CAMEL | By: Shamoil Ahmad | | Category: Full Story - Love Bookmark and Share



Shamoil Ahmad




Maulana Barkatullah Warsi's camel was  sturdy and Sakeena had the

dextricity of a rope maker...Maulana was not embarrassed that his

relation with Sakeena was like that of a camel and a rope. But he was

also the Imam of the mosque and this occasionally made him aware of his

guilt, gave him occasional jitters. It is necessary to know where

actually  the urge begins. It begins with the eyes. Just...protect your

eyes. The eyes were fixed on the hole of the door and Sakeena, squatted

on the floor, was having bath. Crooning out ‘' La ilaha illillah

.....'' she poured the last bucket of water on her person and stood up

to conclude his bathing. Maulana looked dazed. Sakeena's butt was

twisted like an upturned arch in such a manner that while her breasts

inched forward, her rear protruded backward. The meaty portion of her

entire body seemed to have deposited on her butt. Sakina, with a swift

jerk, threw back her locks and Maulana noticed beads of water trickling

down on the arch of her back and depositing on her butt. Maulana went

home, wolfishly feasted on his wife and proceeded to the bathroom. That

day he had gone to the house of Rahmat Ali to give him an

amulet......he was a regular visitor there. Rahmat Ali was unwell those

days. It appeared to him that someone had cast some evil spirit on his

house which was precisely why the prosperity and happiness had deserted

the household. The only son Hashmat too had taken to gambling and god

knows from where he had brought in Sakeena, the mother of two children,

to this house. Sakeena had come in with nikahnama, the certificate of

marriage. Rahmat Ali was forced to countenance this as his son had duly

married her. But for his wife Begam Rahmat it was difficult to digest

and the neighbors took no time in declaring that Sakeena was the kept,

a consort, of Hashmat. Rahmat Ali was having a burning sensation in

every joint of his fingers. When doctors failed to diagnose the

problem, it was Maulana who they came to. Maulana read out from the

Holy Scripture and took the measurement of his shirt. It fell short by

a finger. Maybe, it was spell of evil spirit . The following day he

went to the Rahmat Alis with Solomon's ring .. The door to the

courtyard was ajar. He knocked at it. There was no response. Maulana

coughed his way in. There was no one to be seen. But there was the

sound of falling water coming from the bath. The bathroom was adjacent

to the hand pump in the courtyard. His curiosity grew when he heard

some crooning sound emanating from inside the bathroom and moved close

to the hole on the door....and fixed his eyes on the peeping hole...

Yes, it's the eyes that need to be protected and one should know that

in the matters of trappings women were extremely wily. Ever since

Sakeena had moved in, something or the other was regularly happening.

She would keep pressing her demands and she had the backing of the

nikahnama. Begam Rahmat kept fuming if ever Sakeena put her hands on

anything. But in the presence of Hashmat, she could not have her say.

If ever Sakeena brewed tea, Begum Rahmat would go wild, but helpless in

the presence of Hashmat. She would keep a watch on her to see if she

was stealing sugar. One day she was caught while in the act. Hashmat

had gone somewhere. Sakeena had run short of her ration; her children

were crying hoarse as they were hungry. Maulana was then seated on the

verandah. Sakeena entered the kitchen to fetch milk for her children

and Begum caught her in the act of stealing. “You bitch! Do I have to

give milk for your bastard...?” With her children hungry and crying

furiously, the mother acquired the strength of a lioness. With one

swift jerk she extricated her hand. “You old wretch...!” “Shut up!

Arguing with me...?” Begum Rahmat held her by her locks. Sakeena too

held her by her locks.... “Arrey....arrey...!” Rahmat Ali came running.

“Turned it into a harridan house....a harridan house...!” Both were in

the severe jostling act of muscle flexing, beating...Rahmat Ali somehow

separated the two. Sakeena's eyes were disgorging fire and brimstone.

