Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Chapter no. 4: Wali Daad (III)

He had reached Karachi before sunrise. Last night he had called Adnan to tell him that he has left for Karachi and now Adnan should also come to Karachi but whatever Adnan had told him, his whole excitement was deceased after that.

While leaving Quetta and on his way to Karachi, he had made further plans for the coming days. Adnan was a good Tennis player; he had thought to practice tennis with Adnan after reaching Karachi and furthermore to finalize the plan of the northern areas visit. For last two and half months he and Adnan were thinking to visit Sawat, Kaghan and some further northern areas but every time their plan had been ruined due to some reason. Due to some commitments of Ilaaf, they had to put the plan back and now, when he had come from Quetta preparing himself mentally that will move towards the northern areas being free then at the last moment Adnan had some serious commitments.

Adnan’s sister was going to be engaged. It was just coincidence that Adnan was already there otherwise in any case he would have to go to Lahore in such condition; instead of the fact that he was a first grade vagrant and careless man, could not behave in an unconcerned manner. The engagement was after two weeks and Ilaaf knew that even after the engagement, Adnan would not be able to come immediately. Adnan was a Punjabi and an occasion in his family like this meant the several weeks’ partying full of celebrations. Adnan even had not told him this very pleasantly, he was also upset seeing the plan was ruined once again but Ilaaf’s mood was totally off; during the whole traveling he had remained in a very bad mood; everything was looking like so awful suddenly; tried to get himself in the right mood but was worthless. He was feeling himself extraordinary pathetic.

Adnan had invited him in the engagement but he refused to go without any hesitation, these all things were seemed to be wastage of time for him. In the case of marriages, he had always idealized the west.

“Well, White men are better in this case. Getting married in the church and then celebrations are even finished in minimum time, neither the long time celebrations like Dholki and Mayoon, Mehndi nor having thousands of necessaries of these celebrations; time and money are both saved.” He had still remembered a saying of his Urdu teacher at convent.

Anyhow, before reaching home he had normalized himself to some extent. The whitish light was appearing at some places; Fazal was waking to welcome him; he came in his room asking Fazal for the coffee. When Fazal brought the coffee, he had taken shower and now was fresh.

After having coffee, he smoked three cigarettes in a series standing on the terrace, then came inside. Turning off the lights, he drew the curtains and got onto the bed. Before turning his side and closing his eyes, he looked the time in the time piece at the side table; it was half past six in the morning. Then he closed his eyes and given himself into the hands of sleep.

Was it a sense of touch or a feeling, a dream or an illusion that was present in his disturbed slumber? Somebody who was just near him but he had not the courage to touch him by raising his hand. Then a hand slipped on his forehead, he could feel the touch. And then somebody’s lips were just besides his ear, somebody was singing in his ears. He wanted to turn his side and see the face but his intentions were not in his control.

He could hear the voice, very clearly. It was the voice of a woman.

“Diya hausla jis ney jeeney ka hum ko,

(The one which gave us the courage to live)

Wo ik khubsurat saa ehsaas ho tum.

(You are that beautiful feeling)”

The voice was sweet and melodious, felt like a lullaby to him.

“Jo mit,ta nahi dil sey tum wo yaqeen ho,

(The belief that does not leave the heart)

Hamesha jo rehti hai wo aas ho tum.

(You are the hope that lives forever)”

The voice was taking him into the grasp of sleep, giving him the buck-ups.

“Ye socha hai hum ney k ab zindagi bhar,

(We have decided that now for the rest of the life)

Tumhari mohabbat ko sajda Karen gey.

(We will bow down to your Love)”

He now could not hear the voice. The peaceful darkness of the sleep was spread all around.

The moment that darkness vanished, the room had not much light.

He looked the wall-clock. It was half past five in the evening.

He got up rubbing his eyes; coming towards the window, pulled the curtains back. The Sun was still on the sky but its light was now dimmed. These were the last days of September, the weather of Karachi was hot, and even then the air at this time of evening was refreshing. He kept walking on terrace and kept getting rid of the laziness that had overwhelmed him, and then came inside.

