“This is because he loved you.”
“If he loved me, it’s none of my faults. I never asked him to love me. At any rate, one’s emotions shouldn’t cloud one’s judgment. But I don’t think Ali has been only a loser in this game. I think he has got quite a few things to boast of for the rest of his life. First of all, he married an upper class girl, which is a cherished dream of all middle class boys. He got the opportunity to enjoy my company and have sex with me, while I know hundreds of men who would give their life just to spend a few minutes with me. Though only for few months, I gave him the pleasure of believing that I loved him and that I would die without him. I doubt he would ever have that privilege again. If anything, you should be thankful to me for all that instead of upbraiding me. And dear ex-mother-in-law, you also have played an important role in the whole drama. You’re older, more educated and more experienced than I am. But strangely enough, even you or your husband didn’t have the slightest of suspicions that ours was only a marriage of convenience. Or probably you had your eyes on my wealth. If your son was deceived by love, you were duped by avarice. Poor family!” Sara finished.
“Sara, you’re a winner and we’re losers. And being a winner, you can say whatever you want. I had thought you had some remorse at your behavior but I was grossly mistaken. You have no guilt but pride at having, should I say in your language, outclassed and outsmarted us? But remember one day you would regret what you did to Ali. In the entire world none loved you more than he. You were fortunate to have him but you’re unfortunate to have lost him. Good evening and enjoy your success,” Mrs Naqvi said and left with heavy steps without waiting for Sara’s answer.
Chapter 30
Ali’s abortive relationship with Sara had shattered him. His parents had advised him to try and forget that experience, concentrate on his studies, avoid excessive thinking and take things as they came. Though difficult, it wasn’t an impossible task but it required a man of strong nerves and will or strong faith. And Ali had neither.
Instead, he was a man of feeble will and weak nerves. Though he tried to be strong, at heart he remained a coward. By nature, he was withdrawn, shy, prone to anxiety and afraid of facing people. A man needs to have strong faith either in himself or in God to face the world bravely; but to his grave misfortune, Ali had neither.
He had always been devoid of self-confidence. Faith in God might have made amends for lack of self confidence. But the study of philosophy had deprived him of that faith and turned him into a skeptic, not of a robust variety but of a pessimistic type. Whether thought or matter was real, whether reason or intuition was the reliable guide to action, whether truth consisted in being useful or being consistent with the facts, whether man was free or subject to the inexorable law of causation. He wasn’t sure.
Ali oscillated between conflicting philosophies and views: idealism and materialism, rationalism and intuitionism, pragmatism and existentialism, determinism and indeterminism. When he read one system of philosophy, he found it to be the correct and convincing worldview. But when he passed on to another, he found it to be equally correct and convincing — and so on. The result was that he always found himself caught between opposing worldviews. In the morning, he was an idealist but in the afternoon he would become a materialist. At one moment, he had indubitable belief in God; at another he was doubtful whether God existed.
After Sara had ditched him, his intellectual skepticism was reinforced by emotional skepticism. If previously he wasn’t sure which philosopher to believe, now he was uncertain which person to trust. Every notion and every idea, every gesture and every word seemed to him to be hollow — no more than an appearance concealing the reality, which he didn’t know what it was. For him therefore only appearance existed and all appearance he believed was dubious. Intellectually and emotionally, he was living in a highly uncertain and incredible world without having the nerves to cope with such a world. He would distrust everyone including his parents. At times, he would even suspect that the tea that his mother made for him was poisonous.
Ali had no control over his thoughts, which were as disorderly as a river in high flood. He virtually lost the ability of premeditated action and would most of the time act and speak on the spur of the moment. He would open his books but couldn’t concentrate just turning page after page without comprehending a word. For hours, he would sit alone thinking nothing and everything. He would go to the university and attend classes but absent-mindedly. He would face Sara but the two never talked. Some of his classmates would even jest at him but Ali would hardly notice that. Among them, only Javed was sympathetic to him. He would try to comfort and console him and advise him to forget the past. Javed had even complained to Sara about what he had done to Ali only to be rebuked by her.
Sara had noticed Ali’s condition and she felt some remorse. It was the last week of their final semester. The course work was nearly complete after which the students would have three months to complete and submit their thesis. On that afternoon, Ali returned to class from the library to collect his folder. The room was empty except for one student, who happened to be Sara. Their eyes met and Ali just tried to slip. But she asked him to stop.
“This is my last day in the university and we mayn’t meet again. So before we part, I want to say something to you,” Sara said in a low tone looking deeply into Ali.
Ali didn’t reply.