She stood firmly and defiantly there with her disheveled hair. Seeing

this dreadful appearance of Sakeena, Rahmat Ali got frightened. Begum

Rahmat too was shivering. Milk was procured for her starving children

but the sense of insecurity got ingrained and deepened in the psyche of

Sakeena. Maulana counseled Rahmat Ali. “Hashmat has formally married's not proper to commit excesses on her...” When Sakeena came

to the courtyard, Maulana quietly and stealthily thrust a fifty rupees

note into her hand as he said, “Arrange milk for your children.” 

Sakeena quietly looked at him. “Take it as loan now. When Hashmat

comes, return it.” No matter how illiterate or unlettered a woman, she

is adept at reading the hunger in the eyes of men and males too easily

read the sense of insecurity in the eyes of women. Both read the message in the eyes of one another. Sakeena took the currency note of 

rupees fifty into her hand. It is said that one should not take a long

look even at the apron of a woman, for it creates sexual urge in one's

heart. Women who adorn white shawl and cover themselves with black

clothes actually encourage sexual intimacy. Whenever Sakeena went out,

she took white shawl and adorned black  veil and walked in a gait that

showed her chest forward, waist swinging and hands freely wading

through air like swords.... When Hashmat did not return the following

week too, Sakeena rushed to Maulana swinging her sword-like-hands. His

breathing stopped as he stood stultified...Oh God! The bathroom scene

came zooming before his eyes. Managing to breathe a little free after

much effort, he opened the betel-nut pairing casket used for

foretelling things. “Have patience...the traveller would be here in

three days...!” As a matter of fact, Hashim returned within three days

and brought money too. Sakeena was overjoyed. They feasted on pulao and

chicken. Maulana too relished chicken leg pieces. For the first time

that day Sakeena came before Maualana in the presence of Hashim.

“Maulana Saheb! Bring him such an amulet this time that he does his

work here itself...” “Men will have to go out in search of livelihood.”

Maulana smiled. “But he goes away unannounced and takes months to

return.” Sakeena said, remonstrating amorously. Maulana gave him an

amulet with engravings. It had three perpendicular and three horizontal

strands. One should know that, like private parts, eyes, too, keep

breeding.... Maulana was unable to forget the spectacle he had

witnessed in the bathroom and as Sakeena kept presenting herself to him

again and again with her swinging swords, the image kept hovering. God

provides sugar to the sugar-addict. Hashmat once again went away

unannounced and she rushed to him for his ask him to

open his magical betel-nut pairing. This time the traveller was caught

in a knot somewhere. “It's difficult to say where and in which

condition he is...?” A deep imprint of insecurity surfaced on her face.

Maulana changed the topic. “You had cooked wonderfully well the other

day.” “Maulana Saheb! This money that he brings is not auspicious, it

does not bring prosperity.” “Keep the conscience clean. There will be

prosperity.” “He earns a lot, but squanders away everything.” “Keep a

control.” “How to control him...? He has developed such a bad habit of

gambling...all that he earns goes into this...and when there is no

money, he sells household items...” “This is a bad thing.” Maulana

said, running his hand on his long flowing beard. “Please give him an

amulet that it really rids him of this habit of gambling.” “I'll, God

willing...” Maulana did not give her any amulet then, but certainly

burdened her with more loan as he thrust a fifty rupees note into her

hand, “keep it.” Sakeena smiled quietly. Women do not smile for

nothing...taking the currency note into her hand, she whispered. “Come

to the house at noon.” Maulana felt a shiver down his spine....somehow

she whispered softly,” come to the house at the house...!”

Where there is plentiful stock of beauty on offer there will be the

partakers of it... Maulana reached the house of Sakeena. There was

complete solitude in the house. Sakeena was combing her hair. When a

woman is alone, she has the company of Satan. Seeing Maulana there, the

Satan smiled. “Where are the rest of the people?” Maulana queried.

“They have gone for the prayer.” “Where?” “At the lawyer's house.” The

Satan made him sit on the cot inside. “For two hours no one will be

here.” Sakeena smiled. “Is that why you called me at this hour?”

