The Black Rainbow

by Hussain Zaidi

  “You are right Saad Khan,” Rustam Shah assented. “Since you are in charge of bomb blasts, make arrangements accordingly.”

  “Shouldn’t we target the traitor Malik Naseem,” another militant asked?

  “No. This is not the right time,” Rustam Shah stated categorically. “First there is huge security around him, which it would be difficult for us to break in. If we target him, he‘ll be saved and I don’t want him to be turned into to a hero. Second, we should give him a chance for he is the best among the worst. By the grace of Allah we’ll make him negotiate with us.”

  “I believe you have some new recruits. How is their training going,” Rustam Shah asked Saad Khan.

  “It’s going at full swing,” Saad Khan replied. Perhaps the ameer would like to address them.”

  “Yes after the prayers I’ll speak to these fortunate boys whom Allah Almighty has chosen for this noble cause.”

  After the sunset prayers, Rustam Shah along with Saad Khan and some other militants went to that part of the seminary where a batch of ten boys was being trained. They were aged between twelve and sixteen. Seeing the militant leaders they stood, more in awe than in respect.

  “Assalam-o-Alaikum,” Rustam Shah said in an imperious voice. “Among the millions of people in this country you are the most fortunate ones to be chosen for the completion of our noble mission. We are fighting for the glory of our great religion and that’s why the forces of kufr have united against us. It is regrettable that some of the misguided souls in our own ranks are serving them. Today we are in minority but by the grace of Allah Almighty soon we’ll purge this country of the forces of evil and establish a truly Islamic state here.”

  Rustam Shah took a pause and looked at his young audience, who, their faces unmistakably told him, were willing to die at his behest. Resuming his address he said, “Allah orders us to sacrifice all that we have in His way. And what is more precious to a man than his life — which is the great gift of Allah. But our life is also a trust from Allah and we are answerable to Him for all our deeds. The best way we can repay that trust is to live and die for Allah — to perpetually wage jihad against infidels. If we die in the course of jihad, we will be called martyrs and the most glorious death is that of the martyr. The reward for martyrdom is an everlasting life in the paradise. The moment you die for Allah, you’ll enter the paradise, where young beautiful women will be waiting for you. In the paradise, all your desires will be fulfilled. Not only that, when you die a martyr’s death, your parents will also be rewarded for that. That is why I call you the most blessed souls on this earth. Promise me that you’ll live and die for Islam and nothing will stop you from fulfilling your mission.”

  “We promise you,” the recruits said with one voice.

  “May Allah keep you steadfast,” Rustam Shah said and then went away.

  While on his way back home, Ali kept thinking about Sara. She really had everything a man would aspire for in his prospective life partner. But Ali was also painfully aware of the disparity in their positions. “Why would Sara consent to marry me?” he asked himself. “She can easily find a far better match. If a girl like Farzana who has the same background as I wants to marry me, it is understandable. But that a girl like Sara, who represents the ideal of a complete woman, can find in me a match for her is hard to comprehend.”

  But something at the back of his mind convinced Ali that Sara was in some way attracted to him. What that was he didn’t know. After all, why she would call him home, sit with him in her study and discuss with him her future plans. “I’m not rich. Nor I’m a very brilliant student. Nor am I a very good-looking person. Nor do I have a very bright future ahead of me. In fact, I’m an average man in every respect — so average that I fall below the expectations of as average a person as Babu Javed. There are then two possible explanations. Either I’m grossly mistaken in what Sara thinks about me or I’m grossly mistaken about myself. Maybe there is something in me which is hidden from myself but clearly visible to Sara,” he explained to himself.

  Ali was so much engrossed in arguing with himself that he didn’t know when he reached home. “Sir we are in street No.4. Where should I go now?” the taxi driver asked him. “Please stop here,” Ali replied and got out of the taxi.

  As Ali entered his apartment, he heard someone talking loudly. As he went in, he saw Babu Javed arguing with his father. Seeing Ali, he said to Mr Naqvi, “He is here, ask him.”

  What’s the matter father?” Ali asked in surprise as he had never seen anyone talk to his father like that. Mrs Naqvi was also present.

  “My son,” said Mr Naqvi, “Farzana has refused to marry Rashid and Javed suspects you of being behind her decision.”

  “I don’t suspect. I’m certain that he has prevailed upon Farzana to have her engagement dissolved,” Babu Javed broke in pointing a finger at Ali.

  “Javed please let him explain,” Mr Naqvi emphatically said.

  “Father I don’t know what’s this all about. I have nothing to do with Farzana or the making or breaking of her engagement,” Ali explained.

  “He is lying,” Babu Javed shouted. “He is very much involved in the affair. Ask him did he not meet Farzana and Rashid?”

