Chapter 8

 

The White Mosque was the most famous mosque of the capital. Located in the heart of the city, the mosque was the favourite venue for rallies and processions staged by the clergy. The mosque also housed separate seminaries for boys and girls, where poor students from far flung areas, who had no other means of education, received religious instruction. The White Mosque was affiliated with the Jamia Islamia of Maulvi Zia, who visited the mosque and led Friday prayers at least once a month. After the prayers, the maulvi would meet the students of the madaris as well as public delegations, who sought his guidance on questions of Islamic law and jurisprudence.

 

During one of his visits to the White Mosque, a student delegation asked him, “Maulvi sahib is it not our duty to wipe out evil?”

 

“Yes it’s,” the maulvi replied.

 

“There’s too much evil around us,” began one of the students in an emotional tone. “Video shops, which sell obscene movies and posters; music shops, which play loud provocative music round the clock; beauty parlors, where men and women come to decorate their bodies and faces; brothels, where shameless prostitutes cater to the needs of vulgar men. Filth, obscenity and vulgarity are endemic in the area. Is it not our duty to put an end to these evil things?”

 

Maulvi Zia thought for a moment and then said, ”No doubt it’s our sacred duty to combat and crush evil in whatever form it exists. But primarily, it’s for the govt to take action against such evil businesses. Have you not complained to the police?” Maulvi Zia asked Maulana Majeed, the khatib of the White Mosque and in charge of the seminaries.

 

“Yes we have on numerous occasions,” Maulana Majeed submitted. “But you know our police. They have turned a deaf ear to our complaints and shut their eyes to these vulgar businesses, which grease the palm of the police as well as the local member of the assembly. In such circumstances, we can’t count on the machinery of the state.”

 

Maulvi Zia went into deep thought and then said, “If the authorities are not alive to their duty, then we need to come forward. I’ll advise you,” he said looking at the students, “to begin with, go to these businesses and request them to mend their ways. Explain to them that what they are doing is at variance with the teachings of Islam. Tell them that in the short run they may suffer some loss due to closure of their businesses but in the long run, God will bestow His reward on them. Do that as I told you and come back to me. But I warn you not to resort to the use of force. Give them an opportunity to voluntarily mend their ways.”

 

With this exhortation, the maulvi asked the students to leave.

 

“Majeed, “Maulvi Zia spoke after the charged students had gone, “keep a close eye on the students. Let them do what they want as long as they don’t take the law into their hands. By the way, what do you know about this brothel and parlor?”

 

“The parlor and the brothel are owned by a well known social worker Mrs Khan, a high class bitch in her younger days, though few people know this as she works behind the scene. Her customers are the elite of the city — senior civil and military officers, foreign diplomats, businessmen, NGO executives and top politicians. That’s why the police are reluctant to act against them.”

 

“Have you ever been to those places?” asked Maulvi Zia with a smile.

 

“What are you saying sir?” remarked Majeed. “What have I got to do with these filthy places?”

 

“I was just kidding,” replied Maulvi Zia winking at his deputy. “But seriously, we must raise our voice against these evil businesses. This will give us an opportunity to talk to these elite and subsequently bargain with them. Besides, as the students say, it’s our religious duty to curb such practices. But why did you not tell me about this before?”

 

“I thought it would be of little interest to you.”

 

“Then you don’t know me,” Maulvi Zia chuckled. “Do you have that Mrs Khan’s contact number?”

 

I don’t have it now but I can get it for you.”

 

“I have to catch my flight to Lahore. You’ll send me the number when you get it,” said Maulvi Zia in a commanding voice.

 

“Hassan you said that you had some important thing to talk to me about,” said Babu Javed as Mr and Mrs Naqvi sat on a sofa in Babu Javed’s drawing-room.

 

“Yes,” said Mr Naqvi. “But where’s Farzana?”

 

“She is taking painting classes and is out for the same.”

