He was not a guy that anyone can easily forget. He was handsome; dashing as the ladies say. Perfect body. You know the ones you see in biology books that show the human anatomy. Always smiling. And the smile that bastard had. Charmed every girl that crossed his path. So basically speaking the type of guys you see in commercials. Oh sorry... his name was Omar, Omar Sayir. He was my batch mate... how I envied him
Don’t
be judgmental about me. Every guy hated him. Believe me... all girls fell for
him, all of them; yeah he was that good looking. Reading in a government
engineering college where there is always a scarcity of good (read hot) looking
girls and full of girls with hair gone astray and wearing specks like binoculars,
he always got the creamy layer. All the girls talked about was how handsome he
was, how charming he is and other bullshit. Pardon my language... just thinking
about those days gives me the willies...
Well
back to the story then, (you know before you start thinking I am gay) I was in
love... she was a branch mate, Meghna. Beauty redefined. A bit short in height.
Always wearing heels too big for her. I had eyes for no one else... no, she was
my dream girl( yeah I am a filmy guy) just looking at her made my day. With all
friends maintaining counters as to how many times I looked at her, sneaking a peek at her was same as solving the
Fourier equation ( I flunked Maths III). With the guys (read bastards) hovering
like hawks around me, just a look at her was all that made me tolerate the
boring classes in the college...her eyes, her hair... straight and smooth....
She
was in love with Omar. I didn’t exist for her. Well no guy existed for her
except him. So u see why i hated the guts of Omar. I hated him more because he
didn’t love her back. What’s wrong with
u man, I used to think. How could anyone not like her? She was lovely,
intelligent and smarter than most of the girls combined in the class. Sorry I am
getting sentimental; after all she was my girl (at least that’s what I
convinced myself to think... looser me)
It’s
not a story about a love triangle... its way different than that.
Omar
was a nice guy. Very helpful. He was the cool dude of our class; very good in
studies. He was friends with everyone. All craved to be in his company. He was
a fun guy, shared the casual cigarette with us, drank with us, made fun of the
Profs with us, jumped into the bay of Bengal with us. He was a friend any one
would dream of. I though maintained some
distance with him; after all she had the heart of my Meghna. I sometimes felt bad.
He also knew that I avoided him because of Meghna. He always said” Arre yaar
mera us me koi interest nahi hai... she is all yours”. It was earnest but I didn’t’
feel comfortable around him. Yeah I was that jealous.
It
was like nothing could go wrong with him; like his world is perfect. How wrong I
was.
You
see he was never religious. That guy didn’t have time for religion. He was too
busy living life, king size. But he transformed somehow in him in our pre final
year. His mother suddenly fell ill during our 5th semester exam. He
left for home immediately. Fortunately his mother recovered. I don’t know the
details but the event changed him somehow. When he came back he was different. Different
than the Omar we knew. It seemed that the smile had left his face. Like
forever. He was always serious then on, never joking and shying away from all
social gatherings. We thought it was the studies taking a toll on him. He
hadn’t appeared 3 subjects in the 5thsemester exams. So he had to
appear 9 subjects in the 6th semester exam. Meghna was very upset
about it.
It
all started when everyone noticed that he wasn’t cutting his beard any more. No
more French cuts, no more goatees. But instead he started growing his beard like
a Mullah u see in the movies. When we asked he just smiled, avoided the
question and left. He gave up smoking and drinking. He had suddenly become
religious, and religious like a fanatic. He started leaving the classes at odd
times without any explanations. Nobody knew why. One day i had bunked a class
and was about to return to the class when I saw Omar running up the stairs. I
followed him. I couldn’t help it. I got up the stairs panting (I weigh 85 kilos...
and don’t smile). I saw that he was sitting on the roof knee bended on a sheet
of cloth with a skull cap on his head and praying. I felt uncomfortable and embarrassed.
I retraced my steps and went back to the classroom. After sometime Omar
returned to the class. He gave me a weird smile...did he know?
Things started getting weirder and weirder. Generally
we guys don’t talk but rather swear all the time (yeah I see the smile on your
face). Fuck this fuck that and the usual favourite local slangs. But Omar
didn’t find them funny anymore. He started lecturing us more and more about not
using the slangs and how they are derogatory (as if we didn’t know). Some
laughed, others sweared more and left. Day by day his antics started getting
worse. He started rebuking us for making fun of the teachers, talking about
girls (you know the other type of talking), drinking habits, hell even for
listening to music. He was all about this is good and this is bad, this is
moral, this is immoral. He started giving us examples from Quran, their holy
text. In short he started becoming insufferable. Guys started avoiding him,
girls started avoiding him and even teachers started avoiding him. Meghna
looked at him desperately, seeking answers....
