The grandfatherly Boishnob returned. Smiling humbly, ‘Please don’t mind, son, I didn’t realize you were Muslim until I saw the picture of the Kaaba on the calendar.’

‘Don’t you take alms from Muslims?’

‘I didn’t come for alms, son. I sing the Lord’s name. The Bangaals respond cheerfully saying “Radhe, Radhe”. They give me a baksheesh. How would I please you?’

Maruf didn’t say any more. The Boishnob left. He returned after some time. He asked, ‘Do you want to listen to a song?’

‘Please sing it.’

The grandfatherly Boishnob began singing throatily –

Mon Bilaler azan shune,

dil kaabate nemaj poro –

oi kaabate sejda kore,

hoq potheri daman dhoro.

The mind hears Bilal’s azan call,

Pray at the Kaaba, O heart –

Prostrate at the Kaaba,

And walk the path of Truth.

Maruf listened to him in amazement. He was engrossed. He paid tribute to him with a baksheesh. The man left, but the song didn’t – it echoed in his head. He had wondered several times whether the song was completely opposed to the shariat. But the very next moment, he wondered, was this the real self-purification, the path to self-realization? If self-purification was necessary in order to establish good deeds and resist those that were wrong, that called for a certain power. What was the name of that power? Spiritual power, or political power? What power did the great sages employ to achieve social revolution?

Maruf kept thinking about a labouring man. Right at dawn today, Nazir had told him, ‘You are the only one I know who is a truly good man.’ Was that true? What was his heart like? Did it hear the azan call of Bilal, the Prophet’s own beloved muezzin who possessed a melodious voice?

thirty-three

Riziya confided in Suman when she encountered any problem. Suman tried to solve that to the best of his ability. She trusted him. Not just as her tutor – Suman was her counsellor, and a good friend. He had no small role to play in the fact that she was studying in college. It was Suman who she spoke to in regard to the land matter.

Suman’s Kaka, Sushil Nath, was a court clerk. Suman took Riziya to him. After listening to everything, he said, ‘Whatever you said to Rafiq was absolutely correct. You needn’t worry about anything. They have sold off all the land that rightfully belonged to your mother. This was the only plot that was left. I’ve told you this many times earlier too. Just don’t agree to anything.’

Riziya seemed to feel a bit emboldened at that. But she kept to herself why she did not wish to sell off the land. There was no need to disclose that. It was a personal matter of hers. Wasn’t she entitled to her dreams? Didn’t she too want to live a life of her own design? She had a secret relationship of love with Tahirul. And after all, that relationship ought to have an outcome. Hadn’t Riziya come to be aware of Tahirul’s heart’s disposition? Riziya wanted to set up home with Tahirul. That piece of land was the first tiny bit towards that. How could she ever sell off this sole means of fulfilling her dreams? No! She would never sell that land under any circumstances.

‘Are you there, Maruf, son?’

‘Yes, Abba. What happened?’

‘Rafiq Ali had come. He was looking for you.’

‘Why? Why was he looking for me?’

Maruf thought for a while and then answered his own question. ‘Oh! It’s election time again, isn’t it! I think it might be for that. Rafiq Bhai will be most solicitous with every family!’

‘No, it’s not about elections, he mentioned something else…’

‘What was that, Abba?’

‘It was about the land belonging to the Miyas. About which there had been trouble in the mosque.’

‘So what’s happened now?’

‘Nothing’s happened. It seems the Miyas had made out an affidavit regarding the sale of the land. Although Salaam Miya was reluctant at first, he is agreeable now. But that girl Riziya is there! Apparently, she is not willing to sell off the land. Rafiq Ali thinks that she will come around if you speak to her. That’s why he came here.’

‘Why would she do that?’

‘That’s what I said too. Listen, son, please don’t get involved in any trouble. But see whether the girl agrees. After all, Rafiq is related to us in a way through marriage. When he’s requesting you so much…’

Nasir Sheikh left Maruf’s room. Maruf pondered over the matter. Rafiq Ali had come to meet him! He laughed inwardly. The cat never climbed a tree unless it was chased! He disliked Rafiq Ali on ethical grounds. There had been heated arguments in public between them on several matters. So he wondered why Rafiq had come to him of all people. Political leaders did not strike merely a single bird with a stone. There was certainly some other reason as well for wanting to meet him. To know how much support he commanded. Maruf realized that. This was the same Rafiq Ali Sheikh who had won the elections five years ago after making hundreds of promises. Chhappa Haji’s prowess was responsible for that, though. But after becoming the deputy chief of the Panchayat, Rafiq Ali simply had no time for anyone. And this time, he would glorify democracy by buying people’s votes once again. He would win again with threats and intimidation. Maruf was determined that this could not be allowed to happen. He had to see to it that Rafiq was not given the party ticket. Maruf deemed that to be his moral duty. In a moment of self-realization, he felt as if his conscience had heard Bilal call out the azan. It wouldn’t do if it were he alone who heard this call, he had to make the people at large hear it too. He had to make the sound echo in their ears. Once the hearts of the exploited and excluded folk began to hear Bilal’s call, the dam would burst. They would be emboldened to speak the truth notwithstanding any worldly binding. They would clearly envision a dream for a better future.