Maulana too smiled. “No one comes to my room.” And yet, he did not seem

fully assured. He looked a little worried. “Even if someone came in,

I'll show you out through the secret door...” “Secret door...?” Maulana

was surprised. Satan showed him the secret door. There was a small room

adjacent to this room and the door of that small room opened into a

lane which was scarcely used by anyone. It was bolted from the other

side. It's important to know that the saplings of sexual urge have been

planted on human hearts. One finds samples of wolfish joy in it. And

the real moment for which the Satan waited had not arrived yet....

Sakeena had cooked chicken delicacies. She had made parathas too. The

food was more delicious this time. Maulana licked his fingers. Sakeena

bent down to pick plates and other things up. The images flashed before

the eyes of Maulana....the waist swinging like flower laden

branches...and rhythmically vibrating buttocks... Satan was waiting for

this very moment. He keeps planting seeds of sexual cravings in the

hearts of mankind. He planted the seed and Maulana caught the hand of

Sakeena.... “Sit for a while...let's do some talking...!” “Let me keep

the utensils.” Sakeena replied with a seductive gesture. The cup of

patience, full up to the brim, was now spilling over. When Sakeena

returned after keeping the utensils, he pulled her by her hand.

Spreading a seductive smile, Sakeena threw herself on the bed. Satan

had vanished. He had done his job. Maulana made love...went home...went

to the bath.... Maulana was not unaware that his relation with

Sakeena... Hashmat spent most of time in gambling dens or in smuggling

activities. Maulana defended him with caution and instilled the fear of

Shariat in the family. Sakeena no longer took the help of betel-nut

pairings to make enquiries about him. She was at peace with her life

and Maulana too was having a jolly good time. Every day was a festive

day and every night a night of amorous joy. One of the deadly side

effects of lust is that it breeds crime. If a man indulging in it did

not steady himself in the initial stages, then he is gone forever.  And

Maulana felt the urge a second time...He had barely risen from his seat

after taking a sumptuous meal when Sakeena held him by his hand and

said peering into his eyes,” Maulana Saheb!” Maulana was floored. ‘Oh,

God...! What a seductive pose...what a coquetry...? Never did she

present herself in this manner in the past...?' Sakeena put a finger on

her nose, smiled and swung her waist as she said,” even though I have

two men, there is no nose-ring for me.” ‘Two men...?” Maulana was

floored...'I am one man...Hashmat is another...where this nose-ring can

be had from...?' Never in his lifetime did he buy any nose-ring. That

too of gold. Wife did not adorn nose-ring. She adorned nose-pendant.

Right in the middle of the nose, a silver nose-pendant... Wife was a

religious woman but finicky...when she would come to bed, she would go

into a spell as if reading from a scripture seeking eternal forgiveness

and Maulana realized that while Sakeena was full of zest, wife was

stolid. Maulana went to a goldsmith and bought a nose-ring for rupees

one hundred and fifty. He kept it in the match-box and went to Sakeena.

They were seated in the courtyard. Rahmat Ali...Begum Rahmat Ali and

her first man too...The first man brought a chair from inside for the

second man. Sakeena was fetching water from the hand-pump. The second

man stealthily showed the match box to her giving sufficient hint about

the nose-ring in it. She smiled and on the pretext of lighting up oven

she came to him to borrow his match-box.  Maulana extended the

match-box to her. Instead of going to the kitchen with the match-box,

she went to her room... Women are at the cause of most of the wily

things. A new wile was born. Rahmat Ali was picked up by the police.

Hashmat too was sent to jail. Sakeena like an injured viper kept fuming

seated in the courtyard. Maulana too shivered. The net was spread by

the Satan. Hashmat had grown into a careless wanderer. He had no money

for gambling. His eyes had sighted the nose-ring. He kept pestering her

for it. She was not the one to oblige him. This led to bickering.

