Losing My Soulmate – 7

This memoir starts from  The Flight From Casablanca.  Thank you.

Let me tell you another deep secret of my Father.

The whole world believes that Satan is a rebellious angel and an enemy of God.

Wrong.

Were he a rebellious angel, he would have plans of his own.

But he got none.

He just tells each man his best interest.

It’s something like this.

God asked women to give birth to children and to nurture them.

Now a woman would give anything to become a mother and will sacrifice everything to care for her baby and even nurse it milk from her blood.

But when God asked men to earn a living for the woman so that she could produce children and nurture them in peace, men rebelled.

We refused to bow to women. We said “We’ll ask women and even force them to bow to us, to serve us and we shall rule over them.”

Women love and like to serve. They are angels created in the image of God. While we hate and like to rule. We are the devil created in the image of apes.

God saw that it was very good.

He doesn’t like half-hearted gifts nor such repentance.

He picked an angel and said “You’ll teach men every evil that I hate.”

He gave Satan all power & authority to do his job.

And Satan has been doing a perfect job since some 6000 years, teaching us, men, every evil and helping us fight & rebel till the end.

We know the heaven & earth were created by God.

What we fail to see is that if God has created this world, then surely it’s He who is running it.

Hence, when a thief steals, he thinks that he has profited.

Wrong.

God has forbidden covetness and theft. Therefore, theft is a trade in loss.

But since it’s impossible for us to understand the wisdom of God, we see them as a folly.

Read GOD’S UTILITY FUNCTION by Richard Dawkins to see how wisemen arrive at the conclusion that there is no God.

It’s excellent but… wrong, nevertheless.

So my evil brother were united against me. But they weren’t actually united. Each worked for his own selfish interest.

Hence, when I arrived to the Deportation Center in The Old Airport and was told about the Bengali sweeper who used to charge 10 Rials for making local calls for people about to be deported, I decided to tell Hamid so that he’d at least arrange some clothes and money for me.

I told the Sweeper I had no money on me but if he called my brother, he’d even give him 50 Rials, which was true of Hamid, who had a secret reason to make sure I wasn’t going to be deported to Pakistan at any cost.

But when that Bengali returned next day, he was very angry and won’t talk to me.

I waited silently until he finished with all the clients. Then I asked him politely about what had happened that made him so mad at me.

“I did call that number but your brother shouted at me, told me no man with that name lived there and asked me not to call that number again,” he said.

That was strange. I thought it must have been Zakir who got a childhood rivalry with Hamid.

Now let’s suppose that God was on my side and Satan was against me.

Then why he failed to tell Hamid about my imminent deportation?

Why didn’t he help Hamid answer that important call instead of getting it picked up by Waris?

He didn’t do any such things because he tells every man his best interest, maximizing chaos — and letting God take care of the rest.

Some time after my arrival to Pakistan, God told me it wasn’t Zakir but Waris who had answered that call.

Waris did that because he had greed in my $64,000. He was glad for my deportation. Zakir had no interest in my deportation. I was a good rival of Hamid and he likes me because of that.

Waris’s plans were good in the sight of God, so He let Waris’s plans succeed.

After my arrival to Pakistan, I had no face to show to my evil brother, Abid, who used to live at a walking distance from the airport and who enjoyed seeing others in distress, especially me.

I had my ATM card and had decided to disappear into some far, far Dadu district of Sindh but the damn ATM machine at the airport won’t recognize my card.

There used to be no international networks in Pakistan in 1998 and I was penniless.

I started thinking of any other way except for going to evil Abid.

God then sent a very cold wind and I got up, tied my Moroccan sleeping thobe (neck-to-ankle garment) so it looked like a Pakistani Kameez, which only extends to the knees.

Underneath, I was wearing white pajamas so now I looked more or less like an ordinary Pakistani.

Now I could walk my way to Abid’s.

I thought since it was a workday, evil Abid won’t be home and it’s easy to fool women.

But when I rang the bell, I was terrified to see evil Abid at the door.

Continues…

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Losing My Soulmate – 7

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