It was a pleasant Saturday afternoon. “Mammy, shall we visit Shakira’s house?” asked Hamdha, her mother. “Her father has been discharged from the hospital”.
“Your father has visited many times,” said her mother, “I have never visited their house since I got married to your father”.
“Really?”.
“Yeah, the relationship between the two families wasn’t so good for such a long time”.
“Shakira’s father is dad's cousin's brother, right?”.
“Yeah, Shakira’s grandfather and your grandfather were brothers”, said Hamdha's mother, "they were brothers in their father's side".
“That means I and Shakira are cousin sisters,” Hamdha said delightedly.
“Yeah, didn’t you really know these things before?”.
“Yeah, I know that she is a relative. But, I didn’t know exactly how she is related" said Hamdha.
“There are more things to the history. Their mothers were different. They were sisters. Your grandfather's father married them after another. That means you grandfather's father divorced your grandfather's mother and married Shakira's grandfather's mother, understood?"
"I try to understand", laughed Hamdha.
"For me too, it took many years to understand. The whole quarrel between our families has the roots of one century of history”.
“Oh really? Who cares about those ancient things now?" said Hamdha, "shall we visit Shakira's house today, mammy?”.
“Their house? No. I don’t think it’s a good idea”.
“Why? We must visit. It won't be right if we don't visit them in this situation. I will create a very wrong impression”.
“Your father has already visited several times”, said Hamdha’s mother.
“Something has terribly happened to them, right? We also should visit”.
“You are right. We must pay a visit. But, they accuse us as though we hit that man. Now how to look at their faces. It won’t be comfortable. What if they started a quarrel in front of everyone”.
“But, now everyone knows that my father is innocent”.
“Yeah, but, did you forget how much it hurt when they were accusing us? I think Shakira still believes your father is the culprit”.
“Yeah, but… then, shall I go with Rushdha and come. You need not come, if you don't feel comfortable”.
“With Rushdha?”, Hamdha’s mother sounded angrier than before. She apparently hated the idea of Hamdha going to Shakira’s house in the first place. Going with Rushdha was something else, especially after the recent incident at the restaurant.
“I will come. No need to go with that girl”.
“Mammy, I think you have started hating Rushdha also”.
“Not really. I don’t hate anyone. But, I just try to overprotect my daughter”.
****
Within the next half-an-hour, Hamdha and her mother were at Shakira’s house.
Shakira and her mother didn’t expect Hamdha and her mother. It was the first time in their lifetime Hamdha and her mother visited Shakira’s house.
“Welcome. Come in. Come in”, invited Shakira’s mother.
“We live close-by in the same village. But, this is the first time we ever visit your house”.
“Yeah, people don’t have time these days. Not like before. Time flies thesedays. We also haven’t visited your house”.
The conversation continued. It had started showering outside in a pleasant manner.
****
Minhaj’s heart was pounding fast. He was restless since uncle Shareek and aunt Fauziya’s last visit. There was an uncomfortable silence within the walls of Minhaj’s house.
All three of them - Minhaj, his mother and his sister Rushdha - were apparently reliving through the vivid memory of what uncle Shareek couple had told them.
But, there was a sort of psychological barrier that was putting obstacles to come out from the confinement of their thought prison.
There were some parts of the uncle Shareek and aunt Fouziya couple’s conversation that did not make any sense to Minhaj.
“You shouldn’t try to fly before your wings grow strong enough”, uncle Shareek had said.
“Your mother is talking about your marriage, Minhaj?”, aunt Fauziya had asked him in a sarcastically teasing tone.
Minhaj could have possibly guessed what could have possibly happened. His mother had got some idea about his marriage and she had discussed it with aunt Fauziya.
Minhaj wanted to confirm his guessing from his mother’s mouth itself. But, he wasn’t feeling comfortable starting the conversation on his own. Minhaj and his mother had never discussed his marriage before.
Saturday was a holiday. Minhaj did not have any work outside. He stayed home. He had plenty of opportunities to talk about it. But, he didn’t.
Then, it was Saturday night, after Isha prayer.
Minhaj, his sister Rushdha, his mother and his youngest sister were sitting together and were having their dinner.
Thankfully, Rushdha broke the silence. “Umma, why did aunt Fawziya talk like this? She always behaves like this. She is pathetical when she starts to talk. She is very rude”.
“Not only her. Uncle Shareek as well”, Minhaj added.
“Yeah, they try to dictate us. We keep silent for the sake of respect”, Rushdha uttered.
“It is their nature, my kids. We will just adjust them and go”, mother never wanted to quarrel with anyone, especially with this couple of poisonous tongues.
“But, how can we adjust when they always peep into our house affairs? For how long should we adjust? We have adjusted them for all these years”, Minhaj said.
