Budshah could say nothing. It was really foolproof. He continued to stare at the girls standing in front of him. He did not know how to get out of it all, his own plight seemed so wretched to him. The Madam was beginning to get impatient with him and so were the girls. They had begun whispering among themselves and then there was a thud at the door. Without waiting for the response, the intruders barged in. They were ten in number and all were in uniform, the soldiers of the Islamic Republic. One of them, perhaps their senior caught hold of Madam’s plaited hair. “You old bitch, what is going on here?” Madam had seen the likes of him before. Unruffled, she replied, “Come son, do not maltreat your mother.” The man gave a twist to her hair. Madam writhed in pain but blurted out, “You dog what do you want?”
“Ah, that is better,” said the soldier, “I am taking all your daughters’ (pointing to the terrified girls), the sahibs have a party.”
“Ok! Leave my hair. How much do you pay?”
“Not a penny, you old sow.” He released her.
“That is unfair, soldiers are kind.”
“Do not flatter me, you fatso. Just pack them in the vehicle and go to sleep.” Then as if noticing Budshah for the first time he turned to him and said,“Go to sleep with your pimp.”
The soldiers then caught hold of the girls; no one protested. They followed their captors as silent lambs. Madam continued to plead with them for the charges. As the party moved out, Budshah was left alone, standing there in the middle of the room. After a while the soldiers drew away carrying their birds of prey and madam returned to Budshah. As she came close to him, she unbuttoned her shirt and exposing her large fat breast and holding it out to him said, “Won’t this fetch me even a simple meal?”
They had a couple of drinks in the nearby pub. From there they walked hand in hand to Ajab Malik’s apartment. Once inside, Ajab seated the girl in front of him and looking deep into her eyes began, “Look, I am Ajab Malik and you, you are my…”
“I am your girl friend for the night. My name is Angela. No complications. Is that clear?”
“I am your Ajab. We loved each other. We were separated. We lived in Kashmir.”
The girl laughed. Ajab watched her, completely at a loss for words. At last she said, “Come on man. I never went out of Germany. I wanted to but no money to visit places. I was born here in Berlin. I don’t know what you are talking about.”
He tried for a long time to convince her that she was his long lost love. The girl listened to him patiently and at the end said, “Look here, either you are crazy or there was a girl out there at your place who resembled me. That is all. Come on. Don’t spoil the fun. You are a stranger to this place. Get ready, I will take you to all the places.” Ajab had to reconcile to the situation. He had intentionally kept out the bird story while pleading with the girl. But now alone in his bathroom where he had gone to change, he began to think. Could it be that the bird collector had set her free and she had somehow regained her human form but not her past, her memory? Ajab continued to think. His chain of thoughts was finally broken by Angela’s knock at the bathroom door, “Come on man, do you intend to sleep there?” He came out and after a while both set out on their journey to Berlin’s nightlife.
She was his guide and Ajab handed himself over to her. She decided that it was time for dinner. They entered a restaurant and she ordered for both of them. They hurried through the dinner and then left the place. Out in the open she said,“There is a place. It is called the Underground. We will now go there. You can enjoy yourself thoroughly. Everything is there. How about Hashish? Do you like it?” she enquired. Ajab Malik said nothing. They walked on and finally reached the place. It was really underground. They had to descend twenty-five to thirty steps and then move through a long winding subway, at the end of which stood the Underground World. There was practically everything there—hasish joint, drug parlours, bars, and of course the sex den. At the hashish joint they saw young and old Gemans smoking hashish from beautiful pipes. Some having oversmoked lay prostrate on the ground. Others stood quite calm while yet others talked incessantly among themselves. Angela could not resist the temptation to draw at the pipe. She freed her hand from Ajab Malik’s and went for it. He tried to dissuade her but before he could do anything she was drawing frantically on the pipe that a young man held out to her. After a few puffs she slumped down into the lap of the young man.
Ajab watched in horror. An old German with a stoop materialized in front of him. “Son, take heed, the allies are coming. They are knocking at Berlin’s doors. Where is the Fuerher? Do not worry the Fuerher is there. As long as he is there, glory is to the German Reich. We will overcome. Do not worry, do not worry.” Ajab gave him a patient hearing. Suddenly, the German seemed in no mood to talk. He fell silent, closed his eyes and remained still. Ajab moved on. The rising smoke from all around got into his lungs. His eyes watered. His sight blurred and he was unable to seep roperly. He searched for Noshlab. Where was she? There were dozens of girls and boys lying on the ground, their bodies entwined, flesh intermingled. Who was Noshlab amongst them? How could he separate her from the heap even if he located her? A disgusted Ajab Malik moved on.
