WOUNDED IN LOVE

During my childhood, whenever I received some injury while playing, I never wept before anyone. Even in case of the severest pain, I always attempted to hold back my tears in the presence of others. In all such situations, I would at once rush towards some lonely and isolated corner of the house, where I wept to the full satisfaction of my heart. In fact, since childhood, I had never liked to weep before others, because I had a notion that by weeping in the presence of others, we lose our honour and esteem in their eyes. After returning from the Maulvi's house, I found myself in a somewhat similar situation. I wished to weep but could not find a suitable place for it. It was a strange sort of helplessness. After his recovery, the Maulvi again started coming to our home for teaching Sunny. In those days, whenever he came, somehow or the other, I continued to hover around him, in the hope that Sunny might say something to him about Iman, or the Maulvi himself might tell something about his family including Iman. But all such hopes ended up in smoke. Then, my infatuation assumed another form. I used to wait for the Maulvi's arrival. As soon as he entered our house, I would take out my car and park it in front of his locality's gate, and at times, quite near his street. Having parked my car there, I used to remain inside the car, waiting for the Maulvi's return, hoping that one day or the other, she might come out to open the door for her father. But such things never happened. I had never seen any member of the Maulvi's family coming out of the house, although almost all the people living in the nearby houses had become quite familiar with my car. However, none of them ever objected to my frequent visits to that place. They had often seen Shakir coming to the Maulvi's house in such big cars and they might have got a similar impression about me. The positive aspect of their attitude was that none of them ever talked to the Maulvi about me, otherwise, it would have been quite difficult for me to give a satisfactory explanation of my behaviour to him. With every passing day, my crazy love was increasing. At last, it appeared as if Nature had decided to show some mercy to me. It was a hot summer afternoon and as usual, the Maulvi was giving his lesson to Sunny. I too was sitting in the same room, without any reason, reading the same page of a magazine for a long time. Shakir also arrived there with a happy news for the Maulvi. "My daughter is going to be engaged on next Friday. You and your family are invited to attend the engagement ceremony due to be held in the afternoon of Friday next." The Maulvi congratulated Shakir on his daughter's engagement and expressed his immense joy at the news. But he apologized to Shakir and told him that he would not be able to attend the ceremony, because, he had already promised to go on a preaching mission with a preaching party on the coming Friday and he could not break that promise. He, however, promised with Shakir to send the rest of the members of his family with his nephew Abdullah to the engagement ceremony. The moment I heard these words, I felt as if I had suddenly seen an oasis after wandering for years in a trackless, waterless, barren and desolate desert. I knew that Shakir would surely invite all of us to attend the engagement ceremony of his daughter, despite knowing that no member of our aristocratic family would go to share his joy on that occasion. Perhaps, the whole show had been arranged by Nature to show me a glimpse of hers and exactly the same thing happened. When Shakir requested my father to come, he as usual, brought out some big currency notes from his purse and gave them to Shakir. "Buy something for your daughter with this money on my behalf." Mother told her maid servant to ransack old boxes and cupboards. The old clothes and ornaments which were found as a result of this search were given to Shakir in an old bag. When everyone else disappointed him, Shakir looked towards me and I consoled him. "I'll surely come. I promise." Signs of disapproval appeared on Father's face but they were lost behind the smoke of his pipe. Mother and my brother's wife Abrina also showed signs of displeasure, but nobody said anything to me. No doubt, I had my own selfish interest in accepting Shakir's invitation but it is also a fact that I would surely have gone to his house, even if there had been no chance of seeing a glimpse of Iman. My relationship with Shakir was not that of a servant and master. It had risen above such things and the members of my family had been fully aware of it since my childhood. A long time ago, Shakir lived in the same neighbourhood in which the Maulvi was now living. At a very young age, he had been employed by my grandfather as his driver. He had also been present at the marriage ceremony of my father. A few years later, when Shakir himself was married, my grandfather allowed him and his wife to stay in the servant quarters at the back of his bungalow. These servant quarters were pretty large houses, which had been built at the back of our old Haveli (large house). During those days, my grandfather's relatives who lived in the village used to visit him quite frequently and for this reason, he had got built three or four quarters in the rear of the Haveli. After my grandfather's death, my father got built another large mansion in accordance with the modern requirements. However, our old Haveli (large house) was still present in the outskirts of the city. Now, Shakir and his family lived in that Haveli and looked after it. Shakir had two sons and a daughter. Both the sons often remained out of the city in connection with their work. Some special parties and meetings were still held by Father in the same Haveli. In fact, Father was now thinking of turning this Haveli into his camp office. Shakir returned after inviting us to the engagement ceremony of his daughter, but now, I alone knew how difficult it was to pass the time. Minutes, hours and days had never seemed so long to me as they did in those four days. Friday came at last, after a long and weary waiting. I still remember that before the rising of the sun on that day, I had an intense desire to go to the garden adjacent to the gate of the old Haveli and sit there till the afternoon, because, all the guests had to enter the house from the same way. She would also pass from the same way. What a moment it would be, I thought. I wondered whether I would be able to see her or not. The ceremony was to start at four in the evening, while now, it was still very early in the morning. Like a lost traveler I continued to roam about in the corridors of my own house like a stray kite. It was the day when I realized for the first time, how moments pass like hours. At last, when