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It was almost 9.30 pm at night.
The atmosphere was too silent. Not a comfortable silent. A frightening silence. More silent than Marudur. Even the sounds of little insects were entirely audible.
Shibly had just started his life in this new boarding room. It was the Akbar Mosque room, which was situated by the old graveyard.
Marudur village had started falling asleep in the distance. The lights were started to be switched off one after one.
For Shibly, the thought of staying in a graveyard was depressing.
Shibly had never thought he would end up in a place like this. He wasn’t looking for a luxurious place. However, he had expected a place with little comfort.
Was he brought up with too many luxuries that made him unable to cope up with the difficulties of life?
Being a place least hygienic disgustingly, the boarding room was also situated by the graveyard. It was pathetic.
Shibly tried to rationalize his frightening thought of living by a graveyard.
What has he believed so far about the souls? What happens to souls when a person dies? After all, what is the meaning of life and death?
He believed in a life after death. Death is the separation of the soul from its physical body. Once the soul gets separated from its physical body, its life-after-death begins.
These souls would start tasting their rewards for the actions that they did when they were alive.
The souls of dead people had no way of wandering in the neighbourhood. They would have to deal with more serious issues. These souls would be permanently separated from the material world we live in. There is no way of crossing between both the worlds.
This was how Shibly believed. If the souls of dead people could wander and harm people in this world, people would never be able to live close by graveyards or cemeteries anywhere in the world.
After this spiritual investigation, Shibly’s heart found relief. He started concentrating on other things.
He had to get prepared for the next day's work.
Suddenly he heard the sounds of some footsteps walking towards his room. Then, his room door was knocked. Unconsciously, Shibly’s heart started pounding fast again.
****
“Who is it?”, Shibly asked.
“Assalamu Alaikum, Shibly”, it was Rizwan sir’s voice that was greeting him.
Shibly opened the door. Next to Rizwan sir, there stood another man of nearly sixty years old.
The man was quite a fair looking man, with a greying beard and hair. He was wearing a white cap and spectacles. He was smiling with his eyes. Those eyes were conveying a pure sense of paternal kindness and care. At the glance, Shibly felt this person to be a remarkably intelligent man.
Shibly knew the person very well. It was a very familiar face. But, he could not remember exactly who this person was.
“Please, come in”, Shibly invited and both of them got into the room.
“You couldn’t guess who I am, right?”, the new man asked, speaking for the first time.
It was a crystal clear Eastern province Tamil accent. His voice had magnetic power.
Rizwan sir was smiling meaningfully but did not utter a word. Suddenly, Shibly realised who this man was.
He was Izzadeen sir, the deputy principal.
Shibly was staying in fact in his quarters itself. He had seen him in photograph in the school today.
Izzadeen sir had been to Eastern province for a wedding ceremony and must have returned this afternoon after heard of yesterday’s unfortunate incident.
“I think…. You’re Izzadeen sir, right?”, asked Shibly.
“There you go. You got to find out at last”, all of them laughed.
“How are you? How things are going on?”, Izzadeen sir asked with genuine care.
“Fine, sir. Doing well”, Shibly said.
“Why did you come to this boarding-room in a hurry? Actually, I have come alone. My family is still in Eastern province. You could have stayed in the quarters. This is not a comfortable place, is it?”
“Actually I was looking for a suitable boarding room for him. But, today I was too busy after yesterday’s incident. He somehow found this place and came here”, Rizwan sir said.
“It doesn’t matter, sir. There are not many boarding rooms available in Marudur”, Shibly said.
“I feel sorry for you, Shibly. The hostel condition is so bad", said Izzadeen sir.
“It doesn’t matter, sir. I hope it will be a good experience, you know, sir, we need to get used to all sorts of experiences in life”.
“I am afraid It doesn’t work that way, Shibly. For one or two days, you can manage. Exposing ourselves to unhygienic life conditions for a prolonged period would have an impact even on our personality. It’s not a good thing”, said Izzadeen sir.
Rizwan sir also agreed with Izzadeen sir.
“People rationalise their bad life circumstances. In reality, the derogatory conditions are not good and commendable”, Izzadeen sir continued.
Shibly felt contended. After all, his bad feelings with the new place were not because of his own weakness and the wrong parenting approach of his parents. It was just human nature.
“Actually, when I got my first teaching appointment in Vijayapura several years before, I stayed here. At that time, this place was well maintained. You know, it was free. We did not have to pay any rent”, Izzadeen sir was telling the history of the hostel.
