Sajjad Ahmed January 11, 2007

Tags: partition , short story , introspection

Short Story

href="/tag/family">family that was killed during riots of 1947. During the last sixteen years he did everything to acquire what he had. Life seemed to be treating him well and the world was a happier place to live in.

But for a few days he had been waking up during the night, drenched in sweat. It was a dream he’s been having lately. He would see a burning building with him being the only one left, trying to find a way out of there. Whenever he would reach the main entrance of that building, he wouldn’t be able to see anything because of the charred walls enclosing him. At this instant he would wake up. He still hasn’t been able to interpret his dream.

This morning while he was busy working in his office he suddenly recalled that particular nightmare. He felt stifled at the thought and got up for a breath of fresh air.

A beggar came down the street just as Humayun emerged from his office. He was blind, carrying a traditional battered cane, and thumping his way before him, with every cautious step. His hand seemed to have gripped the cane desperately. His clothes looked greasy and he wore a black pouch slung over his shoulder. Apparently, he had something to sell.

The morning air was pleasant with the warmth of the sun radiating all around. Standing in front of his office, Humayun noticed the fatigued stride of the blind man. A sudden rush of a foolish sort of pity for all blind people unnerved him. Humayun thought that he was very fortunate to be alive. A few years ago he had been a little more than a skilled laborer, now he was respected and admired…and he had done it all alone and unaided. He wished the beggar could do the same. He took a step forward, just as the blind man passed him. The beggar turned his way all of a sudden.

“Could I have a minute of your time.” the blind man muttered.
“It’s late. I have to go. Do you want me to give you something?” Humayun said.
“I am not a beggar. I’ve got a handy little article here.” The blind man replied.

He fumbled until he could press a small object into Humayun’s hand, "...one rupee…best cigarette lighter made..."

Humayun stood there somewhat flustered and annoyed. He was a handsome fellow with his immaculate gray suit and perfect shoes...of course this blind man with the cigarette lighters could not see him...

"But I don’t smoke," he said.
"Listen, I bet you know plenty of people who smoke, it can be a nice little present, don’t you think?" he wheedled. "And wouldn’t you think of helping out a poor man?” He clung onto Humayun’s sleeve.

Humayun dug his hand into the pocket of his vest. He brought out some rupees and pressed them into the blind man’s hand. "Certainly I will help you out. As you’re saying I could gift the lighter to someone, maybe the peon". He hesitated, not wishing to sound coarse and inquisitive, even to a blind hawker. "Have you lost your sight completely?"

The scruffy man pocketed the rupee. "Sixteen years, sir." Then he added with an insane sort of pride "Amritsar, sir. I was one of them."

"Amritsar," repeated Humayun. “Ah yes the partition riots...the papers have inked it for years. But at this time it is meant to be one of the greatest tragedies in...”

"They have all forgotten about it." interrupted the blind man as he shifted his feet with a sigh. "But I tell you sir, a man who was in it doesn’t forget about a thing like that. Last thing I saw was a shop going up in blaze and the fire began to drive all over the broken windows...just think about it sir. There were several people killed, a dozen injured, and some had lost their eyes….blind as bats….. I was just a salesman working for what was in it and I got it. You want to know how I lost my eyes?" noting that Humayun had been quiet all this while, listening. "Well here it is!” he spat out bitterly. "I was in the shop with a lot of people hurrying out onto the street, there trying to escape. The majority of the people made it safely to the door, and just when as I was about to crawl out, a hefty-looking guy grabbed my legs. He said, "Hey! Let me get past you!" and he hauled me back. Maybe he was mad, I don’t know but I did try to forgive him. He pulled me back and then he climbed over me! So did many other people who took the chance to do so. I was left behind in the dirt with all that fire and smoke pouring all around me.” The blind man suddenly stopped at that point.

“That’s the story sir."

"Not quite" said Humayun.

With an incredulous expression on his face, the blind man retorted. "Not quite? What do you mean….not quite?"

"The story is true," Humayun said, "……except it is the other way around……"

"Other way around?” he croaked unbelievably. "Say what -”


Humayun replied in a muted tone. “I was there. It was the other way around. You were that big fellow who hauled me back inside and stepped all over me. You used to be bigger than I was…Sheryar...”

The blind man stood still for what seemed to be an eternity. He gulped "Humayun. I thought you - " And then he started to scream with rage, "Yes maybe so. But I am blind! I’m blind and you’ve been standing there ridiculing me every minute!"

People in the street turned to gawk at them.

"You got away, but I am blind! I am blind, do you hear?"

"Well don’t make so much noise about it Sheryar!" said Humayun "After all...so am I."