There comes a time when not anything is simply remembered, although something always remains with you, and that time constantly remains in my reminiscence whilst he spoke to me.
It became an evening in the sizzling warmth of a hot day, and I changed into inside the tea house in which wordsmiths gather and dream—desires that are like ashes within the oven of the belly, desires which can be torment, goals that are salvation, dreams that are thoughts, and thoughts which might be goals. Dreams and mind and dreams… Some moths, even even as tormented by the burden of dreams and mind, keep dreaming. They deserve each respect and reproach—respect for his or her patience and reproach for those who, by using singing desires, lie to others into chasing mirages. To dispel the curse of the presence of dream merchants, I stepped outdoor to take a few puffs of a cigarette. As quickly as I opened the door, I noticed a infant lying on your step.
At first, it regarded to be a bundle of filth, however it changed into a toddler whose face turned into so blackened by means of the dirt of time that the layer of black appeared to face out. I’m positive if his face have been nicely washed with cleaning soap and lotion, it would have shone. The clothes on his higher frame were genuinely as soon as a shirt, and the fabric tied around his waist changed into an attempt at pants. I stood at a distance, observing him for a second, then lit a cigarette and persevered to watch.
Inside the tea house, there was mild, and outdoor, it was dark. I was questioning in that darkness, questioning what to do. I nudged him—no response. I nudged again—nonetheless no reaction. The 0.33 time, I shook him a little harder, and he let out a valid, but I couldn’t hear what he said. I couldn’t apprehend why this seven- or eight-12 months-vintage child turned into mendacity right here. There become a small step just two ft away from the door—he ought to have without problems slept there. I notion it might be disturbing to hold establishing the door. So, I picked him up and laid him on the step, placing his ragged bag of paper next to him. Then, I stood approximately ten feet away, became my face to the opposite facet, and lit any other cigarette, which tasted one-of-a-kind, perhaps due to the exchange in weather and mood.
I don’t remember precisely what became on my mind or how I become feeling at that moment. What I do take into account is that once I threw away the half of-finished cigarette on the street and became returned, I saw that he had returned to the doorstep. I lifted him again and asked if he became feeling ok. He stated, “Yes… I’m exceptional,” even though he wasn’t. I concept for a moment, took a few money out of my pocket, and slipped one hundred-rupee notice into his pocket. Before doing so, I checked his pocket to look if it turned into torn. I idea he have to move get some thing to eat, and I counseled it, however he lay backtrack. I requested him, “Why don’t you move domestic now?”
“Mom will come, and then I will pass.”
“Okay… Then circulate over and sleep there, at the step. The door keeps commencing, it’s going to disturb your sleep.” “It’s first-class here. Cold air comes under the door.”
Then silence fell, deep silence… I don’t precisely recall how long I stood there in silence, listening, and I don’t even do not forget whether or not I grew to become to observe him or not. What I do keep in mind is that at the time, there were many reports of missing kids inside the news. So, I scraped off a layer of bitterness and positioned it in front of him, the only who had spoken to me, and fell silent. I stayed silent for this type of long term that my silence seemed to unlock some thing in him, whose face I cannot really don’t forget, and I do not know if I even saw his face. It changed into dark then, but there has been additionally numerous light around him. What I saw in that blend of mild and darkness, I don’t understand for sure. What I do remember is his voice, which I can not describe. That very voice entreated me to speak, to mention some thing, however after that, what changed into I intended to say? So, I remained silent.
It changed into a chilly afternoon, so bloodless that it can not be defined. But for a laborer, what does cold or warmth depend? He simply has to fill the furnace of his belly. I had to visit paintings on my bike on that freezing afternoon, and as I grew to become onto a slender avenue main to the house of a minister, what did I see? It could were better if I hadn’t seen it, but I did—a bit boy, whose decrease body was completely naked, and above his waist, his shirt changed into greater of a rag than a blouse, sitting by way of a small heap of rubbish, eating something. I stored searching at him as I moved ahead, however after a quick distance, my motorcycle stopped. I checked the time—it became getting late.
I didn’t want to express regret, although I felt a touch ashamed due to the fact I were caught within the catch 22 situation of whether or not to keep going or turn lower back. Why was he naked in this bloodless? After a few moments of hesitation, I grew to become returned and stopped through him. In a commanding tone, I stated, “Hey, arise. What are you doing right here? Go home.”
