Both got to their feet instantly and reached the Guru. They touched his feet, prostrated before him and sat down with folded hands. Guru Maharaj opened his eyes after a very long time, looked at them from behind his overgrown white eyelashes and asked them why they had come.
‘O Guru Maharaj, I have seen such an unlikely thing that my heart trembles in narrating it.’
‘O disciple, you have seen nothing yet.’
‘O Guru, if this is nothing then I have seen a great deal. I have seen the mouth of Baldev-ji turn into a snake-hole and a snake emerge from it.’
Guru Maharaj closed his eyes. He opened his eyes and mumbled ‘Om tat sat. Om tat sat’. Then he looked hard at Narendra, ‘O ye who live in Mathura, what are you doing here? Why don’t you go?’
‘Guru Maharaj, this city does not let me leave.’
‘What are you saying?’
‘Every morning, at the crack of dawn, I tuck my bundle under my arm and set out but as soon as I set foot outside the city limits, a roller bird sitting on the top-most branches of a peepal tree flutters its wings, flies down and crosses my path. I immediately turn back.’
Guru Maharaj was quiet. Then he said, ‘O Fool, was there any shortage of sorrows in Mathura that you came all the way here to endure hardships? Go back to your hell and endure your sorrow. And let us remain in our hell and endure our hardships.’
‘But Maharaj, what about that roller bird?’
‘Roller bird? But where is it now? The snake has swallowed all the birds.’
‘And Guru Maharaj, what about us? … Will the snake …’ Ganesh trembled as he spoke and fell silent.
Guru Maharaj closed his eyes in response and began to mumble, ‘Om tat sat. Om tat sat. Om tat sat …’
Trring. Trring Trring. The telephone rang. ‘Hello. Oh, Rafiq sahab … Yes…. Majju Bhai? He was supposed to go to your house first. That’s what he said when he was leaving, that he would take you and then go to Ghazi sahab’s rally.’
‘Yes, yes, indeed he had come here. But I haven’t gone mad that I would want to go and listen to Ghazi sahab’s sermon. Majju Bhai is the only one with so much time to spare. Actually, I wanted to find out if he has reached home or not, because if he hasn’t reached home yet, I will go and look for him. You know there is no place for respectable people in these modern-day rallies. Who knows what has happened there?’
Rafiq sahab’s worried tone betrayed the fact that something had gone amiss at the rally.
‘Why, has something gone wrong there?’
‘Is it possible that we have a rally in our neighborhood and something does not go wrong? Something must have happened. I will go and find out.’
‘Rafiq sahab,’ I was worried by now. ‘You have alarmed me.’
‘No, no, there is nothing to worry about. This is an everyday occurrence. Something small happens and these people from our neighbourhood exaggerate it.’
‘Yes, but it is still worrisome.’
‘It is worrisome no matter what! Anyhow, don’t get too worked up. I am going; I will come back and call you immediately. Or, better still, I will bring Majju Bhai and come straight to your place.’
‘Come quickly.’
‘Yes, I will be quick.’
The phone went dead. I put the receiver down and looked up to find Nemat Khan standing before me. He looked ashen. I said to myself: What’s wrong with this fellow?
He asked, ‘What was Rafiq sahab saying?’
‘He was saying that something happened during Ghazi sahab’s rally.’
‘Jawad sahab, a bomb has gone off there. Many people have lost their lives. May Allah have mercy upon us!’
The ground slid from beneath my feet. I could now understand why Rafiq sahab was sounding so anxious.
‘Who did you hear it from? People are prone to gossip.’
‘No, ji, it isn’t a rumour; the whole neighbourhood is agog with the news.’
‘Really?’ I could say no more. My heart was sinking.
‘Why had Majju sahab gone there?’
‘One doesn’t know when these things will happen.’
‘May Allah have mercy and may Majju sahab come home safely.’
‘Dont worry; Allah will have mercy. Rafiq sahab has gone to get him; he will come here.’
‘So when will he come?’
‘Soon.’
Nemat Khan stood about looking worried, as though he didn’t know what to say next and what to ask. Then, silently, he went away. I couldn’t quite understand what to do. That state of being lost in my thoughts was gone now. My mind that was, at the slightest provocation, prone to wander off, forgot its ramblings; it seemed numb now. I sat like a statue. I was startled when Nemat Khan brought the food and quietly placed it before me. It was the same bland food. He asked me to eat and I began to eat. I can’t say what I ate. I sat there lost in my thoughts. After a long time, Nemat Khan peeped into my room again.
