The Black Rainbow

by Hussain Zaidi

  “Now if God exists, then His will must be the dominant power in the world. Every event and every incident must be an expression of the divine will. If God is with me, nothing can harm me. Honors and disgrace, success and failure, elevation and humiliation, life and death are in the hands of God only. Everything that happens is part of the divine scheme. Therefore, I must submit myself to the divine will and accept whatever destiny has in store for me.”

  The medicine started working for Ali. He grew in confidence and became more relaxed and composed in temperament. At times, his skepticism would raise his head but he successfully curbed it. He felt tremendously indebted to his mother, who had shown him the right path.

  Having gained in confidence and composure, Ali decided he should plan his future. “Success and failure being in the hands of God, all one should do was to make the right effort leaving the consequences to God,” Ali inferred.

  The faith in God also solved for him the problem of freedom and determinism. Freedom, he thought, consisted in striving and not achieving, acting and not attaining. Achievement and attainment were beyond human power and belonged to the sphere of the divine will. One should do one’s best without trying to be perfect as perfection was an attribute of God only.

  With a new-found faith in himself and God, Ali’s view of social relationships also started changing. His doomed marriage with Sara had turned him into a cynic suspecting that social intercourse was merely a device to seek one’s benefits without regard to those of others. But as his outlook on life became broader, he realized that it wasn’t appropriate to tar all relationships and all people with the same brush. People were actuated by a complex set of motives — love and fear, good-will and malice, altruism and egoism. One should try to understand people and their motives without trying to change them. Even the most heartless person had a soft corner for someone. Even the most selfish person cared for some.

  Farzana frequently visited Ali’s home and his attitude towards her also underwent a change. Contrary to the past, Farzana’s arrival didn’t unnerve Ali. He knew she had not lost interest in him and he accepted that. “We may become one if God has ordained so. I needn’t worry about that.” He disposed of the matter in that fashion.

  Ali, however, still didn’t find himself attracted to Farzana. He had still a lot of place for Sara in his heart and he had no hesitation about admitting that to himself. “What Sara did to me was God’s will and she must have some good reasons for that.”

  Both Mrs Naqvi and Farzana noted with satisfaction the change wrought in Ali. The former in particular knew that his son had suffered a lot and deserved a better and happier life.

  Ali had been offered a place in his father’s newspaper but both mother and son decided he should pursue a career in the civil service, which was a very promising option. Ali thus started preparing for the civil service examination in all earnestness. But little did he know that his serenity was doomed to be short-lived.

  Chapter 38

  One morning, Ali was looking for his domicile as he had to file an application for the civil service exam. He searched for the same in his room but couldn’t find it.

  “Maybe mother knows where the domicile is.”

  As his mother had gone to work, he thought he should look for the piece of paper in her room. So he went to her room. He knew his mother had placed all the important documents in a cabinet. The cabinet was locked but Ali knew where his mother kept the key. He had never opened his mother’s cabinet before. So he hesitated for a moment but then realized that he had to find the domicile, because that was the last day for the submission of the application. He unlocked the cabinet and sifted the papers but couldn’t find the domicile. “Where the hell can it be?” he wondered.

  There was another cabinet in the room and Ali ransacked that as well. But the domicile wasn’t there either. As he was about to slam the cabinet shut, he saw a descript folder lying in a corner. He opened the folder and started scanning the papers therein. The folder belonged to his late father and contained his academic testimonials. Then there was a copy of his parent’s marriage certificate. At the end of the folder was a folded piece of paper. Out of curiosity, Ali opened it and what he saw there struck him the heaviest blow of his life. It was a one page medical report of Mr Naqvi stating that he was incapable of fathering a child.

  “What’s this! My father was incapable of fathering a child? Then who I’m? Am I not his son? Is my mother not my mother? Or am I a bastard? No, neither can be true. Maybe the report is not correct. Maybe father had some problem but later he got himself cured. I know medical reports are not invariably correct. After all they are made by men and human judgment is not infallible,” Ali tried to reassure himself against the authenticity of the shocking disclosure.

  Ali completely forgot that he was looking for his domicile and that he had to submit the application that very day. For next three hours, he thought only about the medical report trying hopelessly to reassure himself that the document was erroneous. And then his mother came back.

  Mrs Naqvi saw Ali in a hysteric condition. “What’s it my son? You seem to be extremely upset.”

  Ali kept silent and handed her over the medical certificate.

