When the terrorists terminated the lives of seven Christians last month in one of the thickly inhabited buildings in Karachi, Rimpa Plaza, Adam, a close friend looked at the heavens, and said, “Thank God, I am not a Christian.”
Adam is a CD vendor in the vicinity of my junk shop in Joria Bazar. During lean hours, he sits in my congested shop and plays 78 RPM records on an antique gramophone. He, nostalgically, listens to the obsolete film songs rendered by K L Sehgal, K C Dev, Punkhaj Malik, Jagmoohan, Kamla Jharia, Ameer Bai Karnatki, and Zohra Bai Ambalawali. He is diehard admirer of the semi-classical compositions and ghazals sung by Ustad Bare Ghulam Ali Khan, Ustad Abdul Karim Khan, Pundit Omkernath, and Master Madan. While listening to his favourite records, he rests his head against the back of a dilapidated chair, closes his eyes and recedes into the years gone by. I do not know how old Adam is. He had once said, “I am in the twilight zone of my existence.”
When an awful event takes place anywhere on the earth, particularly in his own country Pakistan, Adam recedes into solitude. He convincingly feels to have been at the place at the time of the occurrence of the event, and witnessed the gruesome incident with his eyes wide open. It is hard to agree with him. How one can be at a particular place without actually being there! We, his friends, know Adam was nowhere present within the proximity of Rimpa Plaza at the time of the massacre of seven Christians. But, Adam insists he was present at the spot and saw the slaughter with his own eyes. It is his enigmatic assertion beyond our comprehension.
Someone asked, “How come they did not kill you?”
“They were on the verge of killing me.”
“Then what happened?”
“They asked, are you a Christian?”
“What did you reply?”
“I said, thank God, I am not a Christian.”
Many shopkeepers in Joria Bazar who know Adam casually misconstrue his reactive response to annihilation of men at the hands of men, but not I. After all, Adam and I have spent several years together through thick and thin! We have battled together for survival in our intolerant society. I am used to his sudden expression of abhorrence to brutal behaviour of man against man. When he exclaimed, “Thank God, I am not a Christian,” I knew he had protested against bestiality in man. Death is consequential phenomenon for Adam. He, who arrives, sooner or later has to leave. Dying is conclusive episode of life. Adam in his solitude speaks to the Creator of the smaller creators, and prays, “Fill me with fortitude to decide the day and time for my return journey unto you.”
Not many months ago a caravan of Hindu pilgrims on their way to pay homage to goddess Durga in Ananthnag, was attacked with bombs, guns and grenades by the terrorists. A large number of men, women, and children perished on the spot in the savage attack. When the news of annihilation of Hindus was passed on to Adam, he calmly claimed, “I saw the brutal murder of men, women, and children with my own eyes. I was there.”
“Why did they spare you?” Someone asked.
“Because I was not a Hindu.”
In their pretended frantic search for Al Qaeda and Taliban last year, the American forces unleashed savage aerial and ground attacks against Afghan villages killing unaccounted men, women and children. A generation was reduced to ashes. A culture was wiped out. Two dreaded American agencies, FBI and CIA, struck terror among the civilians in Pakistan under the pretext for combing out the absconding members of Al Qaeda and Taliban. Referring to his bohemian appearance, a shopkeeper said, “Adam, we fear they might nab you for your close resemblance to Taliban.”
Adam replied, “They won’t.”
“Why?”
“Because, I am not a Muslim.”
“What did you say?”
“I am not a Muslim.”
“Then, are you a Jew?”
“I am not.”
“So you say, you are neither a Muslim, nor a Hindu, a Christian, or a Jew.” A puzzled shopkeeper asked, “Then, who are you?”
“Don’t you know me?” Adam smiled, and replied, “I am Adam.”
The annoyed shopkeeper, who has the habit of sitting in judgment upon other people’s beliefs, looked at a group of curious vendors, and said, “Adam is an atheist.”
Adam turned around, and politely replied, “He who doesn’t belong to a faith is not necessarily an atheist.”
The angry shopkeeper asked, “Do you know what happens to a person like you?”
Adam smiled, and looked at me, and said nothing.
The shopkeeper said, “If you go to India, the Hindus will lynch you. If you go to Israel, the Jews will lynch you. If you go to Vatican City, the Christians will lynch you. If you go to a Muslim country, the Muslims will lynch you.”
Adam kept smiling, and said nothing. The shopkeeper said, “People of all faiths will join hands in a holy alliance to lynch you someday.”
Smilingly Adam rose to his feet. He headed for his solitude.
The agitated shopkeeper shouted at the top of his voice, and said, “Now that you are in a Muslim country, Pakistan, you will be soon lynched by the pious and God-fearing Muslims.”
