Gul Gulshan Gulfam

by Pran Kishore

  Reeny came in with her basket full of provisions. She was taken aback as soon as she walked in. Angrily tossing her basket on the table, she turned towards Qadir. ‘Did you do all this?’

  Qadir hung his head. Reeny moved closer to him. ‘Did you do this? Why don’t you reply?’

  ‘Yes, he has done it,’ De Souza intervened. ‘I asked him to do all this. Understand?’

  ‘You need space for your friends, don’t you?’ she sneered at her father.

  Qadir intervened. ‘I did it of my own will.’ He continued, ‘You have such a beautiful house, and that too in such a beautiful location, but it is lying vacant. It is a sin. That Liza’s eatery is not bigger than the garage of this bungalow.’

  Reeny scowled at him. ‘Don’t mention that whore. It is because of her that we are in such a miserable condition. If I had not thrown that whore out, Mr De Souza here would not have hesitated to place at her feet even this hut that he has inherited from his forefathers.’

  De Souza implored her with folded hands, ‘Stop it please, Reeny. Don’t embarrass me in his presence. I beg of you.’

  ‘Okay! Is that all? There will be no more mention of that witch.’

  Qadir begged for her pardon, ‘My fault, memsahib. I accept my fault. I will pile up all the chairs in that corner in no time. I thought we could collaborate on restoring this restaurant.’

  ‘But how can you restore it? I think you have been deluded by Mr De Souza into believing that he has the key to some hidden treasure. Oh God! What is all this? Where have you come from to annoy us? Go, go away!’ Saying this, she sank helplessly in a chair. Qadir felt that she was beginning to soften a little. He walked up to her and said, ‘Please don’t blame your father. I thought that this restaurant could be restarted.’

  ‘We need money for that, right? It is an ordeal for me to manage our daily bread. But why am I telling my woes to you?’

  ‘My Mother Mary has sent this angel to help you,’ De Souza said in order to support Qadir.

  ‘You shut up! You and your hallucinations!’

  Qadir grabbed the opportunity. Perhaps God has ordained for me to do some good deed so I can absolve myself of my sins, he thought. Then he dared to go near Reeny again, and say to her, ‘Reeny memsahib! I have some money with me. If you allow me—’ Reeny grew furious again and stood up. She said, ‘How much do you have? A thousand, two thousand – how much? Do you even know how much you need to run a hotel?’

  Qadir could sense that Reeny secretly nursed a desire to restart the hotel. Qadir ran to the veranda and took out his bundle of money from his bag and then came in. ‘I do not simply talk big. I have this much money with me. If we work hard together, it is not impossible to restart your hotel.’

  Reeny cast a suspicious glance at him, trying to understand why this stranger was so eager to help. Qadir understood what she was thinking and hastened to say, ‘I am nobody to do you any favours. I am only lending you this amount so that you may restart the hotel.’

  God has sent me to this new place, he thought, to restart my ruined life. I could not have reached Reeny’s house just by chance. He convinced her that he had sufficient prowess in hotel management, particularly in catering to tourists, and that nobody could surpass him in the art of persuasion. Thus Reeny began dreaming of restoring the old glory of her hotel, but she was very careful to hide her joy and hope. Qadir was adding new alluring colours to her dreams. ‘Memsahib, you just say “yes” and see how the rusted and broken signboard of your hotel once again regains its old glory.’

  Reeny smiled cautiously, yet Qadir was sure that he had almost won the dice. ‘Once the hotel starts functioning and making profits, you may repay me in easy instalments. In return, I will never ask for anything more than shelter and bread twice a day. You may pay me some remuneration after the hotel finds its feet.’

  De Souza was intently following their conversation. He said to Reeny, ‘Say yes, my child. Saint Mary has sent him as our angel. Say yes!’

  Reeny first looked at the bundle of money and then at Qadir’s face. ‘Mind it, I take this money as a loan from you.’

  Qadir said, ‘Of course, just a loan.’

  ‘What is the rate of interest?’ asked Reeny.

  ‘No interest, just a small share in the profit, and that too only when the hotel starts making money.’

  ‘And what if it does not take off?’