‘It is quite late now; hasn’t sahab-ji come yet?’
‘Yes, he should have been here by now.’ I tried my best not to show any trace of anxiety.
‘May Allah keep us safe,’ Nemat Khan said quietly and went away.
But a lot of time hadn’t passed when Nemat Khan entered the room again. He came close and asked, ‘Has there been no phone call either?’
‘No,’ I answered in a dry tone.
‘Then why is it taking so long?’
For a long time now, I had been trying to make myself believe that there was no reason for worry. But Nemat Khan would repeatedly come into the room, say a sentence or two and ruin all my attempts at reassuring myself. Now he sat down on the floor beside me with his head resting against the side of my bed – which was good because at such times it is better to have company. Having someone to talk to diverts your mind and keeps your thoughts at bay. But my silence had such an effect on him that he too seemed to have sealed his lips.
‘Sahab-ji,’ he finally unlocked his tongue. ‘You go to sleep. In any case, the doctor has told you to rest. So you sleep; I will stay up. If there is a telephone call, I will get it.’
‘All right, I will sleep if I am sleepy.’
‘It is difficult to sleep when one is worried,’ he said quietly and became silent. After some time, he said, ‘Please call Rafiq sahab’s house and find out. Let us find out if …’
This suggestion indeed forced me to think. For some time, I was doubtful, but soon I made up my mind. I thought Rafiq sahab’s wife would be needlessly worried. I tried to reassure Nemat Khan by telling him that it wasn’t appropriate to worry Rafiq sahab’s family by calling them so late at night.
‘Yes, that is true,’ he mumbled and became quiet.
‘Sahab-ji,’ he unlocked his tongue after a long time. ‘I am planning to stay awake though one can never tell with sleep; it comes unbidden when a man is on the scaffold. So, in case I happen to fall asleep and the doorbell rings, please don’t open the door.’
‘Why? What do you mean?’ I was perplexed.
‘Sahab-ji, you can’t tell with anybody these days. People latch their doors during the day; this is, after all, night time. In any case, I have suffered.’
‘You have suffered? What have you suffered?’ I was curious.
‘As I was once telling Majju sahab but never got around to completing the story. You were both in the hospital when one night – possibly the middle of the night – when the doorbell rang, I said to myself, “Nemat Khan, this can’t be good; who is likely to come at this hour?” So I stayed quiet. The bell rang again. And again I stayed quiet. When the bell rang for the third time, I pretended as though I wasn’t there. I didn’t even breathe. The bell didn’t ring again and it sounded as though someone was going down the stairs. I said to myself, “Nemat Khan, you have been saved.” Jawad sahab-ji, there is no knowing these days. In any case, this is a bad time.’
I listened to him quietly and gave no answer. Perhaps this account had no particular effect on me. Still, my ears were peeled to the
door as though any moment now the doorbell would ring. I may not open the door, but I would still ask who was there. But should one not even ask that? Or maybe, they may not ring the bell. I strained my ears to listen to the sound of footsteps. But there was no such sound.
‘Actually, I am reminded of something my father once said.’
Taking advantage of my silence, Nemat Khan continued. ‘Ours was a very small settlement; it was surrounded by a forest on all four sides. I had to go to the city for work and it would be evening by the time I returned. Sometimes, it used to get very late in the night. I would carry a stout stick but still my heart used to beat furiously. My father used to say, “At night, or in the middle of the afternoon, if someone calls you and you can’t see that person, don’t ever turn around to answer.” Once it so happened that I was returning from the city and was right in the middle of the forest when night fell. I walked along, banging my stick on the ground and clearing my throat, when I suddenly heard someone calling my name. I craned to hear; indeed, someone was calling out, “Nemat Khan! Nemat Khan!” I pretended that I had cottonwool stuffed in my ears. I didn’t so much as grunt in response but kept reciting the Qul under my breath. Soon the voice stopped. At the time, I remembered the entire Qul; I used to recite it every day. I haven’t recited it recently and now that I don’t recite it every day, I have forgotten it. Can you please help me remember the entire Qul?’ he stopped, then said, ‘At that time, whenever night fell and I was in the forest, it was the Qul that saved my life. Once it so happened that I became really very scared. It was late at night and I was in the middle of the forest. The trees looked like ghosts. I was walking along when a bird, hidden in the branches of a tree, fluttered suddenly and let out a loud noise. My heart thudded and I began to recite the Qul immediately.’ Nemat Khan quivered and fell silent.