Fazal was keeping the things to their original position in the room.

“Saaiyen! Would you like to eat something? You didn’t eat even in the morning.” Ilaaf had felt that he is really hungry.

“Yes, I am feeling hungry and now it’s almost six in the evening. Do one thing, set the dinning table, I will take proper meal.” Fazal shook his head and moved towards the door.

“Listen, Fazal!” Ilaaf called him, “When I was sleeping, had anybody come into my room?”

“No, Saaiyen.”

“I mean, you or any other servant……or any guest who would have come to meet me.” He had just said under an impression.

“No, Saaiyen. I know that you don’t like anybody to enter into your room unnecessarily; therefore since you had slept I have also come into your room just now when you have wakened up. And without my permission, none of the other servants comes into your room, Saaiyen. No guest arrived during this period, if had come even then I would never let them to come into your room like this, Saaiyen.” Fazal described in detail.

“Alright, you can go.” Fazal went out.

Taking a deep breathe, he sat onto bed.

So, it was just a dream. But he had felt a sense of touch on his forehead and even in the sleep the feeling was so intense that to neglect it by considering as a dream was not easy. And that voice, no doubt the echo of that voice was still in his ear. And those words….he had not remembered very well, but he knew that they were from a poem or a song and perhaps he had listened them somewhere before.

He came out of the room after a while and was fresh now. He was smoking a cigarette after having meal, sitting in the lounge and surfing the channels on T.V when got a call from Adnan. After Adnan, he also talked to some other friends on phone and therefore he was feeling much better now.

He wanted to spend some of his time outside at night. Adnan was not in Karachi and he was not in a mood to have some fun alone. It was just a coincidence that Rohail called him at the moment and advised that they had not met for many days, should meet somewhere.

Ilaaf‘s wish came true.

After one hour, both of them were going towards sea view in the white fairy of Ilaaf.

“You had planned to go Quetta suddenly; otherwise I was fully prepared to go with you this time.” Rohail was saying after hearing the details of his visit to Quetta.

“Just made the plan suddenly, otherwise would have informed you.”

“Where is Adnan? Not in Karachi for sure, otherwise how can you forget to bring him with you?” Ilaaf smiled.

“He has been to Lahore. His sister is going to be engaged after two weeks; will be back after that.”

“Hmmm means at least for two or three weeks, one is not supposed to take an appointment to meet you.”

“Don’t talk rubbish, Rohail.” Both of them started laughing.

“I know, you too are very possessive about Adnan, but how much he is possessive about you Ilaaf, being so much possessive sometimes proves to be dangerous.”

“Why are you jealous with our friendship?”

“Yes, perhaps I am jealous too because you give him the priority over me. But more than this I care for you; his company will be proved not much good for you, Ilaaf.”

“Company of nobody can be proved good or bad for me, Rohail. Don’t worry for that.”

“Sometimes I think, your wife would probably consider Adnan as her enemy. Her life would become miserable due to Adnan, the poor one; whoever she would be, I feel sympathy for her.”

He laughed in a cracking voice and then kept laughing for a while.

“Don’t worry for that. I have no plan to get married for several years. You and Adnan will get married before me so this problem will be solved itself.” Rohail also laughed this time.

“Well, tell me, will you come at my birthday party? This time I am going to celebrate at home because Papa has been to Canada for a business tour; all of my University friends will come.”

“Yes, will come if till the time didn’t decide to go anywhere else.”

“I could never understand you, Ilaaf. Don’t know what restlessness you have; never remained in Karachi peacefully more than few days.” Rohail answered in an odd manner.

He dropped the Rohail at his home and when reached back home, it was very late at night. He changed the dress and slept.

When he got up in the morning, his mood was pleasant because he had not any dream this night and had taken a peaceful sleep.

At half past twelve, he had got a call from Nadir Siddiqui. He was in the studio at the time; with some new colors he had initiated to paint a new painting. He just had stroked thrice when Fazal knocked the door and then came inside; he had the cordless phone in his hand.

Ilaaf put the brush and took the phone from him.

He had recognized Nadir Siddiqui’s voice.