But the boy, who seemed to be round ten years vintage, even though his body became skinny enough to appear like a child from a famine-troubled vicinity, had many unfastened results in his mind. I puzzled why his mind was so fragmented. A healer might say something, a cleric might say some thing, a physician could say something else, and you would say not anything, but I can handiest say that this boy, who had a truthful complexion but regarded light, smiled in reaction to my authoritative tone. He picked something from the rubbish and held it out to me to eat…
What become left to say? You saw this boy sitting within the bloodless afternoon, and also you stayed silent. And now you want me to hold speakme? What a funny story! Do you recognise that after he picked something from the garbage and provided it to me, I desired this world to sink into the Indian Ocean, and best that infant have to continue to exist? But me… I am deeply heartless. I tried to present him some cash and depart, however I couldn’t, because at that very second, a boy around 13 or fourteen stopped and addressed the child as though he knew him. I asked the boy where this infant lived, and after a few insistence, the boy pointed in the direction of a road about fifty to sixty ft away. Reluctantly, he helped the child onto my motorcycle, and walked ahead.
“What happened next?”
You say you know, so be given it. I received’t tell you some thing more due to the fact I know you stayed silent. You also understand that I gave the kid a few money, dropped him off at his door, and left. Yes, I left, and as I walked away, I spat at the entrance of the minister’s big palace, five mins’ stroll from the child’s house, and stored spitting as I exceeded by means of.
“So, is this why hatred continues bubbling inside you?”
“My hatred is my love.”
“How’s that?”
“You understand, so why ask?”
“To make you understand. To accurate the direction of your hatred. So tell me.”
“What ought to I inform you? What need to I show you?”
“Say whatever you desire, show anything you desire.”
“Okay, then I’ll show you a scene from my reminiscence that is…”
And I showed him a seven-12 months-vintage lady, whose empty eyes have been packed with a tale so painful that it couldn’t be heard in case you wanted to listen, nor overlooked in case you wished now not to pay attention it. Her hands were broken, wrists cut, jaw cracked, lips torn, nose smashed, chest filled with wounds, and legs twisted, as she became over excited in the filthy drain. The whole global become flowing with her. I showed him another corpse, mendacity on the rubble all day lengthy. I additionally confirmed him the daddy of the female, who became taking her to the clinic, clutching his doll in his palms, hoping she would possibly live on, but she didn’t. I confirmed him the kid swinging from a fan inside the temple, whose dad and mom had forgiven the rapist to store their different children. I confirmed him youngsters sacrificed like lambs in a faculty, whose funerals had been used by a few to reinforce their fame. I showed him many different corpses—small ones, tiny coffins… And I showed him men who had no reference to humanity, although they appeared human.
I requested him, “Who is responsible for this madness?”
“Not me.”
“So what? You ought to quit all this.”
He stated nothing, so I confirmed him a -year-old infant sitting in a vehicle along with his father, his face lit up with the idea of having his preferred toy. But from one facet, guys appeared who had no connection with humanity. I made him hear the cries of folks that fired bullets, and I confirmed him the 2-year-old baby who turned into shot three times, carrying a shielding amulet. I showed him a ten-12 months-antique lady, naked from head to toe, standing in the road, punished for disobeying her grasp’s command. I confirmed him an eight-year-old baby being dragged alongside a winding route, tied to a donkey for stealing a corn cob, and sentenced to the demise penalty for example. I confirmed him the corpse of a child nonetheless in its mom’s womb, who turned into killed for now not dancing, a bullet piercing its coronary heart.
I showed him the corpse of a singer lying inside the police station, however no document turned into filed. The corpse lay at the door of the SP, however still no record. When the clicking were given involved, the record become filed. This is a trouble—that no issue is taken into consideration an issue until the media makes it one. And when the media made it one, the shooter become stuck. I confirmed him the face of the man who had killed before, and I made a prediction: the face of the perpetrator would in the future be visible smiling, effective, in the front of the bars.
He didn’t say whatever about my prediction. So, I confirmed him the those who have been saying, “Be patient. Allah is with folks who are affected person.” I become sure that seeing this, he could communicate, just as I became certain he could communicate after listening to the ones slogans. But he remained silent. Not a phrase. He simply pointed a finger at me. I turned into too annoyed to apprehend what he intended, and I became even extra irritated.
There comes a time while nothing is in reality remembered, though something always remains with you. So, I don’t remember exactly what else I said to him, but I do recall he remained silent. Then I too fell silent, and this silence lasted see you later and deep that the entirety around us appeared to stay silent. In that silence, I got lost, and so did he—and all of the youngsters, individuals who have been seen and shown. But on the doorstep of the tea house, in the mirage of the bloodless wind, some other child, wrapped in a package deal, changed into dreaming.
اک چپ سو دکھ | One silence a thousand pains
Ek waqt aata hai jab kuch bhi wazeh yaad nahi rehta, lekin kuch na kuch hamesha saath rehta hai, aur woh waqt mere zehan mein hamesha rehta hai jab usne mujhse baat ki thi.
