All of us have an idea about the most inevitable truth of our lives and most of us have an opinion about it. Few optimistic and choosy ones don’t hesitate in even personalizing this part of their lives by deciding their place of death, the rituals to be followed after that, their dress on the death bed and the list goes on according to the financial status of the person. Probably, they ignore the fact that death is unpredictable though, up to some extent it can be postponed or delayed. With the help of modern medicines and technology we can delay somebody’s death but no one has ever been able to exactly predict the time of his or somebody else’s death. People often misinterpret saints when they announce typically in a function or gathering of their disciples that probably next year at same time they would not be there of being a prediction of their death. In fact, the real saints are least bothered about the phenomenon called ‘Death’. For them it is a blessing of their Father who gives them a new body-a new cloth, a new role for His drama on the stage of this planet.
With the upcoming cases of mercy killing we can easily observe that death can sometimes be the only desire and sometimes it can be the most unexpected and unwanted. Very often when we see some old person on his death bed, counting minutes and second or a person who has some incurable and painful disease, we wish that may God take him/her in His arms and let the soul rest in peace. On the contrary, sometimes death takes someone so abruptly that all others are left with nothing but a lifetime loss and a void which can never be filled. My heart and mind also has scars of such an exit in which death snatched away someone when he actually did not even know ‘Death’ properly. It would have been very unacceptable for me if somebody would have told me that morning that Zulfi and I would never ever be able to play cricket again and that the fights over the game of hide and seek would always be a part of my memories from the very same day. Just with a wind, he went away without even giving us a smallest hint. Probably, even he didn’t have any hint himself!
It was summer vacation and adding to it, a Monday- a working day! And, as always the two cricket champs of the colony had an open but secret plan of playing cricket the whole day. A 20 over match in the limitations of a campus occupied with similar looking 3 story buildings in such a pattern that only two major paths were there for the inmates to walk. But, childish excitements, as always have no boundaries. So, in that a small area the match was scheduled to start off at 11 AM sharp as soon as our respective parents leave for their respective offices. Probably, our mums had an idea about our ‘special match of two players’ and my mum had convinced Saeeba aunty for letting Zulfi have lunch at our place. After all, it was mummy’s special chicken Biryani for lunch and Zulfi remained to be the best admirer of Biryani cooked by my mum. I still remember, the jealousy and concern of the maid of the colony...she could not digest the friendship of that degree between a Hindu and a Muslim boy. We actually, were brothers and vacations always used to give us a chance to exhibit that fact making many people of either religion concerned and disgusted. May 17,1995, the unfateful Monday. Under the light and scorching heat of bright Sun, we two were playing. I had won the toss and had decided to bat first. Within the fixed overs I had managed to pull out a 48 run. I knew Zulfi was a better batsman than me and I had all the intentions of winning this one match by hook or by crook. He started his innings as usual by demoralising my tactful bowling. I was managing to limit him to the fours and not letting him hit a single six. But by the sixth over, his batting had become quite aggressive and I was sure of losing. The second ball of the sixth over and finally Zulfi hits first six in this match. It was decided that if the ball reaches any of the balconies, it would be considered a six. Zulfi’s shot had thrown the ball on the terrace of Srivastava uncle. And, his was the dirtiest and the creepiest terrace of all in the campus. His terrace was full of weeds hiding under which there were many strange creatures and importantly, it also hosted properly counted two dozens of strange plants in colourful pots which were ‘imported’ from Madhya Pradesh during Srivastava uncle’s official visit state once. The rules of the game said “who hits, he gets” so, Zulfi was to climb up and bring down the ball. He was scared and I was showing as if he made the biggest mistake by hitting a Six! Though very reluctant, finally he climbed up (the Srivastava family was on a world tour that summer) and in his loud voice he described the terrace as a hell in which many strange creatures existed and the sinful would be left with them to repent. He had got the ball and showed it to me from atop the three storied building. The glimpse of the ball only refilled the zest and enthusiasm for winning that match in me again. “Come down soon you lethargic sloth” I shouted, “I would come down with wind and you wouldn’t realise” was his reply and is recorded in my mind forever. I looked on the watch and it was 12:57 by my watch and I started giving him ideas about stopping the match for a tasty Biryani treat at my place in a loud shouting voice. Looking at watch and calculating time left with us to complete this match in absence of our mums I hadn’t even completed describing my plans to him when a strange thud sound made me curious. It was 12:59 and within a difference of two minutes the scene had drastically changed. Zulfi was on the crossing of the pitch paths of the campus and his head was bleeding. Blood coming out with a flow as if someone had opened a tap. I don’t remember the scenes after that but, as my mum told to me that I had fainted and the crooked maid had found both of us lying and called our parents.
