FEAR OF ALLAH

A SHORT STORY
 BY SHAKILA RAFIQ

Urdu short story, Khuda KaKhauf, translated  By ANWAR ENAYETULLAH

 
Eid festivities were not far away and th(rush nt Bari's tailoring shop was an evidence that all the worker; were knee-deep in  work

During recent years, Shakila Rafique has emerged as an impressive short story writer bestowed with the talent of weaving tales around events^which often people consider to be trivial. Her sensitive mind and sharp eyes rarely miss the day to day events around her. That is how she paints the realistic pictures on her canvas. Fear of Allah (original title "Khuda Ka Khauf") is a poignant satire on contemporary society in which sympathetic feelings for the underdog are steadily becoming rare.


Traditionally kites are supposed to lay eggs at midday when the sun is right IBliroiilMBBSra over y0""" head. But 1 am sure they laid eggs even at five o'clock that afternoon for it was scorchingly hot that day. As if to punish me for venturing outdoors, gusts of fiery winds hit me, and my throat was dry. To be precise, it was the peak of a summer afternoon.
Taking long strides, I walked briskly and reached Barkat Churiwalay's shop. As his name indicated, he sold colorful bangles which Hyderabad is famous for.
"Be quick. . . a glass of cold soft drink," I ordered wiping perspiration from my face with my handkerchief which had lost its original color due to constant rubbing. It looked dirty.
Having walked briskly in the sun, my neck and back were wet with perspiration. Barkat obeyed quickly and brought a cold glass of my favorite drink.
If you are a resident of Hyderabad Sindh or have at least seen its Shahi Bazaar, then I am sure you will also be familiar with Resham Gali which literarily means silk lane. It is a long narrow lane. You can consider it a trailer of Shahi Bazaar. There are rows and rows of small shops on both sides, one of the shops belongs to Barkat Churiwalay's. During summer, in addition to selling bangles, he also sold mango-flavoured milk shake.
Bari's shop is on the other side of the lane. He is a tailor. From morning till late evening, people of all ages crowd his shop. His workers are also of. all ages. With lowered eyes they sew furiously on their machines. Among them were some teenagers, who looked after work which did not involve intricate sewing.
Since Rcsham Gali is close to where my office is, in summer I would go there almost daily. The advantage was that I could sit comfortably in Barkat's shop while sipping the cool, refreshing milk shake and I could also feast my eyes on the young and attractive faces who came looking for bangles. That is how I enjoyed a double programme, a real feast in only one ticket!
It was a treat for young bachelors like me to spend their evenings in the market which overflowed with healthy young attractive damsels offerings pleasure to eyes and a soothing satisfaction to one's feelings.
There was a young boy who worked for Bari. He was the tailor master whom I observed with interest. His name was Haider but commonly addressed as Haideray. This lad was about 13 or 14,with small eyes. He was tall, lean and thin. Inspite of being hollow-cheeked, with his oval face, he looked cute. Wit! his head bowed and eyes lowered he was always engrossed in his work. 'Hemming ladies' blouses or stitching buttons or shins. Other young boys of his age were not that serious in their work.
Usually they were frolicsome anu would rest or sneak away quietly to the bazaar to while away time But unlike them, Haider worked like a machine with seriousness and responsibility that he often looked older than he was.
During the past few months I observed Haider so closely that I felt as if he was more a part of Barkat's establishment than Bari's.
Sometime back it so happened that as usual 1 was at Barkat's shop where besides bangles, my favourite milk shake was also available. Eid festivities were not far away and the rush at Bari's tailoring shop was an evidence that all the workers were knee deep in work.
After ordering milk-shake I settled down on a chair and casually glanced towards Bari's shop. When the cold drink arrived, I quickly took a sip. Just then I heard Haider.
"It's a matter of only two days masterji ! I promise 1 will come back on the third day," he begged. He sounded so pathetic that his meek and humble tone somehow stuck in my throat like cold draught. With great difficulty 1 pushed it down my throat, turned; and glanced tovrards Haider.
"Abey / Are you out of your mind?" Can't you sec,how much we have to do before Eid ? What a time to ask for leave when the festival is just round the corner. Even a couple of minutes is out of question and you are talking about two full days ? Don't waste your time and go back to work ..'. immediately," his boss thundered.
"I know masterji", Haider continued to beg meekly. "But it's for my mother. . . she is seriously ill masterji . . . Piease."
"So it's your mother, is it ?" Bari interrupted. "Abay ! Whom are you trying to hoodwink ? Damn you . . .
Another word and I will thrash you so much that your mother will immediately recover.-. . don't stare at me. . . I know all these excuses. Listening to his selfish employer, Haider's face lost colour and at once he replied incisively.
 