“The problem has now become worst, Ilaaf. The news about Wali Daad has been published in the headlines of several newspapers today morning, few journalists have also written the columns in the editorials; not only this, a few minutes ago some of the T.V. channels also telecasted the news in the bulletins. Now, we will do something very quickly; before the matter could reach in the court, we have to solve it out.”

“And if the matter reached in the court, then……”

“Will see then and there. In any case, this has been decided that we will not return the land to Wali Daad in any condition.” Ilaaf squeezed his lips. His wish was not accepted; now unwillingly he had to participate in this cruel act.

“Tell me, are you coming with us tomorrow to Press club?”

“When to go?” He said the words with difficulty.

“Will go tomorrow morning and will try to go at a time when minimum people from media would be there. I will confirm you till night.”

He put the cordless besides the brush and the palette on the table and he sat on the rocking chair. Now he did not want to paint anything.

He didn’t want to go to press club along with them; he didn’t want to be a part of this cruelty. His mind now started to think that somehow he could use any trick to refuse to go but there was not any option which he could felt as suitable.

Till evening in little intervals, he tried to think about different options, but could not decide anything.

Daada Saaiyen called him at night; perhaps he had an idea that he would not be showing interest in this matter.

“If your father would have been here, he could see everything himself but now in his absence both of us have to look after all the matters. I am trying to solve the problem on my own also but can not come Karachi right now, therefore you have to go with Nadir and Habib to press club tomorrow and if possible, then try to convince the farmer to have a peaceful treaty. Remind him that it is better for him to end the hunger-strike without any uproar and to go back village, Nadir and Habib will give him each and every help financially.” He wanted to say to Daada Saaiyen that why don’t you convince Nadir and Habib not to put themselves and Wali Daad in difficulties just for few canal lands, but he didn’t say anything; knew that saying anything would be worthless.

“Nadir and Habib are very much supporting our party in Nawab Shah; we will have to help them right now. You will have to take hold of all these things in future therefore it is better that you start to understand these matters.”

He was very much confused; was not able to decide anything but he could not remain in a mental state like this for much time; he was now feeling irritation even to think about it. Already his whole day was ruined due to these thoughts and he didn’t want to waste his time anymore.

“If Daada Saaiyen wants me to go with Nadir and Habib to press club then I will go; will become a part of this cruel act. After all I am the grandson of Aadil Laashari; he would try to teach me whatever he has learned. Being the heir of two big estates, I will have to pay something in return.”

He said and satisfied himself. Nadir had told him the time at which he had to reach press club and asked him to reach at time.

He set the alarm in the time-piece and slept peacefully; didn’t know that being the only heir of two political families, whatever he was going to pay in return, will be a burden to him for his entire life.

The next morning he had reached press club at time. Nadir and Habib were already there along with some of their political friends.

It was first October; so early in the morning, not much of the media related people were present there even then their presence there had attained the attraction of so many people. The people of the administration of the Press club and the road-walkers were also gathered. Few persons from media were also there but they were less in number.

Wali Daad was woke up but sat on the uninhabited plot on the opposite side of the press club where he was sleeping at nights these days. His family members were also there.

They came towards Wali Daad together and one by one. There was a crowd on the road; they wanted to see this twist of the story.

Ilaaf was at the back of all. He just gazed the crowd for a moment then became unconcerned; his position there himself was not more than a viewer, this was another thing that for the viewers he was an important character of that story who was deeply attached to the whole matter. He didn’t care about that; perhaps he would have cared if he knew that this will appear as a dark and cruel reality of his life.

Nadir and Habib were now sitting around Wali Daad and trying to convince him with different methods. Sometimes they had offered him that they will help him to let his son getting higher education, sometimes they had started to threat him that they are strong enough to finish his whole family at once. On the other hand, the old Wali Daad had just one word on his tongue; No; refusal and that refusal was so firm that any threat at the moment could not transformed into agreeing.

“Saaiyen, you did injustice with me.” Wali Daad was speaking to Nadir, “Now, you do what you can, and I will do what I can. Will happen what just Allah Saaiyen has written.” His tone had a satisfaction like he is not sitting on a hunger-strike but having a picnic in front of the press club.

