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 Strange Divorce

In the serialized memoirs titled  My Cinderella  and  My Promised Girl,  I made the assertion that my marriage to Saima was from-God, not from-men.

If such a bond isn’t holy, then what is?

Now in these series, I’ll show you why this bond is both holy and wicked.

In late June, 2013, I received an anonymous call. They were a software house who needed someone to serve as the contact person with their American client(s).

They had found my resume and contact details through, an online job search site.

The timings of that job were from 7pm till 3am.

I wrote an email to my brother Hamid in Saudi Arabia asking him to help me buy a car as there was no public transport after 9pm.

The reply came from my God-ordained wife and it came harsh & swift.

She called me her “rude, disobedient husband” and withheld food from me.

She told me Hamid had sent no money in June and accused me of never earning any money, hence, she had no food for me.

She pulled the curtain of my door-less room, “locking” me in.

I was surprised & puzzled by her confusing statements and lies.

Having no access to money, I lied down silently in my room.

After a couple days, she showed me a statement of account with Rs13,500 in it — enough for all our expenses for a month.

She had at least nine more accounts.

“Why then she has no food for me? And why not give me a little money to join the company and earn more money?” I wondered because she made no sense.

After a few more days, she let me overhear her telling someone in frustration, “He doesn’t even die!”

I was at a loss to understand why she wanted me dead.

I tried to figure her out for some 30 days without success.

If you play tricks on me, I won’t figure it out and that’ll frustrate you.

After 30 days, I ran out of water and poured some drinkable water in my bottle but she moved all the bottles away.

I then decided to find some place else.

I put some clothes in a plastic bag, sold back a medicine for Rs35 and bought a bus ticket to downtown for Rs20.

I had worked in Darul Ishaat, an Islamic publishing house near Urdu Bazaar stop and there’s a restaurant there called Sabri Nihari who give their leftovers free to homeless tramps & addicts.

After 30 days without food, I tasted some leftovers and thanked God.

It was rotten food that poisoned me.

I went to nearby Civil Hospital and managed to see a physician in ER.

The free medicines solved my problem while the blood count report came clean.

I slept on the pavement because Darul Ishaat asked me to join them after Islamic Eid festivals, some 12 days later.

I went to the Civil Hospital next day also and annoyed the physician who threatened not to give me anymore medicines if I continued eating rotten food.

Left with no other options, I told God I was going to return home and ride the bus.

If the conductor complained, I’d disembark and return to downtown.

But he accepted Rs15 and didn’t complain, quite unusual.

When I knocked the door of my apartment, my wife opened and gave up her tricks and told me she just wanted me not to search for jobs in Pakistan and to go to Saudi Arabia as agreed with Hamid in December 2012!

I told her I never had any problems.

According to my wife’s wish, I then asked Hamid to send me Rs500,000 to buy an immigrant visa to Saudi Arabia.

I had no bank account so he used to send all money to my wife’s account.

But my wife won’t trust me and accused me of conspiring to humiliate her once in Saudi Arabia.

Again, if you play tricks with me, I won’t understand your implied message and frustrate you.

I wrote to Hamid about her delusions of paranoid but he rubbished them as immature complaints.

I asked him to send me Rs35,000 because my wife had again withheld food and money from me.

My wife stole my ID card so that I won’t be able to receive money from my brother.

When I asked her to return back my stolen ID, she also stole the rest of my documents, degrees and certificates and ran to her parents’.

Continue  here.

My Strange Divorce

My Promised Girl – Part VIII

This story starts from  My Cinderella.  Thank you.

I then received an email from Saima, my conditional wife, gently chastising me for picking unnecessary fights and told me about her efforts to put off that fire.

I told her the story of my class fellows and informed her how making her father angry was THE solution because if he failed to call me to the wedding, I won’t need to fulfil the Condition and it’ll be his fault, not mine.

I told the same to my elder sister and it made her laugh and roll.

We then waited anxiously for the clock to tick 00:00am, September 1, 2001.

As the clock finally ticked, I cut the cake in Karachi while Saima celebrated 1000 miles away in Rawalpindi.

My uncle tried to rubbish all my claims but when I and Saima threatened to resort to law (court marriage), he finally gave in.

Every knee shall bow to Jesus. Wasn’t that written 2000 years ago?

Even though my uncle lost the war & the Condition, I still brought my elder sister and my younger brother’s wife to the wedding party.