"Did I ever try to evade work master ji ?" He asked after a little while looking hurt. "I am really sorry." His tone was sharp ... so trenchent that suddenly Bari turned his head and looked at him closely. Perhaps he did not expect that tone from a young and meek employee.
From the expression on his face it was obvious that he did not approve of the boy's attitude. I thought he would rebuke him but then he changed his mind, suppressed his wrath perhaps reaizing Haider's importance and the rush of work during this festive season. Slowly he moved closer to the boy, placed his hand gently on his shoulder and said softly.
"You are right Haideray ! But look at the load of work on me, my boy !
Everything has to be ready before Eid. Who else is here to help me except you?
No one else Haideray, no one else. If I don't deliver the orders in time, people would lynch me son. Be reasonable.
Try to understand and don't bother me now. I promise I will give you one whole week's leave after Eid. But for God's sake son, not now . . . after Eid." His soft tone and flattery did the trick and Haider went back to work with his head bowed as if he had decided to reconcile with the situation. He took a deep sigh, picked up a kameez and began to hem.
After that incident, I watched a similar scenario several times. It was enacted in Bari's shop at .all hours.
Haider would request for leave and Bari would reject it more or less in the same clever manner. The same dialogue was repeated and the result was always From the expression on his face it was obvious that he did
not approve of the boy's attitude. 1 thought he would rebuke him but i then he changed his mind, suppressed his
wrath, perhaps realizing Haider's importance. the same. Sometimes Bari would reprimand the lad. On other occasions, he would try to bring him round lovingly, using lots of tact.
Time continued to move towards the festivities of Eid which weren't more than five to six days away. By then I had become interested in the lad so much that I felt I was interested in the festival more than Haider because after Eid Haider would definitely get leave to stay home and look after his ailing mother, to nurse her back to recovery.
The situation appeared so pathetic to me that during the past few days, I had even prayed several times in silence for the moon to appear on the 29th of Ramazan so that Haideray would get an extra day of leave.
My sympathy for him often intrigued me, for he was not my friend, but just an acquaintance. Could it be that during the past few days I had seen such pain and helplessness in his grief stricken eyes that I felt as if his sufferings knew no bounds, as though they were hurting me too.
Let me go back to the beginning of this story. I was narrating how in that scorching heat I had walked all the way from my office to Barkat Churiwalay's shop. My dirty handkerchief soaked in my perspiration was now lying at my feet for I had just then decided to discard it. Did it still have capacity to absorb dust ? I wondered.
In the mean time, Barkat had already offered me my second glass of milkshake and he was back on his seat selling bangles to young women. Leisurely I took a sip, my eyes lingering on a charming young girl whose soft and fair hand was in the grip of Barkat's dark and rough hands who was now trying to slide colourful bangles over her wrist,towards her plump arm. He was pressing her hand so that the bangles could slip into proper position. The whole sight sent a wave of depression in me evolving a sense of deprivation. What was depressing was that the girl seemed to be enjoying the process, while looking at the bangles admiringly.
I sighed and took another sip when all of a sudden I heard a commotion in Bari's shop, I turned my head ,to find out what was happening. The shop's shutters were being brought down as if the shop was being closed. I was surprised to observe that Bari himself was closing the shop and all his workers were leaving. Intrigued I got up, stopped one of the boys who worked for Bari.
"What happened. . . Why are you closing the shop ?" 1 asked. With his eyes glued to the glass of milk shake which was Still in my hand the boy replied hesitantingly.
"Wohfi. . . Do you remember Haideray, the boy who worked with us ?"
"Yes. . . yes, what happened to him ?" I interrupted immediately.
"Is he alright ?" I asked quickly with concern.
"Yes Babuji he is alright. But it's his mother. She died. The boy replied sadly. "That's why masterji has closed the shop."
At that point tailor master Bari also appeared on'the scene. Seeing him the lad withdrew quickly and left us.
I turned to Bari and asked. "When did she die masterji ? I mean Haideray's mother."
"This morning sahebhi. . . Poor woman . . . She is dead now. That is why I have closed the shop to express my sorrow." Clicking he replied and shook his head as if he was really very sorry.
"But masterji ; Eid is round the corner. . . Heaps of clothes to be stitched. . ' there, must be a great pressure. How can you afford to close down your business and allow your workers to go home ?"
Disgusted, I asked dryly. Bari listened to me wide-eyed as if there couldn't be a more inhuman and heartless brute than me, in the entire universe. Then after a slight pause, he touched his ears in the manner all God fearing people do. Then turning to Barkat, he said.
"Sahebji may be right. . . But Bhai, one should fear the wrath of Allah . . .Poor Haideray's mother is lying dead.
How can 1 keep my shop open ? This will be wrong Bhai ! Tyrannical . .
outrageous/;'/"