the clock struck two, I took out my car and rushed towards the old Haveli like a child who fasts for the first time in his life and goes to the dining table and sits there long before the scheduled time for the breaking of the fast. Seeing me there so early, Shakir was pleased and also a bit upset. Till that time, Shakir and his sons were busy in making arrangements. With a great deal of difficulty, I convinced Shakir that he should not worry about me and should continue his work, while I would take a round of the Haveli. As long as I remained in his sight, I walked about here and there in the Haveli, but the moment, his attention was diverted to some other matters, I slipped away from there, went straight to the garden near the gate and sat down on one of the chairs placed there. All the guests had to enter through the same central gate, because, the Haveli did not have any other passage leading to Shakir's quarter. Guests started arriving at about three-thirty and with them, my heart beat also quickened. I became almost breathless whenever I saw a veiled woman coming towards the gate. But there was no sign of her for whom I had been sitting there and waiting as if for centuries. I felt that she might not come. The Maulvi might have forbidden her or there might have been some other problem. Thousands of apprehensions and suspicions were perturbing my heart all the time and adding to my agony and despair. Then, all of a sudden, a tonga producing its typical sound, appeared at the turn of the cold road on which the Haveli was situated. Like the last glow of a flickering lamp, my eyes were fixed on the tonga with a last desperate hope. The tonga halted in front of the large wooden gate of the Haveli. On the front seat beside the tonga driver, there was a young man with a small beard and a bright face, clad in white Shalwar kurta. The young man came down from the tonga and paid the fare to the driver. From the back seat came down two girls wearing black Burkas. Everything stood still and motionless, the wind ceased to blow and all the birds sitting in the trees forgot their songs. It was she. How could I ever forget her delicate steps? She was surely accompanied by her younger sister. Only their eyes were visible from the veil. Oh, the same eyes again! The young man had a look at the grand Haveli in astonishment, because, he could never imagine such a residence belonging to an old driver. Then, he looked towards the two girls as if to seek some confirmation from them. The younger of the two girls attempted to make him understand something. But still, in a state of confusion, he reluctantly opened the gate and came in. Perhaps, all of them had come to Shakir's house for the first time. Suddenly, the Young man saw me and then, I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw all of them coming towards me. I stood up in nervousness. There was a glimmer of familiarity in the eyes of the younger sister and she whispered something to Iman. Perhaps, Haya had recognized me. Iman lifted her eyes and looked towards me. There was a flash of lightning. It was for the second time that her eyes had a direct encounter with mine. I was overpowered by a feeling of ecstasy and it appeared to me that all the anguish, agony, pain and restlessness that I had felt between her first and second look, had now become calm and tranquil. As the young man came near, he greeted me and said, "Sir, is it the house of Shakir, whose daughter is going to be engaged today?" "Yes, you've come at the right place. The ceremony is taking place in the same house." As I showed him the way, he thanked me, shook hands with me and moved forward along with the two girls. With a great deal of difficulty, I prevented myself from looking directly towards Iman, although, she was quite close to me. Even then, I continued to relish a strange and subtle sense of joy because of her nearness. The younger one seemed somewhat mischievous and while she was on her way to the venue of the ceremony, she continued to look attentively towards me. It appeared as if life had sprung back into action. Once again, the wind started blowing and the birds started chirping. With a feeling of exhaustion, I almost fell on the chair. There are some blessed moments of our life which we wish to enjoy again and again and it was of course, one of those rare moments of my life. But unfortunately, whenever something is over, whether good or bad, it eventually turns into a memory. I sat there for a long time, trying to assure and reassure myself that whatever had happened was not a dream and that only a short while ago, she had been present there quite in front of me and so close to me. Soon, from the inside of the house I could hear the sounds of talking, laughing and singing of women and then, Shakir who was in search of me, also came there. "O Mr. Hammad, you are sitting here, while all the people are waiting for you in the ceremony. Please come now." Shakir forcefully held my hand and took me to the men's portion of the house. As soon as they saw me, all of them at once became somewhat reserved and respectful. Their laughing and talking changed into whispers. For this very reason, I did not want to join this crowd. At times, your own introduction becomes a nuisance for you. All the people attending the engagement ceremony, were recognizing me not as one of Shakir's guests but as the son of Retired Commissioner Amjad Raza. I soon became bored with this gathering. Moreover, my heart was pre-occupied with some other thoughts and had no interest in whatever else was going on around me. After some time, someone from the women's portion of the house called Shakir and it gave me the opportunity to rush out from there. I had particularly urged Shakir that he should arrange some open place in the house where his guests could comfortably sit and eat. For this purpose, I had insisted that the main hall of the Haveli should be used. He was afraid of my father's possible annoyance but as usual, he had to yield to my stubbornness. The main hall was now being used for the male guests. In front of its back door, there was the small garden of Shakir's quarter. Behind it, there was Shakir's house. As I came out of the hall, I saw the same young man who had come with Iman and Haya. Standing at the door, he seemed a bit worried. On seeing me, he at once came to me. "I'm sorry sir, I couldn't recognize you at that time. My name is Abdullah. I'm the nephew of Maulvi Alimuddin. Uncle often talks about you." A wave of pleasant joy swept across my whole body. At least, there was someone who talked about me in that house. At times, my darling might also have mentioned my name. At that moment, for the first time in my life, my own name began to look so charming to me and I again shook hands with Abdullah.