“I know,” Sara began, “that I’m the most hated person for you and also the last that you would ever trust. So whatever I say will be the least important and credible for you. But still I request your patience. I was born with the proverbial silver spoon in my mouth. Being the only child of my parents, I remained the centre of their love and attention. From the beginning I was told that I was out of the ordinary, that I was the heir to a business empire and that I was born to command and exact obedience from others. As I grew up, papa told me that good is that benefits you and evil is that harms you, that intelligent action is always the right action and that ends justify means. Mama’s untimely death was a great shock to me but papa told me that I had to be strong enough to bear such a loss.
“In the language of philosophy, I grew up a person who regards rational self-interest as the only legitimate motive for action. My papa says that if you’re intelligent and have forbearance, you can grapple with any situation however intricate. To date I have acted on his advice. So what I did to you was the only intelligent response to a tricky situation. And I’m the least ashamed of it. But believe me, I never meant any harm to you and it’s a pity that you have reached such a condition. It’s the unintended consequence of my action, or collateral damage as Americans would call it. And you would appreciate that one can’t be held responsible for any collateral damage. But still I can understand how you feel for me.”
Sara was on the point of saying ‘sorry’ to Ali but her arrogance prevented her from uttering that word.
“Are you finished?” Ali asked warily.
“Yes,” Sara replied
And Ali went out without registering any complaint or protest, much to the surprise of his ex-spouse, who thought he would enter into some sort of argument with her. But the way he had ignored her made her feel that he cared little about what she had to say. However, that wasn’t the case. It wasn’t a conscious decision on the part of Ali. In fact, he hadn’t listened to most of her monologue.
“What was Sara telling you?” Javed, who had overheard some of Sara’s monologue, queried.
“I really don’t remember,” Ali replied in an abstract fashion.
“I guess she’s having some pangs of conscience, otherwise why would she try to defend herself?” Javed observed.
“I really don’t know. But even if she has pangs of conscience, does it really matter? She did what she thought was the best thing for her to do. But her words can’t restore my trust in the world; it’s shaken once and for all. Anyway, it’s not a very pleasant subject for me so my I request you not to broach it again?”
> “I’m sorry if I have hurt you but I didn’t mean it. However, let’s change the subject. We have another two days before we break. What are your plans? Javed asked.”
I don’t have any plans. To make plans, one needs to have confidence in oneself that one can achieve one’s goals. I don’t have any confidence in myself,” Ali replied.
“Ok I can understand. But I have my plans. First of all I’ll finish my thesis. In fact, I have already completed the first draft. Thereafter, I’ll prepare for the civil service examination and if I qualify, I’ll marry a beautiful, rich damsel, make a lot of money and have three or four children,” Javed sketched his future roadmap. “But as they say, man proposes and God disposes.”
“I don’t know. But in my case, a man proposed and a woman disposed,” Ali observed painfully. “But why I’m into that? What’s your research topic?
“Didn’t I share it with you before? I’m writing on the social disorder in our society. My thesis is simple: Social order, as you know my friend, is based on shared expectations among members of society. These expectations themselves are based on roles and status, rights and obligations that people have. In order to preserve the social order, it’s essential to fulfill these expectations. Of course, as no society is perfect, in no society are these expectations fully fulfilled. However, in most societies most of the times, these expectations are fulfilled, which means people do what’s expected of them. The result is social harmony and predictability.
“I give you an example. In our society, people drive on the left. Now imagine one fine morning when you are on your way to the university, you find some of the people driving to the right and some in the middle. What will happen? Collisions, accidents leading to loss of lives and disruption of traffic. The reason is that shared expectations weren’t fulfilled. Our society is facing a similar problem, of course, on a much larger scale and on a much more serious level, so much so that the entire social order is breaking. People by and large are not doing what they are supposed to do; or they do what they are not supposed to do.
“Military is supposed to defend the country against external aggression, not to take part in politics. But not only is it heavily politicized but has actually ruled the country for the better part of its history. Politicians aren’t supposed to indulge in loot and plunder but they actually do so and have brought the country on the brink of collapse. Judges are supposed to administer justice but instead of doing that they address public rallies and issue political statements like politicians. Sportsmen aren’t supposed to preach religion; this is the job of the clergy. But several of our cricketers have turned evangelist. Banks issue credit worth billions of rupees and then waive it off for political reasons. There are scores of such examples but the underlying point is that social order is on the verge of collapse,” Javed concluded.
“Interesting!” Ali acknowledged. “But what’s your conclusion? I mean do you think this trend can be arrested?”
“I’m yet to conclude, but I assume things have deteriorated so much that the social order is condemned to fall apart. However, in my thesis, I may come up with a different conclusion — slightly optimistic. You know the reason. Nobody likes pessimistic conclusions.”
