The discussion was a grave one. A lot of women were peeping through the window – including Riziya. Had Fulsura been divorced? Maulana Tahirul nodded and declared, ‘The divorce has taken place according to the shariat. I can’t see any way out.’

Rahman asked him pleadingly, ‘But he wants to take her back. Can’t they be together again?’

Tahirul was silent. He had such a worried expression on his face that there seemed to be no sign of any hope! After a long while, he said, ‘There’s only one way out. Halala! The iddat begins from the day of the talaq. After three months and ten days, she has to be married to some other man. She has to spend the night with him. If he divorces her after that, then she has to wait for the iddat period of three months and ten days once again. After that, Jamir, that is, her former husband, can marry her.’

Rahman was listening to him all this while. He suddenly shouted, ‘Impossible! How can that be?’

‘Of course it’s impossible. But it’s still possible to slip through the loopholes of the law. Can’t someone be found who will agree to the marriage? Although it’s not right…’

Nazir had brought a doctor. Kalu Miya was being treated in the next room. No one noticed when Nazir came and sat down. He said, ‘Ostagar had diverted eighteen thousand rupees, because zakat money is for the poor, so it can’t be given to a maktab. He told me, you’re a poor man, here’s my zakat money of twenty thousand rupees. Keep two thousand for yourself and donate the rest to the school. So is it something like that?’

Tahirul looked at him impassively and replied, ‘Yes, it is indeed

like that.’

Maruf gazed at Tahirul in astonishment. He asked, ‘But isn’t that wrong? Does anyone get married on the condition of terminating the marriage? Would that marriage be a sacred one?’

‘Come on, Maruf Bhai, even I know it’s against the law. I also said that it’s not right. Actually, it’s a loophole in the law. Otherwise…’

Suddenly someone entered the room. It was Fulsura’s Mama, the advocate in the Howrah civil court. Tahirul was acquainted with him. He had met him once. As soon as he entered, he offered salaam and said, ‘This talaq is an incomplete talaq. He only uttered it once. If they are remorseful, they can begin living together again. This is not tantamount to uttering “talaq” thrice. As far as I know, although a Muslim marriage is a relatively easy affair, it’s not so when it comes to divorce. Yet, we have turned marriage into a complicated matter, while divorce takes place in a single stroke.’

‘What’s this you’re saying? What do you mean there has been no talaq? There has definitely been a talaq.’

‘No, there has been no talaq.’

Maruf had been in deep thought about the whole matter. After taking various things into consideration, he said to the lawyer, ‘A single bullet of a gun is enough to blow away someone’s life. Isn’t it?’

The lawyer was unruffled. He said, ‘Your argument works only if the bullet hits the head or chest. But what if it strikes the leg? Ought one to look into the motive behind firing the gun? Who was witness to how exactly that bastard declared talaq?’

Riziya barged in from the women’s inner room. She said, ‘I know. I heard it myself.’

She continued, ‘Look, it’s true that they were quarrelling over a particular matter. But they loved each other. His exact words were, “So what if your Bhabi doesn’t return? I’m divorcing her.”’

Tahirul gaped at Riziya with widened eyes. It was indeed astonishing! She had already managed to reach Fulsura’s in-laws’ house in order to find out the truth! How amazing! Tahirul asked, ‘Do you know how many times he uttered the word “talaq”?’

‘No, I don’t.’

The lawyer was in a hurry. He wanted to simplify the matter. He said, ‘Forget it. Even if it’s an error. Perform the new marriage, Imam Saheb.’

‘No, Sir. I can’t do that. Is the shariat like a toy in a child’s hand?’

‘But I’ve heard that this happens in the Arab countries.’

‘Rubbish! They are wahabi. Outside the established schools of Islam. Forget about them. They only follow the Koran and the Hadith. They don’t believe in theological congresses or an individual’s declarations. Are we wahabi?’

Maruf had been listening quietly all this while. He now said, ‘What do the Arab people do, Hujur? I mean, is there a Hadith regarding conducting a second marriage as a correction in the case of a divorce?’

‘It is there. But Caliph Omar…’

‘So then what’s the problem, Hujur? Do as it says.’

‘After all, we can’t go outside our religion.’