Yeh ek shaam thi, garmi ke din ki taiz dhoop mein, aur main us chai ke thele par tha jahan adabi log jama hote hain aur khwab dekhte hain—khwab jo pet ki aag mein raakh ki tarah hote hain, khwab jo azaab hain, khwab jo nijat hain, khwab jo soch hain, aur soch jo khwab hain. Khwab aur soch aur khwab… Kuch titliyaan jo khwab aur soch ke bojh se dard seh kar bhi khwab dekhte rehte hain. Unhein izzat aur tanqeed dono milti hain—izzat unki lagan ki liye aur tanqeed un logon ki jo khwab gunguna kar doosron ko mirage dikhate hain. Khwab bechne walon ki tasavvur ko mitane ke liye, maine bahar nikal kar ek cigarette ka ek dohri maar li. Jaise hi maine darwaza khola, ek bacha darwaze par soya hua tha.
Pehle laga ke yeh gande ka ek dher hai, lekin yeh ek bacha tha jiska chehra itni dhool se kaala ho gaya tha ke woh kaala rang zyada hi nazar aata tha. Mujhe yaqeen hai agar uska chehra theek se dhoya jata toh woh chamakta. Uske jism ka upar wala hissa kisi waqt shirt tha, aur jo kapda usne kamar ke aas paas bandha tha, woh pant banne ki koshish thi. Main kuch faasla rakhta hua usay dekh raha tha, phir ek cigarette jala li aur usay dekhta raha.
Chai ke thele ke andar roshni thi, aur bahar andhera. Main us andhere mein soch raha tha, yeh sochta hua ke kya karoon. Maine use jhukaaya—koi jawab nahi aaya. Phir se jhukaaya—ab bhi koi jawab nahi. Teesri baar thoda zor se usay hilaaya, to usne awaaz di, lekin mujhe yeh sunayi nahi diya. Main samajh nahi paaya ki yeh saat ya aath saal ka bacha yahaan kyon soya tha. Darwaze ke bilkul pass ek chhoti si seedi thi—wo aasani se wahan so sakta tha. Maine socha har waqt darwaza kholna thoda mushkil hoga. Isliye, maine use uthaya aur seedi par le jaa kar sohne ke liye rakh diya, uski ghareeb si kaghazi thaili uske paas rakh di. Phir, main das kadam door khaada ho gaya, apna chehra doosri taraf kar liya, aur ek aur cigarette jalayi, jo ek ajeeb sa taste de rahi thi, shayad mausam aur mood ki tabdili ki wajah se.
Mujhe yaad nahi aata ki us waqt mere zehan mein kya tha ya main kis soorat mein tha. Jo kuch yaad hai, woh yeh hai ke jab maine cigarette ka aadha khaali tukda sadak par phenka aur mooh mod kar wapas dekha, toh dekha ke woh wapas darwaze par soya hua tha. Maine phir se uthaya aur poocha ke kya woh theek hai. Usne kaha, “Haan… theek hoon,” lekin uski awaaz se lagta tha ke woh theek nahi tha. Main thodi dair ke liye socha, phir apne jeb se paisa nikala aur sau-rupee ka note uski jeb mein daal diya. Pehle, uski jeb ko dekha tha, kahin phati na ho. Main chahta tha ke woh kuch khane ke liye jaaye, lekin woh waise hi wahan soya raha. Maine usse poocha, “Tum ghar nahi jaoge?”
“Ammi aayengi, phir main jaunga.”
“Thik hai… phir idhar se uth kar seedi par so jao. Darwaza khulta rahega, tumhein neend mein pareshani hogi.”
“Yahan theek hai. Darwaze ke neeche se thandi hawa aati hai.”
Phir khamoshi cha gayi, gehri khamoshi… Mujhe yaad nahi ke main kitni der khamoshi mein khada raha, sunta raha, aur yeh bhi yaad nahi ke kya maine usse dekha bhi ya nahi. Jo kuch mujhe yaad hai woh yeh hai ke us waqt khabron mein kayi bacho ke gayab hone ki reports chal rahi thi. Toh, maine apni tehni hui narmayi ka ek tukda nikala aur uske samne rakh diya, usi se baat karte hue khamoshi mein dub gaya. Main khamoshi mein is had tak khoya tha ke woh apne chehre ki tasveer bhi main wazeh nahi yaad kar pata, aur main nahi janta ke kya maine uska chehra dekha bhi tha ya nahi. Us waqt andhera tha, lekin uske aas paas kaafi roshni bhi thi. Woh roshni aur andhere ka milaap jo dekha, main yeh kehne mein kho gaya. Jo kuch mujhe yaad hai, woh uski awaaz thi, jo main wazeh taur par bayan nahi kar sakta. Wahi awaaz thi jo mujhe baat karne ke liye kehti thi, par us waqt main kya kehta? Isliye, main khamosh raha.