  “Where did you find it,” a crestfallen Mrs Naqvi asked?

  “This is all nonsense. Isn’t it?” Ali gasped ignoring her question. ‘I’m your son.”

  “Of course you are my son and your late father’s. But I’m afraid this report is correct?” Mrs Naqvi dropped the bombshell.

  “What! The person I called my father wasn’t mine. Then who I’m?”

  “My son what I’m going to disclose,” Mrs Naqvi began, “you have to bear with utmost fortitude. We brought you up but we aren’t your biological parents. After two years of our marriage, there wasn’t any sign of me bearing a child. We both had ourselves examined and it transpired that your father, the nicest person I have ever seen, had that one deficiency — that he was incapable of fathering a child. So we decided to adopt a child and adopted you and brought you up with all the love and attention that we were capable of. Hassan always wanted that we should tell you the truth. But events took such a shape that the opportune moment that we were waiting for never came.”

  “Who are my real parents?”

  “We are your real parents. I’m your mother and Hassan was your father. Yes, we aren’t your biological parents but does it matter? No it doesn’t.”

  “This is no answer to my question.”

  “Ok if you want to know, we took you from an orphanage. But my son there’s no use making such queries. Don’t think about the distant past. Think about the present and the bright future that lies ahead of you.”

  “Future! One who doesn’t have a past doesn’t have a future. Who I’m? A rootless person, who has no idea where he has come from, what is his religion or ethnic identity, who and where are his parents, who and where is his family?”

  “For God’s sake I’m your family. My identity is your identity. After your father, you are everything to me and I don’t need anyone else. I know you are shocked. Anyone would be. May God help you overcome this!” said a dejected Mrs Naqvi.

  For Ali the revelation that he was rootless proved the proverbial final straw that broke the camel’s back. The whole edifice of his new-found faith in God and the world fell apart.

  “Is there anyone in the world who I can trust? Even the people whom I loved and trusted beyond doubt lied to me all their life. They didn’t and couldn’t have a child and therefore used me to satisfy their parent instinct and to avoid the ignominy that they couldn’t bear a child. Why? They had all the time to tell me the truth but they preferred to keep silent. I thought whatever God does has some meaning and purpose. But what’s meaning and purpose in my being rootless and without identity?”

  Ali thought himself to be in a hopeless situation. “What’s the point in planning and striving to achieve my goal when I am doomed to failure, disappointment and humiliation?”


  He completely lost heart, said good-bye to his plans to make a career for himself and left himself completely to circumstances. He painfully felt he had no family, no friend, no religion, no identity, no past, no future; his life had no meaning, no purpose. He was completely alone. His mother tried to help him but in vain. He took to drugs and most of the time he was in a state of slumber. When awake, he was incessantly tormented by the thoughts of being completely alone in the world. He became careless about his appearance. Farzana noted his state with pain and wondered what had gone wrong with him — Mrs Naqvi hadn’t shared that secret with anyone else. The young woman spoke to Ali but felt she was talking to a dead man.

  In the meantime, Ali’s final result was announced and he completed his masters. But that news made no effect on him. When his mother congratulated him, his reply was that for a dead man success or failure didn’t matter.

  One evening while he was just wandering, Ali came across Dr Junaid. The professor was much surprised to see him like that and drove him to his house. On Dr Junaid’s insistence, Ali gave him a complete account of his predicament.

  The professor listened to him sympathetically and then began: “Throughout your life you have been taken for a ride by others, who exploited your credulity and simplicity. But this isn’t surprising, because that’s how the world goes. So if you don’t trust anyone anymore, you’re absolutely justified in doing this. But what I don’t understand is why you are punishing yourself for the wrong that others have done you.”

  “But then what should I do?”

  “Revenge upon the people who have wronged you. Revenge upon this cruel, insensitive, unjust society,” Dr Junaid exhorted Ali.

  “I and revenge! No sir I’m not capable of doing anything.”

  “This is where you are mistaken,” observed the professor. “You are young, intelligent, energetic and above all have anger and hatred for the world. You know anger and hatred are among the greatest assets of a person that can pull down empires and ravage societies. The only problem is how to use them intelligently. In your case, your anger and hatred are directed towards yourself, which is ruining you rather than your enemies. Just think about that and then get back to me.”

  Dr Junaid talked to Ali for another two hours. He gave him several examples of how heroic individuals beaten and battered by their own people had brought the entire society to its knees. As Ali was about to leave, Dr Junaid gave him a book.