  ‘Why won’t it? I will make it, you just watch.’

  She got up. ‘Give me some time to think it over.’

  ‘Great!’ De Souza was elated. ‘Now please give me something to eat. I have shown enough patience. I have not even had a dry toast since morning. Please, Reeny.’

  Reeny cast an angry look at him. ‘This hotel has not started functioning yet. You understand?’ Saying this, Reeny walked into the kitchen.

  At the door, she turned back and said to Qadir, ‘Take care of these notes, lest the wind from the ocean blow them away.’

  Qadir collected the notes. De Souza asked Qadir to come nearer. He clenched his hands and yelled in victory, ‘Bravo! Keep it up. Now go and make preparations. But bear in mind that you shouldn’t forget to get me tandoori chicken when you return. How well that whore roasts the chicken!’

  ‘Which whore, Uncle?’

  ‘You know who she is.’ And then he laughed boisterously. Qadir laughed too and said to himself, ‘This is called old man’s love!’ He put the money back into his bag and began tidying up the furniture. In the meantime, Reeny brought breakfast and placed it in front of De Souza. He ate the bread and the six-egg omelette in minutes.

  When Reeny was about to leave, Qadir stopped her. He entrusted his bag to her, saying, ‘Please keep it with yourself. The money now belongs to you. You may use it to restore your hotel.’

  ‘What will I do with your bag? Business is business. I’ll simply give you a written receipt. And tell you what to buy from the market.’

  Qadir took out the money from his bag. ‘Please count it for yourself.’

  Reeny counted the money and then entered the room at the end of the hall which once used to function as an office for the hotel. Then she came out with a receipt on the letterhead of her hotel.

  ‘Now that you are my partner, you have the right to stay inside the house and have your meals here.’ She led him to the office room. ‘You may stay in this room until I get the room upstairs in order.’

  Qadir walked into the room with his bag. The room was full of office paraphernalia: chairs, table, cupboards and a sofa set placed against the wall. Qadir thought it was a blessing for him. The sofa can function as a bed, he thought.

  He spent the whole day with Reeny, cleaning and tidying the hotel. Then he got a long ladder made of bamboo sticks, which had been placed in a corner of the compound. He stood the ladder against the front of the bungalow and reached for the rusted board suspended with one rope. In the meantime, Reeny got two brushes and a couple of cans of paint. Qadir insisted on hiring a professional painter to write the signboard. But Reeny said, ‘You just watch how I transform these blurred letters into a masterpiece. What can a painter do? I made this board with my own hands.’

  De Souza dragged his chair near the window and watched them with delight. Then he yelled, ‘Don’t change the name! The original name is perfect. This name was suggested by your granny. HOTEL SOLACE. How musical, how soothing! HOTEL SOLACE.’

  Qadir shouted back, ‘It is great, really great.’

  ‘Do you hear me, Reeny?’ De Souza said.

  ‘Yes, Papa!’

  When the board was ready, she kept it aside to dry. After washing her hands, she came near Qadir. ‘Now you deserve a cup of tea.’ Qadir followed her inside.

  Qadir lay awake late in the night. He tossed and turned on the sofa. He was beseeching his saint Dastagir to help him succeed in this enterprise so that he could proudly return to his family as a successful businessman. Every time he thought about Zeb and Bilal, he broke out in a sweat. He felt like a crimina
l.

  The night was nearly over, and the din of the hooters of the steamers woke Qadir. He looked out through the window. The moonlight had dimmed and the morning light gave a silver tinge to the waves in the ocean. After having his bath, he came out into the veranda. The door of the hall was wide open. Reeny was touching the signboard. Qadir went near her. ‘Is it dry now?’ Qadir climbed up the ladder and hung it above the veranda. ‘How does it look?’

  ‘Fabulous!’ she said.

  Having sold their catch to the middlemen, a group of fishermen were walking towards town. They stopped upon catching sight of De Souza’s bungalow. The signboard was shining brightly in morning light. They whispered to each other. Qadir approached them and asked, ‘How does it look?’

  ‘So Mr De Souza has finally disposed of his hotel?’ The fishermen sniggered. Reeny yelled at them. ‘No, we haven’t sold off the hotel, but restored it.’

