PART 17:
Disclaimer: As Asad has come home for Eid, I have included some references to Ramadan and Eid. Please forgive me if I have made any errors as I am not a Muslim. My knowledge is based on information gathered from some of my Muslim friends. Feel free to correct me too…
Ek chand ke dedar ke liye?jo hum mahine bhar tarse
mubarak ho aapko eid ki yeh khushiyan
jinse aapke jeevan me khuda ke hathon
khushi ke itne phool barse?
Asad was up early next morning. It was Eid today; his favorite time of the year. As he stretched and let the morning rays through the curtains, he looked up in the sky, "hmm, looks a little cloudy today. Aaj ke din baarsih nahin honi chaahiye. Mumbai ki monsoons ka koi bharosa nahin."
He jumped out of bed and had a quick shower. Even though he was an adult now, Eid morning always brought back pleasant memories of childhood- the morning excitement, getting dressed in new clothes, going to the mosque with other male relatives, distributing charity to the needy (fitra), prayers and 'Eid Mubarak' embraces at the mosque, return home to a big breakfast and then the Eidi- the gifts! He still looked forward to the whole routine of gift giving and teasing.
The routine was still the same, except he usually went to the mosque alone or with some friends from the neighborhood. Since his father had departed, other men relatives had also vanished from their lives- some voluntarily and others at Dilshaad's reluctance to stay in touch with them.
After dressing up in a deep blue kurta and white pyjama, he wrapped the gifts he had purchased for ammi and Najma. The extra watch the shopkeeper had managed to sell, lay on the bed, unwrapped- a gentle reminder to him that there was another person at home this Eid. He picked the watch, stared at its beautiful sea blue dial and silver band.
"Will Ms. Farooqui like this? Agar maine unhein yeh gift diya, tho wo kahin galat na samajh baithe." He recalled her words from last night- she was in Mumbai because of him. PERIOD. There was no more ambiguity and even though he had sensed her feelings for him on the cruise, silently he had wished they were just fleeting and impulsive emotions that affluent American brats often harbored after meeting strangers on their vacations. He had misjudged her. Just like him, even she had not forgotten their time on the cruise.
Still indecisive, he left the watch unwrapped in his closet.
While the women were still getting ready, Asad left for the morning prayers. A few men from the neighborhood joined him as they wished each other 'Eid Mubarak.'
"Eid Mubarak beta!" Dilshaad, dressed in a beautiful green salwaar kameez greeted him at the door when he returned from the mosque.
"Eid Mubarak ammi," he gave her a hug as she kissed his forehead and blessed him, "beta, Allah tumhari har dua qubool kare aur tumhari zindagi khushiyon se bhar de."
"Eid Mubarak bhaijaan," an ecstatic Najma joined them in a family hug.
Asad pinched Najma's nose gently, "Allah se dua karta hoon ki agli Eid tak meri tamaatar ko koi aloo-kachaloo nikaah karke le jaaye."
"Aloo?" Najma's eyes popped, "bhaijaan, aloo nahin- tall, dark and handsome, lekin pehle ghar mein bhabhi aayegi, phir main chain se ghar chhod sakti hoon."
"Ghar chhodne ke liye kaun keh raha hai? Ghar jawai laayenge tamaatar ke liye." He teased her.
A loud chuckle from behind caught his attention. Dressed in a beautiful pink salwar kameez with her dupatta gently resting on her head, Zoya was laughing her head off at their conversation.
Her beauty and dimpled smile drew him in like a magnet. Asad couldn't take his eyes off her. He had always imagined her in traditional Indian clothes but he had no idea, she would look so ethereal.
"Eid Mubarak Mr. Khan," Zoya came forward and bowed gently in a salaam gesture.
"Uh-Oh-Wo-Ya- aapko bhi Eid Mubarak Ms-uh-Farooqui."
"Bhaijaan, I hope aap Zoya ke liye bhi Eidi laaye honge abki baar." Najma broke his trance.
"Uh-Wo-actually, bahut bhookh lagi hai. Can we all eat first?" He deflected Najma's question.
"Chalo chalo. Nashta karte hain sab," Dilshaad led the way to the dining table.
Halwa-puri, sheer korma, gulab jamun, kababs and fruit custard were spread out on the dining table.
After thanking Allah, the four of them enjoyed their traditional Eid breakfast. Dilshaad was in an unusually good mood that morning. While Asad stole surreptitious glances from Zoya, Dilshaad's eyes didn't miss the silent exchange between her son and their paying guest. Mesmerized by the pink mermaid, Asad could barely focus on his favorite Eid savories.