  “What is this?” Ali asked.

  “This is one of my favorite books. It is also the holy book of the followers of a great religion and conveys one of the profoundest moral lessons of all times,” Dr Junaid explained. “Read it carefully and tell me what you make of it independent of its narrow religious significance.”

  “Ok. These days I’m not inclined to read anything. I just sleep or chew the cud but I’ll try to go through this.”

  Ali came back home and started considering Dr Junaid’s advice. The more he pondered, the more he realized the wisdom in the professors’ words. He also recalled Sara’s words in their last encounter in the philosophy department when she had told him that there were two kinds of people: those who won and those who lost.

  “Why am I always the loser?” Is it the will of God? No. The reason is that I’m weak, naïve and credulous enough to always end up on the losing side. I don’t fight for my rights. But now I will,” Ali resolved.

  Having made up his mind Ali went back to Dr Junaid.

  “So you’re back.” The professor gazed at his student. “I guess my advice has made some impression on you.”

  Ali replied in the affirmative.

  “By the way, do you know why Sara married you and then ditched you?”

  “No sir, I’m don’t.”

  “I tell you why.” And then much to Ali’s amazement, Dr Junaid told him that a big gun wanted to marry Sara against her will and to avoid that she married him. The professor however concealed that the big gun was Maulvi Zia.

  “Oh! Here we are! She never loved me; she only made a pretension of that. But how do you know this?”

  “That I’ll tell you some other time. But if you insist, I can share that with you right now.”

  “It’s all right sir. This is not much important for me. What’s more important for me is why she did that to me and even more how I can settle my score with her.”

  “That’s splendid! You’ll get the opportunity to settle your score with everyone who has wronged you. But you must feel the right amount of anger and hatred for these people and also learn to use these emotions intelligently. Remember, acting rashly is as bad as failing to act,” Dr Junaid advised his student.

  Ali responded with a nod.

  “Did you read the book I gave you?”

  Ali replied in the negative.

  “It’s all right. Read it at leisure but do read it. It will be of tremendous help to you. Have you told anyone about our meetings?” Dr Junaid asked.

  “I hardly speak to anyone else these days.”

  “Ok. That’s very important. I don’t want others to know that I’m coaching you. You know people just…”

  “Sir don’t worry. I’m not going to talk about this to anyone,” Ali assured the professor.

  “You must be wondering why I want to help you — and rightly so,” Dr Junaid noted. “You were never among my favorite students. But my dear, there’s something common between us two. In my younger days I was much like you — nervous, shaky and uncertain — and incidentally I was also ditched by a girl. I never married, because having once been beaten by a woman, I was forever shy. I mean I lost all trust in the species called woman. I was even on the point of committing suicide. But then one person rescued me from the abyss in which I had fallen. And when I asked him how I could repay him my debt, you know what his reply was. He told me just help someone else in your predicament.

  “Dear the point,” the professor continued, “that I wish to make is that there are good people as well as bad people, though the former category is easily outnumbered by the latter. Our mission in life should be to fight for the good people and fight against the bad people. I trust you agree with me.”

  “Yes sir I’m in all agreement with you and I feel sorry that you also suffered in your life.”

  “Suffering is part of life my dear student,” Dr Junaid said. “Suffering is even good, provided it makes you strong and goads you into fighting for a noble cause. However, God hasn’t condemned people to suffer. Much of the suffering that you see in the world is man-made created by the lust for wealth and power. It’s this lust that’s the real devil inside us and also finds its outward expression in the oppressive and unjust socio-economic systems. One such system also exists in our society.

  “You know there’s so much injustice in our society. Our democracy has actually degenerated into a tyranny. The more wealth you have, the more votes you bag in elections. The more votes you bag, the more powerful you become. The more powerful you are, the wealthier you get and so on. That’s why you see in our society the rich are getting richer and the poor poorer. It’s one class that has ruled the roost during last sixty years. Members of this class occupy all the important places everywhere: in politics and business, industry and agriculture, civil and military bureaucracy, media and civil society. Even the so-called intellectuals that we boast of are predominantly drawn from this ruling class.

  “Just tell me does anyone who matters in our society call for a real change? No, they all seek to preserve the status quo. ‘Save the system,’ they all insist. But which system should we save? This system, that has lost all its credibility and effectiveness? This system, which takes away from those who have little and gives it to those who already have a plenty? No. This system has to go and young people like you who have so much against it must be the agent of change.”