Pir-E-Kamil: The Perfect Mentor (55 page)

'No. But they do know that he came to Lahore that night with a girl. He has admitted as much but denies that the girl was you. He claims to have come with a girlfriend and has already provided the proof.'

Dr Sibt-e-Ali deliberately omitted the fact that Salar claimed to have come to Lahore with a prostitute.

'No. His family too is not without resources and the police could not pick him up; but your family is convinced that he is the one who helped you run away.' Abruptly changing the subject he asked, 'What sort of a person is Salar?'

'He is bad...' Imama spoke impulsively. 'He is very bad.'

'But you just said he helped you...'

'Yes, but he is not a good person. Perhaps he helped me because once when he had tried to commit suicide I had helped save his life; or perhaps he did it because he is my brother's friend. But he is not a nice person...he has a mental problem...he says odd things...does odd things.' Imama was recalling in her mind the drive from Lahore to Islamabad and how Salar provoked her the entire way.

The police have contacted all your friends, including Sabiha,' Dr Sibt-e-Ali continued. 'Sabiha is back from Peshawar but Mariam has not told her any thing about your being here. You are not to contact her in any way not even by telephone. Her house is under surveillance and the phone will be tapped. In fact, for now your best bet is to lie low and not contact anyone at all.

'Can I contact them through my mobile phone?' Imama asked.

'You have a mobile phone?' Dr Sibt-e-Ali was startled.

'It belongs to Salar.'

'They have tracked Salar down; it will not take them long to trace the mobile phone. When you called Mariam from Sabiha's house did you call from the mobile?' Dr Sibt-e-Ali sounded worried now.

'No, I had used Sabiha's home phone to call.'

'You are not to use that mobile at all—neither to call nor to receive calls.' He was somewhat relieved.

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For the next few days Dr Sibt-e-Ali would come home in the evenings and tell her about the development regarding her family's quest to find her. The police were questioning everyone she could have been in touch with and going to all places where she may have sought refuge. Medical colleges, hospitals, hostels, friends, colleagues...Hashim Mubeen left no stone unturned. The only thing he did not do was approach the media. He knew that was a route that would lead to disgrace and disappointment. To whatever extent he could, he was trying to keep his daughter's disappearance a secret. He had contacted the police; his own community was aware of his predicament and was doing its best to help in the search.

The police had contacted Sabiha's family but they were not aware of the fact that she had sought refuge in her house on her arrival from Lahore. The fact that Sabiha and her family had at that point been in Peshawar threw them off the scent. Mariam too had not confided in Sabiha and continued to play the part that she too was confounded by Imama's disappearance.

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Having lived some weeks in the security of Dr Sibt-e-Ali's house, Imama was convinced that she was safe; that no one would be able to follow her to this place. She decided to call Salar and ask for the marriage certificate. It was now that she was horrified to learn that Salar had neither allowed her the right to ask for divorce nor was he prepared to divorce her. She felt the ground slip away from under her feet.

This was the first time that she had used the mobile phone since her arrival in Dr Sibt-e-Ali's house; that too to call Salar and without informing anyone. She began to be aware of her folly. She should never have trusted a man like Salar. At the very least she should have read the nikahnamah or kept a copy of it for herself.

As the realization grew that Salar could become a real problem in her life, she began to rue all her earlier decisions. Had she ever imagined she would meet a man like Dr Sibt-e-Ali, she would never have committed the folly of getting married—and that too to a man like Salar.

Had she known that Dr Sibt-e-Ali would help her regardless, she would have told him the truth about Salar. Surely, he would have found a way out for her. But now that she had so convincingly lied about the fact that there was no man involved in this enterprise, how could she back out of it? And then, that she was married to the very man she had badmouthed about.. .the very man against whom her family had filed an FIR with the police on charges of abducting her. Should she now come clean and confess everything to Dr Sibt-e-Ali? She feared if she did so she may lose the only refuge she had; and at this moment she did not want to do that.