“We deserve to have our privacy. Minhaj Nana’s marriage is our concern. Who are they to interfere?”, Rushdha said angrily.
“They just do the things for our welfare”, mother tried to defend her sister. “You two are just kids. Don’t try to start a quarrel with them”.
“Umma, we are not kids”, said Minhaj, “Rushdha, this is not going to work. We have to put a full stop to their tongues”.
“Yes, Minhaj Nana, they are crossing their limits”.
“Please, stop this nonsense. She is your aunt”, mother said sternly, “actually, it was my fault”.
“Your fault?”
“Yeah, my mistake. I talked to her about your marriage, Minhaj. That’s the mistake”.
“About my marriage?”. Minhaj asked, he could feel that his body was trembling, “What about it?”.
“Rushdha told me about a girl. So, I just wanted to have a conversation about her with aunt Fauziya”.
Minhaj looked at Rushda.
“Don’t get angry with me, Minhaj Nana. Umma scolded me when I told Umma. But, she had talked to aunt Fauziya. I had no idea about it”.
“Who is she? I mean this girl you are talking about”.
“It is none of your concern”, Umma said quickly.
“What? None of my concern? I am the one who is going to get married”.
“I know when you should get married. First, I should approve the girl before you get married".
“That’s fine. But, I just wanted to be curious, who is this girl my kind sister is talking about”.
“You remember you have another kind sister, my kind son. I mean your elder sister. First, it's her turn to get married. Then, we can think about you, understand? Only if you had settled in a proper job”. Mother wanted to sound humorous, but helplessly ended up in her usually serious tone.
“I will be a business magnet soon. You need not worry about my job, Umma”.
“And you must get rid of these business fantasies. I am talking about a job. A real job where you will get a salary for sure at the end of every month”.
“Business fantasies? You don’t believe me, ah? Don’t believe my efforts, Umma?”
“My son, please listen. I am unable to face everyone. Everyone is asking what you are up to these days. Sometimes I feel very awkward. Please, get a good job. Forget about business. It's a very risky and fluid sort of thing”.
“Don’t worry, Umma. You will soon be able to tell everyone that your son is a business magnet. After that, you can respectfully go to anyone searching for a bride… You can even go to Mohideen Haajiyar’s house and courageously ask his daughter for me in marriage”.
Rushdha and her mother were looking at each other’s face meaningfully.
“Please listen, my son. Get a job. What about a teaching position? The new friend of yours is keenly interested in teaching, isn’t it? So, these days people of your age get into teaching, right?”.
“You talk about Shibly? He and I are not in the same boat, Umma. His family has been teaching for three generations. For more than fifty years. Teaching is in his blood. You know what it is there in my blood? Business. I want to regain everything that our father lost”.
Rushdha expected her mother would cry. But, she didn’t. The mother kept silent.
****
Sunday, 8.00 am
Mohideen Haajiyar was sitting and casually talking in the Akbar mosque office, with three other important village leaders. Those three are the people Mohideen Haajiyar had the highest confidence in the village affairs.
One of them was Zubair Haajiyar, the trustee of Akbar mosque.
The other one was Izzadeen sir, the deputy principal.
The third one was Ubaidullah Hazrath, an old cleric.
It has been almost one week since the principal was attacked. Normalcy had already returned in the village. However, the one who was mostly affected by the incident was Mohideen Haajiyaar.
People had spread rumours that it was Mohideed Haajiyar who attempted to murder the principal.
“Actually, I am thinking of stepping down from all my public positions I am holding. What do you think?” asked Mohideen Haajiyar, “I will still contribute to the society financially. There won’t be any question about it. But, I won't hold any office. Then, I will be able to concentrate more on my business as well”.
“No. Never think of that. This village needs your service, Hajiyar”, Izzadeen sir said.
“I don’t know anyone else who is capable of handling the leadership”, Zubair Haajiyar said in his usual honest serious tone. “Anyone could wish to be a leader. Only the people in the position would realize its burden”.
“I think, the son is more worried about criticism of these people….”, Ubaidullah Hazrath was talking for the first time. He must be above eighty. He was struggling to remember the name of the organization “MARUDUR FIRST”.
“Yes, Hazrath, that’s right. I wanted to forget and forgive everything. But, sometimes criticisms are too harsh. No matter how much we try to behave nicely, they never compromise”.
“Son, man is ungrateful even to his God, the one who created him from nothing. How can we expect them to show their gratitude for normal human beings like us?”
“Yeah, that’s right, Hazrath ”.
Ubaidullaah Hazrath continued. “There are two types of people. The first one is someone who lives by detaching himself from society. They never mingle with others and never have to be patient with people's shortcomings. The second type of people is the ones who live with society. They must be patient with the people's shortcomings, for their mistakes and troubles. Whom do you think is best in the sight of God?”.