“Where did you bring it from? Never saw it earlier?” “I saved money

from the daily expenses. I bought it as I wanted to have one.” “But

it's my money.” “No.” “Give it me.” “Never.” “I'll get you another one

later.” “Sell domestic items.” Hashmat got wild. “Why will you not

give?” “Why will I give you?” “I need it.” “Why should I give you my

personal things?” “Have you brought it from your parents'?” “Don't

abuse me.” Sakeena too got wild. Hashmat pounced on her and pulled the

nose-ring. Sakeena cried in pain. She was bleeding from her nose.

Hashmat ran away with the ring. Sakeena fell down on the floor and

began to cry hoarse. “I have been robbed...I am ruined...” Rahmat Ali

came running and seeing him around Sakeena began to cry louder

still,”...the bastard has robbed me....may he go putrid.” Hearing such

cuss words for his son Rahmat Ali too got angry. “Why are you shrieking

like mad?” Sakeena's shriek became more piercing and violent.

“Yes...yes...I have gone mad...beat me both father and son...beat

me...” With both her hands she kept beating her chest. Rahmat Ali got

worried. Begum Rahmat Ali was watching the spectacle from the verandah.

When Sakeen's eyes fell on her, she threw her slipper towards her and

cried,” you wretched termagant woman...has it given solace to your

heart...?” Begum Rahmat Ali rushed back into her room. Sakeena was

wailing for a while and then went to the police station to lodge a

complaint. “He smuggles marijuana. When I objected to it, he beat me up

badly and scampered away with my ornaments.” Police came. It recovered

a bag from the house that contained marijuana. Hashmat Ali was

absconding. Rahmat Ali was present and the contraband was found in the

house. Police seized the contraband and put Rahmat Ali in the lock-up.

After an hour Hashmat too was taken in. When the news spread, Maulana

came rushing. Begum Rahmat Ali was sobbing bitterly in her room. Some

neighbouring women had gathered round her. Sakeena was still fuming by

herself in the courtyard. Maulana went to the police station. Clutching

his head down, Rahmat Ali was in the prison. Seeing Maulana, he burst

into tears. “God had to show this day?” “Everything will be all right.”

Maulana tried to console him. But it was difficult to be all right. The

officer in charge was demanding rupees five thousand. “This is too

much.” Maulana was aghast. “Crime committed is also serious.” “What is

the fault of Rahmat Saheb? He could be let off.” “It is his fault

only.” The officer in charge smiled. “How come?” “You have come for

him.” “Yes.” “The boy is a useless fellow. You haven't come for him?”

“Yes.” “Then the price must be paid.” “Please make some concession...”

Maulana pleaded. “Is it not a shameful matter that an elderly man

should be locked up for a crime as heinous as smuggling?” “It's

terrible.” “Then the price...?” Maulana returned, lost and

disappointed. The following day Sakeena smuggled him in from the secret

door. There was complete quietude in the house. Begum Rahmat Ali had

taken refuge at one of her neighbours' house. It was dark in the room.

Verandah was lit up dim light. Children were asleep at the farthest end

of the cot. “What was the need for doing all this...?” Maulana said

complainingly. “He took my nose-ring.” Sakeena said, crying

inconsolably. “What of that? I would have brought you another piece...”

“You are also faulting me only...” She began to sob again. “Oh,

don't...!” She flung into his bosom and closed her eyes. He felt

Sakeena was in tension. “He pulled it forcibly from my nose.” She said,

sobbing inconsolably. “Is a cruel fellow...!” Maulana tenderly fondled

her nose. Then planted a kiss and said,” I'll bring you another one.”

“Question does not arise.” “Why not? When I will bring it, the matter

will be the same.” “That was my first wish first

gift...I would have carried it to my grave...” “Just forget that...”

“How can I forget that...?” Still sobbing, she moved closer still.

“There is no point in grieving so much...” Sakeena's eyes began to

close... Begum Rahmat Ali had some gold in the form of bangles. With

the sale proceeds, Rahmat Ali was freed, but it was long after ten days

that Hashmat was released. No one said anything to Sakeena anymore.

