18...HAZA MIN FAZL E RABBI

Hello! How do you do? Pretty long since, you have seen me here on this spot. I am sorry! I am late, as usual. Of course.

I do not know why I used to be customarily being late to classes both in the school and in colleges and stand miserably at the door to the classroom with a depressed face similar to a tramp stealthily waiting for his right of entry at a wedding feast. Was always late to the prayer house; just as the mass would close, I would in a hurry, rush into the masjid and would try to settle there crestfallen to every one’s wily look on me. At the weekend party too, when all would be seriously trying to bundle off, I would sail on them as if from a far-off stellar station. Always to discover sadly, nothing left off, neither a drop of beer nor even a morsel on an end course platter to my ravenous hunger inside and added anxiety on my mournful face. I would usually find the host or my other guest friends, already “high’ and unable to take note of my predicament.

 Moreover, at my best girl friend’s wedding too, opportunely I would be in time to get a glimpse of the newlyweds boarding the bedecked car. Nevertheless, by the time, I would happily run gasping and panting (perhaps, you do not know how fat I am, a man mountain!) a few long jumps to say a “Hi! Hi!”, but they would be already gone on a hilarious honeymoon. I would be abnormally late getting up of cozy bed that is what my mom used to say when I was a toddler, and that is true until date. This had been true, in reality, on my first night too and had kept my strategic partner guess awesomely apprehensive about me. Who knows might be she had seen in me a gay, a person into kinky sex, a druggy cheat, or a pimp of the worst kind.

Why is this happening to me? Is a question “Numero Uno”. I am not late by intent.  Nope! I am the last person on earth to keep the friends or foes to wait on me for anything. Forgetfulness, yes, it plays disaster. Days back my mom told me to visit Aneesa, giving a hint that she was bedridden. Aneesa and her family had already shifted to a posh locale. I made a note of it and then had forgotten the entire thing. Finding the note after months while cleaning the drawers of my writing table, I decided to call on the Aneesas. With couple of fruits in hand, I approached their house.

 Aneesa’s mother was on the entrance door and ushered me in, with a unique smile of hers on her face. “Acha hua bête tum aagaye ho, bahuth yad kiya tha bache ne.” she said. I had seated on a sofa where Aneesa was lying close on her bed. “How is this?” I asked Aneesa to which she was giving a detailed account of her poor health. I could hear in the next room Aneesa’s mom laughing wildly then suddenly scolding someone very harshly. She flung the door open all of a sudden yelling “suar jaisi soorath aur Bandar jaisi chal,” this was unheard of her. She was never like this before. She turned to me and asked about the health of my children. I was not married yet, I turned to Aneesa in absolute shock, “Amnesia, that’s it she stopped.

 “You ****ofa***** how dare you plot eloping with my daughter? You have started setting eyes on her money and the wealth she would bring,”..*****! *****!! I had started sweating and I had never expected anything like this in a respected house as theirs. Aneesa’s eyes turned red and wet. Tears rolling she said, I am sorry for her. Please pray for her, she nowadays runs wild roaring now, crying now, and laughing now. “Amnesia?” I asked blinking. “It is abnormal forgetfulness.” Aneesa said. My inside was already sick. Quietly I tried to say “bye bye” in whispers and had walked out of the house. While starting my scooter my eyes caught the glimpse of “HAZA MIN FAZL E RABBI.” In fine Arabic calligraphy on the entrance.