‘Can the Hadith be outside the religion, Hujur? It has to form some part of the religion. What’s the problem?’

‘Don’t you understand, Maruf Bhai? It’s a very complicated matter. We shall act according to the rules of the religion we belong to, Inshallah!’

‘Hujur, you had mentioned crafty halala marriage, and you said it wasn’t the law but a loophole in the law. So we can rather consider the single talaq utterance as a similar loophole and conduct the marriage again. It will be less of a problem. They will get back together as well. Why should we get into meaningless complications?’

‘No. You can do what you like. I’m not involved in this any more. You should rather go to the Muftis, who are experts in Islamic law.’

Salaam Miya had just stepped into Dilu’s tea shop after completing his Isha prayer when some young men began signalling one another with their eyes. Salaam Miya assumed they were engaged in some obscene conversation among themselves. When they fell silent as soon as they spotted him, he was actually pleased. So the young boys of today hadn’t forgotten about being respectful towards elders! He bought a dozen eggs and four scented zarda paans in a pleased mien. Dilu’s was a tea shop in name only. Actually, it was a provisions store. People made fun of the amazing range of things he stocked in his store. But Dilu didn’t mind that at all, rather his chest puffed out with pride. There was another reason for his pride. Dilu Bhai was quite an informed person. He was quite popular. He had all the credible news regarding the locality.

There were no elders at the shop after Isha. Youths took over the shop. They puffed cigarettes luxuriously, they chatted about films. And if they got any juicy news from Dilu Bhai, they engrossed themselves in that.

One youth asked, ‘Why do you need so many eggs, Chacha? Are your in-laws visiting?’

‘No. No one’s visiting.’

‘Didn’t the son-in-law come to visit today?’

‘Son-in-law? Whose son-in-law?’

Everyone burst out laughing at his query. It was a kind of offensive laugh. Blood rushed to Salaam’s head. It didn’t look good. What were the boys trying to say? He left the place.

He felt restless after he returned home. After a while, he went back to the shop. Finding it empty, as soon as he pressed Dilu to tell him what was going on, he spilt the beans. Salaam Miya was furious at what he heard. He couldn’t brush away the matter. What had he heard! With the Imam Saheb of the mosque?

Salaam Miya considered the situation. That was it! He did come frequently and sit for long in the name of teaching! He spoke to the girl too. How terrible! He had never viewed that matter in such a light!

He suddenly felt a profound rage against Riziya’s obstinacy and do-as-you-please ways. But the very next moment, he thought, is Riziya alone to blame! Weren’t they also to blame? Wasn’t ‘Rizi’s Ma’ Salaam Miya’s wife? He felt most angry with her. After all, if it was true, then it was them that people would blame more than the Maulana Saheb! A girl who could make the Maulana Saheb lose his head was indeed a deadly one! How would he show his face to people? Had it been right on their part to indulge a strapping young man so much! That’s what people would say! Salaam Miya was filled with remorse. It scorched him.

But whenever he thought about Tahirul, he couldn’t believe it at all. He was an imam, who always spoke politely and respectfully. How could he do this! He thought that some people must have slandered him. People loved to slander hafez and maulana folk. A stain on dirty clothes was not visible but the tiniest drop of ink that splashed on white garments stood out. Finding flaws in scholarly people was a matter of amusement for many.

What was he to do! While lying in bed at night, he shouted at his wife in anger and regret, ‘I used to tell you that you were raising a poisonous snake with milk and bananas. That turned out to be true, didn’t it!’

‘Why, what’s happened, eh? Why are you shouting like this at bedtime?’

‘What more can happen! Our faces are scorched. As it is, there’s tension on account of Fulsura’s talaq. And now to hear this on top of that. Chhee, chhee!’

‘Why don’t you first tell me what’s happened?’

‘Your Rizi is studying in college, but I didn’t say anything. I was suspicious, but I thought that perhaps she was carrying on with someone in college itself. Now I hear that she’s carrying on with … Ooh! What face do we have left!’

‘What’s happened? With whom? What are you talking about?’

Salaam Miya suddenly lowered his voice. He said, ‘With the Maulana Saheb of the mosque. I’m hardly at home, but you are! Shouldn’t you keep your eyes and ears alert? It’s because of you that she has become so audacious! Gone beyond control!’