Yeh ek thanda dopahar tha, itna thanda ke bayaan nahi kiya jaa sakta. Lekin mazdoor ko garmi ya thand se kya farq padta hai? Usse toh apne pet ki aag bharni hoti hai. Main is sard dopahar mein apne motorcycle par kaam par jaana tha, aur jaise hi mein ek narrow raaste se minister ke ghar ki taraf mod raha tha, toh kya dekha? Acha hota agar maine na dekha hota, lekin dekha—ek chhota bacha, jiska neeche ka hissa bilkul nanga tha, aur upar ka shirt zyada jhujh ka tukda lagta tha, ghareeb kapdon mein baitha hua tha, kuch kha raha tha. Main usay dekh raha tha jab tak main aage nahi badh gaya, lekin kuch hi faasla par meri motorcycle ruk gayi. Maine waqt dekha—der ho gayi thi.
Mujhe maaf karne ki koi zaroorat nahi thi, lekin maine thoda sharminda feel kiya kyun ke main is faasle mein atka hua tha ke jaaun ya wapas jaaun. Woh kyon nanga tha is thand mein? Kuch sochne ke baad, maine wapas mod liya aur uske paas ruk gaya. Ek hukm ke tone mein kaha, “Hey, uth, yahaan kya kar raha hai? Ghar jaa.”
Lekin woh bacha, jo das saal ka lag raha tha, magar jiska jism faamin se bhi zyada dubla lag raha tha, uske zehan mein kafi faasla tha. Main soch raha tha ke uska zehan kyun itna khali ho gaya tha. Ek ilaj dene wala kuch kehta, ek ilmi uski baat karta, ek doctor kuch aur kehta, aur tum kuch nahi kehte, lekin main bas yeh keh sakta hoon ke yeh bacha, jo chehre se gora tha lekin zyada bejaan nazar aa raha tha, mere hukm bhare tone par muskaraaya. Usne kachre se kuch uthaya aur mujhe khaane ke liye de diya…
“Bas baat kar.”
Ab aur kya kehna tha? Tumne yeh bacha thandi dopahar mein baitha dekha aur chup rahe. Aur ab tum chaahte ho ke main baat karoon? Mazak hai! Tum samajhte ho ke jab usne kachre se kuch uthaya aur mujhe diya, toh main chahta tha ke yeh duniya Indian Ocean mein doob jaye, aur sirf yeh bacha zinda rahe? Lekin main… main bilkul be-dil hoon. Main usse kuch paise dena chahta tha aur chalna chahta tha, lekin nahi chal sakta tha, kyun ke isi waqt ek dusra bacha jo terah ya chaudah saal ka lagta tha, ruk gaya aur usne us bachay se baat ki, jese woh usse janta ho. Maine usse poocha ke yeh bacha kahan rehta hai, aur kuch poochne ke baad, usne ek gali ki taraf ishara ki jo pachaas se saath sau kadam door thi. Majboori mein, usne bacha mere motorcycle par bithaaya, aur aage chal pada.
“Kya hua uske baad?”
Tum kehte ho ke tum samajhte ho, toh qabool karo. Main kuch aur nahi bataunga kyun ke main jaanta hoon ke tum chup rahe ho. Tum bhi jaante ho ke maine usse kuch paise diye, uske ghar chhod diya, aur phir chala gaya. Haan, main chala gaya, aur jab main waapas jaa raha tha, toh minister ke badi mahal ke darwaze par, jo uske ghar se paanch minute ki doori par tha, mein thuka aur uske baad thukne laga jaise hi uss bachi ke ghar ke paas se guzra.
“Toh kya, isliye nafrat tumhare andar uthti rehti hai?”
“Meri nafrat meri mohabbat hai.”
“Kaise?”
“Tum jaante ho, toh kyun pooch rahe ho?”
“Tumhein samajhne ke liye. Tumhari nafrat ki direction sudharne ke liye. Toh batao.”
“Kya bataoon main? Kya dikhayoon tumhe?”
“Jo chaaho, dikhayoon.”
“Thik hai, toh main tumhe apni yaad se ek manzar dikhata hoon jo…”
Aur maine usse ek saat saal ki larki dikhayi, jiski aankhon mein khaali kahani thi, jo utni dardnaak thi ke agar tum sunna chaaho toh sun nahi sakte, aur agar tum na sunna chaaho toh ignore kar nahi sakte. Uske ungliyan tooti hui thi, kalaiyān kaat chuki thi, jabda toota tha, hont phate hue the, naak todhi hui thi, seena ghayalon se bhara tha, aur taangein murh gayi thi, jab usay ganday naale mein uthakar le ja rahe the. Pura duniya usmein doob rahi thi.
[…] One silence a thousand pains […]