The bird couldn’t be seen; only the flutter of its wings could be heard in the silence of the night and its long loud cry was enough to instill fear. But Ibn-e Habib had never heard its voice nor heard the flutter of its wing; only the rustle of strong feathers as though a large bird had flown quickly overhead. It had caused an unknown fear to ripple through him. So many doubts were growing in him. It seemed as though the city would devour him.
‘O Abdullah, this city of yours is strange; for the intensity with which it attracts, it scares me in the same way. Filled with mosques, baths, gardens, it has cast a spell over me and seeped inside me. So many times, I have felt as though the heavy-hipped moon-faced beloved of mine is somewhere here. How much I have scoured this city in search of her! But in these happy streets and alleys, past these scented baths, walking under the cool shade of the mulberry trees, I have sometimes had the strangest sensation – as though I am wandering about in a wasteland. And O Abdullah, the Seville that I had almost forgotten, has come back to me in my dreams.’ Ibn-e Habib fell silent. He hesitated, then said in a sorrowful tone, ‘But last night, I had a strange dream – as though I have gone there and am wandering about happy as a lark, as though it is the same house, the house that belonged to our ancestors. I am happy. Then I am startled. I ask: “What happened to the date palm that used to stand here?” But no one answers me. I am worried. What do I then see? A cat sitting on a wall is staring at me. I am scared. I am thinking that the elderly cat we used to have …’
‘Sahab-ji, the phone is ringing.’
Startled, I turned towards the silent phone. ‘No, it isn’t ringing.’
Nemat Khan yawned. Then he said thoughtfully, ‘Oh, but it seemed as though it was. I had nearly nodded off. It seemed as though the phone was ringing and I woke up.’ He yawned and spoke in a sleep-filled voice, ‘Now it seems as though it is the last watch of the night; it must be close to dawn.’
His words made me realize that we had indeed spent the entire night sitting up in vigil. And almost immediately, I was overcome with sleep. I slid down from my sitting position. I had barely put my head on the pillow that I fell asleep instantly. I did not even come to know when the birds chirped and when the cock crowed and when the muezzin called out to the faithful. The sound of the telephone finally woke me. I got up with a start. I was about to pick up the receiver when the call ended. It had been ringing for a long time and had finally stopped. Nemat Khan was not in the room. Perhaps he had gone to sleep in his quarter. He too must have fallen asleep at some point; he was right when he said that sleep is such a wretched thing that it comes even when a man is on the scaffold. So the phone had stopped ringing and I was feeling angry at myself. I had stayed awake all night; did I have to fall asleep now? And even if I had fallen asleep, why did I have to sleep so soundly that the phone kept ringing right beside my bed and I did not wake up. I had been waiting for this very call all night long and had fallen asleep when it came. Anyhow, the phone rang again. This time I leapt to pick up the receiver. ‘Hello. Who is it? Rafiq sahab? Yes, tell me quickly … Is all well? … Yes, yes, please come … But Majju Bhai … Why?…. So you will come alone? … But Majju Bhai … All right, I will wait for you.’
Rafiq sahab did not tell me anything clearly; he just kept saying that he would come soon and that I should wait for him. Still, a lot was clear. But despite a lot being clear, I was still suspended between hope and despair. I was on tenterhooks. If only Rafiq sahab were to come quickly. If only I were to be freed of this uncertainty.
I don’t know when Nemat Khan entered the room. When I raised my eyes, he was standing there looking at me quietly. In an effort to reassure him, I told him, ‘Rafiq sahab is coming. He will be here soon. Make some tea.’
‘Okay, ji. What is he saying?’
‘He will be here soon. Make the tea.’
Nemat Khan was far from reassured; if anything, he was more worried than ever. He didn’t know whether he should ask more questions, or go away. He wanted to say something but then he stopped and went out.
Rafiq sahab didn’t take very long. But by the time he came, I had passed the threshold of hope and despair and was free of all my anxieties. So when he came, I was in no fear of what he
might say.
