Whose God is it anyway?

I observed him carefully as he walked to the door. I knew that time was running out but suppressed the urge to check my watch. I took a deep breath and started counting in reverse under my breath. Ten, nine, eight, seven...

“Lallan, how many times have I told you not to trudge around on the road?”

“Sorry Appa”

…Seven, no six, five, four, three, two, two and one. Bham!! Yes exactly like I had practiced. Count ‘two’ twice, that would give them one more second to breathe in this free world, stained with religion and also a moment for me to get a better grip on the button. Bham! I guess that’s how it would sound like.

I locked the doors with one last glimpse at Sonia’s garland bordered framed photograph, She was beautiful. My shona.

How I wish if she would have not gone to the temple that day, with a long list of prayers, for me and for Lallan. The whole world would have been different. How I wish, if they could have killed me instead. After all, it was I who had written that ominous article about the other God, the other religion.

Now I realise, it is indeed better to die once, than die each day for the rest of your life by lamenting over the loss of your loved ones. Lucky you Sonia!

By the time I reached downstairs, Lallan had already started making huts and trees with a backdrop of rising sun on the canvas of wet road side mud with his tiny fingers. They still teach this archaic morning scene to kids at school. Everything indeed is stagnant here.

“Lallan, just look at you, here wipe your fingers on my kurta. Now listen, don’t create any sort of discomfort to Bade Appa and Amma, while I am gone. You are a big boy now, come on wipe your other hand too.”

Lallan just kept looking at my eyes and those pupils, maybe searching for that secret aisle which went through my eyes, straight to the heart. I just wiped his forehead with my palms only to divert his stare.

He seemed frightened, or was that my fear reflecting on his face? “It’s time, let’s go.” I said.

We walked quietly through the overcrowded, serpentine like criss- crossing lanes, just like those cross word puzzles in the newspaper. Lallan held on to my right forearm and waded along, forcing his twig like legs to match with my speed.

For a fleeting moment I decided to carry him on my shoulders, an act which I had never done earlier in my life, but soon launched the thought out through the windows of my already over occupied brain. I must act normal so that Lallan doesn’t feel suspicious about my behaviour; kids these days are very smart.

The over head electricity wires connecting from one dilapidated building to another seemed like a mighty wire mesh, which was scattering the evening summer sunlight efficaciously upon different religions battling under it.

Lallan observed the twilight scenes with the usual spark of wonderment in his eyes. The barber sat there outside his rickety shop, reading newspaper, surrounded by a garb of all sorts of hair. Can he now realise which hair belonged to which religion? Or are they all the same after they are cut off, just like this human flesh?

We walked past the Peepul tree junction, the gully’s snacks seller sat there on his haunches scratching his crotch, next to his portable shop. Kids ran helter skelter around us, none of them Lallan’s friend. In fact he had no friends.

The sun started shying away behind the blanket of horizon, spreading a grey shadow altogether to the evening. Everything seemed dark and gloomy, just like my heart and the plans to follow.

We waded our way up through the dingy old crumbling stair case to reach the first floor. The sound of red chillies and curry leaves writhing in pain, creating a hissing noise transcended its boundaries of kitchen, fostering an even scarier atmosphere to this unlighted doorway. Lallan stood behind me, motionless; too afraid even to sneeze properly. He was always sensitive to the whiff of tadka.

Bhai sahib opened the door, his sweat beads shining like pearls, on his dark forehead. “Chote”, he exclaimed with no change of facial expression, and directed us towards the small living room.

The living room of bhai sahib’s house always made me stifle, because restrictions and boundaries were those elements which make me feel vexed and this house was all about this. Dark and closely packed small rooms with furniture and other items more than it required. Walking freely in this house was an arduous task. I wonder how Lallan would ever manage here. It will take him some time before he could run around here, without bumping over tables and chairs. For a fleeting moment I was happy, realising that it was my last time here, ever. But leaving behind Lallan made my heart heavy, but after all he could not come with me either. The place I am about to go is way too early for him.

“Go and meet your aunt, she is in the kitchen,” bhai sahib said to Lallan, fearing his honcho style, salt and pepper colour moustache, Lallan followed his dictum without even a second thought.