In her worry and apprehension, Imama lost all appetite; she could neither eat nor drink. The future seemed bleak and dark. As for Salar Sikandar...she had developed such a hatred for him that if he were before her she would have shot him. A myriad of fears and anxiety began to prey on her mind. Earlier, she was afraid of her family; added to that fear now was her dread of Salar. She did not know which way to turn. Always quiet by nature, she now slipped into complete quietude. She began to lose weight and became listless and lethargic. The change was not lost on Dr Sibt-e-Ali and his family. One by one, they spoke to her to find out what was worrying her but she managed to fob them off.

'What is the matter Imama? You have always been quiet, but now you look as if a great worry is pressing down on you.' Mariam was the first to approach her.

'It's nothing Mariam. Just that I miss home,' Imama tried to make light of the situation.

Mariam was not to be misled so easily. 'Why now? You have been here for sometime now but it is only over the last few days that you have stopped eating. You are looking pale, you have circles under your eyes as if you have not been sleeping well and you have lost weight. If this goes on you will soon fall ill.'

Imama could not deny Mariam's observations. She knew that anyone looking at her could gauge the extent of her anxiety and perhaps also that it was due to recent developments. But she was helpless—she could not confide in Mariam about Salar, nor could she confess to her marriage with Salar.

Again she tried to put Mariam off. 'I have been thinking more of my family lately. The more time passes, the more I seem to miss them,' she said softly; nor was this a complete lie because she was missing them intensely.

She had never been separated from her family for such a length of time. True, she lived in a hostel in Lahore but she made it a point of going home at least once a month. Her father or brother would also often drop by to see her; and then there was the telephone; she spoke to her folks nearly every day. But now she felt as if she was adrift on an endless sea with no one in sight. Those beloved familiar faces were now hers only in her mind and in her imagination.

Mariam, seeing that Imama was not willing to share her fears with her, changed the subject and began to prattle on about other things, hoping to distract her from whatever it was that was worrying her.

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Dr Sibt-e-Ali was blessed with three daughters. Mariam was the youngest of the three and was completing her medical studies. The two older sisters were married and living in cities other than Lahore. Incidentally, soon after Mariam came to Dr Sibt-e-Ali's house, the sisters came home one by one to visit the parents.

Mariam found in both sisters the same love and kindness that she had come to associate with Dr Sibt-e-Ali and his family, but on both occasions she was greatly reminded of her own sisters and the love and affection they had lavished on her. She thought of her home, her father, her older brother, Waseem, and Saad...Saad who was not related to her by blood. Saad had been adopted in keeping with her community's practice of adopting homeless boys and by giving them security and love, creating a new member for the community. In keeping with this principle, Hashim Mubeen had adopted Saad when he was very little and Imama was in her last year of school. The coming of a stranger into her house had been a new experience for Imama.

'We have adopted Saad as an expression of our gratitude to Allah, who has given us so much; by doing this we hope to establish a chain of kindness,' her mother had explained to Imama on the day she brought Saad home. 'You should regard him as your younger brother.'

Imama was very proud of her parents that day; that they were willing to share the blessings God had given them with those less fortunate than them. She did not stop to think that her uncles had done the same as had some other prominent families she knew. It was only much later that the true nature of these adoptions came to light.

Saad and Imama shared a bedroom and, from the very beginning, Saad became attached to her. Once Imama joined medical college and accepted Islam, she began telling Saad stories about the Holy Prophet (PBUH) on her trips home for the weekend. Since Saad was too young to reason, she would simplify her rationalization by saying 'As God is one, our Prophet (PBUH) too is unique. There is no one like him and there can be no one like him.'

While talking to Saad she would always ask him to not repeat their conversations to the rest of the family, but she well knew that that would not happen. She was aware that Saad was already deeply influenced by the family and the community, and by the regular religious gatherings he attended. She had also thought that once she completed her education and started living her own life, she would take Saad with her; though again she was well aware that that would not be an easy thing to do.

