Offering God An Apology – 1

This memoir of my life starts on one beautiful day of early 2012.

I had just joined Dar-ul-Ishaat as a web developer when God’s angel came to me and I saw a vision.

I saw myself sitting on a sofa in the lobby of some university’s dormitory, where my Monia, my soulmate, was studying.

In front of me was a counter and there was the Counter Guy standing there.

On my right hand was the door. A stupid guy entered, came down the couple steps and went straight to the Counter Guy.

He had come with his arms dangling in a disrespectful manner and asked for Monia.

The Counter Guy rebuked him and that stupid, ill-mannered guy turned around and went straight out.

That amazed me because I wondered “Who is this guy whose orders are obeyed by all and sundry?”

I looked at the Counter Guy to see his face but I observed that I was unable to see his face.

Then I woke up.

“We’re not allowed to see the face of God”, say the Jews.

I sat up and thanked God for saving my Monia for me and taking good care of her through all the years.

He had saved her for me despite my sincere request to marry her to a nice guy who’d treat her well after she had refused my marriage proposal in late June, 1997.

In fact, it was me who had asked her why she won’t go see her mom back in August 1996 soon after I met her for the first time.

She had pointed her finger to her eyes and said “al-Haman” (The neighbors will see me).

But when I slept with her, I took away her shyness because I don’t shy from nor fear bad guys.

Weren’t it these same neighbors who had rushed to save her from the assailants when they had heard her shouts for help and sent the assailants to 10 years of prison?

Weren’t these donkeys aware of Monia’s innocence and assailants’ fault?

Why should one fear or shy away from such idiots?

In the morning, a wicked idea came to me and I offered Monia to escort her till the main square of Immouzzer and she agreed.

Once we reached the turn of her street, I kissed her lips and she kissed me back.

We didn’t fear anyone. We didn’t shy from anyone. We kissed passionately in the main square of the little town of Immouzzer.

Nothing bad happened. No one objected. And why would they?

Weren’t we free people?

By next year, she got rid of all her shyness because I’d frequently take her out and she’d hold my arm. Once, she sat on my laps and we enjoyed a cup of tea.

Sometimes, we’d lip-kiss and show our affection to the world.

In a year’s time, I helped her get rid of fear & shyness and she fool listened to me, refused my marriage proposal and went back to her mom!

It was me who had spoiled our marriage plans!

I did that because I loved her so thoroughly and God had asked me not to take her away from her mom; otherwise she was going to miss her mom.

That’s why I don’t regret my actions.

I had advised her to go back to her mom for her own good because she had left her mom in Fes and had come with her aunt to Immouzzer.

But even after seeing that vision, I fool had failed to see the obvious.

That’s why God resent the angel (whom the Jews call ‘Gabriel’) and I saw the second vision.

I saw I was entering a gymnasium. Monia was the instructor and I was her only client.

She lied down on a blue mattress, threw her hips in the air as my wife, Saima, used to do whenever she enjoyed sex and said “Make love like this!”

Then I woke up and sat up.

I was at a loss to understand. I thought “Why God always asks me to love Saima? Why doesn’t He ask Saima to love me? And why was Monia copying Saima’s ways? Does God want to tell me that Saima no longer loves me? Why? Don’t I already know that?”

I mean what’s the point?

I was so confused. I just kept wondering about God’s strange ways.

Then I suddenly got it: God was telling me “I’m going to dissolve your marriage to Saima and marry you to your Monia”!

I immediately advised God against doing such a horrible thing. I presented my apology to God with all due respect.

I said “No, dear God, don’t you do that, please. Think about my children. I got little children and they’re going to miss their mom and cry “Ma… Ma! What will happen to my poor children?”

“So what should I do then?”, asked God, my Lord.

“Don’t do anything. I don’t want Monia, I want Saima because I got two children now and the children want Saima, not Monia” I said.

“But Saima doesn’t love the children. She uses them. She’s spoiled their school year. She distorts their minds by her continuous bickering & fights.” Said God.

“She indeed is very selfish & evil. Tell you waht. Kill her!” said I, offering God a better solution.

Continues  here.

Offering God An Apology – 1

My Cinderella – 1/2

In late December, 2000, God sent an angel who told me “If you agree to visit Rawalpindi, then there’s a good chance that Uncle Irshad will help you marry a Pashtu-like girl.”

My ex-father knows that I got a taste for fair girls of mountainside.

My younger maternal uncle, Izhar, had suggested to me visiting his older brother with his children on the occasion of holy Eid Festival but I knew he was trying to marry me to his daughter, Khadija, 16, born in USA to get funding for his future plans to immigrate to USA.

My unintelligible ex-father had rejected his lucrative business deal.

When I went to jail on December 6, 1997, He had given me a tool to ask Him questions. I first used that tool to ask what He thought of me. He said “You’re a trustworthy guy who keeps his words.”

Now that He had not condemned me for my crime, I next asked Him THE question. “Why did You take my girl from me?”

To be honest, men don’t love God. We love women!

He said “We don’t take anything except to replace it with something better”. He promised me a Magnificent Girl.

I called her Wada (promise) because she was my promised girl.

