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Changing Colors (standard:romance, 2475 words)
Author: Shamoil AhmadAdded: Feb 06 2012Views/Reads: 2901/2032Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
This is story about a man who does not enjoy the talks of those who talk of religion, sects or communities. He neither understands them nor empathises with them. For him it is more important to remain human and understand human needs and sentiments.
 



Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

buried them in the field...and then planted saplings thereon. 
“Incredible...” He whimpered between his lips. It occurred to Suleiman 
that instead of mitigating his restlessness, it actually exacerbated 
it...once again the image of Sayeeda began to float before his 
eyes...he gulped down yet another long draught of whisky down his 
throat. “Don't know in what state will she be....?” He finished off the 
remaining whisky in one draught and drooped on the arm of the chair, 
closed his eyes and it seemed he whispered something softly. Like 
carrot and radish....Suleiman felt he was being stifled, was gasping 
for breath. Then he rose from the chair, paced the room to and fro for 
a while and then in an impulse picked up a bag, picked up the bottle of 
whisky, took a towel and deposited soap in the bag, locked the flat and 
moved out into the open. He wanted to reach Rukmini's place as early as 
possible. When his searching eyes were trying to locate a rickshaw, he 
sighted one of his neighbours on the other side of the road. Suleiman 
hid behind a tree. He was not keen to come to face to face with him at 
this point of time. But he had sighted Suleiman...when he waved at him, 
Suleiman became a little apprehensive about what he might ask...Coming 
close to him the neighbour told him that there was tension in the town 
and possibilities were distinct that curfew would soon be 
imposed...then espying a bag on Suleiman's shoulder he loudly expressed 
his fears and wondered if it was prudent of him to have moved out at 
this hour.... Then Suleiman told him that he was going to one of his 
friends' where he would be safe and then he jumped into a rickshaw, but 
before rickshaw could move out of his presence, he fired a salvo,” why 
don't you people allow processions to pass...?” Suleiman got wild... he 
could not find an appropriate answer. Intensely worked up, he asked 
rickshaw puller to move and once it had moved some distance away, he 
looked back at him with intense hatred and cursed him through his 
breath..... “Bloody fella....takes me too as one of them....” As he was 
passing through the market place, it actually occurred to him that 
there was tension in the air...shutters were being downed...some people 
gathered at the crossing were whispering into one another's ears...when 
Suleiman's rickshaw went past them one of them was staring at him with 
insidious intent. It occurred to Suleiman that at this point of time he 
was not a human passenger on the rickshaw, rather a religious sect and 
those watching him were actually looking for his religious 
identity....it sent him shivering down the spine...what if riots broke 
out here now...he will surely be killed... he cannot offer any argument 
or logic that he did not have anything to do with religion or sect...he 
cannot deny that he was born into a particular sect or religion...one 
can change one's religion, not one's sect, one's community...religion 
is not man's ordained fate... his community or his sect is, because 
this is determined even before his birth...and it really perturbed him 
no ends that a man has to die simply because he is born into a 
different community sect....into another community.... He needed to 
smoke. He pulled out from his pocket a match box and a packet of 
cigarettes. Took one out of it, held it between his lips and tried to 
light it up. He failed to light it up. The rickshaw was racing away and 
the match stick got extinguished the moment it lit up. Then he moved it 
close to the cigarette held between his lips and rubbed the match stick 
against the its box and at once put it at the edge of the cigarette and 
began to puff in vigorously....the stick got extinguished but the 
cigarette was lit up as he had kept puffing at it. Then he took some 
long puffs, released smoke from his nose as well as from his mouth and 
looked around...there were few pedestrians on the road...rickshaw 
puller asked him as to where he was to be taken...Suleiman asked him to 
take left turn. When it turned left on the unmetalled road, he took the 
last puff on his cigarette....after a while, the rickshaw stood at the 
door of Rukmini's place. After dismounting from the rickshaw, he 
surveyed the area and could not help feeling that there was tension 
even in this area. A few pimps were whispering to one another in a 
corner. On seeing Suleiman there, one of them looked sneeringly and 
burst into laughter. Suleiman did not like his laughter. Looking 