“So when is it starting?” Bhai sahib finally asked. His eyes meeting mine for the first time this evening. He seemed to be wrapped in his usual calmness, but I knew that there would be a deluge of thoughts erupting behind the high walls of his heart.

After all how often is it that you see your own brother taking up the role of a suicide bomber?

The character was finalised to me, last month at a meeting in this very gloomy room, on the eve of Sonia’s cremation, with Bhai sahib and his fanatic friends. I was the trump card to be thrown in midst of the rivals.

For me Sonia’s death kindled a fire of religious fanaticism in my otherwise secular journalistic heart.

“Secularism in India is a myth my friend”, I heard one of the fanatics say, when I finally agreed to the master plan.

Today was the day to uproot and burn those trees of religion into ashes. Last thirty days had been a mental preparation period to start the forest fire.

“It’s in half an hour”, I said and started unbuttoning my kurta. “Help me get ready, before I change my mind.”

Bhai sahib lazily got up and with a slow gait walked towards the store room and after a brief moment emerged out from the dark with something, something which for a moment made me feel week. The month long preparation seemed futile at the sight of this belt like object, covered with red-green wires and also studded with a taxi meter like device in the middle.

“So this is it?” I flashed my usual fake smile only to hide my fears.

Bhai sahib without uttering a word started fastening the belt on to my shivering lower back.

“It’s set; wear your kurta, before Lallan sees you like this.”

The weight of the red-green bunch of wires and the taxi meter like device seemed to pull me down, as if a metaphorical hand trying to stop me.

After getting ready, I called out for Lallan and he came running out of the kitchen, with drops of kheer on his lower lip. They will take care of him, I thought, his new family.

I knelt down only to come face to face with him. Kids grow so fast, it’s been four years and I had never even hugged him properly, now when it was time to leave, I wished if I could hug him for eternity.

I touched his arms and it reminded me of Sonia, smooth and fair. “I am going where Lallan?” I questioned only to check if he remembered what I told him last night.

“To bring mumma home” he replied licking his lower lip.

“Good and when we come back we want to see you as a strong boy, don’t cry in front of other kids as you do now, don’t let them think that you are weak. I love you.” I managed to say this in one go, fighting my chocking voice.

I hugged him and he held me back. Rivulets of tears flowed out of my eyes, finally! God, here I submit this little bundle of innocence into your hands.

I got up without looking at Lallan and moved out, out into the street. The meeting was to start in five minutes; their leaders must have reached by now. I walked faster. This was for Sonia.

Half an hour after the meeting began, all the targets I had to char to death were right in front of me, the gathering was to disperse in five minutes or so and I had still not garnered to strength to press the red button. Suspicious pair of eyes were spying on me from all corners of the pandal.

I had been always sceptical about hallucinations, until now when every women inside the pandal seemed to me like Sonia. No it is indeed Sonia. They are all her. She first died indirectly because of me, I cannot kill her this time too.

The sound of clappings finally started echoing, just like the thunder before a rain. I still can manage to sneak out of here. Will take Lallan and move out of this poisonous city. What a plan! As if I was coming back to my senses after a fit of drugs.

The moment I got up from my chair a hand stopped me, a hand stronger than mine.

“Not so soon bhai.”

I turned to see the face, but all I saw was a figure covered in shawl. The night seemed darker than usual and the handful of lights inside the pandal refused to reveal the face, but only a shiny object patiently waiting in his other hand.

In a blink of an eye, the sharp shiny object, pierced my flesh and crushed my bones, I could feel the cold edges of the blade on the sides of my rib cage. Suddenly the whole noise inside the tent seemed to have turned down, only the visuals of people running and scattering was all I could see, as if watching a movie on mute mode. The blood oozed out and I comfortably started lying down on my own bed of blood.

Eyes now seemed too heavy to be kept open. Before I could shut them a face started appearing in my mind’s eye, a calm serene face with a crescent shaped smile. Was it Sonia? No that must be God. I smiled back. But which God? Allah, Bhagwan or just our God.