Iqbal Ostagar had convened the meeting. One by one, a handful of people had gathered in his house. It wasn’t so late at night yet. Maruf received them and asked them to be seated. Maruf’s friend, Farid, and Iqbal Ostagar, had invited them. There must be some special reason for sure. But nothing had been explained clearly! What was it about? Everyone was full of curiosity. There were about ten people in all. Iqbal Ostagar sat at a distance from Haidar Ali, who was a Tablighi man. But Haidar had accompanied Farid. Only those who were somewhat close to Maruf had been handpicked. They sat together in a circle. The muezzin, Rahmat Bhai, next to him Nazir Ali, Hasmat Chacha, Haidar and Terpol Haji and so on. Hasmat Chacha enquired, ‘Can you tell me what this is about? I don’t quite understand, Iqbal Bhai!’

Gesturing to them to remain seated, Iqbal Ostagar replied in a reassuring tone, ‘It’s important, or else why would I call you at such short notice? Sit down, sit down. I’ve asked for tea. We’ll talk over tea.’

As Maqsood Lashkar removed his cap and placed it beside him, he declared, ‘I’m Terpol Haji, no lie ever emits my mouth. But I’m guessing something. Is it about some scam or scandal? Has someone got caught? Why don’t you tell us clearly? What’s the problem? What’s happened, eh?’

Farid could not control himself. He began to laugh. And then he said, ‘No, my dear, it’s not about anyone getting caught. The thing is, the Panchayat elections are due soon. So what do you all think?’

Perhaps Rahmat Bhai thought it was something urgent. He had left without finishing his dinner when he got the news that Maruf had called him. He had a special regard for Maruf. But when he heard mention of the elections, he seemed to be disheartened. ‘Elections will take place. We will all vote. What’s there to think about it? Where was the need to call us?’

Maruf found the cue to begin now. He looked at the people in the gathering. He smiled a little. He exchanged greetings with everyone. And then, turning to Rahmat Bhai, he said, ‘How much longer, Rahmat Bhai? How much longer will you go on voting without thinking, without understanding anything? Don’t you have to learn to understand the value of your vote? Will you simply accept whatever some party tells you?’

Haidar Ali carried a tasbeeh, or a set of prayer beads, in his hand. He silently uttered the names of Allah all through the day. He was an authentic Tablighi Jamaat man who had participated in three chillas. His relations with Iqbal Ostagar were strained. So he wasn’t able to speak freely since he was in his house. Maruf was not unaware of that. He signalled to Iqbal Ostagar. Iqbal got the message. He proffered Haidar a cup of tea. He conveyed a message of love through a gracious smile.

Responding to his smile, Haidar Ali asked, ‘But none of us are involved in politics. So what’s the meaning of this, Iqbal Bhai? What exactly do you have in mind?’

‘To topple them!’ Farid exclaimed. And then he started explaining the matter in detail. ‘We got Rafiq to stand, with a lot of hope. But tell me, what have you got in these five years? We want to try to ensure that Rafiq does not get the party ticket this time.’

‘But what will come of that, Farid? Is there any point? Rafiq will be left out, and some Safiq will take his place. He, too, could be another bastard. Besides, we are just ordinary folk. Do you think we can decide who’ll stand and who won’t? There’s still a lot of time left for the elections. All we can do is vote, isn’t it?’

Addressing everyone, Iqbal Ostagar now said, ‘If we have a good man instead of that kind of bastard, will you support him?’

Everyone responded as one. ‘Of course, we will! But where will we find such a person?’

Nazir stood up. He said with enthusiasm, ‘I know only one person in Sadnahati who is both good and courageous. He stands by the poor. Do you know who he is?’

Everyone looked askance at one another. Was he going to propose the name of his cousin, Kalim Mirza? But he was like a faulty tube light now. Would it ever come alight? No, Nazir didn’t propose his name. Pointing to Maruf, who was seated in front of him, he said, ‘Our Maruf Bhai!’

Without a moment’s hesitation, Rahmat Bhai welcomed the suggestion. Maruf himself was a bit embarrassed by that. He protested mildly, saying, ‘No, Nazir’s exaggerating. I’m wondering how it will be if Iqbal Ostagar stands.’

But Iqbal Ostagar paid no heed to what he said. He asked Haji Maqsood and Haidar Ali for their opinions. They thought for a moment and expressed their support for Maruf.