 

“How nice! said Mrs Naqvi. “You have a wonderful daughter I must say.”

 

“Yes she is,” nodded Babu Javed getting impatient to know the purpose of the Naqvis’ call.

 

“Javed we have learnt that you’re planning to get Farzana married,” Mr Naqvi came to the point.

 

“Yes, you’re right. Farzana is now twenty-two and has done her graduation. It’s high time she got married. You must be familiar with Barrister Aziz. His son Rashid is also a promising lawyer. They are a nice family and I think Aziz would be a perfect match for Farzana.”

 

“I know Barrister Aziz, though I haven’t seen his son. They are a nice respectable family no doubt,” said Mr Naqvi. So have you conveyed your consent to them?”

 

“Not yet I’m afraid. Actually Barrister Aziz is abroad these days. He’ll be back next month and then we’ll arrange a formal engagement.

 

“Javed bhai, being Farzana’s father you’re entitled to find the best match for her. But have you solicited Farzana’s consent?” asked Mrs Naqvi.

 

“I know my daughter and I believe that she would abide by my decision. So no need for her formal consent,” replied Babu Javed.

“Without disputing what you say, I would request you to respect Farzana’s opinion. After all, it’s the question of her life.”

 

“What do you mean? Do you mean I have no respect for Farzana’s opinion? No one has her good closer to his heart than I,” Babu Javed responded sharply.

 

“Then you must know what she wants.”

 

Babu Javed knew full well what the Naqvis were driving at but pretended ignorance. “It will be better for all of us if you clearly come out with what you have in mind,” he said.

 

“Then my dear,” said Mr Naqvi, ”the fact of the matter is that Farzana and Ali like each other and we must respect their feelings as it’s a question of their life.”

 

Silence ensued for half a minute and then Babu Javed shouted, “What is this nonsense?”

 

“This is true Javed bhai, ”said Mrs Naqvi. Farzana is also dear to us like a daughter.”

 

“But Ali? Do you want me to marry my daughter to a person who isn’t capable of earning a single penny?”

 

“Why do you say this,” said Mr Naqvi trying to remain calm. ”Ali will have a bright career open to him once he completes his studies.”

 

“A bright career! What he would do at the most. Earn a few thousand rupees like you. Do you want my daughter to cry for a decent life like sister Fatima?”

 

“Javed bhai money isn’t everything. I have led a very happy and decent life with Hassan and I wish and I hope Farzana and Ali to lead a similar life of love and mutual understanding.”

 

“I’m afraid I don’t think Ali is eligible for my daughter. Besides, he’ll take at least three to four years to settle and I can’t wait for that long.”

 

Before either Mr or Mrs Naqvi could speak, Babu Javed said,” I don’t want to talk about this matter further. Now if you excuse me, I have some important phone calls to make.”

 

“What shall we do now?” asked Mrs Naqvi as they returned home.

 

“What options do we have?” said Mr Naqvi disappointingly. Ali is not interested and Javed has refused.

 

“If Ali agrees, then what?”

 

“Even then the problem will not be solved. Would Farzana marry Ali in the face of her father’s opposition?”

 

“I trust she will. But it’s better if he agrees.” At any rate, we need to act fast. I suspect Javed bhai will have Farzana engaged earlier than we expected,” said Mrs Naqvi.

 

“Ok tonight we once again talk to Ali. I was earlier of the view that we should speak no more of this to him as it will distract him from his studies. But since we have to act fast, the sooner it’s done the better.”

 

However, the Naqvis failed to convince Ali either and they finally accepted that Farzana and Ali were not destined to meet. The next day Mrs Naqvi also apprised Farzana of this but only made her more distressed.

 

Farzana was counting a lot on Mr and Mrs Naqvi. She believed that they would be able to convince Ali and her father. But now all her hopes were dashed. Therefore much against her will, she went to her father and said,” I’m willing to marry where you want me to.”