To convince a madman like him was just impossible; at least Ilaaf had felt like this.

People came along with Nadir, now were also trying to convince Wali Daad. Some were being courteous while some were threatening him. Standing there, Ilaaf looked everything silently.

They were also talking to Ali Daad, the son of Wali Daad and asking him to convince his father. For a while the boy kept hearing all of them then went away by saying that whatever step his father will take, he will be on his side no matter what would be the result.

The communication in both Sindhi and Urdu, he was looking keenly but was silent.

“Wali Daad, you are very stubborn and with your stubbornness you are making your and yours family’s life difficult.” Somebody commented.

Ilaaf didn’t feel that he is stubborn; to fight for one’s own rites is not called stubbornness. After few minutes all of them were tired of this worthless trying.

“Whatever we had to say, we have said Wali Daad. Now don’t complain to us that we didn’t care for you.” Nadir had stood. Wali Daad moved his head and looked him.

“Wali Daad never complained to anyone Saaiyen, because Wali Daad doesn’t believe on complaining. Wali Daad believes on fate Saaiyen and fate is made by Allah Saaiyen.”

Nadir had an impression like a lost gambler, on his face despite of fact that he had won the game, he just had to defend his honor now and he…… who had lost every game, was satisfied like nothing has happened.

Everybody was ready to go back. The circle of people around Wali Daad was broken. Nadir turned towards Ilaaf

“Do you have something to say Ilaaf, to Wali Daad.” Ilaaf shook his head negatively.

“I think now there is no need to..” He replied seriously and Wali Daad moved his head up, the same moment.

His eyes were met with Wali Daad’s. His old eyes having no shining at all were attractive; a strange and nameless attraction which made something inside Ilaaf, to move in a roughly manner. His eyes had an impression.

Ilaaf had felt like he had seen this impression somewhere before; the guard at the street club gate and the beggar sitting at the road outside the casino; yes, this impression was in their eyes, the impression of a lunatic.

Wali Daad had smiled. His smile was mysterious.

Wali Daad now moved his head down. Ilaaf came towards his car along with Nadir, Walking.

“Now, we will have to think about anything else. He doesn’t show any elasticity.” Nadir was like talking to himself. “I will talk to your Daada Saaiyen about it.” Ilaaf shook his hand with him.

He could only feel sympathy for Nadir right now. The one who had made his peaceful life miserable just for few canal lands; anyone could just feel sympathy for him.


  1. ”He didn’t care about that; perhaps he would have cared if he knew that this will appear as a dark and cruel reality of his life.”

    This sentence means writer is already in the future and the prognosis is about something that is known, this approach if developed in the mind of narrator is termed as stream of consciousness. If the narrative is not in the stream of consciousness than the writer is acting as creator of a work that would eventually take a shape that is designed by him only and the characters not shape their destiny?

  2. Sir Akhtar, thank you for reading the post. I can not comment right now about both of the possibilities that you drawn from this line, but I will just say one thing. Ilaaf would not be able to shape his destiny until and unless he let himself to be traveled on a way he doesn't know anything about. This is not about the stream of consciousness or design of the creator, it is about a secret of Ilaaf's life he is not aware of, but the writer knew.

  3. k! so Ilaaf finally met Wali Daad... and felt the experience similar to that beggar and guard previously! :D

    my favorite scene was "The 3rd meeting", where Ilaaf is standing at the back of whole bunch of people, who are trying to convince Wali Daad. I really enjoyed watching the clip! Well explained post!

    Well.. I was expecting Ilaaf's surprised action when he saw the same impression in Wali Daad's eyes. lol.. i guess i have to wait :D

    Hehe... those few canal lands made Ilaaf to meet Wali Daad :p

    Nice work Nadir mian! This made me think that villains are also important :D

  4. riz, thank you for reading and commenting.

    Yes, you have to wait. The feeling is itself very strange for Ilaaf right now and you have to walk along with Ilaaf.

    You have rightly said that villains are also very important, because any worst could result to bring the best in front.