‘Last night was so chaotic,’ Rafiq sahab said as he sat down, ‘that it was hard to say what was happening to whom and who was with whom and in what state. There have been many casualties but more wounded than dead. So, anyhow, we hope that … There was a crowd of relatives and well-wishers both inside and outside the hospital and so it was hard to find out anything. How could one find out anything so quickly? The hospital staff is right in their own way.’ Rafiq sahab’s tone betrayed that he was trying to keep our spirits up and was not giving an entirely truthful account. He was speaking and I was watching his face silently. I had no question to ask, nor any anxiety to betray. Rafiq sahab looked at me as he spoke and he too fell silent.
Nemat Khan came with the tea. He poured it for us and slid a cup each in our direction. Then he went out quietly with his head down. The tea was indeed very hot. A slight steam rose from both the cups. Soon it settled. The tea kept getting cool. We sat morosely. We didn’t speak, nor did we touch our cups.
The tea kept getting cooler till it became ice cold. And we kept sitting glumly and so still that we made not the slightest movement. We were motionless like two lumps of clay and between us were two cups brimming with cold tea.
After a long time, Rafiq sahab stirred. He got up. ‘So, I will go now. Are you all right? Is there any pain?’
‘No.’
‘All right, then. But don’t move about too much. The wound will take some time to heal.’ Then as he was leaving, he said hesitantly, ‘Actually, I haven’t yet given up hope. I am going back there now; who knows …’
I stayed quiet.
Rafiq sahab was leaving the room. Nemat Khan came in silently and spoke in a dead voice, ‘Rafiq sahab-ji, what will happen now?’
‘Nemat Khan, have faith in Allah.’
‘Yes, ji, who else can we trust?’
‘So hold on to your faith. I am going there now.’
Rafiq
sahab left. Nemat Khan too left the room. He must have gone to see him off till the door. But he did not come back. He must be somewhere in the house. But it seemed as though he too had gone. I was alone now, completely alone as though night had fallen and I was walking all alone in the forest … But was I walking? I was rooted in the same spot. It seemed as though I would never move from this spot. This place where I was seated had held me tight. I kept sitting there as though I was bound. I don’t know for how long. Had I any sense of time left, I might have known for how long I sat there stock-still.
After a long time, a quiver ran through me. ‘How long will you sit here like a stone?’ I admonished myself. A friend is out looking for him. Truly, who knows if … Life has become cheap but it is also sturdy. And then miracles are also known to happen in this very life. So why have I assumed the worst so soon? I too should go out in search. Again, a quiver ran through me; it coursed through my body like an electric current. I immediately got to my feet.
I had just about set foot across the threshold when I paused. Which city is this? The same city. Then I am not the same person. I had suddenly become a stranger in this known and familiar city. I stood stock-still. A forest lay in front of me and night had fallen. Then? How long could I stand in doubt like this? I gathered my courage. I tried to gain control over my uncertainty. These feet have wandered through the dust-filled streets and alleys of this city. They will find the way on their own.
I walked for a long time. Not me but my feet kept finding the way, they kept walking. Mosques, baths, trees of mulberry, olives and dates. I know these streets. This is the Bath of Jauza and this is the Rabta al-Tuut and this is the Zina Qata al-Vari. If I go down this way I will come out at the Madinatul al-Humra. I turned towards the al-Qaisar and the avenue of the Grand Mosque. And the Grand Mosque is so quiet. Where have all the namazi gone? I then passed the Jamia-ut Tabaeen. It too is silent. Then as I passed the Bab-ul Nabud towards the Masjid-ul Qatanin and, as I passed Abdullah’s inn, I was surprised. The oven was cold and Abdullah … ? Where was he? Surprised and worried, I walked towards the Bab-ul Ziyad. I walked on and paused suddenly. Where had I come? This is the Bab Armelia but why is the Bab Armelia so deserted. Day and night were coming together and separating. Why were the lamps not lit then? The fire had gone cold. The crowds that had thronged here had dispersed. Bab Armelia was still and silent. Ash was flying about. A half-burnt page of some poetry collection, a book, the manuscript of a philosopher, a malfuzat of a sufi fluttered occasionally. The rest was all stillness. A cat sat in the middle of the road staring at me with its glassy eyes.
The Sea Lies Ahead Page 36