  “Ali is it correct?” Mr Naqvi asked.

  “I did meet Farzana only once after her engagement and that was here in mother’s presence. I only congratulated her on her engagement and wished her for her future life.”

  “Yes they met in my presence,” Mrs Naqvi confirmed.

  “And what about Rashid? Did you meet him too?” Mr Naqvi enquired.

  Ali remained silent for few moments and then said, ”I did meet Rashid but only once and that too on his request.”

  “Here you are Hassan Naqvi,” Babu Javed taunted.

  “Please let him complete Javed, “Mr Naqvi implored his guest and then turning to Ali said, “Would you like to tell us what went between you too?”

  “I’m sorry I can’t, because we had promised not to tell a third person about our meeting,” Ali stated.

  “This is a nice pretext. Is it not?” remarked Babu Javed.

  “If he is under an obligation not to speak, then I cannot force him,” Mr Naqvi plainly told Babu Javed.

  “Nor would I.” Mrs Naqvi put her weight behind her husband.

  “Ok, if Ali doesn’t speak then I will because I’m under no such obligation. Even if I were, I would speak to clear the matter up. Your illustrious son, Hassan, told Rashid that Farzana loved her and he loved her and that the engagement was done against Farzana’s will and that Rashid should not stand between them,” Babu Javed alleged.

  “This is grossly incorrect,” Ali protested. “I never said such things to Rashid. Why would I say such things to him?”

  “Because you aren’t reconciled to his engagement with Farzana. And because you want to marry her yourself,” Babu Javed made another allegation.

  “This is sheer nonsense. I never wanted to marry Farzana and would never want to,” Ali cried.

  “It is all right. You can go Ali,” Mrs Naqvi intervened and then addressing Babu Javed said, “I think you have got the answer. My son has nothing to do with your daughter. You marry her wherever and whoever you want to. I have the highest opinion of Farzana. But I feel sorry for her as well as for you that you don’t understand her.”

  “I’ll see you all,” Babu Javed sounded a warning and with heavy steps left.

  “I don’t understand this man. By making such baseless allegations, he’s only insulting his own daughter,” an exasperated Mrs Naqvi remarked. “But please don’t see Rashid again,” she advised Ali.

  “I don’t know what transpired between you and Rashid and I wouldn’t press you to disclose that. I know and your mother knows that you don’t want to marry Farzana so it is inconceivable that you tried to dissuade Rashid from marrying her. This means that probably Rashid has misled Javed,” Mr Naqvi said.

  “But why would Rashid do that? Maybe he is not happy over his e
ngagement with Farzana and is saying such things only to avoid marrying her,” Mrs Naqvi conjectured.

  “Mother if you allow me, I’ll talk to Rashid and ask him why he lied to uncle Javed,” Ali asked.

  “No. If he lied once; he can lie another time. I think you should keep your hands off both Farzana and Rashid,” Mr Naqvi said.

  “Ok,” Ali assented and went to his room.

  Chapter 19

  Ali had hardly believed that Rashid, whom he had reckoned to be quite a reasonable person, would not only break his word about their meeting, which took place on his request, but also lie patently. Ali recalled that he had plainly told him that he wasn’t interested in marrying Farzana and that Rashid could be a good match for her.

  “But why he has told uncle Javed that I want to marry Farzana?” What benefit can he drive from this?” Ali asked himself. “Only Rashid can answer this. But father and mother have forbidden me to meet him and I should abide by their decision. Perhaps Farzana can throw some light on this. It is also possible that she still insists on marrying me and her father suspects she does so at my behest. I think I should try and see Farzana.”

  While Ali was immersed in his thoughts, his cell phone rang up. “Ali it’s me, Farzana. I want to meet you; it’s very urgent.”

  “What’s it Farzana? We already just have had enough of your father,” Ali could not control his anger.

  “I can guess what father said to you. But I want to meet you and explain.”

  This is what Ali also wanted but in spite of that he refused to see Farzana and told her never to call him again. “Please spare us. And in case you really have some explanation or apology to make, do so before my mother,” Having said so, he rang off.

  “Why I did this? I should have agreed to see Farzana. Maybe she had some important thing to share with me. It would have enabled me to know what transpired between Babu Javed and Rashid. But probably I have done the right thing. Why should I get myself entangled into their affairs when I have nothing to do with Farzana? I have far more important things to think about and attend to,” Ali decided.

  “And the most important thing right now is that I should also decide about my research topic. Like Sara, I also need to short list the topics and then choose one of them. Oh Sara what a girl she is — complete in each and every respect! Am I not fortunate that she trusts in and counts on me? But is it mere trust or something else? The only person who can answer this question is Sara herself. And she’ll answer this question only when someone asks it. But God knows how she’ll react when I put this question to her. She may get annoyed and refuse to see me again. I guess I shouldn’t get impatient and wait to let her speak about that herself. Yes wait and see will be the right strategy for me,” Ali made another decision.