“Indeed the second type of people”.
“Yeah, Mohideen son, you are in a position to lead the society. You do lots of good things. God doesn’t give this opportunity to everybody. This is a great gift. But, there is turbulence and hardship with everything. That is the nature of this worldly life. We have to be patient. Allah loves the ones who are patient”.
“Your kind words sound like cool water for my thirsty heart, Hazrath”.
“All praise be to God. Don’t think of stepping down from your post, for now, son. That is the advice I can give you if you wish to hear any suggestions from myself”.
“MARUDUR FIRST is giving too much trouble these days. We have to design a strategy to tackle them. So far we have been too gentle and lenient with them. But, they don’t let us do anything. They always criticize”, said Zubair Haajiyar.
“If they criticize once in a while, that’s okay. But, they do it impulsively. They don't sound constructive criticism at all. But, let’s hope they do it out of good intention”, Izzadeen sir uttered.
“Good intentions alone cannot ever make anything good”.
“Do you think there is anything that we can do for this?”
“This sort of issue always happens in societies. There is always an opposition party. But, this particular team is more educated”.
“And inspired by old family rivalry”.
“That’s right”.
“Hazrath, do you have any ideas?”.
“Actually, I don’t have one. You all are civil leaders. You don’t have legal rights to stop them. All of them are in one way or another blood-related. I think it is better to leave them as they wish. At one point, they will realize their mistake. If you try to fix them all at once, it could complicate everything. Temperance is crucial. Hastiness is a character of Shaytaan. Let’s be patient and pray to God for a good solution”, said Hazrath, “we can't forget that some of the mistakes of our leaders also help them get more supporters”.
****
MARUDUR FIRST was a union of educated few who wanted to gain the civil power of Marudur society. They could have functioned with other leaders cooperatively. But, they didn’t. MARUDUR FIRST wanted the complete power, not a slice of a cake.
The organization was fueled by the years-old rivalry between two influential families within the village.
The principal was its president. Mr Shareek, Minhaj's Fauziya aunt's husbdand, was its secretary. It was a legally registered organisation. Marudur civil leaders could not do anything to stop its arrogance. However, there was a huge civil sanction against it. Only because of MARUDUR FIRST leaders’ arrogant criticism and accusations against respected leaders of Marudur like Mohideen Haajiyar and their works.
The principal was discharged from the hospital on Wednesday. For the next few days, old friends, relatives, staff members, students and many important figures of the village paid him a visit.
All of his MARUDUR FIRST associates visited him.
It was Sunday, around 10.00 am.
Mr Shareek visited the principal’s house once again. Mr Shareek was one of the closest associates of the principal in MARUDUR FIRST and was its general secretary.
Hamzi, the principal’s son, was also sitting in front of them, silently listening to their conversation. Mr Shareek was always an inspiring person for Hamzy.
“We have to do something, sir. They think they can do whatever they want”, Mr Shareek told the principal.
“Come on, Mr Shareek, when I got discharged from the hospital, I was thinking I should get rid of all these things”, the principal said laughingly. His voice sounded weak. “They are the ones who accepted all my hospital expenditures. I feel a sense of gratitude towards them. After all, they are all none other than my blood relatives”.
Mr Shareek felt the alarm deep down his stomach. He did not have any blood relationship here in Marudur. His only source of power was the family he was married into and then, of course, the MARUDUR FIRST.
"It is their responsibility, sir. You are not fighting with anyone. You just do your duty for the well being of this village".
"I am thinking of joining them, Mr Shareek. I think I can do something meaningful only if I join them. MARUDUR FIRST is not going anywhere. We haven't achieved anything out of this association, except criticising everyone. It is stagnated and doesn't work. I hate this bitter fight with my own blood relatives. I am thinking of quitting MARUDUR FIRST, Mr Shareek. Any of you could take over my position in the association" said the Principal.
“Sometimes I feel we do nothing except criticise. My heart feels the guilt”.
"Sir, you do good things. Never give up. Then, what would happen to us, if you give up? Association was your original idea. These people cannot lead this society just because they have money. Take Mohideen Haajiyar, for example. What is his qualification? He didn't even pass ordinary level examination. But, he leads the village. This is ridiculous".
Association was in reality Mr Shareek’s idea. It was his power source, his life-support system. Mr Shareek would not allow the principal to easily flop from this endeavour.
"That’s right. He doesn’t have any credentials. But, even educated people are on his side, aren’t they? We are helpless, Mr Shareek. What can we do?".
"People take side with powerful people, sir. They are simply status-hungry and selfish".
"You ask me to struggle further?". The principal laughed again, this time, with more enthusiasm.