“However, many people did not behave responsibly. You know the type of problems that could occur when there is a bachelors’ hostel in a neighbourhood?! At first, people were tolerant. Then, they slowly started opposing the idea of having a hostel here. So, the board of trustees were compelled to charge a rent to discourage people who used to seek this place. After some time, they stopped maintaining the place. That’s why there are very few people here these days”.
“Still, people seem to behave the same. Time has changed. But, the nature and attitude of people have not changed"
Rizwan sir and Shibly were listening to Izzadeen sir.
“Sir, did you arrive this afternoon?”, Shibly asked.
“No, actually I got the bus yesterday night itself. It was four o‘clock early morning when I reached Vijayapura. I prayed the dawn prayer in Marudur. I had to meet Mohideen Haajiyar, Doctor Zaidh and many other important people. I had a meeting with executive members of the Marudur Development Society and then, the Mosque federation. I went to the hospital and met our principal. Just now all the work got finished. Rizwan sir told me that our new staff has arrived. So, I thought of meeting you and came here”.
Shibly was so pleased and felt a great sense of gratitude for not forgetting a humble soul like him, even in Izzadeen sir’s busy schedule.
“Rizwan sir told me about you. He said you have enthusiastically selected this teaching profession”.
“Yes sir, that’s right”. Shibly was telling Izzadeen sir about his teaching parents and grandfather.
“Ok. We will meet tomorrow in the school”, Izzadeen sir stood up to leave.
“Had your dinner?”.
Only then Shibly realized how hungry he was. He had not taken anything after the tea that he had taken at Hamzi’s house.
“Rizwan sir has brought you dinner”.
“Actually, it is Izzadeen sir’s treat, not mine, though literally, I have brought it in my hands”.
Everyone laughed.
Rizwan sir handed over Shibly the dinner parcel and both of them left.
Small things could nurture an eternal friendship. They could build your respect which otherwise could not be bought with money or authority. Shibly felt a true sense of respect towards Izzadeen sir and Rizwan sir after this late-night meeting.
****
It was almost seven o’clock after sunset. The magenta sky was slowly getting darkened.
Hamizi’s phone was ringing. It was his sister, Shakira.
Hamzi answered the phone.
On the other end, Shakira was weeping.
“Hey, sister, why are you crying?”.
“No. it’s nothing. Why are you getting so late to record a voice note?”.
“Voice note? You are crying for my voice note? I have never thought my voice could have such fans like you, you know”.
“Please, will you shut up?”
“Okay, Go on”.
“Why are you getting so late to record and share the voice note about the incident”.
“Look, sister. I can’t send a voice note. I will do something else. Please, be patient”.
“Don’t try your useless ideas. They are not going to work. Simply do what I said”.
“How do you know they are not going to work?”
“Because it is the product of your brain. Everyone knows it has a no capacity to produce anything effective. It can’t produce anything except childish things”.
“You are treating me like a kid, sister”.
“Of course, you always behave like a kid. Without any sense of seriousness”.
“I am telling you seriously. You are disrespecting me”.
“Oh, thank god, at least now you are serious", Shakira uttered in a mocking tone, "but, this is what you simply deserve, Hamzi. You must earn your respect. It’s not your birthright".
“Sister, You make me angry. I always respect you. I expect the same in return. Don’t I deserve basic human dignity?”.
“There you go. You are talking about dignity. I can realise you have somewhat grown up. In the same way, protect our family’s dignity as well”.
“Okay… How? How to protect our family’s dignity?”
“It’s rather simple. Send the voice note”.
“You are orbiting around the same topic again and again. I already told you. I can’t do it. It will create a lot of problems. I can’t face them alone. Just listen to this. I have an alternative plan”.
“Please forget about your clever alternative plans. First do what I said. It’s simple and straightforward”.
“You are trying to dictate me, sister. I am not your slave to do whatever you tell me. Remember that. Let’s discuss and have a plan… both of us together”.
“It’s pointless talking to you. I am wasting my valuable time”.
“Then, get lost”.
The line was disconnected.
****
It was ten o'clock in the night.
Shibly was scrolling his mobile checking for new messages.
Hamzi had sent him the photographs of the boys who had hit the principal. At once, Shibly’s mind was thinking again about the things Hamzi had told him. Hamzi was talking about a social media post.
Hamzi had already called Shibly three or four times.
Shibly got irritated.
“Bro, I am earnestly waiting for your post. Simply post the photo. It will really help our family”.
