Chapter 6: From Heaven

We get home in the night. Sadiq opens the gate. Abdur is standing in the veranda holding a radio; he listens to the news. As Sadiq closes the gate after we enter, he runs back and turns on a light. I understand this cannot be just a light. He must have turned on all the cameras. When I look at my brother, he also looks tired. I get the whole idea why Hafiz took so long to come to Islamabad: a technical team was installing cameras everywhere in our house. A huge press conference must have also been held at our place. The media wants to know about my life. I’m on all TV channels.

I say salam to Abdur and then go straight home. In the house, the lights are on, but I don’t see anyone. Hmm, it’s not that late in the night if everyone is sleeping. I was expecting they would proudly greet me. Anyway, I go to my room and then to the bathroom in the room. The floor is half-wet. I lie down on the floor, extend my arms and legs, and become motionless. I feel like I’m dying. Meanwhile, someone calls my name, but I do not respond. Finally, they – my sister-in-law and my niece – find me in the bathroom. I didn’t lock the bathroom door. I cooperate with them and get up by myself. My sister-in-law asks me for dinner; however, I demand for a cup of coffee. I’m the only one in our family who drinks coffee regularly. The rest are tea drinkers.

All night, I go in and out to hujra for smoking. There is no problem, I can smoke anywhere, but I’m very happy and cannot remain in one place. I might have slept a little in the night. When I get up in the morning, I notice the bolts in my room and the bathroom are removed.

In the mid-morning, I’m alone in the room in the hujra. The factory noise can be heard. This aluminum factory, which Abur started in 1997, is inside the hujra. There are several machines. The noisiest and heaviest machine is the presser which converts an aluminum block into a thin sheet. Two workers work on this machine. One person inserts the block, and the other remove the sheet from the other side. When the block passes through the machine, it creates huge noise. The sheets are then taken to a cutter, where they are cut in circular plates. After that, the plates are transferred to other rotating machines which transform them into pots. The last machines amuse me. It reminds me topology: how a single circular plate is deformed into a pot without breaking. Topology is an amazing subject. The topology of a shape does not change by deforming it unless it is torn or punctured.

I’m sitting on the mat and thinking about Mr. Monologue. If he is super-genius, how would people communicate with him? For him, even Albert Einstein is a common man. He makes everybody head down. No one can look into his eyes. This is something he doesn’t like. While I’m thinking, Hafiz walks in.

“You are here. I was looking for you.” He says.

“Hafiz, come over here. Let me tell you something.”

He sits on the carpet in front of me and puts naswar in his mouth, while I light a cigarette. Just like my former friend, Awais, who changed my mind, I changed Hafiz and Aziz. Hafiz and Aziz are cousins. Both are married, though younger than me. More than nephews, they are my best friends.

“If one person is let alone, he can do whatever he wants to do. He can do good and bad things.” I say. “You know why is he doing this? Because he has more freedom. Interfere him. Reduce his freedom. He may be nice; he’ll listen to you.” When I’m telling him this, I have Mr. Monologue in mind. He is given the name Monologue for a reason because he enjoys more free will. This is something he doesn’t like. He wants to involve his nation in his decisions, to turn a monologue in to a dialogue. Though this limits his free will, he makes friends instead of blind believers. “Hafiz, Listen.” I bend forward putting my elbow on my thigh.

“Yes.” He drifts closer to me.

“I may do weird things. I may break things, beat someone or jump from the roof.” When I say thing, I cannot distinguish between Mr. Monologue and myself. “What was I saying? Sorry, I forgot.”

“You were saying you may do bad things.” He reminds me.

“Yes, thank you. So…” I’m again lost. “Excuse me, I need to go to the bathroom.” I stand up and utter. “Yes, if I do that then stop me. I’ll listen to you.”

I motion to the bathroom, which is not attached to the room but behind it. I squat on toilet.  Again, like the last night in the bathroom in my room, I become motionless. I feel like my body is squeezing until I would become a particle and fall in the toilet hole. I have already urinated but cannot stand up. When I take too long, I hear Abdur, who is sitting in the veranda, asking Hafiz to check on me. Hafiz shouts calling my name and rapidly knocks on the door.

“Don’t break the door. I’m coming.” I respond quickly putting on shalwar.