“If you think the social order is bound to collapse, what would happen next? Would we be thrown into the proverbial state of nature?” Ali, who found himself interested in the topic, asked?
“Yes there will be chaos and disorder and even the society may disintegrate. But don’t ask me what will happen thereafter, simply because I’ve no idea,” Javed admitted.
“Tell we if we are on the verge of an inescapable disaster, why should we work so hard, especially why would you be part of a system, I mean the civil service, which is bound to collapse?”
“Here you get me. But still I think I can answer you. First, I may simply be wrong. The social order may survive. Secondly, even if it breaks down, it mayn’t happen immediately instead it may take years; so my hard work will not go waste. Thirdly, the breakdown of our social order doesn’t mean breakdown of the global order. Before the doomsday comes, we can fly to a safer place. Remember my friend in our society the people in privileged positions are always the last to be hit by a calamity and generally they find a safe exit. Take the war on terror. Who are the victims of bomb blasts and suicide attacks? By and large it’s the poor people. Tell me how many VVIPs and VIPs have perished? You can count them on your fingertips. Even those who kill themselves in these attacks come of poor families, while their mentors and masterminds are alive and kicking. So the moral of the story is that in our society the wealthier or more powerful you are, no matter on which side of the equation you happen to be, the longer is your life span and the safer you are,” Javed observed. “So that’s why I want to be rich and powerful. But if you have any other question, first buy me a drink.”
“I have no more questions but I’ll buy you a drink,” Ali replied.
Chapter 31
“I’m very sorry to hear that your son’s marriage has broken down,” Babu Javed remarked. He had met the Naqvis after a fairly long time. He even didn’t attend Ali’s marriage as he was away on an assignment at that time.
“I was surprised when you told me that Ali had married Seth Nisar’s daughter. I’m very much familiar with the seth. For him what matters is only money and power and you have neither,” he mentioned bluntly.
“Yes it was also surprising for us, especially they way they insisted that the wedding should take place immediately and without much ado,” Mr Naqvi acknowledged looking at his wife.
“But did you not suspect something was wrong at the bottom?” Babu Javed asked.
“Yes I did. But then Ali told me Seth Nisar was doing that on the advice of his astrologer. I know several other people in high places, who are too superstitious to disregard the advice of their soothsayers. So we thought the same was the case with Nisar,” Mr Naqvi explained.
“But to be sure, that was hardly the reason. As I have just said, I know Seth Nisar too well. He doesn’t have any soothsayer.”
“But then what can possibly be the reason?”
“Of late, Sara has told me that she married Ali because she had been placed in an awkward situation. We still wonder what that situation was.” Mrs Naqvi interposed.
“I guess I can answer your question,” Babu Javed said with a meaningful smile. “Seth Nisar,” he continued, “worked for Maulvi Ziaur Rehman, the well-known religious figure and a mentor of the militants. My links told me that he wanted to marry Sara and had threatened Seth Nisar of dire consequences if he didn’t accept his proposal,” Babu Javed disclosed.
“Are you sure?” Mrs Naqvi interrupted him.
“Sister Fatima, I have long spied on Maulvi Zia. I also know why and how Seth Nisar was trapped by the maulvi, but that obviously will be of little interest to you.”
“I confirm what Javed has said about the connection between Zia and Nisar,” Mr Naqvi endorsed.
“Hassan you knew that?” But you never shared the same with me,” Mrs Naqvi protested.
“I was under an obligation not to do so.” And then Mr Naqvi narrated how Sara had asked his help and that she had also met Maulvi Zia. “But I had never for a moment suspected what had driven Sara to marry Ali.”
“This is because you weren’t aware of Zia’s marriage proposal,” Babu Javed observed. “You journalists never have complete information and know only half truths.”
“This evening is full of surprises for me,” Mrs Naqvi remarked.
“Do you think Ali knew this?” Babu Javed queried.
“No we don’t think so. He’s still in the dark about the marriage motive and I think we shouldn’t share this information with him — at least not for now. He’s trying to recover and get over all this. But if Sara had married Ali just to avoid having to marry Zia, why did she get the marriage terminated? I mean Maulvi Zia can again come up with the marriage proposal?” Mrs Naqvi put a logical question.
“Maulvi
Zia was killed in a drone attack in South Waziristan some time back. However, his body hasn’t been recovered.” Babu Javed made another revelation.
What? Maulvi Zia has been killed!” Mr Naqvi reacted. But the media are ignorant of his death.”
“It’s very confidential and I trust you will not leak it to the press. Actually, the government doesn’t want to make his death public unless it is confirmed.”
The Black Rainbow Page 28