 

“That’s like a good girl!” exclaimed Babu Javed. You have relieved me of the greatest burden of my life. Trust me, Rashid will be a very good match for you and you would never regret bowing to my decision.”

 

“Yes father, I hope so,” replied Farzana in a languid voice.

 

 

One Sunday, Seth Nisar received a call. He told Sara that he had to leave immediately and might not be back for lunch. Seth Nisar was wont to spending the entire day-off at home. Hence, Sara surmised that her father was going on that queer business that had worried her. So she decided to spy on him. As soon as Seth Nisar left home, Sara followed her. The seth was himself driving the car, which was also unusual. He drove for twenty minutes and then stopped outside a farm house on the outskirts of the city. The guard deployed at the gate recognized him and let him go in.

 

Sara parked her car at some distance and decided to wait for his father. But even after an hour he didn’t come back. Since it was holiday, the road presented a deserted look. However, she realized that if she waited there for too long, she might be noticed. So she decided to drive back. But before doing that, she drove closer to the gate so that she could read the house No. It was D-13.

 

“Is Mr Rehman here?” Sara asked the guard.

 

“Who? Mr Rehman? No madam he doesn’t live here,” the guard replied.

 

“I’m sorry but I was told that Mr Rehman of Vital Industries lives at D-13. I have an appointment with him.”

 

“No madam this house belongs to Maulvi Zia sahib,” the guard tried to be as polite as possible. “You have got it wrong.”

 

“I guess so. Thanks; I’ll have to re-check,” said Sara and drove back home.

 

The name Maulvi Zia sounded familiar to Sara. But she couldn’t recall. As soon as she returned home, she went online. The search engine revealed to her that Maulvi Zia was the patron-in-chief of Jamia Islamia and a religio-political figure.

 

“What papa has got to do with a clergy?” she wondered. I know he’s not a religious person. Then what is so particular about Maulvi Zia and his men that papa is always at their beck and call?”

 

Sara thought and thought over these questions but failed to come up with an answer. “At least I know who the cause of papa’s visits is. Why is so? I need to find out. But it’s a matter of satisfaction that papa has no relations with miscreants as Maulvi Zia is a well-known and widely respected person.”

 

 

“Welcome,” said Maulvi Zia as Seth Nisar entered his office. ”Seth sahib, I requested your presence here because we have an important business to discuss.”

 

Zia paused for a moment and then resumed, “In order to spare your precious time, I’ll come straight to the point. We want to change the govt and need your support for this.”

 

“Change the govt!” Seth Nisar half rose from his chair.

 

“Yes, I’m afraid that’s the only way to bring the operation against the mujahideen to a halt and save our noble mission. We need heaps and heaps of money to lure some twenty greedy parliamentarians into change their loyalties,” Maulvi Zia tersely explained.

 

“How much do you need from me?” Seth Nisar also came to the point.

 

“Only Rs 200 million.”

 

“But this is a big amount,” said Seth Nisar in protest.

 

“Not for you,” Zia replied with a smile. Besides, for your contribution to a just cause you’ll be rewarded both in this world and in the hereafter. To begin with, we’ll ensure that the new govt allots you that precious piece of land that you are hankering after, and much more later.”

 

“Ok. You’ll have the money in a weak,” promised Seth Nisar.

 

“That’s why we like you so much,” said Zia breaking into laughter. Let’s celebrate.”

 

 

Seth Nisar was the owner of a group of industries. His only objective in life was to expand his business empire. He started off as a petty shopkeeper but by dint of hard work, cunningness and favourable fortune rose in the ranks. Hence, not surprisingly, he considered himself to be the architect of his destiny. He had little use for religion or morality except for publicity purposes.

 

One day while he was in his office, his executive secretary told him that one Maulvi Zia was seeking an appointment with him.

 

“Tell him I’m too busy to meet him,” replied Seth Nisar rather scornfully.