There were four chairs around a small table. Three men sat in them while one chair lay empty. The men looked very old, with shining long hair and beards. All three wore black robes. They seemed to be debating some important point. As Ajab appeared they saw him. They fell silent and one of thembeckoned to him to take the empty chair. Ajab was mesmerized into acceptance. He moved to the chair and sat obediently awaiting the next command. The man who sat on his right patted his shoulder and said, “Young man! Ah young man! Youth, yes youth. Superman’s youth is eternal. Yes. He will not age with time. He will emerge on the horizon and control the entire world.” The man next to him intervened. Lifting his right hand and pointing directly at Ajab, he said, “This young man. Do you see this young man?” he enquired from the person on his left. He nodded his head. Then he asked the man sitting on his right. He too nodded his head. Then he gave a satirical laugh. “The young man who sits there and the young man you two see does not exist.” Both the men turned to him in disbelief. The man continued, “Yes he does not exist because you do not exist. I do not exist. Existence is a mere doubt.”
Ajab Malik was beginning to get frightened. He was probably in the company of men not quite in their right minds. He made a slight movement to get up. The gentlemen sitting on his left placed his hand on his thigh and said, “Rational theory demands that I ask you a set of questions. You will answer them; then I will analyze them. We may have to take help from a physicist, a chemist, a biologist, an anthropologist, a dentist, a psychoanalyst and so on and so forth.” The other two gentlemen gave a measured laugh. The man looked at them with contempt and said, “You don’t forget that the Feurher considers me as his teacher and out of your entire lot he only adores Clausewitz.” The two gentlemen lowered their heads. He turned his attention to Ajab and said, “Are you ready? Who are you?”
“I am Ajab Malik.”
“Which kingdom?”
“Kingdom? What do you mean?”
“Plant kingdom or the animal kingdom?”
“Oh! The animal kingdom.”
“Order? Class? Species?”
The man was filling answers into a sheet of paper in front of him. When the questioning was complete, the gentleman studied the paper with great interest. He went on studying it. Then he got up and walked to a nearby cupboard, opened it and brought out old worn out books and placed them on the table. He sat down and went through the books, one by one, reading and throwing an occasional glance in Ajab Malik’s direction. Then he closed his books, stood up and holding the paper in his hand said to Ajab, “I have identified your type but how do you surface here? You are already extinct.” Ajab was startled. He got to his feet and was about to move when the old man said, “I sympathize with you, but your struggle for existence has ended; you were not the fittest, you go and enter a fossil and don’t disturb anything.”
Ajab Malik walked away from there. He was really sorry for having been there. It was a place for nuts, he thought as he came to the end of another corridor and moved into another chamber.
Budshah could say nothing. It was really foolproof. He continued to stare at the girls standing in front of him. He did not know how to get out of it all, his own plight seemed so wretched to him. The Madam was beginning to get impatient with him and so were the girls. They had begun whispering among themselves and then there was a thud at the door. Without waiting for the response, the intruders barged in. They were ten in number and all were in uniform, the soldiers of the Islamic Republic. One of them, perhaps their senior caught hold of Madam’s plaited hair. “You old bitch, what is going on here?” Madam had seen the likes of him before. Unruffled, she replied, “Come son, do not maltreat your mother.” The man gave a twist to her hair. Madam writhed in pain but blurted out, “You dog what do you want?”
“Ah, that is better,” said the soldier, “I am taking all your daughters’ (pointing to the terrified girls), the sahibs have a party.”
“Ok! Leave my hair. How much do you pay?”
“Not a penny, you old sow.” He released her.
“That is unfair, soldiers are kind.”
“Do not flatter me, you fatso. Just pack them in the vehicle and go to sleep.” Then as if noticing Budshah for the first time he turned to him and said,“Go to sleep with your pimp.”
An excerpt from Ayaz Rasool Nazki’s book SATISAR, THE VALLEY OF DEMONS published by Vitasta Publishing and the book is available on www.vitastapublishing.com