Hashmat continued to be what he was. Major part of his day was spent in

gambling and on occasions he remained traceless for days. Maulana had

all his fingers in the pie and his head in the cauldron. He now

traversed through the main door. Well, the consequences of sexual

craving are infinite... One day he felt the door had become narrow. He

had just returned after delivering the Friday prayer and was relaxing.

Sakeena's head was resting on his chest and he was rolling his hand on

her hips. Sakeena was combing his hair with her fingers when she

suddenly remembered a story of a bandit. There was a bandit. He used to

plunder at night and during the day time he remained in the guise of a

hermit. A stranger once escaping the dragnet of bandits came to his

hermitage with a bundle in which he had collected all his cash and

valuables. “Maharaj! I am pursued by bandits. Please keep this bundle

with you. I will return to take it when the fear of bandits abates.” He

kept the bundle. After a few days the stranger returned to take

possession of the bundle of his wealth. The saint handed over the

bundle to him and also sent some of his men to escort him safely to his

place of abode. This surprised the fellow bandits no end. “Sardar! Why

did you return his treasure?” “He has faith in saints. It's important

to protect this faith...otherwise sustainability of religion will be

endangered.” “Faith....? ...religion will be endangered...?” “Maulana

Saheb!” Sakeena suddenly seemed to have awakened from a reverie. Her

voice was stern....Maulana startled. “What's that?” “You resign your

priestly position.” “Why?” “It doesn't look good.” “What doesn't look

good?” “It's not a good thing for a priest doing all this.” “Why?” “You

are Imam...the community follows you as you say prayers for them and

this misdeed of yours?” “My misdeed...? And what about your

misdeed...?” Maulana got angry. “I am bad...people think I am bad. But

you are Imam.” “What if I am Imam?” “People think you are good. It is

important to protect this image of good.” “I am safe because I am Imam.

If I become common man, life will become difficult.” “If Imam indulges

in such activities, faith in Islam will get impaired...religion will

get endangered.” “Stop these talks.” Maulana changed the topic and

enveloped Sakeena into his bosom. “That is why I ask you to resign the

priestly position.” Sakeena said as she was being squeezed into him.

“Come on, drop it now...” “Become a common man and do whatever you want

to do.” “All right.” He leaned downwards on her, drawing his lips

towards hers. Sakeena loosened her body as she surrendered...but that

day it occurred to him that Sakeena too was stolid like his wife.

Maulana was now beginning to see sparks of fire in her

eyes...particularly on those days when he would return after saying

prayers at burials. Sakeena would stand firmly. “Won't you resign...?”

“Why should I resign...?” Maulana would say irritatingly. “Will Imam do

such heinous things?” His blood would begin to boil on this occurred to him that he too should chastise her,' ...and

what are you doing, bloody slut?' But looking at the defiance of the

slut, he could not speak anything. He was rendered speechless. He had

to tackle her diplomatically. “If I resign people will get suspicious.”

“One day they will come to know.” Sakeena continued to stand in the

defiant posture. Maulana had no answer and she would burst out again.

Fingers were now getting burnt in the pie and the head was now firmly

in the mortar. Sakeena was relentlessly pounding him with pestle.

Maulana would remain silent. But the mercury was rising by and by.

“Isn't it strange that men like you should lead the prayer at the

burial...?” “If religion is getting denigrated at all places it is

because the likes of you are at the helm.” “If during life time one did

not get the right prayer, it should at least be available on death.”

Maulana could take it no longer and he rushed out of the room. One day

it crossed all limits... During the act of sexual intercourse, Sakeena

recalled the story again. She at once sat up. “Will you resign or not?”

What the hell it is? Will you resign or not? Was this the appropriate

moment for this kind of question? In this moment of ecstasy when things

were reaching the crescendo, what's the meaning of asking for the

resignation of an Imam? Maulana was peeved. Sakeena had stood up in a

mood of defiance...she had her hands on her hips and her eyes were

showering fire and brimstone.... “This is clearly a case of cheating

the sect...” “Do you think that those saying their prayers after you

will have the satisfaction of their prayers being answered...” Maulana

was bristling with rage. ‘Bloody slut of a woman...!' Murmuring this he

raced out of the room.