To make it interesting and funny, God made us arrive late at the airport and we were asked to enter the plane from its rare!

The wedding was quite simple and was held on September 28, 2001 according to my elder sister’s wish.

Until this writing, she doesn’t know I had found my soulmate, Monia, on the August 28, 1996.

But I didn’t marry my soulmate.

I married a strange girl instead.

That story has run parallel on this blog with the title Finding My Soulmate.

But doesn’t Jesus call marrying a strange flesh “fornication” in the Gospel?

Why had He helped me commit a fornication?

I call Him Enigma and a TNT for The Brain for a reason.

In the new series, I’ll tell you some secrets that’ll blow your mind off.

For the time being, I’ve proved my wicked marriage was from-God, not a man-made bond.

In the next series, I’ll prove it was a wicked promise of God.

This blog post is dedicated to  Anna,  one of my best readers & a true friend.

My Promised Girl – Part VIII

My Promised Girl – Part VI

This story begins with  My Cinderella.  Thank you.

He offered to renovate our late mom’s house, some 3 km farther from my university.

That meant changing 3 busses instead of two.

But on second day, he claimed losing its keys and offered instead to buy me the Rs700,000 house near Abid’s house despite my objection to live near Abid.

But that house had already been sold.

He then offered to give me a room on rent nearby but I refused.

“What is your desire?” He finally cared to ask.

I showed him an apartment that belonged to Aunt Qudsia’s late husband, uncle Akhlaq. It was nearby my university.

Since my arrival to Pakistan in early 1998, Aunt Qudsia had given me its keys to repair its broken lock and keep it clean.

I asked him to talk to Aunt Qudsia to sell me that Rs250,000 apartment.

He kept negotiating its price until it reached Rs375,000. He then bought some cheap furniture and got one room furnished along with a computer.

He promised to send me Rs375,000 as soon as he returned to Saudi Arabia.

We then went to meet Abid.

Hamid told me NRL had demoted Abid to humiliate him and had put him on-call but won’t give him enough time to sleep.

I informed Abid that NRL actually wanted him to resign and I advised him not to but he insisted.

So I wrote him a simple resignation letter citing personal troubles. They dropped all charges, stopped humiliating him and released him with all dues cleared.

As soon as Hamid went back to Saudi Arabia, I moved into “Casa Nishani”, uncle Akhlaq’s apartment, which means “the House of the Sign of God.”

I used to call Saima Wada (The Promise) but now I started calling her Nishani (sign or the fulfilment of The Promise).

In late May, at the start of my summer vacations, I went out and bought furniture for the rest of the apartment as well as necessary electrical appliances and updated my relatives of my news.

After a week, Aunt Qudsia showed up. I asked her to wash her feet (hands) while I went out and bought Biryani, a delicious chicken rice dish.

After the lunch, she tried to come to the point but the angel of God tried to kill her and a great fear fell upon her.

She asked me to enquire from God why her heart was giving her trouble.

I told her her evil intentions were putting her at risk.

She then changed her evil plans and asked me nicely about my payment plans for the apartment.

I told her she still had not shown me the ownership documents. She could choose Rs375,000 cash or Rs600,000 paid in 60 equal installments.

She chose Rs600,000 and went away.

I informed my brothers of the new deal.

After a while, I received a call from Hamid insisting me to see the ownership documents before paying a single penny and advised me to request Aunt Qudsia to give me a letter authorizing me to install a land line as my cellular phone was very noisy.

On the other hand, he informed Aunt Qudsia of my expected visit and advised her not to give me any letter unless I paid Rs600,000 in cash first.

My stupid briefcase had a stuck lock. I got it repaired and went to nearby branch of MCB and asked them to give me traveller checks in lieue of $2500 cash.

They said they had no traveller checks and as soon as I went out, they called a cellular number.

Two thugs followed me on a bike, asked the rickshaw driver to stop and robbed me off of my money.

When I went to Aunt Qudsia, she demanded payment of Rs600,000 in cash and refused to show me the papers or even their copies.

I told her she couldn’t change the deal now. It’s either Rs600,000 in installments or nothing unless I consent.

She told me she could get me thrown out of Casa Nishani along with my stuff in a matter of two days.

I challenged her to do that because I no longer intended to pay a penny nor vacate the apartment, either.

Now this is how God fulfilled the promise of marrying me to Saima without actually fulfilling the Condition.

Continue  here.

My Promised Girl – Part VI