"Kya baat hai Asad, sheer korma achcha nahin banaa kya?" Dilshaad teased her son.
"Oh-wo-Ammi, bahut achcha banaa hai. I am really enjoying it. Waise aapki plate itni khali kyun hai ammi? Are you okay? Aapki tabiyat tho theek hai na?" He glanced at her near empty plate.
"Aaj khushi se hi pait bhar gaya," Dilshaad flashed a smile at Zoya, "it's so nice to have everyone at home. Aur Zoya ke aane se tho ghar bhara bhara lag raha hai."
"I am so glad main aap sab logon ke saath Eid manaa rahi hoon aaj," Zoya replied cheerfully, "warna US mein-you know phoophi I told you," she glanced at Asad, "abbu tho Eid par zyaada celebration karte nahin hain."
Asad gave her a quizzical look. From her version of her abbu, he had an image of a very traditional Muslim man who would probably go all out while celebrating religious festivals. Zoya understood his quandary, "wo Mr. Khan. We had a tragedy at home on Eid one year-iss liye," she lowered her head.
"Oh, I am sorry," Asad lowered his eyes. There was still a lot he didn't know about Zoya. She had sprung more surprises on him in Mumbai than in the Mediterranean.
After breakfast, Najma started her bhaijaan-Eidi-kab-milegi chant.
As always, he loved teasing his sister, "sorry tamatar, you know I was in Andaman this year. Wahan se sirf janwar ya phool patti laa sakta tha. Therefore, no Eidi this year.'
"KYA? NO BHAIJAAN! AAP MAZAAK KAR RAHE HAIN, HAINA?" Najma's face fell; she looked like a little girl who had been robbed of all her toys.
"Nahin tamaatar. Seriously; I had only two choices this year. Ya tho ghar aa jaata ya gifts le aata." Asad replied with a poker face. Zoya couldn't help chuckle at the brother sister banter. It had been a while since she had received a gift on Eid; she felt a lump in her throat as she recalled how her ammi used to gift her Eidi during her early childhood years.
"Kyun pareshan karte ho apni behen ko?" Dilshaad walked in from her room with three gifts, "chalo main hi pehle start karti hoon."
"One second phoophi!" Zoya interrupted, "I need to go to my college and pick something. Main abhi aayi."
"Arre, Eid ke din college? Aaj tho chutti hai."
"I know phoophi, but there is something special I made for all of you. Can I please go and pick it quickly? I will be back in 20 mins." Zoya picked her purse and ran out the door.
"Yeh ladki hai ya toofan? Asad was bewildered at her impulsive behavior, "she doesn't have any manners ammi! Yeh kya tehzeeb hai ki hum yahan ek tradition manaa rahe hain, and she just runs away? She expects us to sit around waiting for her?"
"Asad! Bechari ne kaha na, uske yahan Eid nahin manaate. Give her the benefit of the doubt. Aa jaayegi jaldi. Aur agar itna hi khayal hai tradition ka, tho you could have taken her to the college by car. Bechari paidal gayi hogi. Time tho lagega aane mein."
"Ammi! Bhaagne ki tho aadat hai unki." Asad replied absent mindedly, shaking his head.
"Aapko kaise pata bhaijaan?" Najma quipped.
"Oh-wo-well-she told me last night ki she runs on the New York mar-marathon every year," he pulled the collar of his kurta with his finger to avoid the choking sensation in his throat.
"Really? Wow! She is one talented girl bhaijaan!" Najma's eyes twinkled.
It had been more than an hour since Zoya had left the house. Silently but anxiously, the three of them waited for her return. The gifts on the coffee table were still wrapped. Asad's gifts for ammi and Najma had joined the others. He had not mustered courage to wrap a gift for Zoya.
To pass time, Asad turned the cricket match on the TV but his eyes were glued to the wall clock.
"Arre Najma, Asad, dekho bahar bearish bahut zor se ho rahi hai," Dilshaad peeped outside, "Zoya ka phone bhi nahin lag raha hai. She should have been home by now."
"Haan ammi," Najma held the phone next to her ear, "it says all circuits jammed."
"Asad, zara car mein jaakar usey le aao."
