the other, you'll be defeated, if not so easily, it may be after a great deal of struggle and hardwork."

   With a smile, she bade farewell to me and while I was taking the car out of the gate of her palace like house, I looked into the backview mirror and saw her still standing there in snowfall and watching me while I was going. The snow was falling after touching her hair and slightly dimpled cheeks. She looked like a princess standing majestically in her empire. My car took a swift turn and I gradually drove away from her palace. In this dark night, the city of London and its roads looked deserted and empty. Covered with the quilt of white snow, my friend River Thames was also sleeping soundly. After telling long stories to one another, the tall trees on the roads seemed to have become silent and in amazement, they were watching the snow flakes busy in their mischievous acts. The joy of watching snowfall in a quiet night is only known to those who have witnessed this spectacular scene in a lonely and desolate place at night. It appears as if light is raining down on earth from the sky in the form of tiny snow flakes. The falling snow has its own white milky light and it seems that innumerable fireflies are showing you the way. A large number of such fireflies could be seen at that time hovering around my friend's car. At that time, I was remembering a lullaby that our grandmother used to sing to us during our childhood. In her sweet soothing voice she used to sing "All the stars and all the residents of palaces set out in search of the moon."

   My car was sliding on the road covered with white snow and I felt that I was also a star which had been wandering in search of its moon since times immemorial.