Non-erotic The Scarface I Hated by Trambak

[Ramesh_Rocky]

Kiana suddenly stopped, a little embarrassed. I smiled at her. Reassured, she continued, "Life was difficult but we managed and Imran was born. You know, the name Imran was such an accident. The day our son was born, Imran Khan of Pakistan had broken the stumps of an English player. Indra was a big fan of his and I remember he had said that if the two countries had been one, we would have broken the British back and he named our son Imran. Funny, isn't it?"

Not knowing what to say, I said, "But you are '., aren't you?"

Kiana said, "Yes. That's right. Indra was an outright atheist. I wasn't, but being with him, religion had very little influence on our vision. Indra often said that people were using religion to suppress free expression and I found that to be correct."

Kiana drank some water and offered some to me. Though her descriptions of older days with Indranath were directed at me, it was her who was listening. The story deeply engraved in her heart. Possibly, she had never said these to anyone else, at least not in recent times.

Kiana continued, "Life was difficult. We were an odd couple in social circles. Many looked at us with suspicion and our difference in religion was a matter of importance to everyone except us. Financially we were perennially in difficulty but we never bothered about hardships. There were people in greater adversity than us. Imran grew up and showed bursts of intelligence. He was the cynosure of our eyes but we could not provide him the comforts that he needed. Life was tough for him too."

"When Imran was five years, Indra died. I was only 29 years old. I was devastated but Imran had to be brought up. I wiped my tears for good and got back to work. Our difficulties were multiplied manifolds and I had a tough time. We could not stay at one place for more than two or three years. People started asking questions. college authorities despite initial happiness were soon anxious of my past and happy to see us go. We had a past that was difficult to erase. But, I never deviated because Imran was shaping up to be my strength. I knew Imran would be strong enough to withstand the pressures of life. But my dream crumbled. Imran slipped.

Lifelong, we had hated people who took away things that rightfully belonged to the poor because they had no voice. These people simply succumbed to the powerful and the rich. Imran joined hands with them. He too became a snatcher.

The powerful and the influential was now in my home. He failed and I failed. The vision of Indra failed. I had to leave."

Her pain was unmistakeable and true. I could feel her agony. I had felt similar only a few days back.

"Why am I here, do you know? No one in their right senses would be here except those who have nowhere to go. The people you saw today. They create art in fabric, priceless in the country and in the outside world. The vendors come and buy them at a throwaway price. The rich and wealthy wear them, go to the parties and big functions but those who make it are lying in the abyss. No food, no medicine, no doctor, no college and lastly, no hope. I try to reduce their misery and give them hope. I talk to these businessmen who think that these artisans are cheats. They don't see their naked hungry children. Dr Indranath lives in me through these men and women, in their desolation and gloom. Can I leave them?"

I thought for a moment and said, "No."

Kiana lay down in the bed and turned the other side. I held her hand and asked, "Maa, how did he die?"

She caught my hand and through her sobs said, "He was 32. I lost him to a security officer bullet."

End of Pt 03