When leaving home, she had contemplated taking Saad with her, but she knew that such a step would increase the danger of her getting caught. Albeit many times since she had found shelter in Dr Sibt-e-Ali's house, she wondered if she could have brought Saad along. Although she had broken off ties with her family and was determined to pursue the path she had chosen for herself, this did not in any way diminish the love she still felt for them or for Jalal Ansar.

All night in the privacy of her room she would cry for them. Initially, no one knew how unhappy she was. When she would appear at the breakfast table with swollen eyes, she would shrug off the hosts' concern by saying she had had a sleepless night. However, one night Mariam came into her room unexpectedly. Since it was very late, Mariam, assuming that Imama would be asleep, did not knock on the door. Imama was in bed but not asleep; wrapped in a blanket she had been crying with a deep anguish born of hopelessness. As Mariam turned the handle to enter, Imama quickly covered her face with the blanket. The movement alerted Mariam to the fact that Imama was not sleeping.

'Imama?'

No reply.

'Imama, are you awake?' Mariam walked to the bed and pulled the blanket off Imama's face. She was horrified to see Imama's tear-stained face. 'Imama! No wonder you look so exhausted.' Making up her mind in a minute, she pulled Imama off the bed. 'No more sleeping alone and worrying! You are to sleep in my room from now on,' she said determinedly.

Quietly Imama followed Mariam to her room; she was too ashamed to say anything. From that day on Imama slept in Mariam's room. As a result, she stopped crying in the nights but she still had no control over sleep; and there were still nights when she lay sleepless till the early hours of mornings.

When she would look at the medical books in Mariam's room, Imama would be filled with a deep melancholy. She knew she had left that life far behind and there was no return to it.

In the mornings, once Dr Sibt-e-Ali would leave for work and Mariam for college, Imama would go and spend time with Mrs Sibt-e-Ali whom she called Aunty. Or perhaps it was the other way around. Perhaps it was Aunty who would not leave Imama alone; she kept her busy all day so she would not have time to brood. Despite Aunty's efforts, there were times when Imama would fall into a reverie oblivious to the world around her. She made no effort to get in touch with Salar again. She knew nothing would come of it except an increase in her worries.

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Three months had passed since she had come to stay with Dr Sibt-e-Ali and family. One day he called her to his study.

'Imama, it has been a while now since you left home. Your family, while not having given up the search, has lessened their efforts to locate you. Have you given any thought as to what you would like to do next?' he asked.

'I would like to continue my studies,' Imama replied quietly.

Dr Sibt-e-Ali considered her reply; overlooking her answer he asked,

'Have you given any thought to your marrying?'

'Marry...? I do not understand...' Imama stuttered, completely taken aback by the question.

'Given your circumstances the best way out of this situation would be marriage. If you were to marry into a nice family, it would provide you with the security you so lack now,' Dr Sibt-e-Ali broached the subject that was obviously on his mind. 'I know a few boys from very good families; I wish for you to marry one of them.'

All colour drained from her face, Imama watched Dr Sibt-e-Ali. It was the same conclusion she had come to so many months ago, the thought that had led her to Salar Sikandar and to folly.

Had she not been married to Salar, she would have accepted Dr Sibt-e-Ali's proposal with alacrity. She understood that marrying into a well established family would give her sanctuary from many problems she now faced. She had always lived a sheltered life depending on her family for all her needs. It frightened her that now she had no one to turn to. How long could she go on like this? But her hasty marriage to Salar was like a bone stuck in her throat—she could neither spit it out nor swallow it.

'No, I will not marry.'

'Why not?'

She had an answer to Dr Sibt-e-Ali's question but not the courage to give it. What would Dr Sibt-e-Ali think of her if she said the truth? That she was a liar and had been living in his house for so long under false pretences. Or, perhaps he would think that she left her house in order to marry Salar and all the rest of it was a pack of lies. And what if, on knowing the truth, he refused to help her any further...or asked her to leave the house...then what? Or what if he decided to contact her parents? She had lived for three months in Dr Sibt-e-Ali's house and she had realized he was a good and kind person, but she herself was too scared, too intimidated by her circumstances to put implicit trust in anybody; she could not afford to run the risk of trusting anyone so completely.