I woke up and things had changed. Across the corridor, from Zulfi’s flat, till the morning Kalmas from Quran Sharif had mesmerised me and now when I woke up the loud crying of Saeeba aunty was horrifying me. I ran towards there flat to find the cause and was told that Zulfi was asleep and that now he will be with his best friend Allah Mia forever. They did not let me go to the burial ground. Slowly as this fact started sinking in me I started losing my peace and sleep. For many days, I could not digest this sudden change. I had lost a friend within no time! Things had changed a lot. Saeeba aunty whose chit chats sometimes used to irritate his son and me equally never spoke again until on the death bed where she barely uttered “ Zulfi....ammi aa rahi hain.....” and “ La Illaha Ill Allah Mohammad Rasool Allah”. It became very often that I would wake up in the mid of the night and start crying or would have nightmares. The impact was great. I would often ask mum and pundit ji that why God took Zulfi away and start crying. For many days I did not go to school and at the end refused to go to the same school ever again. For many days mum-dad had no clue about how to control me. Then one day after such an episode mum told me “think of Saeeba aunty and you would realise that you haven’t lost anything big.” This small sentence had snatched away my rights to cry for my friend and had forced me get back to normality in life. On that sentence I still wonder..actually I hadn’t lost anything big...just a friend without whom Bat and Ball still leave me in tears and guilt, just a friend without whom my one time favourite dish- Chicken Biryani has lost its flavour to an extent that now if it is kept on the table I don’t even feel like facing it, and just a brother with whom I could fight, play and share everything in my life. I had lost nothing big! Today, I only curse all those whom I can relate the fate and wait for Zulfi to come and say sorry for his lie when he said that he would come back with wind. I want to meet him and slap him and say “you didn’t come with the wind; you actually went away with it!”
With the upcoming cases of mercy killing we can easily observe that death can sometimes be the only desire and sometimes it can be the most unexpected and unwanted. Very often when we see some old person on his death bed, counting minutes and second or a person who has some incurable and painful disease, we wish that may God take him/her in His arms and let the soul rest in peace. On the contrary, sometimes death takes someone so abruptly that all others are left with nothing but a lifetime loss and a void which can never be filled. My heart and mind also has scars of such an exit in which death snatched away someone when he actually did not even know ‘Death’ properly. It would have been very unacceptable for me if somebody would have told me that morning that Zulfi and I would never ever be able to play cricket again and that the fights over the game of hide and seek would always be a part of my memories from the very same day. Just with a wind, he went away without even giving us a smallest hint. Probably, even he didn’t have any hint himself!