“I don’t understand how posting those boys’ photos would help you”, Shibly had said thoughtfully. “It sounds like everyone talks about protecting those boys’ identity. If I post it now, it could put me in great trouble. I don’t understand what is really going on here. I am simply a new person, an outsider”.
“Bro, have you ever hit your principal when you were a student?”, Hamzi asked calmly.
“No, not at all”.
“At least have you ever hit a teacher of yours?”
“No, never”.
“Do you think hitting a principal is a simple thing?”
“Of course, not”.
“I don’t understand why these people try to create such a precedent, brother. Many other students will wilfully commit all mistakes intentionally with the hope that there are a lot many people out there to protect their identity”.
Hamzi’s last point was convincing enough.
“You are absolutely right, Hamzi. It would encourage many other boys to commit mistakes. I agree with you. But, if you want to post those photos, you could have simply done it yourself. Why is it supposed to be me?”.
“Brother, first of all, I have always been a very playful character. Nobody has ever seen me doing anything serious. Even my own sister always scolds me that I behave like a child. If I post it, I don’t think anyone will take it seriously”.
“What about others? Your friends or relatives?”
“Brother, you are passing the ball. Someone has to blow the whistle. Why shouldn’t it be you?”.
“I am not passing the ball”, Shibly sounded apologetic. “I was just curious to understand”.
“Fine, the reality is that we don’t have real friends or relatives in this issue. Of course, many people support us. But, they do it because they hate the other party. Not because they love us”.
Shibly was silent. Hamzi continued: “We can’t leave everything to village bigshots. The school staff should take some initiative. But, almost all of them simply behave like puppets. They shake their heads for what these bigshots have to tell them. Izzadeen sir, Fahim sir, Rizwan sir and all others behave the same way".
“Hamzi, I have an instinct saying that it is better to wait for some time. I don’t see any reason why we have to hurry”.
“No, brother, we have to strike when the iron is still hot”, Hamzi said. “You are wondering why I am talking to you when you are still a newcomer. Am I right, brother?”
“Yeah, absolutely right”.
“Because you are the only neutral person I can spot. All the others have taken their sides. My father is helpless. Destiny has put him in a place where he has to play a puppet’s role now. He has to shake his head for everything for what these bigshots have to say. Please, do us the favour, brother. You have the responsibility”.
Shibly went wordless. “Ok, bro, I will send it”, he agreed reluctantly.
“Thanks, brother, thank you very much. I would never forget your favour”. Still, many questions were lingering in Shibly's mind. He decided to disregard them all.
What if any problem came?
He thought it is not courageous enough to think of consequences. After all, he has the freedom to express his opinion. He started composing the post. He had to make a painstaking effort because he was not much used to Tamil language typing.
“Assalam Alaikum everyone, I am Shibly. I am a newly appointed teacher. I just joined last Monday, on the black day when the two boys hit our principal. I can understand from these discussions of yours above that they are two grade nine boys who hit him. I appreciate your intention to keep their identity secret. But, I have a personal opinion on this. I am sure there will be many people in this forum who would agree with me.
We all have passed through school lives. How many of us have ever hit a principal or at least a teacher? Most of us would not at least have yelled at our teachers’ faces. This is how our custom has been. Then, how can we tolerate and protect these boys which could set a very wrong precedent and a bad example for other students?
This is your village. I am just a lonely stranger passing by. I cannot say a word about this. However, I have already started feeling this village as my own. I apologize in advance if my opinion is incorrect. What I feel is that it is better to reconsider the idea of protecting those boys - Thank you - with best regards, Shibly”.
Shibly felt the message was perfectly alright and almost was set ready to get posted. He wasn’t fond of posting the photographs, though.
Nonetheless, there was a final minute of reluctance. His instinct was saying that he is crossing his borders and making a statement of grave consequences when sufficient information is not yet available at his disposal.
Time was closer to eleven o’clock. Almost closer to midnight.
His mobile started ringing again. It was Hamzi.
Shibly got angry and annoyed this time.
Shibly switched off the mobile. His heart came to a sudden decision to wait until the next dawn before posting the message. His instinct was saying there was something seriously wrong somewhere.
((To be continued))
_ _ _ _
Next chapter: chapter 12 - What could she possibly doing right now?
Previous chapter: chapter 10 - the graveyard
* Characters, events and the places in this story are fictional and a mere product of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to real-world events or characters is merely coincidental.
** Vijayapura and Marudur are fictional places.
Riza Jaufer
Akurana -Kandy,
Sri Lanka
