This memoir starts from My Cinderella. Thank you.
Now I had read Bible thrice and understood very little of it by that time so I told Jameel that according to Torah, a divorce had to be in writing, hence there was no need of a Halala.
I told him his sister was still married and could go back to her husband and there was no need for wasting money on marrying her to me and then, after I divorce her, marrying her back to her husband.
Those who have cared to read my memoir series titled FINDING MY SOULMATE already know how I had tried to find a cheating wife in Jordan and how Jesus had prevented me from doing that, and still had punished me for thinking about it.
I find this wicked habit of Jesus of first not allowing me to commit a sin and then punishing me for thinking of it very amusing and I enjoy His punishments and like to tell the world about my failed attempts at sin and Jesus’s punishments.
Jameel listened politely to my lecture in God’s ways and went away light-hearted. I thought he had understood and agreed with me and was no longer interested in a halala.
In September, 2014, I once earned Rs220 but my boss kept all money and only gave me Rs50. He used to give me 33% while others used to give 50% and also treat their workers in a nice way.
I once told him about my financial troubles and he promised to give me 50% but he had said that to cheat me.
I went home on foot to save money. I used to eat Paratha, a delicious oily bread, which was the cheapest food.
Only single men eat dinner at restaurants.
On that night, Waqar, the owner of that restaurant, decided to talk me into marrying his sister as I look like an attractive suitor for everyone and my poverty only adds to my attractiveness.
But he failed to show respect for his poor sister.
“We need a man for the ‘night job'”, that’s how he put it and I felt disgusted.
He realized his rudeness and asked me to talk to his father in the morning.
I had no interest in getting married because the torture I had suffered on my wife’s hands during my 12 years of marriage.
But my wicked boss had robbed me of a lot of money and I was left with only Rs7 on me. I was Rs3 short for a bus ticket to my office.
It’s very hot during the day and very inconvenient to walk the 3 km (2 miles) to the Real Estate office.
So I went to the Cafe al-Hasan nearby my house and met Ibrahim, Waqar’s father.
I told him I came because I was Rs3 short of a bus ticket back to office.
His son had briefed him about me and my disgust of calling marriage “the night job”. So he decided to cover up his son’s mistake.
“Waqar is my oldest son and I didn’t let him complete his education and instead, let him work with me. His younger brothers are getting education and it hurts me to see him without any degree.
“I work the day shift while Waqar works the night shift. I need a trustworthy guy like you to take charge of the night shift so that Waqar can continue his education.”
That’s how he tricked me into not running away.
I’m an easily-confused guy so I was fooled into believing that I had unnecessarily misunderstood Waqar and by “night job”, he had not meat SEX but NIGHT SHIFT job of running their restaurant.
So I accepted to work for them and he offered me to eat free lunch and dinners besides Rs6000 salary.
He wanted me to work from 8pm till 8am, seven days a week for Rs6000.
God didn’t like such a punishing schedule for a guy who had no one to help him in his household duties.
So two weeks earlier, I had found a job as a school teacher in Dua Children Academy just behind Cafe al-Hasan.
I’m a jolly teacher who likes to entertain children and who also likes to tell them God’s ways and about Good and Evil.
One Friday, a nice adult student who had beard & mustache but was in class 9, asked me to come close.
He whispered in my ear “What are menstrual cycles?”
It’s not good to leave children unaware because they then ask their peers or go search Internet and end up on erotic sites and illicit sex.
“Each month girls lay a tiny egg. If it’s not used, their body gets rid of it along with a little blood and other nourishing fluids for the fertilized egg. For a few days each month, the girls bleed. That’s called Menstrual Cycle.”
I didn’t want him to tell these things to young children and confuse them so I asked him not to tell anyone else and he nodded in agreement.
This memoir continues here.