Woh Shaam

I wrote this back in March this year. Enjoy reading it!

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Incidences in Fahistan

This dates back to 27th of February 1952 and it happened to be a leap year when Mrs. Singh gave birth to a baby boy who’d grow up to be the protagonist of this story.

The boy was named Rajendra Singh and had a pleasant childhood despite the fact that he was a thin boy who always looked 3-4 years younger than he was. An average student in school who was later pushed by his parents to study in one of the prestigious university of the country and that is when he left his home for the city called Fahistan.

This city of Fahistan was far more developed than any other in the whole country. There were better horse carts in the city and paved roads for them to go around smartly, even the houses were made of bricks and cement. The university attracted brilliant minds from all the places and Rajendra was lucky to get admission there. It was a little difficult for him to adapt to this new style of life where people spoke differently and also ate different kinds of meals but 4 years of his life passed easily.

Now it was time to return home and see what he would do next. From many options he could join his father’s shop and expand the business or he could go and work for someone else and possibly earn more. Little did he know that luck had something else in store for him and that is precisely when the trouble struck and due to a series of events he couldn’t go to his hometown.

One of his acquaintance had called him for an important matter during the last days and on arriving he realized that it would take him months to solve the problem his acquaintance had ventured into. He could have said no and turned his head but that’s not how he was raised. He sent a telegram to his parents in the village and told them that some important matter had come up due to which he won’t be able to come home early and he let them know that he was safe and sound which wasn’t completely true.

Two months had passed but the rounds to the police station and court didn’t decrease, they even contacted some influential people in the city of Fahistan but no one helped. Left to their own, Rajendra and Shamshad fought for themselves or say Rajendra and Shamshad fought for Shamshad.

After 4 months, it looked like they might win the case and go their ways happily but something had to happen again. One night both of them were returning from the small hotel, two men on motorcycle came to them asking for an address when the pillion rider took out a gun and shot Shamshad in the chest. They sped away while Rajendra stood there too shocked to react and when he looked down he realized that Shamshad had died and was in the pool of blood. As he leaned in to shake Shamshad, he saw his reflection in his eyes which still held some life.

Rajendra couldn’t stay in the city of Fahistan any longer and soon returned to his hometown. He joined his father’s business and tried hard to forget what happened to Shamshad. But he never could.

 

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The farewell 

​It was late at night and the room was too humid, I thought it would be better to go out on the small balcony for a while. I went out and saw pigeons resting on the cables that went through one side to the another and then naturally I saw up and then towards the street. 

There was a car parked on the turn, it was a taxi must have been Ola or Uber because they are very famous now. 
There was a man loading his suitcases onto the back seat of the car while two females, a small kid and a man waited for him. He turns around after placing the suitcases and shakes hands with the man and hugs him, then turns towards the little girl and talks to her, she I think was his little sister. Then he turns towards the lady and shakes her hand and hugs the one who is older, my guess was that he hugged his mother. This all happened within five minutes and then another car came to the corner, thankfully the driver of the new car wasn’t in a hurry and waited for them. He said the final goodbye, opened the front door of the car and went away. 

The family stood there for a while, staring at the car before finally turning and walking away, I watched them go and I watched them saying bye. 

Then what happened? I turned around and walked back into my humid room. 

These are the stories I write for myself, they come from the things I observe. Let me know what are your views on them. I’d be happy to have a conversation on the similar lines. Thanks for reading 🙂 

Can’t teach

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I haven’t written for a long time. A little note I wrote which might make sense. The key word here is might. Anyway let me know. And I hope you all have been great, let me know.

Duty Calls- Short story Part 1

This morning he was sitting in his jeep outside the government hospital. He had parked under a tree beside the gate, a few steps away from the bus stop where in every 5 minutes a bus came and a hoard deboarded the bus. A few went into the hospital while others rushed towards the metro station, he saw all those people but did not focus on anyone particular. He was just seeing a group of people moving from one place to another, in the distance, an auto waited for the customers in front of the gate. He thought how he is to stand right there, wondering what would happen if an ambulance was to come, or someone who had a heart attack was rushed in through the gate. He sure was unaware that he could be the reason of someone’s death and the worst part was he might not realize that and would do the same thing again.

He knew that he was losing his focus and was instead looking at people, complete strangers, auto-wallahs who came and stopped and looked for customers followed by a bus. He looked in the rearview mirror of his jeep and saw his sweaty and a tired face, then he looked at his uniform which he didn’t get time to change for three days because this investigation was sure a different and a difficult one. He looked around, checked his dying phone and decided to step out of the car and stretch and have a cup of tea. He thought he deserved a cup now, at least.