Since I had promised my maternal Aunt Qudsia to take her on a tour of Islamabad and Murree, I asked her to join us but that freaked Uncle Izhar and he didn’t send his daughter with me.

He could have cared for his younger sister but he used to despise her for being a widow & poor.

At Station Rawalpindi, I found Uncle Irshad waiting for me with his youngest daughter, Memona.

But he never introduce us to each other.

After I had shower and some rest, he introduced his oldest daughter, Safia, to me.

Even a fool like me could understand he was offering to marry Safia to me.

Well, Safia looked good enough to me but she was not particularly interested in me.

I wicked used my tool to ask my ex-father about marrying her.

He said “She’s the best sister but she’s got a problem.”

What an ambiguous answer!

Didn’t I tell you my ex-father was unintelligible?

Saima, the middle daughter, had been following me everywhere without saying a word, confusing me.

I asked God “And what about Saima? Why does she keep following me?”

He shocked me when He said “Yes, marry her. She is The Promised Girl.”

But what about me? I thought she was a scary girl who beat children??

On the eve of Eid, we all went for shopping. I bought Eid Greeting cards for everyone but I got stuck when I found a “Greetings, Aunt” card.

I looked around and found scary, silent Saima right behind me.

I asked her whether to buy an Aunt-Greeting card or a Happy Eid card for our aunt.

She picked a card, handed it to me and ran away. Strange girl!

I looked at the card.

It said “I Love You”!

But I was wise enough not to trust a child-beating girl. It could have been a trap.

I bought that card and a simple “Eid Greeting” card for my aunt.

Better safe than sorry!

The women & girls were buying bangles. I stepped aside lest a woman bumps into me in that narrow, crowded alley and serves me a free, undeserved slap.

I was standing beside a stall in which I saw a beautiful ring and my ex-father asked me to buy it.

It was a cheap, Rs10 thing.

I cursed the shopkeeper in my heart and slipped that cheap thing in my pocket.

I knew the child-beating Saima wasn’t going to accept that ring.

When I returned home, I put that dangerously cheap ring on the refrigerator. Saima used to cook all meals so she was going to see it and pick it up — if she accepted it.

She didn’t pick it up.

Aunt Qudsia did.

She tried it on all her fingers but it fit none. She gave it to my Uncle’s wife but it fit none of her fingers, either.

Nusrat, landlord’s daughter was there. She also tried but failed. That intrigued her.

She was witty and realized it was a special ring.

She took it upstairs and showed it to her visiting sister, Nuzhat. It was too small for her fingers so she gave it to her 13-year old daughter but it didn’t fit any of her fingers, either.

This story continues .here.. Thanks.

My Cinderella – 1/2

The Son of Woman

In January 1992, I went to visit Pakistan with mom and my little sister. This was my first vacations after landing my first job with Dallah Group in February, 1991.

My brother Hamid joined us shortly thereafter. He’s an interesting brother.

Since his arrival, he was in search of a song he had heard and found amusing.

He only remembered its rhythm and a few lyrics. Since I had never heard it, I couldn’t help him find it.

A girl of 10 used to come and go freely in our house because our mom loved her for some reason. Her name was Fahmida.

Hamid once asked her about the song and sang the small part he remembered,

“Tu patang heh kisi aur ki”
(you are someone else’s kite)

It made her burst into a laugh!

Hamid, the Mr. Smart, was embarrassed. After a while, she caught her breath and corrected Hamid: It’s not patang (kite) but pasand (like).

She then told him song’s name as well as the name of the Indian movie, DIL HEH KEH MANTA NAHI (MY HEART JUST WON’T ACCEPT).

That movie is an Indian remake of Hollywood movie, IT HAPPENED ONE NIGHT.

Little did Hamid know God was going to make that movie and its song come live in his life. Hamid had been signed up for THE DIVINE COMEDY, which he rather sees as THE DIVINE TRAGEDY because it hurts him.

My flight back was scheduled earlier and went through Dhahran and I returned with my sister, while mom stayed behind with my brother, Hamid, (who figures out prominently in my life).

A few days later, I went to Airport Dhahran to receive mom who had decided to go through Dhahran back to Jeddah with me. My brother, Asim, who used to live in Dhahran, had given me his car to bring mom home.

I waited until all passengers came out but my mom didn’t come out. I gently asked the security guard to let me in to see why my mom had not come out.

I found her in the legal office. She was being interrogated by two officers. They told me my mom possessed 100 copies of magic. Traficking in magic carries death penalty in the holy lands of Saudi Arabia.

I looked at those pages and found some verses of Quran. I showed them those verses and asked them how that could be magic?

They looked intently, consulted with each other and knew they had no chance of winning the case and released mom.

Mom then told me she wasn’t sorry for her loss of those pages. She used to feel sorry for the millions of poor visitors and pilgrims who were harassed by these insolent customs officers who used to ruthlessly tear apart their luggage in search of non-existent drugs and left them crying without compensation.

It was then that I decided I was going to challenge them one day to prosecute me and God called me Son of Woman.

Hence, my crime described in my blog post, “The Flight from Casablanca”.

The Son of Woman