"Yeah, never give up. Never stop, sir. We have to change everything upside down. They are doing patchwork. There are a lot of gaps in the community that need to be truly filled. The village needs our service. Our village needs us, I mean, the MARUDUR FIRST and a competent leadership".
“I just wanted to retire and just wanted to stop the whole problem. You are persisting in fighting with these people. Mr Shareek, you deserve to be the president of MARUDUR FIRST”.
"No, sir. I will always be your secretary, always be your right hand". But, it will happen, Mr Principal, in due course, when the time arrives, but not at the moment.
“Shareek sir is correct, dad. Let’s continue our association works with actively”, sadi Hamzi, the principal's son, after breaking his long silence. “There is no reason to stop it”.
“I am feeling so weak after the incident, Mr Shareek. What about those rascals?”, the principal changed the subject and was asking about the boys who attacked him.
“They are not important, sir. Little kids. There is one good thing that happened after the incident. MARUDUR FIRST now has more supporters in the village. For the first time, everyone would have realized how powerful we are. Let’s simply forget about those boys. If we try to do something now, it could go terribly wrong at the moment. It could spoil our whole advantageous position. We will find someone else to blow the whistle. We are not going to be directly involved in this”.
“Someone else, you mean outside people? You are going to use mobs? I suppose you won't do such things, would you?”.
“No, sir, absolutely not. We won't go that far”.
****
Shibly’s Diary
Sunday night,
Last Sunday I stepped foot in Marudur. Monday morning I started my first job. On the same evening, the principal was attacked. People in the village started their verbal fight with each other on social media. It was a long week.
I had to shift to the Akbar mosque room and then shift again to my present room. I am obliged to Minhaj. It was because of his effort, I got a comfortable place to stay. Staying in the Akbar mosque room was a nightmare.
Minhaj is a good boy, a very help-minded person. But, how bad his situation is...!!
His father died all of a sudden when Minhaj was still a kid. His mother brought up all her kids with so much difficulty. She naturally had a high expectation of Minhaj like any other mother would expect her son to be. But, what has Minhaj done?
I had known only one side of Minhaj. Mr Shareek told me about his other side.
It was in the Principal's house I met Mr Shareek when I had visited the principal. Mr Shareek was Minhaj’s uncle. One of Minhaj’s aunts’ husband. Mr Shareek was such a well-educated gentleman.
It was so sad how the power-hungry, super-rich Marudur civil leaders have sidelined people like Mr Shareek from taking village leadership positions.
“Shibly sir, Minhaj’s situation is so bad. Not as you think. His mother wants him to end up in a good job. But, what does he do? He is so foolish. He wants to start a business on his own. He thinks starting a business is such a simple thing. How much money does he need?. How much risk does he have to take on his shoulders? Where could he get all this money from?”, Mr Shareek told me.
“We, government servants, earn our salary at the end of every month for sure. So, we can plan our expenditures in advance. We get used to financial discipline. But, he wants what? He doesn’t want to learn any discipline. He has a fantasy of spending as much as he wishes. Why do we tell him all these things? Because we care about him and about his family. Do you know what he is planning to do right now? He is going to get married. Before getting settled in a stable job. That would be the end of him”.
Mr Shareek was so harsh. But, I could understand how angry he was with him for Minhaj’s own good. My first impression about Minhaj was that he was a very responsible person. But, It was wrong.
Minhaj is indeed a very helpful young man, but not a responsible person. He is just a playful character, just like many of my friends back in my village. If he wants to start a business, why does he need a degree in sociology? It is ridiculous.
“Come and join our association, Shibly sir”, Mr Shareek invited me. “MARUDUR FIRST is doing many humanitarian works in this village that these rich brains have no idea of. It is an association of educated people. We could not expect that these rich guys would do any good things. They want to remain as leaders for generations. We in MARUDUR FIRST do some alternative works. Our principal is its president”.
On Friday evening I went home. My cousin Nifra was getting married. I should go back to Marudur tomorrow morning, Monday. My first job will be to join MARUDUR FIRST. I should do something meaningful to the community where I work.
I can't walk further with rich people. Rich people respect only the rich guys. Rich people become friends with only the rich. In wedding ceremonies and funerals, they sit together. They dominate the scene.
My cousin Nifra got married today in a five-star hotel. I am the one who must have married her. I was her fiance. But, she got married to someone else who looked like a Tamil cinema villain. Just like a parrot got married to a donkey.
Why…? There was only one thing. Money. Money. Money. Nothing else, but money. Money is the most powerful thing in this world. My uncle rejected me only because I don’t have enough cash balance in my bank account and because I won’t make a fortune. Shame on you, uncle.
((To be continued))
_ _ _ _
Previous chapter: chapter 14 - "we are late, Minhaj"
Next chapter: chapter 16 - you will pay for this...!
* 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
