The Disputed Roaster!
The Disputed Roaster
It's the story of an unknown village that existed neither too long ago nor too faraway.
One fine morning, Ustad-a schoolteacher returned from the City with the finest roaster anybody in that village had ever seen. Ustad had in reality discovered the roaster in an alley all by itself and sacked it. Now it was ready to be sold. That evening the Munshi came to him with a respectable offer of 2500 and it was decided that the roaster would be handed over to its new owner next morning at nine, when the payment was to be done. But just after two hours Shurfu, the dhoodh walla came with another offer of 2700. Ustad was puzzled but not for long. What goes of my mother father if I take the payment twice? He thought.
That night his wife Farkhanda was busy at home, taking care of the screaming and whining children. After many years, she had reached an answer-only the death of her husband can bring her home prosperity. He brought home little or no pay and consumed everything she earned for her children. Having him in the house was a non- profitable hassle. What goes of my mother father if he dies? She thought. For years, she had been waiting for the day when some anguished villager would get weary of her husband's dishonest dealings and kill him or scare him away from the village. But maybe the villagers were waiting for her to do so. Or perhaps people had become used to the dishonest lot and killing them and seeking justice was out of trend now.
Next morning, Ustad got up and left for the School where he taught. The school was actually the resting place for cows at night. And therefore the stench of cow dung never deserted it, nor did the houseflies, which had been recognized as the real and sole owners of the orphaned building. Calling it a building was hard. For it was standing on four steel pillars with no walls whatsoever. The sole classroom was too small to accommodate children with there bags so the bags had to be left outside. Every five minutes a student went out with the pretext of fetching a book and never returned till the next morning. Ustad had long forgotten what he had to teach. He started the day with the recitation of Quranic verses and ended it on the Quranic verses. The children would recite 'Ek Dunni Dunni' in unison while Ustad took his morning nap, waking every now and then to kill a fly that was attracted to his big round belly. Sometimes he would spank one of them for not reciting loud enough. 'Imran!' he called.' Why don't you come and fan me.' The shortest boy of the class Imran, who also polished shoes in the morning, obliged.
Not too far away his wife was at the Mizaar, visiting Peer Bhalla who was said to have magical powers-despite being in the grave for more than a century. Her husband was not very old and still might have a few decades to go. Standing there, by the grave covered by red and green sheets with golden Arabic words embroidered on them, she was convinced that she would be a liberated widow soon. And the belief strengthened when she gave a starchy note of five rupees to one of the cleaners there.
Meanwhile in front of her house a brawl had started between the doodh walla and the Munshi. Both of them were baffled and anguished and hurling abuses at each other. Munshi threatened to kill Shurfu, who laughed in his face. The insulted each other with abuses that everyone wanted to hear but no one wanted to repeat.
Just then a gunshot was heard, the whole village gathered there not noticing that the roaster had escaped. Farkhanda also ran towards the site excitedly to see if her husband had been taken care of. But the gunshot was futile- only enough to drive a roaster away.
In the class, a fly woke Ustad up. He was imagining what his beloved Chandni would look like with her lips parted when he heard a creak. Her lips- they creak! He thought. And just then he heard a thud, which was too loud to be attributed to her lips. The children in the back lane bent backward, the ones in the first lane bent forward to see what had landed on the rooftop. It was the disputed roaster itself! But before they could understand, the roof tumbled down.
A few miles away at Ustad's house, Farkhanda was standing in disappointment. The police was there now to arrest Munshi. But in no time a boy had come running to them with the news that the school building had kissed the ground! New hopes and dreams bloomed in Farkhanda's heart. She went on the site where people had removed some of the rubble already and till now only one person had been found dead, and it was not her husband! It was Imran, the shortest boy of the class. But soon her husband was also pulled out-lifeless.
Imran 's death brought the Choudry of the village to the site. He was wondering how a school could crumble down under his own nose and anxious about who will polish his shoes from now onwards. Imran 's mother in turn was screaming and whining without control. First she said ' my only son!' Only then did she remember that she had four more sons. The she passionately hit herself on the head, the pain of which reminded her that it's not a good idea to hit oneself so hard.
The news spread like fire and the entire village gathered at Imran 's house, not due to grief but due to inquisitiveness. It became the most sensational event of the village. Going in and out of Imran 's house was a hobby for everyone! The roaster, which had survived the crash, had been deprived of its worldly appeal and looked like a Martian without its feathers. This marked the end of the dispute. The same evening, when everyone was busy mourning, somebody shouted, ' What is going on?' To everyone's surprise it was the D.C.O. He inquired about the accident and asked for the glass of water. When the water came- he sprinkled it on Imran's face and Imran got up! More alive then ever!
This episode freaked Farkhanda out! What if her husband returns to this planet with only a sprinkle of water droplets? She quickly made the funeral preparations and called the Maulvi! No matter what she did- giving the dead body a bath was inevitable. But before the bath could take place- one of Farkhanda's children dropped an entire glass on the dead man- who woke up from his sweet sleep. Farkhanda's happiness snuffed out when she saw the man come back to life and she regretted those five rupees already.
After Imran, who was a star now, drank water-he asked the villagers to leave and he informed the D.C.O the tale of his school and teacher. The Choudry also pretended he didn't know anything and the D.C.O promised to send a new teacher, not only with mended bones but also an operative brain.
The roaster went to live on the Mizaar where he was given more then enough food. Ustad was removed from duty and his wife sent him to Chandni in the city rather then wasting her energy on killing him. Since he didn't have the job he left for the city with his dented ego- to live there forever! The village got a new school building, teacher and long-lasting wave of cheerfulness.
Want to comment on this Short Stories?
Sign up to Edit Red and you will be able to comment on Short Stories and get access to: Upload your own stories and poems, get readers and their feedback, promote your work...
|
 |
|