disdainfully at him, Suleiman moved past him. “It's no use going in, 
Sir...” The pimp accosted him. And all of them began to laugh in 
unison. To Suleiman their behavior seemed very strange and disturbing, 
but he did not think it appropriate to say anything. He quietly climbed 
up the steps and as he approached the door, Rukmini stood up stubbornly 
on the door blocking his way in. “Everything okay here....!” Suleiman 
smiled. “Not here...” Rukmini spoke spiritedly. “Where else, 
Darling...?” Suleiman began to laugh. “Go to your own mothers and 
sisters...?” “What the hell...” Suleiman went wild. “Not here...” 
Rukmini whisked her left hand. “I always come to you...” “Look....don't 
do this to me...this is my home...if you drive me away from here, where 
will I go...?” “Go anywhere...” Rukmini spoke with the same degree of 
quirkiness. “What's happened to you...? Curfew is going to be imposed 
on the town...if I am driven out of this place, I will sure get 
killed...” “I don't know anything...” “ Rukmini, Darling...Please...” 
Suleiman began to entreat her for letting him in. “I don't know 
anything...” Rukmini said sharply, standing firm. “What exactly has 
happened to you...what do you want? Do you want rioters to cut me into 
pieces or police shoot me to death...?” “I am helpless...” Rukmini 
stood there in the same manner. “Don't do this to me...I don't go 
anywhere except to your outlet. I feel secure here...I have been 
visiting you for years on...” Rukmini remained silent. Suleiman thought 
she was beginning to relent. He softened his voice still more and 
continued to entreat her to relent. “My good Rukmini darling....please 
let me in...?” Rukmini remained silent for a while and then moved 
aside, making way for him. Suleiman walked in sat down on the cot. But 
he was not feeling the same warmth that he used to find here. He 
listlessly looked around once. In a niche on the wall he noticed a 
small idol of a deity with an incense stick burning. To Suleiman the 
mark of vermillion on the idol appeared to have been freshly put. When 
he tried to take out the whisky bottle from his back, she said, ”there 
is no time...” “Why...?” “Just do your work and go...” Suleiman looked 
at her in amazement. “I don't come to you with this intent...come just 
to talk to ease myself...where else to go...? Who else to talk to...? 
No one talks of human things...” When Rukmini began to undress, he held 
her hand. “Please sit down...let's talk...how can I tell you about the 
enormity of the riot that happened at my home town...even policemen...” 
Rukmini pulled her hand away. “There's no time for talks...” Suleiman 
was hurt. With a wry smile on his face, he said, “have the 
discriminations begun here too...?” “It's the decision of the 
Panchayat...” “What decision...?” Rukmini began to laugh. To Suleiman 
her laugh looked strange. There was exasperation in his voice when he 
said, “Will you speak something...?” “Go to your own flock of 
people...” “Why...” “You are a circumscribed one...” Suleiman was 
stunned. Rukmini was laughing uninterruptedly and it then occurred to 
Suleiman that he was truly a circumscribed one....no matter how 
vehemently he tried to free himself from this thought, the fact of the 
matter was—he was a circumscribed one. And Suleiman's psyche was 
suddenly gripped with a sense of insecurity...he looked at Rukmini with 
his red hot eyes...she continued to laugh in that very manner...and 
Suleiman's heart was filled with grief...then he suddenly turned 
towards her and squeezed his fingers into her arms. Rukmini cried out 
in pain, and then he tightened his grip over her further and squeezed 
his fingers into her arms with great ferocity and she gave out a loud 
painful shriek. It then suddenly occurred to him that Rukmini was not a 
harlot; rather she was a religious sect...he was not cohabiting with 
her...he was raping her...a venomous smile appeared on his lips... And 
after a while when Rukmini had gone to bathroom, he felt he was unable 
to breathe freely. He rose from the bed and organized his disheveled 
dress. Suddenly his eyes fell on Rukmini's sare that lay on the bed 
under pillow. There was a sudden spark in his eyes...bloody 
bitch...calling me the circumscribed one... he hurriedly picked the 
saree and stuffed it into his bag...as he did this, his heart beat 
intensified and beads of sweat emerged on his forehead...then he flung 
the bag on his shoulder and hurriedly climbed down the steps of the 
staircase, crossed over to the other side of the road. For a long 
stretch the road was empty....but by a strange quirk of fate he found a 
rickshaw which he promptly occupied. When rickshaw began to speed up, 
the cool breeze across his perspiring face provided some relief after 
it had covered some distance. He put his hand into his bag to feel the 
presence of sari and whispered slowly...bloody whore...and a mysterious 
smile spread out on his lips... 


   


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