It was summer vacation and adding to it, a Monday- a working day! And, as always the two cricket champs of the colony had an open but secret plan of playing cricket the whole day. A 20 over match in the limitations of a campus occupied with similar looking 3 story buildings in such a pattern that only two major paths were there for the inmates to walk. But, childish excitements, as always have no boundaries. So, in that a small area the match was scheduled to start off at 11 AM sharp as soon as our respective parents leave for their respective offices. Probably, our mums had an idea about our ‘special match of two players’ and my mum had convinced Saeeba aunty for letting Zulfi have lunch at our place. After all, it was mummy’s special chicken Biryani for lunch and Zulfi remained to be the best admirer of Biryani cooked by my mum. I still remember, the jealousy and concern of the maid of the colony...she could not digest the friendship of that degree between a Hindu and a Muslim boy. We actually, were brothers and vacations always used to give us a chance to exhibit that fact making many people of either religion concerned and disgusted. May 17,1995, the unfateful Monday. Under the light and scorching heat of bright Sun, we two were playing. I had won the toss and had decided to bat first. Within the fixed overs I had managed to pull out a 48 run. I knew Zulfi was a better batsman than me and I had all the intentions of winning this one match by hook or by crook. He started his innings as usual by demoralising my tactful bowling. I was managing to limit him to the fours and not letting him hit a single six. But by the sixth over, his batting had become quite aggressive and I was sure of losing. The second ball of the sixth over and finally Zulfi hits first six in this match. It was decided that if the ball reaches any of the balconies, it would be considered a six. Zulfi’s shot had thrown the ball on the terrace of Srivastava uncle. And, his was the dirtiest and the creepiest terrace of all in the campus. His terrace was full of weeds hiding under which there were many strange creatures and importantly, it also hosted properly counted two dozens of strange plants in colourful pots which were ‘imported’ from Madhya Pradesh during Srivastava uncle’s official visit state once. The rules of the game said “who hits, he gets” so, Zulfi was to climb up and bring down the ball. He was scared and I was showing as if he made the biggest mistake by hitting a Six! Though very reluctant, finally he climbed up (the Srivastava family was on a world tour that summer) and in his loud voice he described the terrace as a hell in which many strange creatures existed and the sinful would be left with them to repent. He had got the ball and showed it to me from atop the three storied building. The glimpse of the ball only refilled the zest and enthusiasm for winning that match in me again. “Come down soon you lethargic sloth” I shouted, “I would come down with wind and you wouldn’t realise” was his reply and is recorded in my mind forever. I looked on the watch and it was 12:57 by my watch and I started giving him ideas about stopping the match for a tasty Biryani treat at my place in a loud shouting voice. Looking at watch and calculating time left with us to complete this match in absence of our mums I hadn’t even completed describing my plans to him when a strange thud sound made me curious. It was 12:59 and within a difference of two minutes the scene had drastically changed. Zulfi was on the crossing of the pitch paths of the campus and his head was bleeding. Blood coming out with a flow as if someone had opened a tap. I don’t remember the scenes after that but, as my mum told to me that I had fainted and the crooked maid had found both of us lying and called our parents.
I woke up and things had changed. Across the corridor, from Zulfi’s flat, till the morning Kalmas from Quran Sharif had mesmerised me and now when I woke up the loud crying of Saeeba aunty was horrifying me. I ran towards there flat to find the cause and was told that Zulfi was asleep and that now he will be with his best friend Allah Mia forever. They did not let me go to the burial ground. Slowly as this fact started sinking in me I started losing my peace and sleep. For many days, I could not digest this sudden change. I had lost a friend within no time! Things had changed a lot. Saeeba aunty whose chit chats sometimes used to irritate his son and me equally never spoke again until on the death bed where she barely uttered “ Zulfi....ammi aa rahi hain.....” and “ La Illaha Ill Allah Mohammad Rasool Allah”. It became very often that I would wake up in the mid of the night and start crying or would have nightmares. The impact was great. I would often ask mum and pundit ji that why God took Zulfi away and start crying. For many days I did not go to school and at the end refused to go to the same school ever again. For many days mum-dad had no clue about how to control me. Then one day after such an episode mum told me “think of Saeeba aunty and you would realise that you haven’t lost anything big.” This small sentence had snatched away my rights to cry for my friend and had forced me get back to normality in life. On that sentence I still wonder..actually I hadn’t lost anything big...just a friend without whom Bat and Ball still leave me in tears and guilt, just a friend without whom my one time favourite dish- Chicken Biryani has lost its flavour to an extent that now if it is kept on the table I don’t even feel like facing it, and just a brother with whom I could fight, play and share everything in my life. I had lost nothing big! Today, I only curse all those whom I can relate the fate and wait for Zulfi to come and say sorry for his lie when he said that he would come back with wind. I want to meet him and slap him and say “you didn’t come with the wind; you actually went away with it!”
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