Maulana's visits became less frequent. But how could blanket have

deserted him. Sakeena began visiting him off and on, spent hours

giggling and gossiping with his wife. Maulana avoided her gaze. In her

eyes he saw only one commandment—resign the priesthood...resign the

priesthood... And it exploded one day. Sakeena announced that she was

pregnant. She was happy if it was a son she would make him a scholar.

Maulana was stunned to hear the news...what if it became public that

....? But he was not going to take it quietly. “What's proof that it's

my child?” Hatred too at times brings sparkle in eyes. Sakeena's eyes

sparkled and intensified. “You may rest assured. No matter whose child,

it will be known by mother's name when it is born...” And then with a

vitriolic smile, she said, “woman is born from the bone marrow of men

because she is ordained to keep his shortcomings under wrap, but what

to do with the shortcomings of an Imam...?” “If I give up my

priesthood, people will suspect me. So long as I am Imam, no one will

dare to raise fingers.” “Veils are destined to fall off one day or the

other.” Sakeena spoke like a philosopher. “Terminate the relationship.”

Maulana's voice conveyed a sense of boredom. “What?” Sakeena looked

askance at him. “What was in the heart came out on the lips...isn't

it?” “I was joking.” Maulana smiled. “But I am not joking. Hear it loud

and clear, if you do not resign the priesthood, the consequences will

be dire.” “And hear this too...I'll give birth to this child and will

name it Kudartullah Warsi...” It now occurred to the Maulana that

Sakeena's firm buttocks symbolized her firm determination...the bulging

breasts...the swinging arms in the manner of sword...roving eyes like

those of a hawk...? Such women do not easily drop anchor. If Sakeena

says she will educate her child in the religious school...she will also

find a similar sounding word to name the child...and what if the child

took after him...? Maulana felt a shiver down his spine...traces of a

priest acquiring shape in the embryo of a slut...? Finding him silent,

Sakeena's eyes flashed sparks of intense hatred. “It is important to

maintain the sanctity of the priesthood of an Imam.” She surveyed him

from head to foot with utter contempt and said disdainfully, ‘Imam like

you...? Huh!' And she went out of the room. She did not spit on the

floor while going out of the room, but it appeared to the Maulana that

the slut had spat outside. “Bloody bitchy piece...!” Thereafter the

visits became a rarity. Sakeena too had become a little indifferent. If

on occasions they happened to meet, they barely looked at one another,

that too in silence. Maulana looked forlorn and Sakeena's eyes hardly

ever evinced any interest. Even then the spark had not completely ebbed

out. It seemed as if the fire still crackled within. There was no one

in the house one day. The inmates had gone to a marriage party. Sakeena

was all by herself. It had been long since she had met the Maulana. She

was toying with the idea of visiting him when he made the appearance.

Sakeena bloomed like flower. “If I were to ask God for any gift now, it

would have been bestowed on me.” “How come?” “I was going to meet you.”

“Where the rest of them have gone?” “Have gone to a marriage...will

return by tomorrow.” “Oh great...!” Maulana proclaimed his glee. “You

have become invisible like the Moon of Eid.” “You have forgotten me.”

Maulana said with a mild tweak on her cheek. “Move aside...” Sakeena

swung away from him. Maulana tried to grab her, but she pushed him

aside, wriggled out and said smilingly, “unfaithful...!” He grabbed her

by her waist and pulled her closer. “You are unfaithful.” “Why should I

be that?” He tried to kiss her, but Sakeena blocked it, shoved his face

away and said with a swagger: “Where were you all these days...?” “I

used to come every day.” “Not to me.” “You were angry.” “Liar.” Maulana

again tried to kiss her.  Sakeena released her body loose this time.

