Lost and Found

This shop has been like this – closed – for 27 years, 4 months and 19 days, and this man had been sitting here, at this very spot for no one knows how many years. He died just yesterday, and somehow, he had predicted his own death, in a way, that no one probably can, or no one will, in a manner so bizarre that most of the logical world would deny his thoughts and actions and all that he had told me the night before. Also, who would listen to me, a street-side beggar, also been in this very place for the better portion of my life so far?

So, I came here, in this bazaar, in the summer of 1990, and saw this pavement, in front of this closed shop, and this man was sleeping there. It had a nice shadow over it, so I also made some space for myself and sat down as I begged for alms. When he woke up, he was somewhat startled to see me and drove me away like I was some unwelcome dirty animal coming inside his house.

“Why can’t I sit here? Is it your shop, you moron?”

He said nothing, instead just sat on the side of the stairs. I moved on and found another shelter. But I did keep an eye on his spot. I asked around and found out that that man was a madman, blabbering mad things and making mad noises. He held his floor like it had some treasure buried under it, he was like the last monarch of his small patch of land that remained and was determined to protect it till his last breath, and even beyond.

The shop was a disputed one. Its owner and his family members were killed in the Hindu-Muslim riots and till then no one had claimed this shop. It was anyway built on the ground floor of a dilapidating building, that was also waiting to come down pretty soon. These northern parts of the city, the older parts, are mostly these old broken-down buildings and narrow lanes that will eventually one day crumble down to the earth. And if it happened to collapse, this man would be buried underneath the ruins.

He got his food and water from some nearby temple, I suppose, and he never really looked sad about his being or never wanted anything from anyone, nor did he trouble anyone. He kept around, minding his own business, which was mostly just sitting there, and looking at nothing in particular, he seldom spoke, but whenever he spoke, he uttered only gibberish.

Until yesterday, when he sounded very happy, he sang songs, self-made, I believe, because no one had ever listened to those songs, he danced around, his tattered clothes doing less to keep his private parts in private, his cried in joy and held up his hands as if he had just won a war.

So yesterday night, I went and sat in front of him, on the streets as I dared not step onto his territory!

“Why so happy today, chacha?”

“My wait is finally over”, he said, I could make out a peaceful and calming smile on his face, peeping through his beard.

“What were you waiting for?”

“Tonight, I am going, once and for all”, he said, and then in an ecstatic tone, he cried, “I am going.”

“Where? Got a nice place to live, I suppose.”

“How strange it is, you see, I was the one supposed to take her away, and now she is taking me away. Nevertheless, we will be one again”, he said.

“Which item are you talking about, chacha”, I said, in a sly tone, “You look cold and old, yet you are boiling with sexual hunger”, I laughed.

Chacha did not laugh, he became stern, he was not looking at me, he was not looking at anything, he stared in front of him, scared, angry, frustrated – “I see you all, all of you, all cowards and mercenaries. What do you have, huh? What? You think you are rich? Ghanta!”, he said, pointing out his thumb.

“What are you talking about, chacha?”

“That night, I was supposed to come and take her away with me. My father found out and he stopped me, and before I could come and save her, she was already dead, burnt, alive”, he sobbed out loud, “I could do nothing, my love, my Nafeesa, oh my God, they showed no mercy, they are animals, all of them”, now he was angry, aggressive, “They don’t know what they were doing, they were blind, idiots, stupid, bloody fools”, he shouted so hard that he started coughing.

“Calm down, chacha. Tell me from the beginning, what happened?”

“Beginning? Which beginning, you dumbo? The beginning of space, when there was nothing, or the beginning of life when peace was disturbed, or do you mean the beginning of me, when I tumbled forth into this ungodly world, or the beginning of the supernatural, the extraordinaire when nothing made sense anymore.”

I did not know what to say, this old man, was blabbering, he was going to waste my time and I was about to leave him, when he said, “Or do you mean the beginning from when I saw Nafeesa? It was here, right on this porch, she used to work in this shop, her mother ran this shop. I lived nearby. She had the most beautiful face, and the most soothing voice one can ever hear. Her skin was so smooth and her hair, dirty, but reflected her perseverance.”

Chacha stopped. I also sat back again. He was smiling, rather blushing.

“Tell me more”, I pushed.

“You won’t understand, you see. Whatever I tell you about her, you will only draw the picture of a girl in your stupid head. But, to me, she is much more than that, much more than just a picture, she was not any other beautiful girl, she was life, and I cannot describe life.”

“What happened to her?”

“Yes, she liked me too. We kissed behind the closed shutters of this shop, we slept and she had my baby. Behind this shutter, lies the most beautiful bed that I had ever slept on, this shutter beholds all of my passion and love, and this place, this very step, is the happiest place in the world, for here, I and Nafeesa had spent our days, staring into each other’s eyes, and I could see the most painful and heartwarming story one can ever tell through those beautiful pearls of eyes she had.”

“Is that why you do not let anyone sit beside you here?”, I asked.

“I was wrong, you see, dumbo”, he said, “I thought this entire world was a bad and selfish place to stay, but Nafeesa changed me. I told you, she is life.”

“Do you miss her?”

“Miss her? No, dumbo, no. We meet every day, we talk every day.”

“I thought she was dead”, I said, confused, “I thought someone burnt her alive.”

“Oh yes, of course, they did, but that does not mean that they finished her.”

“What do you mean?”, I asked, it was getting spooky.

“That day after they burnt down this place, I came here. I saw her, staring at me. She was as beautiful as ever. She was not angry, I was, she was not scared, I was.

I went up to her and tried to touch her, but she was gone. And I knew, that she was angry with me, not those stupid arsehole men who burnt her. She trusted me and broke her trust. So, I decided to leave everything and from that day onwards, I am here, 27 years, 4 months and 18 nights, it will be tonight. Do you know what that means, dumbo? It means ten thousand and one nights, the luckiest night”, he said as he looked up to the stars.

“That day when you sat beside me”, he said, “You were sitting where she sits. She comes every day, you see, and we talk and chat, but she would not let me touch her or come closer to her, she would not let me fill in the gaps that were left since that night. I had to wait, and tonight my wait will be over. She will take me with her tonight, dumbo, she will take me with her.”

This senile old man had lost it, hallucinating and blabbering, I had wasted half of my night listening to this gibberish. I got up and walked away towards my shack as I heard the old man shouting, “Don’t be a fool, dumbo, find something to live, before holding on to dear life, find your life, dumbo, find your life”, as his voice and laughter died in the night.

The next day, i.e., today, he was lying dead, in front of the shop. He lay there, sleeping, one hand over his unmoving chest, one hand under his head, his feet crossed, and a hint of a smile on his lips. With him, we lost a story today, a story that no one would believe, but he did, and somehow somewhere, he knew about his death, maybe, he was with his Nafeesa then, maybe it was all just a coincidence, or maybe he was just a man in a photograph, looking right into your eyes and screaming, “Find your life, dumbo, find your life.”