  An old man from the group begged for pardon and said, ‘Congratulations! When did it reopen?’

  ‘Last weekend.’

  They began to murmur again and turned to Qadir, but before they could ask him anything, he said, ‘Me? I am her employee, a waiter.’

  ‘He is the chef, waiter, everything,’ Reeny said. ‘Do you want to know anything else? ’

  The old fisherman was silenced.

  ‘Now please go away, your wives must be waiting for you.’

  Many more fishermen passed by the bungalow and stopped to have a look at the woebegone hotel with the bright contrasting signboard.

  Reeny led Qadir inside the bungalow. They were amazed to see that De Souza had reached the window without any aid. ‘Did you see? Just the signboard has attracted so many people. When the hotel is actually functional, think how popular it will be.’

  Reeny held her father’s hand, ‘Yes, Papa.’

  It was a Saturday, what the Europeans called a weekend. De Souza had driven his daughter crazy. She had opened the large trunk in his bedroom; it contained clothes that he had worn in his youth and in the days of his prosperity. Old shirts, double-breasted suits, neckties, waistcoats … But not a single piece would fit him now. Completely exhausted, Reeny sat on the edge of the bed and said to her father, ‘Now tell me, what should I do? See what you have made of yourself. All these clothes are of no use. Not a single one fits you.’

  ‘But we have to do something. I cannot attend the inaugural function of this hotel in these rags.’

  ‘Yes. We have to do something.’ Ghulam Qadir entered, bearing a navy blue three-piece suit on a hanger. He had hired the suit from some shop and dry-cleaned it. ‘Take it, sir. Your hotel is to be inaugurated and you cannot sit in the function wearing these tattered clothes. How can this servant of yours allow that to happen?’

  De Souza measured the coat against his shoulders and then held Qadir’s hand and kissed it repeatedly. ‘Oh my dear son! How many things you take care of! You are great. Do you see, Reeny? See, he is the one who will take good care of this bungalow. Now I can die a peaceful death.’

  Reeny’s eyes filled with tears. ‘Stop this. Yes, now he is everything to you. I have shrivelled to a thorn serving you, but you just ignore that.’

  She cast a miserable glance at Qadir for the first time and said, ‘You are a sycophant!’

  ‘This is not sycophancy,’ said Qadir. ‘This is how one should respect the elderly.’

  De Souza put on the suit. Reeny looking at him lovingly while he picked out a tie. She asked Qadir, ‘Where did you get this suit from?’

  ‘You know there is a market of second-hand goods for the fishermen. See how neatly it fits him. I am sure everyone will admire Uncle.’

  ‘Come on. There are many other jobs pending.’

  Before going out with Reeny, Qadir went to De Souza and said, ‘Any more service, sir?’

  ‘No. Thank you.’

  The sun had hardly set when a brightly dressed band of folk dancers and folk singers arrived. They alighted from the bus and came running towards Reeny’s bungalow to greet her. She looked at them in amazement. Qadir came out and showed the artistes to the space reserved for them.

  Reeny stopped him. ‘What is all this? Who has ordered this show?’

  ‘It was my idea. Music and dance will attract crowds, publicize the hotel.’

  ‘Did my father advise you to do so?’

  Qadir nodded.

  ‘But who is going to pay them?’

  ‘He did not only give me their address, but also a letter addressed to their leader. He was very happy to receive the letter. He has come only to fulfil his duty as a friend.’

  ‘What have you come to fulfil?’

  ‘This is a friend’s gift. Now you will have to arrange for their drinks and food. Understand?’

  In the meantime, two artistes unloaded a big box from the bus. Qadir looked at Reeny. ‘Do you see? This is true friendship. They have brought their provisions along.’

  De Souza managed to come out of his chair and hugged and kissed his old friend the maestro Braganza. ‘Old times have returned,’ Braganza said, holding De Souza in an embrace. ‘Old man!’

  ‘Yes, Braganza, yes.’