“Go after dinner,” seemingly trying to wriggle herself out of his grip,

she said. This time he planted a long smooch and said,” will come after

leading a prayer.” “Will wait.” Sakeena too smiled. Maulana bid her

good-bye as he left. Sakeena cooked biryani and stewed kebab. She had a

long cleansing bath and put on dark linen on herself, applied collyrium

in her eyes and tinged her teeth with powder, polished her nail, tied

anklets to her feet and freed the locks on her head. She stood before a

mirror and surveyed her body from the opposite angles... Her long hair

was spread out on her mien and downwards....dark linen around her

waistline had soaked some of the dampness provided by the dripping

water from hair. Powdered teeth between her bluish black lips were

visible like some dark precious stones, the eyes were twinkling like

stars and her face was lit up like a freshly drenched rose. Maulana

made his entry through the secret door. Looked at Sakeena and stood

stultified and these words flowed out of his mouth: “Good Heaven!” “Who

are you going to kill with these munitions?” Maulana tried to grab her,

but she moved away in style. Untended hair on her mien made a sudden

movement...then she stood erect...and the bulge of her breast became

distinctly visible, looked sideways at him and said, “It is better to

kill a beast before it devours you...” Maulana smiled, took the hand of

Sakeena and pulled her into his bosom. She came in sudden contact with

his chest and her bangles made a jingling sound. Maulana wanted to

crush her into his bosom...she wriggled to extricate her out and

Maulana realized that her hips were more curvy than he had thought.

“Why are you so impatient, my lord...? Have your dinner first...”

Sakeena said smilingly. “First of all I'll eat you as my dinner.”

Maulana said sheepishly. “By all means eat me, but don't eat the

community.” Maulana's eye-brows straightened up....bloody slut...

Swinging her shapely hips she went into the kitchen and Maulana kept

staring at the movement of her buttocks... She returned and served the

food...biryani...korma...kofta...kebab. “You are being very formal and

methodical tonight, my love...never in the past did you do this.” “The

lordship too has come after a long recess.” “I hope this will not the

last dinner.” Maualan smiled...the smile was meaningful. In reply

Sakeena too smiled, but said nothing. Sakeena felt Maulana was in a

thoughtful mood...did not seem to relish eating. “Didn't like the

food?” Sakeena asked and brought stuffed and folded betel-leaf in a

silver tray duly covered with a layering. “Liked food all right, but

how to consume betel?” “Why?” “Then how will I kiss you?” Sakeena

looked at him with her half-ope eyes. He took her into his arms and

carried her to the bed while Sakeena kept wriggling...finally she too

relented and shut her eyes in surrender. ‘When I saw you the first time

in the bath...these solid curvy butts'...and then he softly began to

brush her butt with his flowing beard....gil...gil...gil... Sakeena

squealed and laughed. It tickled her no ends. “It tickles.” “It

tickles...? Bloody slut of a woman...” The sudden change in the tone of

his voice startled Sakeena. “The fault lies in your buttocks. If it

were not that curvy, there would not have been this problem...” Sakeena

tried to rise and sit up, but Maulana pressed her butts down with his

knees with all the force he could muster and took a strangle hold of

her neck with his hands...Sakeena shrieked and tried to

extricate....the shrieking sound from her were getting feeble and

horrific...Maulana put a pillow on her face and pressed hard to pin her

down....bloody will give birth to my child....resign the

priesthood...? Ooooh...oooh...oooh....Sakeena was shrieking and trying

her best to wriggle out of it, But the Maulana had applied all his

brute force, and was strangulating her... Sakeena's voice ebbed out

within her....her eyes bulged out from their sockets; tongue screwed

out of her mouth....blood seeped out of mouth and nose spilling over

the pillow... Maulana looked about himself....was anything left in the

room....? His cap lay on the table. He put it back on his head...the

betel tray was also close by. The betel was shining as the light from

the bulb was falling on it. Maulana's lips recorded a poisonous smile

that contained the elements of his egoistic satisfaction. “Bloody

bitch!” Maulana took the betel into his mouth as he hatefully muttered

something and went out through the secret door.


Click Here for more stories by Shamoil Ahmad