Page 209 - Musings 2020

Farhaan ran again, for his life, but this time not in fear or desperation. For he had no thoughts
of his friends or family. He ran only for himself, only as a man with nothing left can. Soon
Farhaan reached a part of the city with some life. There were signs of the riot here, but people
hadn’t run away. Yet. A sense of dread hit him. These people must be Hindus. Why else
would they be continuing life as normal? The dread in his heart was replaced by cold anger.
Farhaan was considering revenge. He was never a man for violence, but the thought of people
enjoying a deep sleep without weight on their conscience burnt in the pit of his stomach. He
wanted to set fire to these buildings. Burn all these houses to ash, so that they may feel his
wrath.

The wave of nausea hit him amid these thoughts of violence. He was disgusted by himself.
He was dizzy from all the exertion. He hadn’t slept or eaten for such a long time. Farhaan
noticed a well behind one of the houses. He could use a drink. Silently, he made his way to
the well to get a drink. There he saw that the pulley was broken, and there was no pail to get
water. At this point, Farhaan was at his wit’s end. He burst into tears and fell down sobbing to
the ground. Farhaan had given up. He didn’t care anymore. He wasn’t intended to survive this
hell. He would have preferred to die with his friends or family. At least he would have
embraced their love before death. Farhaan crawled behind a bush behind the well and lay
down. He closed his eyes and felt exhaustion overwhelm him. Maybe God would grant him a
merciful death in sleep.

Farhaan awoke to the cool touch of raindrops on his face. He must have slept through the
entire day. It was a miracle no one found him. As he wondered, he felt the pangs of hunger.
He was famished. Then, he noticed a small tumbler of water beside him and a ball of rice on
the ground. It was wrapped in a dry leaf, definitely the work of a human. Someone must have
left it out for him to find. It must have been the work of an angel. Farhaan, thanking the
person profusely in his thoughts, dug into the rice. It was the sweetest morsel of food he had
ever tasted in his life. Farhaan felt a renewed hope in mankind. He wanted to run into the
house and fall on his saviour’s feet. But he stopped himself. He was in the wrong to expect
further hospitality. He must leave this neighbourhood as soon as possible. The only thing he
could do to thank his guardian angel was to ensure that his presence would never be known.
Grimacing at this cruel joke of fate, Farhaan hobbled away from the house. He would have to
make his way to the railway station soon.

Farhaan did not know if he would live to his old age. But he knew that if one could find some
sympathy for him, then definitely man was not doomed to hell. With this feeling in his heart,
Farhaan strode towards an uncertain future. Maybe he would cross the border and start a new
life. Maybe he would be killed on the way. But he didn’t care anymore. He had glimpsed
some semblance of God in man.

209