 

The next day he received a parcel with words ‘personal and confidential’ inscribed on it. He opened the envelope and saw a CD. He played the disk and was shocked to see what was in that.

 

Wealth had exercised a corrupting influence on Seth Nisar and turned him into a slave of his passions. The video that he received had captured one of his sexual exploits. As he finished watching the video, he received a call on his cell phone.

 

”I trust you have enjoyed the video. If you don’t want others, especially your daughter to enjoy that as well, immediately see Maulvi Zia,” said the caller.

 

The CD alarmed Seth Nisar and he decided to meet Zia at once. So he went to Maulvi Zia’s house. He was kept waiting for two hours before Zia gave him an audience.

 

“How are you seth sahib?” said Maulvi Zia sarcastically. “I’m sorry you were called here in this manner. But you’ll understand that we had no choice.”

 

“What do you want of me?” Seth Nisar asked rather indigently.

 

“Don’t be angry and don’t be impatient. I have nothing against you and mean no harm to you. If you agree to cooperate with us, I assure you wouldn’t be disappointed. Before we proceed, would you like to meet an acquaintance of yours?” said Zia and asked someone on the intercom to come in.

 

In a few seconds, the door was opened and in came a tall, pretty woman in early thirties. “I hope you two are well familiar with each other,” said Zia with a devilish smile.”

 

Seth Nisar turned back and sprang up from the chair as he saw the girl before him with whom he was captured in the CD while having sex.

 

“I hope you remember me, seth sahib,” said the girl with a smile.

 

“You here Bazga,” said Seth Nisar in disbelief.

 

“Yes it’s me, the woman said,”

 

“So you set Bazga to catch me,” said Nisar.

 

“I’m afraid this is true. Call her Bazga or whatever you may wish; it doesn’t matter. She is in my league. You can go,” he asked the girl and she withdrew.

 

“Why did you do this? asked Nisar.

 

“You are a smart businessman and you must be smart enough to see through this,” said Zia.

 

“You should be ashamed of what you are doing,” Seth Nisar returned. At least, this isn’t becoming of a man of religion.”

 

“Shouldn’t you be ashamed of how you exploit women who are just about the age of your daughter? Besides, why bring religion here? If something is wrong, it’s so for both the man of religion like me and the man of the world like you,” said Maulvi Zia in a crisp tone.

 

“What do you want me to do?” asked Nisar.

 

“Here you are. I’m least interested in whether you dishonor women or honour them, love them or make love with them. I’m not a woman right activist. Nor do I look down upon out-of-wedlock sex. However, I’m definitely interested in wealth and you have plenty of that,” said Zia with the calmness of a Zen master.

 

“So you have an eye on my wealth and want to exchange that for the CD,” said Nisar. How much do you want?”

 

“That’s like a businessman,” said Zia. “I told you I’m interested in wealth. This is true but it’s not the whole truth. I’m interested in wealth not for my own sake — I have already ample amount of it well beyond my personal needs — but for my noble cause.”

 

“What’s that noble cause?” asked Nisar.

 

“That I’ll tell you once you get our confidence,” said Zia. “For the present it’s sufficient for you to know that we can ruin your life and business by just uploading that video on the internet. But we’ll not do this. In exchange for that, you’ll be required to donate to us from time to time. I assure you that we’ll not only protect your secrets but using our influence and network will also help your business expand. You’ll agree that I’m offering you a square deal.”

 

Seth Nisar having understood that he was in the net assented. Since then he had been part of the racket. Gradually he came to know more about Zia and his movement. The more he knew, the more awesome they appeared to him. He also came to know that Zia had record of his other illegal and illicit activities and that there was no way out for him. He was asked from time to time to donate money to Zia. The latter on his part honoured his word. He safeguarded Nisar’s secrets and also helped his business grow. This led Nisar to realize that while the deal with the maulvi might not be a square one, it wasn’t a completely lose-lose situation for him either.