Hafiz accompanies me to home and take me to his room instead of mine. His room is bigger. Initially, this room was the only room when this house was constructed in mid 1980’s. The whole property is about two acres, which is surrounded by a thick, tall mud wall. It is believed that a mud wall can stop a canon projectile. Even rich people in the area have mud boundary walls. The construction inside may be concrete and well furnished. Hafiz’s room is like a castle having holes for rifles on the top. Initially, Abdur Rahim and Gul Rahim moved here, and then Hafiz. Since I’m unmarried, I live with Abdur.

Hafiz leaves me in his room. He turns on the air-condition and turns off the light. I lie in his bed. Due to fluctuation in the voltage, the air-condition changes sounds. I breathe in and out as the air-condition changes sound from low to high. In the same way, I expand and crouch my legs. I think like it is pre-planned to help me to do exercise. Not only do I expand and crouch my legs, but also I curl up and fold the blanket on me. Sometimes I roll and go under the bed. I observe every place in the room. Under the bed, I see the bed frame covered by spider’s web. As the air-condition changes sound again, I roll up and go to the original position on the bed. I also fell a stabbing pain in my legs. When I feel it, I sit up and connect the pain spot and my brain by a straight line, and I claim that the pain radiates to the brain through a shortest path, not necessarily through the nerves. While in this process of sitting, lying and rolling in the bed, once I shout: GET OUT OF MY LAND. I’m referring to Osama bin Laden who is thought to be hiding in the tribal areas.

While resting in Hafiz’s room, I constantly think on Mr. Monologue. Now I’m learning more about him. One of his problems is how to communicate with people. He wants to bring a revolution that would change the world, but he does not want to do it alone. If he wished, he could turn the world into a paradise using his own supernatural power. He believes on teamwork. Fortunately, his nation also turns out to be smart. It is not wise to communicate with him directly. He may go irrelevant and stay off the topic because he has many things to say. One way to communicate with him is to isolate him and puzzle him.

I know Hafiz brought me to his room so is to isolate me. Every time I sit up in bed, my gaze falls on a keyhole in the TV entertainment center in the room. I know a camera is installed in the keyhole. Between the entertainment center and the bed is a carpet for sitting. The television is along the bed. Behind the TV in the window is the air-condition. At the time, the TV is on. The Bollywood actor Shah Rukh Khan is dancing in a song. I know he sees me and wants to learn dance moves from me. I get up and start dancing. Then suddenly break the glass door of the entertainment center in anger. I shout addressing Shah Rukh Khan: What you think you can dance better than me. I need a break.

Meanwhile, Hafiz’s wife, Aneela,who is my niece, rushes in and give me a fabric to weave on my hand which is in blood. My sister-in-law, Sajida, also comes in. I sit in the bed, cover my face with my hands and start weeping. When I’m crying, I see the baby Mr. Monologue in mother’s arms. He needs to be loved. He does not want to be isolated.

Sajida brings her baby son, Gaheez. I love babies. I take Gaheez from her. When I look into Gaheez’s eyes, I notice like he’s saying something to me. Sometimes he looks at me and sometimes at the ceiling. When I look up at the ceiling, I start imagining lines. These lines are very fast moving and nonintersecting. Although they come very close but never touch each other. In the center of these appear a light. The light speaks to me. It says, “Do you see these fast-moving lines? These are the lines of realities. There are as many realities as people. No two people have the same realities. You wanted to know the reality. See, one of the lines is yours. Here you are. You see what your reality is. You must be very proud, but you are not special. Before death, I inform every individual about their fate. Get ready; your time is up. If you still want to live, I can grant you more life. The choice is yours. See, if you can enjoy it”

The image disappears.

Meanwhile, someone comes and tell me that my friend, Mushtaq, is in the hujra, and so I go to hujra. Mushtaq is sitting with Abdur in the veranda. I say salam to them and then go to my room. The room and veranda are not next to each other but there is a courtyard between them. Mushtaq also comes right after me. We are sitting on the carpet but not talking. It is the same room where we – Mushtaq, Irfan, and I – have spent many nights discussing philosophy, but today we are sitting like someone has died.

“What is wisdom?” He begins the discussion.