  After congratulating De Souza, Braganza came out. As soon as he took the guitar in his hand, all the artistes thronged around him. They started singing the symphony. The dancers began to sway too. Guests started coming in groups. Qadir, Reeny and a couple of hired attendants waited on the guests. Those who were familiar with De Souza went into the bungalow to greet him. Hotel Solace was relaunched with much pomp and splendour.

  All the guests and the customers left by midnight. Qadir and Reeny sat down and assessed the expenditure incurred towards the function. De Souza who was falling asleep in his chair, his chin touching his belly. ‘Oh God! We have been unmindful of Uncle! See how he has nodded off in his chair.’ They got up and hauled De Souza to his bedroom.

  Qadir felt proud. He wanted to tell Reeny that this success was made possible by him, but it was too soon to brag about his prowess.

  The next day there was a rumour in the market that De Souza had won some lottery. How could he restart his hotel when he was almost a pauper? Business rivals were beginning to feel jealous of him. But those who knew what Reeny had endured since her mother’s death were very happy for the daughter and father.

  Within a month or so word about Ghulam Qadir’s delicious kebabs, roasted rib-meat, and fragrant stew spread among all the tourist travel agencies. Reeny had to appoint four attendants to wait on their customers. Gradually, Qadir took the management under his own control on Reeny’s insistence.

  Reeny got the room upstairs furnished for Qadir; it overlooked the ocean. One day she came to his room and placed thirty thousand rupees before him. ‘You once loaned this amount to me. Daddy will assess the interest due on it and pay you that as well.’

  Qadir’s heart almost sank. He hastened to say, ‘Does it mean that I should leave this place now.’

  ‘Are you crazy?’ Reeny sat beside him. What will I do without you? You are now my partner. This hotel belongs as much to you as it does to me. As far as the bungalow is concerned, it belongs to my Daddy. He may even write that to you in the future.’ She then laughed. ‘So keep this money.’

  ‘Deposit it back into the account,’ Qadir said angrily. ‘When I really need it, I will ask for it. The salary that I get is enough for me. We have to make this place the best hotel in the city.’

  ‘Oh! You are a daydreamer!’ Reeny smiled and took the money back.

  Qadir put on his suit and went down to meet De Souza in his room. He was nicely dressed and waiting for him. Qadir helped him walk to his easy chair. Looking at Qadir filled his heart with a strange but sweet love. This love intensified whenever he saw Qadir and Reeny together.

  Reeny and De Souza were happy, but Qadir sometimes seemed to get lost in his thoughts. The fear that he could get exposed made him gasp for breath.

  One day he dreamed of his father and mother: They were stranded in the midd
le of the sea and were desperately calling out to Qadir. He ran helplessly on the shore, trying to respond to their calls, but his voice choked. He woke up with a start. Then he could not go back to sleep. He got up and stared at the tides in the sea. His conscience cursed him: ‘Qadir! What kind of a son are you? You have been here for so long building your career, while your old and ailing father is in Bombay. You did not even bother to send word to him that you are well here and busy fulfilling the promise you made to him in the letter.’

  He decided to write to his father. But if he sent the letter to Vijay Kumar’s address, they would find out where he was on seeing the postal stamp. It would be better to send the letter through some tourist hailing from some far-off place.

  Narayan Joo took Malla Khaliq again to the doctor. The doctor conducted tests and told him he was suffering from anxiety disorder.

  Malla Khaliq remained quiet with his eyes shut until they returned to Vijay Kumar’s house. They found Vijay Kumar impatiently waiting to see them. The moment his father took a seat, he handed the letter to him. ‘See, I told you Ghulam Qadir would certainly send us some message!’ Narayan Joo gave the letter to Malla Khaliq, but he said, ‘You read it please, let me know what he has written so graciously.’ Narayan Joo took the letter and started reading:

  ‘I know the agony I have caused you. I am also as restless as a live fish in a hot pan. Nevertheless I know that one has to go through many ordeals and stay away from loved ones for a long time in order to get one’s sins absolved and start life afresh. I want to make my family proud of me. Abba, God has bestowed his mercy on me and brought me to a place where I will certainly achieve my goal very soon. I will surely inform you about my location and my work, but all in good time. Kindly forgive me for all my sins and pray for me. Your worthless and sinful son, Ghulam Qadir.’