"I'm glad to see you. I came to your house a few days ago, but perhaps, you were not there at that time. But why are you standing outside the hall? Go inside, because, tea is going to be served very soon." In some confusion he replied, "The fact is that very soon, it will be time for the Maghrib Prayer and you are well aware of my uncle's mind. We should go back now. I'm standing here waiting for someone to go inside and tell my sisters to come out and go back with me." In the meantime, Shakir also came out from the women's portion and seeing us standing outside, he at once came to us. "Mr. Hammad, are you all right? Why're you standing here?" "I'm all right," I replied with a smile and drew his attention towards Abdullah. "He's in a hurry to go back and says that he's getting late." Shakir was surprised and then he forcefully shook his head. "You want to leave so soon? How's it possible? Even the ring wearing ceremony has not yet been held. I won't allow anyone to go without having the dinner, which would be served soon after the Maghrib Prayer. It's simply impossible." In a humble and submissive tone, Abdullah began to speak. No no, Shakir Uncle, it would be too late after the Maghrib Prayer. It would be quite difficult for me to find a conveyance for my area and you know my uncle very well." "As far as the Maulvi is concerned, I myself will deal with him. He knows quite well that it's a joyous moment for my only daughter and getting late on such occasions is a routine matter. As far as conveyance is concerned, I myself will take you back in the car. It's decided now." When Shakir had given his final judgment, Abdullah could no longer argue with him. He begged leave from Shakir to go to the nearby mosque for offering the Maghrib Prayer. Shakir urged him to return soon and he began walking towards the mosque. Then, it seemed as if Shakir had suddenly remembered something and he struck his hand on his head. "O Mr. Hammad, you see I'm getting old. I forgot to tell you that Nighat's mother wants you inside." Nighat was Shakir's daughter and when I was a child, at the end of every academic year, I used to give all my books to her because, Shakir was always worried about his daughter's education. Sometimes she used to come to our home with his father while she was only a child. I could still remember her as a quiet little child. I always addressed Shakir's wife as Auntie which greatly irritated my real Aunties. In fact, I had become quite familiar with all the members of Shakir's family. Without the knowledge of his parents, Sunny often took different things with him to the Maulvi's house. Same had been the case with me when I was a child. Quite secretly, I used to give my school bags, chocolates, books and other things to Shakir and his family. While returning from school, I used to stop for a while at the Haveli in order to give my small gifts to Shakir's family. In spite of the fact that such activities of mine were not liked by Shakir's wife, whom I addressed as Auntie, I did not give up this routine throughout my school life. Later on, when I was sent to a hostel, I always regularly visited this family whenever I returned home during the holidays. I was sure that Auntie would ask Shakir about me and call me inside. But I was intentionally trying to avoid and evade such occasion. At that time, I did not like to go in because, I knew that all the women must be present there. Even if there had been nobody else, at least, Iman must be there and I feared that in her presence, I might not be able to talk confidently and properly to Auntie and Nighat. Iman must already have noticed my nervousness while she was entering through the gate. However, at that moment, I had no chance or excuse for refusing Shakir. He was standing near me and was determined to take me to the inside room, because, he knew very well that if I was left alone, I would never go in. I had a strange relationship with Shakir and I never felt the need for calling him Uncle or Baba. Whenever I had to call him, I simply called him by his name Shakir and it had been my routine since childhood. I never used some traditional method for expressing the respect which I had for him in my heart. Perhaps, the relationship existing between us, did not require any traditional name or respect. Have the prayers of somebody ever been rewarded by Nature in such a quick and excellent manner? Perhaps, never. "Excuse me," she spoke in utter nervousness. "I---I had come here to get some utensils." In reply, I could not say even a single word. Perhaps, I had permanently been deprived of my ability to speak. Hearing the sound of falling dishes, Shakir's wife and Iman's younger sister hastily rushed there from the other room. They seemed to have understood the whole situation as soon as they saw Iman and me standing there along with broken pieces of glass dishes scattered on the floor. As Iman hurriedly advanced towards Auntie she laughed and said, "Were you afraid of Him? He's our own child Hammad. You may consider him to be Nighat's third brother." Haya put a corner of her head scarf into her mouth to control her laughter. By that time, Iman had also recovered from the