  Ali turned on his laptop and began exploring possible research topics. After pondering for half an hour, he came up with four topics. I guess I’ll share these topics with Sara when we meet on coming Thursday. What day is today? It’s Monday. It means another three days are left when I’ll get a chance to see her. Until then I can only think about her. Should I give her a call? I had better not. She may suspect I’m trying to intrude upon her privacy and may think low of me. So far she has a very good impression of me and I should avoid doing anything which may erase this impression.”

  While Ali was trying to figure out his relations with Sara, his parents were discussing Farzana in another room. “What do you think has gone wrong?” Mr Naqvi solicited his wife’s opinion.

  “I think the fault lies with Javed Bhai. He has always been callous to Farzana’s feelings and tried to impose his will on her. You know and I know and he also knows that Farzana loves Ali but he forced her engagement with Rashid, whom she didn’t know at all. But you know love never dies and of late Farzana may have again insisted on marrying Ali,” Mrs Naqvi expressed her opinion.

  “You are right dear,” agreed Mr Naqvi. “But what I don’t understand is why did Ali meet Rashid? You know he didn’t deny that he met Rashid. What he denies is that he told Rashid that he and Farzana love each other and therefore he shouldn’t stand between them.”

  “And we know that he’s speaking the truth, because he doesn’t want to marry Farzana,” Mrs Naqvi observed prompting a nod from her husband.

  “We can ask Ali. But I think we had better not quiz, him at least not for the time being. I may ask him tomorrow,” Mrs Naqvi said. “But please tell Javed Bhai not to barge into our house again. If he cannot set his house in order, it doesn’t mean he should pollute the atmosphere of ours.”

  “I’ll do so dear,” Mr Naqvi nodded.

  Maulvi Zia had decided to go all out against the Malik Naseem govt. “The bastard needs to be taught a befitting lesson,” he told Dr Junaid. Accordingly, he directed his White Mosque brigand to get music and video shops closed in their locality as well as attack the beauty-cum-fitness centre run by Mrs Khan. The brigand was already desperate to parade their love for religion and virtue and hatred for evil and obscenity.

  Therefore as soon as they received the directive, the students including both boys and girls and carrying clubs went to the market, smashed the glass doors and shelves of video and music shops and set posters, CDs and DVDs on fire. They warned the protesting shopkeepers that if they tried to resume their evil businesses, they would be assaulted. “If you want to lodge a complaint with the police and report the matter to the local parliamentarian, go ahead. But these corrupt and debauch people will not be able to rescue you,” their message was loud and clear.

  The matter was instantly reported to the police, who arrived at the scene. “We had told you earlier about the threats we received from White Mosque students and you promised to help us. But where’s your help?” one of the shopkeepers angrily said to a police official.

  “We did receive your complaints but we didn’t know that they mean it. But are you sure the rioters were from the White Mosque?” the head of the police party inspector Mujahid asked.

  “Sir we are as sure as that they you are before us,” another shopkeeper replied. “We recognize them except the women who were clad in burqa so we could not see their faces. But we are certain that they too were from the White Mosque.”

  “If that’s the case, then I assure you that the culprits will be apprehended and taught a lesson. But would you be appearing in the court against them?” inspector Mujahid put another question.

  “Why not sir. These people have destroyed our livelihood,” the shopkeepers spoke with one voice.

  Inspector Mujahid along with his police contingent went to the White Mosque. Since the police couldn’t enter the mosque, they went to the office-cum-residence of Maulana Majeed, which was adjacent to the mosque. The maulana was present there and consented to meet the police.

  Maulana Majeed knew well why the police had come to see him but feigned ignorance. “Why brings you here?” the maulana asked inspector Mujahid.

  “Maulana sahib you must be aware that some of your students have attacked video and music shops in the locality, beaten up shopkeepers, burnt CDs and DVDs and got the shops forcibly closed. We request you to please hand them over to the police,” inspector Mujahid politely narrated the purpose of his visit.

  “I believe our students have done a commendable job. These shops were a den of obscenity and vulgarity and some time back we had requested the shopkeepers to wind up their businesses but they ignored our request. Obviously, we could not have allowed that obscenity and vulgarity to go on forever, as it was exercising a baneful effect on the residents, particularly the young generation. In fact, we had received several complaints from the residents about these shops,” Maulana Majeed explained.

  “Maulana I do share your concern. But if someone had any complaint against these shops, the same should have been lodged with the police and we definitely had acted to redress the grievance,” inspector Mujahid said.