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Haani Comes To Explain It


Ehsan Elahi Ehsan

At ten p.m. last night when I reached my room, there was perfect silence. My family members were sleeping in the other room. When my day’s work is over in the Iqra Quaid Academy in the evening, I daily visit my son and daughter-in-law, the grand daughter Noor-ul-Huda and grandson Mohummad Ali Abdullah aged three and a half and two years respectively. In my room, I have an ever present companion, my computer which is lying to the left side of my bed. I immediately open it and connect it to my favourite web site "Writers’ where I find a world of writers, poets, novelists, dramatists, short story writers and many more. My choiced field is poetry and short story and the favourite page ‘Most Recently Posted’ and ‘Feed Back Forum." I open the one and the other alternatively. There are the devoted person like Clive, Harry and Linda who are providing a great service to literature and humanity. I enjoy there company by every means I can find at that time. I really feel their presence with me. After this mental and spiritual excursion, I take my clay pipe and enjoy its gur, gur (the sound of the clay pipe). Last nigh I was a bit tired and wanted to go to bed after smoking my clay pipe. When I was smoking it, I felt sleepy and began to doze.

There is another great personality which frequently visits me and provides me company at this time and speaks to me on different topics of life and literature. This is Haani. The strange thing with Haani is that he comes to me when I am detached with the wakeful world. When I come out of trance and remember Haani and his discussions, I feel fresh, sit on my computer to visit different litrary Websites or begin to write some thing for which I have an urge to write at that time.

I remember before dozing, that Harry’s and dkkneip comments on my short story "A Sojourn to Another Marriage’ were in my mind. I was thinking on my story and on their comments, when Haani broke the silence. He asked me what was the matter. I told him what I could. I place the proposition of the absence of emotions in my story as Harry and kdneip had pointed out. He smiled and made me a bit annoyed. But he is a generous man and does not mind my awkward reactions. He said to me that as a reader, he could understand and even explain the significant points in the story but he would not do so because it would make a narrative. He asked my permission for sometime as he wanted to go for some urgent mission. I looked to him curiously and nodded. All of a sudden he disappeared from there leaving me alone to wait for his return. When he came back, he told me that he had gone to see Ramazan’s mother who was the basic cause of what happened to Ramazan and the other members of the family. When he approached her she was all alone in the room sitting in the dim light. " Now you have come to disturb me further’ she immediately spoke to me. " I knew why have you come here. I tell you each and every thing you want to know", she said. " I don’t know exactly whether it is a physical or mental disease or just a lust. but when I am in hot passions, I become bewildered. This is what have been happening to me for many years. I was not physically satisfied with my husband. It as just a chance or the writing of my fate, I don’t know exactly, she said, ‘but it happened so that Bakhsh and Noor, the two truck drivers driving the same truck alternatively, one day visited us. They were the acquaintances of my husband . Both were near about thirty years but very healthy and strong. When they visited us, I was attracted to them, not for any love, but only for their bodily charm and attraction. Both of them seemed to take interest in me." She was bursting with tears. " I was inwardly very happy to come across them. We all, including my husband took supper and chatted for some time. My son Ramazan, was not at home. He had gone to visit some friend. My daughters whom I have left now, God knows in what condition they would be, were not yet born. Bakhsh and Noor, Noor and Bakhsh, began to occupy my mind. I was drawn to them. They really fascinated me. My husband had to go out to the shop to bring cigarettes for them. We had some free moments. Bakhsh winked at me and I responded. Our relation started. They gave me their address if any need be. I began to visit them frequently when my husband was not at home and Ramazan was at school. I did not make any difference between Bakhsh and Noor. I enjoyed the company of both of them who ever was available. I began to feel boredom of my husband and wished to be with Bakhsh for ever. One day when I visited Bakhsh, he offered me to marry. I told him how was it possible because I was already married. "Leave it to me," said Bakhsh. Inwardly I was happy on this offer. We agreed to marry. Noor did not know all this because he was concerned mainly with his own bodily pleasures with me. Bakhsh said to me that I should be ready for marriage. He gave me even the date of our marriage. I was puzzled but not unhappy.

Then one day, when my husband did not come back home at the usual time, I was disturbed a little. At ten in the night, some body came to us and told that my husband had met an accident with a truck. He was taken to the hospital and succumbed to his injureis. I was asked to take his dead body. The truck driver, the man told me, had run away from the site of the accident. We took the dead body and came home in the village.

