Hazy Dreams

A short tragic- story Translated from Urdu by Me’raj Ahmad Dar.

Mother, sitting in front of the hearth, was singing to some old folk song in a low tone. The kitchen smelt of some luscious dish being cooked. It seemed as some imposing visitors were to visit. The house looked spotless as Mother has been on a cleaning mission right from the morning. Her face sparkled with a visible joy after so many years, or perhaps, after decades. This gleeful aura was all because her son, Tanveer, was appointed as a teacher in a local high school and it was his first day to attend to the duty.

Tanveer’s father had died a long ago and Mother had toiled hard, day and night, to bring him up in the best possible way. Apart from the household chores, she would work on the spinning wheel earning some money for Tanveer and herself. They had also a small nugget of land which lay barren after the death of Tanveer’s father. Tanveer had completed his post-graduation and was now an established grown up young man. Aware of the trauma his family had gone through, he hoped for a better life now, a life which would heal the wounds time had inflicted on them, a life which would render itself to some order.

Tanveer was a different kind of fellow, staying mostly indoors engrossed in his books. He also did some casual farming which was the main occupation of the village here. He was liked by one and all, for he was intelligent and respectful. After getting the job, Mother would oftentimes talk to him about his marriage to which Tanveer replied,”Mother, there is a lot to be done yet, and, also, I am too young for marriage”. She would bluely answer,” Tanveer, you will wed but after my death. Perhaps you don’t like that I see your bride. Or perhaps, you think I would quarrel with her. No, I would keep her like a princess. And bear it in your mind, I have already chosen one for you “. Tanveer, after listening to all this time and again got ready to tie the knot.

Mother was obviously hinting at Nayeema, the daughter of a big landlord of the village. Nayeema was a beautiful shy girl and had a good understanding with Tanveer’s family. She would occasionally help Mother in her daily chores: washing clothes, utensils. On festive days like Eid, she would help Mother in festooning the house. But Tanveer and she, it seems, had a primal but strange asperity towards each other. They would quarrel with each other most of the time and Mother would laugh at their seemingly eternal arguing.

A beck ran by the side of their house. It had small grove on one of its banks. There was a small pathway through the grove and Tanveer would usually take this way to school. Nayeema’s house was on the same route and she would often watch Tanveer going school. She would have off pat his school timing and often come out of her house for one reason or the other talking to him. Their meeting was weird and wonderful. They would begin in a beautiful affectionate manner and end up in a squabble. But this quarrel would not last long. If it started in the morning they would be together by the evening.

Two months elapsed since Tanveer took the job and that day he had received his first salary. That evening Tanveer and Mother sat reflecting over the hardships they had gone through in the past. They were also talking about the joy felt by Tanveer’s father, had he been alive. Their eyes were moist, both with the sting of the past and the hope of future. Tanveer in his self made a list of the things to be purchased from the market with his first salary. By now, Mother had also decided to ask Nayeem’s family her hand for Tanveer formally.

The morning was glittering with the radiant sun and Tanveer started for school. When he was about to leave, Mother said lovingly,”Do buy some things for my Nayeema as well. And, yes, don’t forget to get some bangles for her (Nayeema)”. In the meantime Nayeema also arrived and seeing her, Tanveer said,” For this cat, I will only buy some milk”. Their fight started once again. Mother said smilingly,” How long will you two keep quarrelling. Now leave this childish temperament. You are going to marry now”. Tanveer left for the school .But this time he kept on turning toward Mother and Nayeema again and again. There was an unusual uncertainty in his gaze and unnatural listlessness in his heart. Anyhow, he disappeared in the thick grove for school and Nayeema came back to help Mother in her routine home task.

Before reaching school, Tanveer went shopping and bought  a variety of  things for Mother and Nayeema. He kept the stuff with him for the whole day anticipating the happiness Mother and Nayeema would exhibit in the evening. The day slithered to its closure at a lethargic pace. The school was about to close and Tanveer was in a deep hurry. He had hardly stood up that noise began to pour from every corner. There were helpless cries and screams everywhere. Everything was rattling. The school building started collapsing. It was really pandemonium. It was an earthquake. For some time everything seemed falling back to The Chaos.

The earthquake left everything destroyed. Dozens of houses lay flattened, hundreds of people killed and much more injured and maimed. Tanveer  also lost his life while rescuing the school children. His shopping lay by a side. When his dead body reached home, hell broke open for Mother. She could not understand what was happening. Her senses started betraying her. She fainted again and again crying,” Don’t leave me alone Tanveer. You had promised to come home with purchases. Stand up my son, Nayeem’s father has accepted our marriage proposal!”She was fast losing perception of existence. She would not accept that her son was died. She ossified into a silent statue, only tears rolling down her cheeks, tears that would freeze up the inferno. Nayeema’s dreams also shattered. Her happiness became perfidious. She would cry,” Tanveer, come back; I will never quarrel with you again. I will never annoy you. See, I don’t look like a cat now, but a bride, a beautiful dulhan.” She was in scarlet dress today and adored heavy jewellery.

Time passed, new houses began to be constructed. The whole village was trying to forget the catastrophic day. Everyone was busy with his work. Mother was still lost in thoughts; thoughts of her son, Tanveer. For the whole day she would gaze at the grove through which Tanveer used to come home from school.  Her eyes wore a dry look now. She had exhausted her every teardrop longing for Tanveer. Perhaps he is too busy with the work at school, she would think. Nayeema would still come to Mother changing her clothes and washing her, but Mother didn’t recognise her now. She was not conscious what was happening around her and for WHAT?

One day Mother saw a procession coming back from Nayeema’s house. Nayeem’s house was decorated with lights and flowers and there was much hustle and bustle. She stood up at once and began running after the procession falling down and standing up again and again. When the procession went too far, she tumbled on the earth crying,” Nayeema don’t go. Where are you going? Tanveer is waiting for you in the school. Come back, he is waiting. My Tanveer.  Your Tanveer. Our Tanveer. You can’t leave him stranded. Tanveer stop her…stop her…stop…stop…stop.” Her voice began to falter, her body started losing warmth and it seems she went to commune to Tanveer what  Nayeema has done!

Me’raj Ahmad is Mphil English from KU. This story originally featured in Urdu in Veeri Nag magazine (2006). 

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