Of Smokeless Fire A.A. Jafri (books to read to improve english TXT) 📖

had stood by Kaneez all this time, despite the rumours and the innuendoes. He defied them when they called her a churail; he ignored them when they called her a fornicator; and he fought them when they named their child a harami. But now she lay there, possessed by a djinn, tenuously clinging to life.

When he reached home, he found Kaneez losing and regaining consciousness between bouts of epileptic seizures. He sat by her and carefully gave her the medicine every four hours, just as the compounder had prescribed. Her condition worsened with every passing day. Naseebun came daily, pressurizing Jumman to let the malang, the faith healer, see her. She had no doubt that Kaneez was possessed by a djinn, and the only one who could cure her was Malang Miran Shah. Jumman was not opposed to the idea; he had seen the malangs move things in the air without touching them, he had seen them levitate. The man believed in them, but he wanted the doctor to treat Kaneez first. So, the next day, he sent Mehrun to fetch Dr Minwalla, but she too came back empty-handed. Finally, Jumman relented and agreed to let the malang come and purge the djinn out from his woman’s body. But no sooner did he accede to Naseebun’s pleas than a black Morris Minor came to a stop two houses before Jumman’s. Wearing sunglasses and a white doctor’s coat over her saree, Dr Minwalla stepped out of the car with a black physician’s bag in her hand. Naseebun came out to greet her.

‘Which one is Kaneez’s house?’ the doctor asked.

‘You must be the Doctor Sahiba. Kaneez is doing well now. You don’t need to see her.’

‘I am not asking for your opinion. If you don’t tell me where Kaneez lives, I will call the police and put you in jail.’

The threat of police action worked, and Naseebun led the doctor to their house. As she entered the dilapidated house, Minwalla took off her dark glasses and put on her prescription glasses. When she saw Kaneez lying unconscious on a mattress on the floor and Jumman sitting on his cot, she reprimanded him for being thoughtless.

‘Put her on the charpoy and fetch me that chair.’

Jumman lifted Kaneez, her hand dangling lifelessly, and slowly lowered her on to his charpoy, while Mehrun pulled the chair forward for the doctor. Dr Minwalla took out a stethoscope from her bag and began listening to Kaneez’s breathing; she then checked her pulse.

‘I am not sure what is wrong with her, but something is wrong. I want you to take her to the Civil Hospital first thing in the morning. Do you understand? And when she wakes up, give her the medicine I gave you.’

Jumman just nodded his head. Putting the stethoscope back in her physician’s bag, the doctor got up and quickly walked out. Mehrun saw her driver reversing the car. After she had left, Naseebun, who had been watching intently from the entrance of the house all this while, came in and addressed Jumman, ‘Don’t listen to that witch. If you take Kaneez to the hospital, they will tear open her stomach and kill her. The malang is going to be here early in the morning. Let him work his power. He is a man of Allah. He can cure everything.’

*

The malang came early the next morning, but before entering the house, he chanted something at the door, not in Arabic or Urdu but in some strange language that no one understood, and he rolled his head at the same time. Dressed in a long, black cotton robe, his dirty black hair matted and tied in braids, and his thick black moustache blending with his bushy black beard, he seemed like a madman from the caves of Bela, Baluchistan. Three necklaces of turquoise beads and a shallow wooden bowl hung from his neck. In his right hand, he held a crooked wooden staff. He had instructed Naseebun to have ready for him seven chattak (an old unit of measurement) of uncooked rice, eight chattak of uncooked grams and six chattak of ghee, thus creating the number 786, the numerical representation of the phrase Bismillah-ir-Rahman nir-Rahim, ‘in the name of Allah, the Most Beneficent and Merciful’, which are the opening words of every chapter in the Qur’an. With the help of a few alarmed neighbours who were keen to drive the djinn out of their alley, the woman had obtained everything that the malang had requested.

Inside the house, the malang lit up seven joss sticks, their overpowering smell hanging stubbornly in the small space. With the groundwork done, he ordered everyone to leave the house, and once alone, he locked the door from inside. Mehrun ran to the back of the house and peeped in through the cracks in the wooden window. She saw the malang slowly approach the sleeping Kaneez, touching her forehead, caressing her face and then fondling her breasts. The very next instant, Kaneez woke up with a terrifying scream, as if ready to defend her honour. The malang jumped back, ran towards the door and unlocked it. He then motioned Jumman and Naseebun to come inside. In a hushed tone, he said to them, ‘I have woken the djinn up, and now I will get him out of her body.’

Mehrun ran back to the front door. She saw the malang going for his staff, and then suddenly, without any warning, he began beating Kaneez violently with it. It was as though he had become possessed by the very same djinn he was trying to purge out of Kaneez’s body. Jumman tried to intervene, but Naseebun stopped him. Mehrun hid her face with her hands and began weeping.

‘Let the Malang Sahib do his work, child. He is a man of God. He is beating the djinn and not your mother. Believe me, she is not feeling a thing. You will see; she will get well,’ she tried to mollify Mehrun.

By this time, Kaneez had