I
had to find the answers. If not for myself then for her.
I
tentatively asked Shahid, another of my batch mate. He was a Muslim. I asked
him why Omar was behaving like this. He didn’t speak for the next few minutes. Finally
with a tinge of guilt he said”Yar ye hamare religion me normal hai”. But I was
adamant ”You don’t have a beard.. u don’t go around giving us lecture about what
pleases or displeases Allah..”. He said according to their holy scriptures when
a Muslim boy comes of age then he must stop cutting his beard, stop smoking,
drinking or any type of amusement and stuff like that. He should even stop listening
to music and lead a devout and pious life. But I said” Arre uski umar hi kitni
hai. Don’t you do these stuff when u grow old or something”. He said a bit
guiltily that according to the scriptures whenever the person starts feeling
religious he should start doing it. He couldn’t explain any further; maybe he
didn’t want to. I sat there confused. Shahid left, a bit shaken himself.
Omar
started wearing plain kurta and payjama to the college. No more ripped jeans,
no more funky t-shirts. He started avoiding one and all. His grades dipped
drastically. I heard that all he was doing at home was reading the scriptures. He
started missing classes.” Kya hoga class karke... jo sab tehezeeb bachon ko
padhana chaiye wo to padhate nahi hai” he said. His attendance started falling.
But not body cared anymore. They all started avoiding him.
I
couldn’t bear the look on Meghna’s face...I just couldn’t. She would desperately
try to talk with him, share her feelings with him, but he avoided her supremely.
Once upon much bothering by Meghna Omar said angrily” Arre hume maaf kar do...
hame tumse kuch baat nahi karnahai”. She was really hurt. When nobody was
watching she wiped the sole tear running down her face... the way her beautiful
eyes craved for him. But i watched and I just couldn’t bear. I did the most
stupidest thing a guy could ever do. I wrote her a mail( yeah its hopelessly
romantic and stupid). I explained the situation about Omar and asked her to forget
him. When I reached the college the next day she confronted me in front of the
class and spewed all the ugly things that a girl holding her decency can say. “How
could i say such a thing about Omar... how could I be so jealous” she said (yeah
she knew about my feeling towards her). She stormed out of the room. All I was
left was a sore toe I got from kicking the table in front of me.
After
the 7th semester exam Omar stopped coming to college. He was nowhere
to be seen. Well frankly speaking nobody cared enough to track him down. Some
of his friends tried to contact him but without any result. He had long shunned
his mobile phone. He was unreachable. permanently. After a few month his
friends gave up trying to contact him. He was lost forever. But I had him in the
back of my mind, always. How could I forget him... the handsome dude, the cool
guy of our class. The guy who was the star of Meghna’s eyes. The guy in ripped
jeans turned mullah.
I didn’t see him for 6 months. I had just
finished the 4 years in captivity and finally got out with a job in hand (TCS
guys.. nothing more). I was in my home town Cuttack. Few days were left before
my joining. I was passing through the crowed road in Buxi Bazaar when suddenly
my eyes caught sight of a guy. A young guy in blue kurta payjama with long
black beard, a skull cap on his head and beads of rosary in his hand entering
the Moinudin Chisti Jama Masjid, a well known masjid in Cuttack. I stopped my
bike. Could it be Omar? I parked my bike and followed him inside. I stood in
the corner while hundreds of Muslims did their namaz. Some of them stared at
me. But my eyes were locked on the guy in the blue kurta. Yes...he was Omar. But
not the Omar Sayir I knew from college days. He was unrecognizable. With the
foot long black beard I bet none of my classmates would have recognized him. i
recognized him though. I was in one way or the other always looking for him. I
was so obsessed with him. The namaz had ended. I had stood too long in the same
spot for Omar had recognized me. With a big smile on his face he came up to me
and embraced me.” Aur sab thik chal raha hai to dost” I could not utter a word.
I was too startled to talk after seeing him after so long and him recognizing me. I somehow
muttered him some incoherent words.
