With eyes set on the Zabarwan, Reyaz spotted that hot air balloon. Having been tempted to start the cross Dal sojourn from the Hazratbal Dargah just after the muezzin finished the call for prayer, to avoid losing customers, he felt a sort of guilt for not being able to join the congregational prayers. He would pray later after doing ablutions with the Dal water - which he doubted makes anyone pure or more impure! But, he had a family to feed!
Propelling the Shikara forward and ferrying tourists was the only means, nevertheless strenous, to earn a living - for himself, his wife who hadn't borne any children and his ailing mother who never approved of Zubeida - Reyaz's wife. For Reyaz, the life of the drivers of the Italian dredging machines and of the owners of the hot air balloon, was tempting as well as qaabil e rashq. They never have to exert much, work hard or/and haggle for the hundred odd rupees needed for the early morning lawasas, half kg Khyber milk packet and the vegetables for dinner. Besides, they can pray all the five prayers on their respective times.
He was lost in his thoughts - thinking about the ease of living that his contemporaries enjoyed - when the Shikara came to a halt, striking the concrete stepway near Centaur.
He sighed and said, "It is written!"
P.S. : Reyaz is illiterate & has never read 'The Alchemist'!
No comments:
Post a Comment
BOL - Speak out!