Sunday, August 15, 2010

Chapter no. 1: The Beginning (II)


“Hurry up! Ilaaf, we are getting late.” Adnan was kicking his heavy bike.

Propping with his white land cruiser, he gripped the cigarette between his fingers then turned his face, “still, there is some time”.

Adnan had a look on his wrist watch, “only three minutes are left for midnight, if we reach late then it would be worthless”.

He threw away the cigarette and straightened himself, “You will be in street club at exactly twelve”. Saying very carelessly he moved towards the driving seat.

Adnan smiled on his answer. He knew that Ilaaf was saying the right thing.

All guys who were dispersed on the road, gathered on land cruiser and bikes in just few seconds. They were roaring and with waving hands from sun roof and windows they made a lot of disturbance on the roads.

He was driving very roughly but with expertise. The way he was moving the car on roads in a zigzag manner, riding on bikes adnan and his fellows were continuously behind him.

Before thirty seconds to twelve, they were at the gate of street club. Glowing with various lights, street club was looking like a light tower at the moment.

They were moving towards inside by crossing a crowd, whistling and roaring. Ilaaf was behind all of them. Heading towards the main entrance, a remembrance came in his mind about smoking. After taking out the pack of cigarette, he was now searching the lighter in the pocket of his jeans exactly then, somebody passed nearby to him by knocking his shoulder. The pack of cigarette flew away from his hand and dropped on floor.

“Idiot”, he murmured angrily and got down to pick the pack but the security guard who was standing near entrance had already picked that pack.

The guard executed the pack towards him. Ilaaf looked at him. He was a middle aged, short heighten, firm featured man but his smile was enough to occupy that firmness.

“Thanks”, Ilaaf said and took the pack.

“Mention not”, he was still looking at him with smile.

Ilaaf took out the lighter, held his head back high and exactly then he felt that the guard is starring at him.

“What?” he asked immediately.

“Can I ask you one thing?” Ilaaf surprised on his informality but he felt it interesting otherwise in normal situations, he was not habitual to permit anyone being so informal.

“Yeah, ask”, Ilaaf said in his conventional way with no respect for him.

“What is the date tonight?” he felt himself to laugh at the stupid question.

“Fourteen of August”, the pyrotechnics that started from the ground of street club was the stamp on his answer.

“What is fourteen of August to you?” Ilaaf could not smile this time.

“A night full of fun and a day full of splendors”, the answer was given with purity. Smile of the guard grew deeper.

“Certainly, for you the meaning of fourteen August could only be this”. Ilaaf did not aggravate, although he was arrogant and fretful enough that he never tolerated anyone’s taunting on him. “Go, for you the night of fun has begun”, he pointed his hand towards inside.

Ilaaf took a step ahead then turned back.

“What is fourteen of August to you?” the question was asked in a quite informal and somewhat misbehaved manner.

“It’s not worth to you.”

“Even then”, he insisted.

“For me, fourteen August is the night of twenty seventh of Ramazan, Night of power when light and blessings are being sent to the world, when prays are being accepted and the darkness of the world goes away”, his tone was calm and satisfactory.

Ilaaf could not understand a single thing said by him and even he did not want to understand, it was totally worthless for him.

“It does not matter for me that fourteen of August is either twenty seventh of Ramazan or anything else for you”, his tone was ridiculed.

He moved towards inside.

“Indeed, it should not matter for you”. This time his feet stopped on the voice of the guard. He turned and looked him. “It should not matter for grandson of Adil Laashaari, son of Qaiser Laashaari and grandson (daughter’s son) of Mujahid Baloch that what exactly is fourteen of August for a Pakistani”. He could not blink his eyes.

“So, you know who I am?” Ilaaf was looking in his eyes directly.

“Everybody knows you with this identity, but I feel that this is not your true identity”. Ilaaf had surprise in his eyes. “You are not what you look to be, and you are what you don’t look to be”. He was now bewildered.

The tone of the guard was now dry, uneven and cold.

“So, wait for the time when you will look to be, what you are”. For the first time, Ilaaf feared from his deep, shiny eyes. “But before that time, prepare yourself for the period which will come to you before reaching that point”. The mysterious and incomprehensible sentence had moved a wave of electricity in his whole body. Unwillingly he could not answer the guard.

“To make desire is easy Ilaaf Laashaari, but to walk along the pathway of desire is not a painless thing”. Ilaaf felt as his feet are fixed in the floor.

“Where are you buddy, everybody is asking about you there”, Adnan came by running and reached him.

He jerked his head and just then came out from that trance.

“Let’s go”, Adnan held his arm and pulled him towards entrance.

Going towards inside Ilaaf looked the guard for the last time. He had the same mysterious smile on his face.

The weather was pleasant but he felt moisture on his forehead.

He had reached in the ground where fireworks and uproar were on their peak. He became normal in just few moments but he had decided that on the way back he will use the other gate of street club. He was bewildering just by thinking about that guard.

By moving his hands up in the air and taking a deep breath, he pulled out all ferocity. Pyrotechnics were now finished and some exciting pop national songs started on stereo.

If fast music is being played then people who love dancing do not have any concern with words. Flag that was waving on the top of street club just for one night, with sadness was looking the “Falcons” of Iqbal learning the lesson of earthly things.


3 comments:

  1. I've decided to keep the flag at its place forever... :D

    Third chapter will clean-bowl the previous ones, as usual! :)

    ReplyDelete
  2. Interesting part two, where the ending lines:

    ”Flag that was waving on the top of street club just for one night, with sadness was looking the “Falcons” of Iqbal learning the lesson of earthly things. “

    are beautiful, passionate and worthy of applause and salute.

    ReplyDelete