Asad was glued to the TV as thunder and lightning drowned ammi's voice. A newsflash caught his attention:
"AFTER THE 2005 FLOODS, THIS IS ONE OF THE WORST FLASH FLOODS IN MUMBAI. WE HAVE JUST RECEIVED REPORTS THAT PARTS OF MUMBAI ARE SUBMERGED UNDER 3-4 FEET OF WATER AS THE DRAINAGE SYSTEM HAS BEEN TOTALLY OVERWHELMED AND THE CELLULAR NETWORKS HAVE BEEN JAMMED BY THE AUTHORITIES. POWER OUTTAGES HAVE BEEN REPORTED IN VARIOUS PARTS OF THE CITY. PLEASE DO NOT HANDLE ANY LOOSE ELECTRIC WIRES OR ELECTRIC SWITCHES, AS THERE IS A RISK OF GETTING ELECTROCUTED. PLEASE STAY HOME AND IF YOU ARE STUCK SOMEWHERE, THE MUNICIPALITY IS SENDING ITS RESCUE CREWS ALL OVER THE CITY."
Without waiting for ammi or Najma's response to the news flash, Asad dashed out of the house with his car keys. To his horror, his car was submerged in water; only the roof and upper half of the windows were visible. People in the neighborhood were swimming or treading water as if in a river of dirty brown water. Screams of children and women were as deafening as the thunderous outpour from the skies.
"Oh no!" Asad recalled Zoya's escapades at sea, "she doesn't know how to swim. I bet she is stuck at the college."
He ran out into the street, the rain soaked his kurta within seconds. Walking was his only option; the water level kept rising as he walked away from home. Soon, he found himself swimming in the murky waters, a heavenly mix of Mumbai trash, sewage and rainwater.
He was stopped by a police truck, "pagal hai kya aadmi? Marna hai baarish mein? Jao ghar jao!" A policeman screamed at him from the window.
Asad ignored the warning and kept swimming.
"ROKO! SAALE KO MARNA HAI SHAYAD! BADA APNE AAP KO OLYMPIC SWIMMER SAMAJH RAHA HAI!" The truck splashed water on Asad's face as it sped and crossed his path.
The truck came to a halt in front of Asad. Asad looked up and introduced himself, "I AM AN OFFICER IN THE NAVY! NAVY MEIN KAAM KARTA HOON INSPECTOR SAHIB. RESCUE MISSION HAI!"
"Kya naam hai aapka?"
"COMMANDER ASAD AHMED KHAN! INS ANDAMAN!"
"Sorry sir. Can we give you a ride?"
"Jee, bahut meherbaani aapki. Mujhey JJ School of Art pahunchna hai."
"Wahan tho bahut paani bhara hai sir. Even hamara truck nahin jaa sakta."
Asad's worst fears came to life. Why was he not surprised? Water related crisis was Zoya's middle names by now. Dejected, he wiped his face and shook his head.
"Sir, agar wo building mein hain tho safe hain. Aapko kisi safe jagah drop kar dete hain."
"NAHIN!" Asad responded brusquely, "I CAN'T LEAVE HER THERE."
'SIR! SIR!" Before the cop could offer another suggestion, Asad had taken off again. His strong arms and legs swam as hard as he could. He was not alien to such situations but the person he needed to rescue raised his heartbeat and anxiety levels to a new high.
Finally, he reached the outskirts of the college campus. The buildings were all dark; perhaps the power was out like everywhere else. He treaded the water forcefully and reached the main door. The door was locked; the water level touched the lock pad making it impossible for him to force his way in.
He punched the door with full force but the surrounding water acted as a counterforce.
"Ya Allah! How do I reach her? Hope she is safe in the building and not on the street somewhere."
"HELP! HELP!" A woman's voice from a window caught his attention. She was waving what looked like a pink colored cloth from a few floors above. He couldn't see the face clearly in the rain and mist. He prayed to Allah, "let it be Ms Farooqui!"
He had only one option. Fortunately, the building still had old- fashioned drainpipes along the outer walls. Swiftly but carefully, he climbed up the pipe. Water had made the outer surface of the pipes very slippery but fortunately, the brick walls gave him enough traction to hold onto something whenever he found himself sliding downwards. The downward pressure from the rain also acted as a deterrent.
As he panted and struggled to climb onwards, he heard her distinctive screech from above, "MR. KHAN! MR. KHAN!"
He glanced towards the sky and then at the window above. It was her, waving her pink dupatta. Her glimpse was all he needed for the final impetus to traverse the two floors separating them. For him, that sight was equivalent to sighting the moon on Eid (Eid ka chaand).