shock. She placed her hand on her forehead as if to greet me. In a laughing mood, Auntie told her to go and assured her, "Haya and I will pick up the broken bits of glass. Nighat is alone there, go to her." Auntie once again urged me not to go home without having dinner. I don't remember how and when I came out of the room. What an eventful evening it had been! Had Nature decided to reward me in a single day, for the few good deeds that I had done in the short span of my life? How close she had been to me! She was closer to me than my jugular vein. The fact is that throughout my life, I had never felt so much love for God as I felt on that day. How ungrateful we the human beings are. We spend the whole day expressing our deep love for the things around us, for our dear and near ones and for the various blessings bestowed upon us by God but we hardly ever show our love for that God who gives us all such wonderful gifts in one way or the other. On that day, I was full of the feelings of love and gratitude for God who had rewarded me much more than my expectations. Like an intoxicated person, oblivious of his surroundings, I remained seated in some isolated corner of the house, quite indifferent to what had been going on around me. The dinner had been served and Shakir brought something to eat for me, at the same place where I was sitting. After some time, the ceremony was over and one after the other, the guests began to leave. I was roused from my reverie when I saw the last group of women going away in their shawls and Burkas. I was rather irritated at my prolonged state of forgetfulness, because, by now, she must have gone. I went towards the gate and heaved a sigh of relief on seeing Shakir standing there with Abdullah. With hurried steps, I went near them. On seeing me, Shakir said, "Mr. Hammad has come, and now, the problem will be solved." The car that had been taken on rent for taking back the guests, was being driven by Shakir's elder son but he had not yet returned and signs of worry were clearly visible on Abdullah's face. I suggested to Shakir that if Abdullah thought it appropriate, I would drop him and the girls at the Maulvi's house, on my way back home. "This is exactly what I'm saying to Abdullah, but he's standing on ceremony." "There's no need for any such thing," I said. "I'm also leaving for my home and I'll drop you people at your house on my way." Abdullah was left with no alternative but to accept my proposal, because, it was already getting dark and it was not possible to find any other conveyance for going to that part of the city. By the time I reached the Haveli's central gate in my car, Shakir had brought both the girls from inside. Shall I be able to see so many miracles in a single day? I had never thought about it. After bidding farewell to Shakir, Abdullah and the girls got into the car. Abdullah was seated with me on the front seat, while Haya and Iman were sitting on the back seat. As I started the car, I wondered if the whole scene was a dream. I tried to assure myself that it was not a dream. But the very next moment, I thought that it must have been a dream, as she was present in my car, sitting on the back seat. In the backview mirror, my eyes continued to circumambulate her. Both she and her sister were in full veil and only her eyes were visible. But the very idea of her being so near, was a source of rapturous joy for me. I was driving the car as if in a dream world. Abdullah was a reticent sort of person and I too was lost in my own dreams, and we remained silent throughout the way. For the first time in my life, during that journey, I was angry at the absence of the rush of traffic on the roads; and the whole distance was being covered very rapidly. Both the girls were also sitting silently on the back seat. Iman was continuously watching the scenes outside the window, and she did not try to look forward even for a single time, intentionally or unintentionally. For my part, quite secretly, I was continuously watching her in the mirror. This unknown girl had cast a strange spell on me as I was gradually losing all control over myself. Within no time, we reached the locality in which lived Maulvi Alimuddin and his family. The area looked quiet and uninhabited because of the night time. As I parked the car in the Maulvi's street, Abdullah earnestly expressed gratitude to me and formally asked me to come in. But I thanked him and said, "It's already very late at night. I'll come some other day." Iman and Haya had also got down from the car. Iman remained silent while Haya said "thank you" while getting down. In reply, I could do nothing except nodding my head. I shook hands with Abdullah, turned back the car and moved forward. While going out of the street, I saw in the backview mirror. The door of the house had opened and they had gone inside. Then, somehow or the other, I arrived back home and with a great deal of effort, managed to go to bed. But I still clearly remember that I could not sleep even for a single moment throughout that night. During that night, I realized that the serpent of love had bitten me and its poison was slowly piercing into the whole of my body.