He locked the jeep and walked and told the auto-wallah to move and not obstruct the gate. He ordered tea and a cigarette, asked for a Gold Flake and lit it, a few puffs and he realized that this was stupid of him, to smoke near the hospital. Before throwing it, he took one long puff and held the smoke in while his lungs burned. He threw and squashed the cigarette under his brown shiny shoes, he wondered how come his shoes were still so clean. He had taken a few sips when he got a call on his phone, he took the call and got to know that the suspect has left the hospital and entered the metro station. He was also asked if he saw him, he took a gulp and said ‘I think I did’, he had to lie.

He threw a fifty rupee note at the chai-wallah and ran towards the metro station. At entering the stations, he saw a long queue and started wondering that the suspect could be anywhere, he could have already boarded a train. He felt useless and irritated but tried to take control of the situation by taking deep breaths. He had heard somewhere that it helped in situations like these.

He came back to the jeep and took three long breaths before finally calling his senior on the phone and telling him that he lost him in the crowd. He turned the key and the engine came to life but he stepped out of the car and went to chai-wallah and asked him for the change before finally leaving to the police station.


Note: I might write a second part of this with a different perspective very soon. Let me know your views about this. Thanks!

Last pages

The last 50 pages
A hot summer night
And a thought of you.
-Jafar Rehman

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P.S. ‘You’ here can be food.

Metro Morning

I wanted to post here for a long time and for once if you have read some of my previous posts, you would want to shoot me right now. Why? Because I say the same darn thing all the time. I know that is old and I need a new statement to support my absence here *completely ignoring the fact that nobody really cares*

So, today I can talk about my day, because that usually gives me something to talk and write about and you for once get to know about a day in my life. No I am not telling you everything about my day but only a thing or two. I will choose the interesting part or will try and make it interesting. That works? I am talking to myself, yes!

I will talk about the metro rides to work. In the morning as I wait for the metro to arrive, I walk from one point to another and then I take a glance at my watch and I repeat the same thing. I observe people exiting other trains, getting down from stairs, some are in rush while some are literally pushing themselves to move. If you see things in a different manner, they start appearing either funny or you start seeing everyone as an individual( if you are watching people). Now you might be thinking, that’s nonsense. How can I see them as individuals, aren’t they individuals already? But you didn’t see them that way, I didn’t at least. They were just a bunch of people, a blob moving from point A to B or from A to C.

But as I was waiting for my metro to come, I saw each person and studied them. The expressions on their faces, their face reflecting lack of sleep, lack of will to go to work, some smiled and that too genuinely while some rushed because they were late and would probably be getting a lecture from their seniors. Oh well, there is so much variety.

Then my metro came and I got in after calculating what coach would have some free space so that I could take my book out which was The Book Theif and read it. I did get a place and I read my book. Good journey? Yes!

 

Tell me

Tell me
What happens when
You stick a knife
Into a man’s stomach
And he spurts blood
From his mouth
And then as life leaves him
He grabs your collar
And looks you in the eyes
With a pleading look
And questions you
Without a sound.

Do you for once
feel sad?
Were you at unease
When his soul
Questioned you
And you just stared
Into those dark pits
Which by the way
Had no tears
But only questions
And then you waited
For the light to go away
So that you could
Make a final call
And spurt the words
Job done
Would you ever think about
Those eyes
When they were
In their final moments?

-Jafar Rehman


So, I have started to write whatever I get, be it dark poetry or anything else. Tell me if you liked it.

Outside the window

 

 

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I was looking out the window and this is what it looked like. The auto-rickshaws, cars and buses passed by and I looked at all of them. I looked at the bus that went towards the capital of India and saw several faces sitting inside the bus, some were tired and sleepy, some looked out of their windows eagerly and tried to capture the details of the small city called Moradabad and some were actually sleeping and had no interest in the view outside the vehicle.

It was a matter of 30-40 minutes and the clock showed time as 11 in the night and the sound of announcements of railway station started getting more clearer and I could hear the lady announcing that a particular train will be arriving at the station on No. 2 platform in 10 minutes and the train on No. 3 platform was about to leave. By now the street was completely empty and I turned around and closed the window and sat on the sofa and breathed the humid air of the hotel room. It was time to sleep.

As the smoke rose up

I think I could have done a better job if I had my camera with me but anyway I like this photograph I took. Looks like a scene from some movie, where a bad guy is standing at a train signal and waits for the train to pass. As he waits, he is smoking a cigarette or a cigar as I like to imagine. Tell me if this photograph triggers a story in your head as well. Now I could write a story on it and it would go like this-

He had committed a heinous crime and after that he rose up from the ground and kicked the body and grabbed the curtain to clean his hand. After cleaning his hands and removing the blood, he took his phone out and called someone and said, “I am coming out.”

He came out and found his friend waiting with a motorbike and they both nodded their head. He then took the motorbike from his partner and drove it away from the town and arrived at a railway crossing. As he waited for the train to pass, he took out a cigarette and lit it, hoping that it would take some of his headache away.

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I hope you liked what I wrote. It would be great if you could avoid looking at the mistakes if I made some. Let me know your views. 🙂