As soon as he was within reach, she dangled her dupatta, "here you go Mr. Khan. Hold onto my dupatta and climb up." She tied the other end to the window frame and helped him climb the final few inches on the pipe.
They both fell with a thud on the floor as she pulled him upwards with her dupatta.
"OUCH!" She screamed as he landed on top of her. His rain soaked kurta saturated her within seconds. She held her breath as his weight crushed and drenched her body. For a few seconds, as he stared at her face, he forgot where he was, how exhausted he was and how wet and cold he was. Once again, she had managed to distract him from his mission.
"MR. KHAN!" She tried to push him away.
"Are you okay?" He rolled off and touched her face.
She caught her breath and panted, "I am fine Mr. Khan, lekin aap? Itni baarish mein yahan? Mujhey lene? I am so touched Mr. khan."
"Jee nahin!" He sat up, "no need to get too senti Ms. Farooqui. Aap tho jaanti hain, paani mein se logon ko rescue karna meri duty hai."
"Thanks for coming here Mr. Khan. -I was really scared." She was a bit overwhelmed but her wittiness was intact, "I am glad you were on duty today. Warna koi aur bhi tho ho sakta tha."
"Yeah-oh-well-I mean-that's okay," he looked away sheepishly. Of course, she knew why he was there.
"Aapko kaise pata tha main museebat mein hoon?"
"Aap jahan hongi wahan zaroor museebat tho hogi na? I just put two and two together."
"Yeh bhi ek ittefaq hai shayad, haina Mr. Khan?"
"Itni crisis mein bhi aapko mazaak soojhta hai Ms Farooqui? Allah kare ek din aapko museebat khud jhelni padhe."
"I am sure I will manage Mr. Khan. Don't try to be too smart. Remember I handled everything on the cruise, even though I was all alone."
"Yeah right!" He rolled his eyes, "Let's go now. Ghar par sab intezaar kar rahe honge."
'Lekin neeche tho itna paani hai Mr. Khan. I think we should stay in this room till it clears up." Zoya stood up and peeped outside. She shuddered at the thought of walking in the waist deep and in some cases chest deep water.
"Are you crazy?" He rolled his eyes, "ghar par sab pareshan honge. Cell lines are also down. There is no power here either. It's not safe to stay back. We have no option but to leave before the water gets even higher."
"Lekin Mr. Khan, aap jaante hain ki I can't swim and I-I panic in the water. Phir bhi aap?" This time she was serious; he sensed her fear and anxiety. His heart melted, "kya aapko mujh par yakeen hai Ms Farooqui?"
She nodded her head gently, "khud se bhi zyaada."
He had a faint smile on his lips that he tried best to suppress, "then let's go."
"Are you sure?"
"Let go Ms Farooqui. I will take care of the rest. Now I will kneel down. I want you to climb on my back."
"What?" She was hyperventilating as her heart pounded against her chest.
"Just do it!"
"okay," she wrapped her arms around his neck as he pulled her legs on either side of his waist. Swiftly, he turned around and before she could protest, they were sliding down the pipe. She had no choice but to grab him tightly.
The rain had not abated; they were drenched and cold by the time their feet touched the pool of water on the ground. He kept her perched on his back as they plodded through the water gradually.
She kept her eyes shut and just as he had said- let go- she was no longer afraid, there was no panic, her heart beat rhythmically, her breathing deep but steady.
While the journey to the college had been horrendous and nerve wrecking, on their way back, he didn't feel bothered by the rain, thunder or the dirt on the roads. Just being with her, close to her, protecting her, with her soft breaths tickling against his neck made it another memorable journey for him.
Finally, after slogging five miles in the deep rainy water, they were home. Fortunately, Asad's home was at an elevation and their door was still accessible.
He placed her down at the doorstep, "we are finally home Ms Farooqui."
Zoya opened her eyes, as if she had just woken up from a dream, "itni jaldi Mr. khan?"
"Aap kahein tho poore Mumbai darshan kar lein aaj? Traffic bhi nahin milega aaj tho," he taunted her, still panting from the whole ordeal, but amused by her statement.
"Thanks Mr. Khan," she smiled softly and lowered her head, "I was just joking. Aap na hote tho aaj---"
"Let's not make it a big deal. I don't want ammi to get worried," he rang the doorbell. His car and home keys had floated away in the water but he didn't care at that moment. He was just happy they were home, safe and sound and although his Ms Museebat had once again put him through the wringer, he would remember this as the best and most memorable Eid ever. He didn't want any gifts that day; Allah had given him more than he had asked for.
…to be contd….
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