All
he did was smile. He accompanied me to the exit of the masjid. He told me all
about his life after college, how he had started feeling suffocated in the
polluted environment of the college and after sometime how he couldn’t take it
anymore. How he came in contact with Mullah Sahir ji and how he had changed his
way of life for good. How he had arranged a job for him in the masjid. He now
lives in a small cottage in Shekh Bazar, a Muslim locality in Cuttack. He was
living alone. He taught small kids Urdu in their home as it was a duty he had
to perform according to Quran. His mother had also moved in with him to and was
looking for a nice Muslim girl for him. He had twinkle in his eyes and the
smile of a happy man. He then suddenly remembered something from the long
forgotten days and asked me with enthusiasm” Aur bhai Meghna kaisi hai? tumhara
aur uska kuch hua?? I could see a flicker of the old Omar in his deep dark
eyes, for however short time it may be. it tore my heart just remembering her. Pain
and anger burst out through the imaginary walls I had created to block her from
my memory. All I could say was” Nahi”. “Bahut achi ladki thi. Khuda kare usse
koi acha sa sohar mil jae” he said oblivious to my pain. I offered to drop him home
but he said that he had to sweep and clean the masjid. It was his duty in the
masjid. I bid him farewell and rode off in my bike. I looked back... there was
the Omar I knew from the college days waving his hands with all the vigor and
enthusiasm, the Mullah in ripped jeans. The traffic light turned green. I
couldn’t turn back anymore....
I
sat down by the river Mahanadi thinking. All my repressed anger towards Omar, Meghna,
religion, fanaticism was slowly melting away. I had been very angry for a very long
time. If religion was supposed to make our lives simple and comfortable the how
could it turn a fun and adventure loving guy like Omar into something that he
was today. He was just a cool 20 year old guy starting to live his life. He
would have graduated, got a job, worked his ass off for a company, one or two
love affairs, would have spent his salaries on parties and drinks. Would have married
a beautiful girl. But no, he was a strict and a pious Muslim now, wearing
nothing other than kurta and payjama. No enjoyments, no music, no telling lies...
no nothing. He had turned 40 in the age of 20. How he had lost the innocence of
his age. And Meghna. Why the hell couldn’t see anything beyond him. Am I that
bad...didn’t I deserve any of her love... was I that invisible. But today when
i saw Omar I now think differently. He is happy. He may not go to parties or
spend his money on booze or women, but he was happy. He was happy living in the
small cottage in Shekh Bazaar with his mother and teaching Urdu to small kids. He
would say his namaz 5 times a day...he would clean the masjid everyday...he
would count the beads of his rosary but he would be happy. Maybe he was more
happy than he would have been in a job maybe more happy than i would ever be. Isn’t
that what life is all about, being happy. No I didn’t envy him anymore.
My
mind was free again. A load had been lifted off my chest. I felt lighter. With
the breeze from river Mahanadi setting in and the dusk approaching the surroundings
looked surreal. I took out my phone...I pressed M and then I pressed E... Meghna...
I pressed dial. I waited with bated breaths... someone picks up...”Hello”...it’s
Meghna...my girl...”Hello Meghna”... ”Gourav... hi... how are you............
15 comments:
please post comments... i really want people to read this story... i would really appreciate some useful comments. :)
Awesum One dude!!!!! Can't stop thinking about it even after 4 hrs so wanted to post this comment... live long and prosper!!!! V!!!
Thanks a lot bhai!!... comment coming from you...a big deal! :)
the character of Omar really makes u contemplate abt life...kudos..
@The Death Lord : Yeah you can never fully understand the source of happiness and joy for someone.
its very good n touching...grt job...
@Ekankika Kumari.. Thanks!! :)
really gud 1 re n sm hw real .
ne ways wt next...... aftr dat hello???????????
@vhkjg .. thanks for reading. and thats for you to decide wat happens after the hello. :)
senti kar diya yaar.good one i have ever heard...
@samir kumar: thanks man for reading.
A good story indeed.It is the search for a deeper meaning to life that we give up what is considered to be conventional.It is an undeniable truth of life that in pursuit of our true call, we end up hurting as well as getting hurt by the people whom we love the most.
@Chiranjib: Thanks man for your thoughts. Appreciate it. True Call.. indeed the one thing that truly defines us, provided we answer to it.
Appreciable writing. Ending was the best. And to think it might have been true(at least some of it) makes it even more interesting...
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