“Wisdom…” The question that otherwise would be very difficult for me to answer, but today when I know it, my mouth is shut. I’m already enjoying extra life. Is it really enjoyment? I smile to myself. I’m looking down and drawing lines with my finger on the floor. I bend up my head and look out of the window. The green mulberry tree in the courtyard looks very lifeless today. Its leaves are motionless as if an artificial paper tree. I again imagine the light in the center of non-intersecting lines. It reminds me, “Told you. Is it enjoyable?” Of course, it is not. I leave Mushtaq there and head home. Inside the house, I don’t go to my room, instead, I go in the other direction to the garden. The garden, which is about a quarter acre, is mostly dry because of the scarcity of water. I sit on the ground by the edge of the garden. It is noon of a hot sunny day, but I don’t feel any hotness.

Meanwhile, Hafiz finds me there. He squats next to me and gives me some pills. He says that he tried to make an appointment for me with a doctor, but because of the weekend, he couldn’t make one; however, the doctor gave him a prescription on the phone. He says that these pills will help me to rest. I understand what kind of rest he’s talking about: rest in peace. I know these are death pills. He wants me to die peacefully. I take the tablets from him and put it in my mouth without even looking at them. I ask Hafiz to leave me alone. I go inside the garden and find a place to lie on. In the middle of the trees, I lie in a prone position expanding my arms forward. There are also thorns on the ground which inject into my body. They rather soothe me. I’m relieved from all the pain I had in my life. I submit to death. I have no fear now. I notice the soul is peacefully leaving my body. Then I feel that big ants are crawling on my body, but I cannot do anything to them because I’m dead.

“Shahid, Shahid, where are you?” Hafiz is shouting.

It surprises me. How could I hear him if I’m dead? This might be an afterlife. Another secret reveals to me: dead people can hear but they cannot respond. Hafiz shouts again saying to get up. Now he’s standing by me. When he gets frustrated that I’m not responding, he lifts my arm and drops it. The arm falls back on the ground. Meanwhile, Sajida also gets here. She’s asking Hafiz to lift me. Eventually, Hafiz lift me and puts me on his shoulder. Though he’s younger than me, he is taller and his a tough body. It is a long walk from there to my room. On the way, I realize he must be tired. I ask him in low voice, “I can walk.” He puts me down and I walk on my feet. “Walking dead.” I say to myself. The world has so changed. It would be in all newspapers tomorrow that a dead person was walking, but I’d not be able see it as I’d be buried.

I lie in my bed. My feet are facing south. Feet cannot face west or north. In the west is Kaaba in Mecca, while in the north is the old Kabba – Baithul Muqadda – which is in Jerusalm. My eyes are closed. If I open it, I’ll see the clock hanging on the front wall. I’m lying straight, my hands on my chest.

Meanwhile, my eldest brother, my mother and probably my sisters also rush. Since my eyes are closed, I cannot tell who are here. Probably all my family members. They have just been informed about my death. They are not talking but I can tell one of them is reciting the Quran. The Quran is recited in the deceased’s room, to make his/her afterlife easier. They then leave me alone and close the door. I can hear women are weeping in the courtyard. The weeping sound fades away. Now I know it is night. Most people have left.

It is now next day. My funeral is arranged. My body is put in the coffin and taken to the graveyard. The graveyard is in Teddi bazaar. My funeral is taken to the graveyard by feet. I don’t hear anything but ripples in space. After the funeral prayer, my body is buried. People disperse after the burial. Now I’m alone in the tomb. The ripples in space also disappear. Perfect darkness and silence. This heaven. But what will I do here? In the other world, I liked brevity and wrote short stories. My shortest story was:

Afsaana loves Negaar. Neither am I Negaar nor are you Afsaana.

This world, on the other hand, is infinite. To entertain myself, I need to expand my stories by adding more and more characters. In the other world, stories had ends, but here are no ends.

** Later in the night, I really wake up in my bed. When I open my eyes, I’m sleeping on my right side. I don’t believe it. Am I alive or dead? I stretch my legs if they move. Then I turn straight and see the clock hanging on the wall. When I turn left, I see someone sleeping on the floor. I get up to go to the bathroom. The person on the floor, who turns out to be Aziz, also gets up and asks me if I need anything. I’m very confused. How did I make the transition to the previous world? I go to the bathroom and keep thinking. Perhaps I have made a transition to another world where the same people welcome me who I left in the previous world. I’m dead in one world and alive in the other