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Changing Colors (standard:romance, 2475 words) | |||
Author: Shamoil Ahmad | Added: Feb 06 2012 | Views/Reads: 2901/2032 | Story 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... Tweet
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