During the mourning days, Bakhsh and Noor visited me and Bakhsh, in the absence of Noor, who had gone to toilet, told me that on such a such day be would be coming and staying outside the village. He wanted me to marry him the next day of the appointed day". She was now sobbing. ‘So, I arranged, the marriage of Ramazan because I knew it would not be possible for him to go on his work and to look after his little sisters at the same time. So, in such circumstances, I had to leave Ramazan, his wife and the two little daughters. I wavered a while on the poroposal of Bakhsh because the miserable condition of my children was before my eyes but when I remembered the experiences with Bakhsh, I decided to go with him. And now, I am here in Bakhsh house. Bakhsh and Noor still work on the same truck, in Lahore They belong to the same village and are cousins and neighbours as I came to know after coming here. They know the secrets of each other. Even now when I have the opportunity, I do not hesitate to enjoy the company of Noor. Oh! If I could help myself and prevent myself from this flirtation." She paused. It seemed she had no words to express herself. Leaving in her lonely and darkish room, I have come back to you. Haani said. I felt a jerk at this, and was going to fall down the bed. With this jerk, my eyes opened. There was no Haani with me. He had already slipped away, where, God knows. It took me half an hour to differentiate between the reality and the dream.

I started my computer. Lind was there with her comments on Dr. Riaz Ahmed Raja’s poem. I tried to forget what I had exprienced feelingly but could not. I moved to my short story ‘A Sojourn to Another Marriage" I felt that Ramazan or the readers were now not so curious on the mysterious death of Ramazan’s father. They also came to know who were the strangers who visited Ramazan’s father’s mourning and how Rani, Ramazan’s mother left the house.

I tried to continue the work on the computer but sleep prevailed on me. I closed it and sat on the bed with my clay pipe before me. I ignited the tobacco and began to smoke. My clay pipe was making a ryhthmic "gur gur" sound.. Soon I was again dozing. This time Haani had brought Ramazan with him. Ramazan was as gloomy as ever. Haani, said to me, "Ramazan had come with him to solve the mystry of his death. "Yes", I said and looked at Ramazan. He was still very sad having the same sad face as he was at the mourning of his father. It seemed, his spirit was not finding rest. He still seemed very curious about the human nature. What a person could do and how many lives could he destroy only for the sake of his lust. He seemed to say. "Yes Ramazan, how did you meet the accident’ " I…" Ramazan was again silent. It seemed it was not possible for him to translate his agony in words, "yes" I said to make him speak. " I took the shock of my father’s death to my heart’, he started yet I tried to adjust because the burden of earning bread for the family was on my shoulder. However, it always kept on lurking in my mind that there was some hand of my mother in the murder of my father. But the relationship of mother and the problems coming out of my curiosity were so immense that I accepted my father’s death as the writing of fate. I could not however, come out of the shock given by my mother. My doubts had been proved right. I had no other logical answer before me except that my mother had got this done only for her lust. The pointing fingers of the villagers and their taunting and slighting words were apart. I was disgraced before my own eyes, before the eyes of my wife and the little sister. I found an escape of coming back home late at night and going at the earliest hours in the morning to my work. I was overworked but I wanted to keep my self as busy as I could to avoid the company of the gazing people. I was going to Chakwal from Choa Saiden Shah that night when I began to doze. I tried to shake off the sleep two times and kept on driving. I was all alone in the wagon because there were no fares that time and I wanted to collect the fares from Chakwal city at the earliest in the morning. I remember only that for the last time, seeing my mother celebrating with her new husband, when my eyes were opened, my wagon had struck against the stem of a big tree. I became senseless after that and I don’t know what happened next.

O’ my God, I was again dozing. When I opened my eyes, Ramazan or Haani were not there. But a sadness was prevailing over me. I remembered Harry’s and kdneip’s remarks that the story "A Sojourn to Another Marriage’ did not have emotions and that it was very gloomy and bleak. I wanted to come out of this sad mood. It seemed I had no sleep in my eyes now. I came to my computer again and switched it on. I opened the site "Writers Voice" and ‘ The Most Recently Posted" page, there was nothing new. My story stood at the top of the page and with the same status qua the page was looking at me. I went to the "Feed Back Forum" but did not find the situation different. Clive was still not there in the respective column. Nothing had changed since a week. Perhaps the site had also become gloomy and bleak by the mood of the story. I looked to the watch. It was four in the morning. The whole night had passed. "It is no use sleeping now. I have to go to Iqra Quaid Academy at six to teach. So I got up to take a bath and prepare for the days work.

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