Bold And Beautiful
Imtaiz : Asghar uncle Aslam e alikum! Get me one cigarette pack and one sting please
Asgher Uncle (Shopkeeper): Son Imtaiz takes it easy, less cigarettes and energy drinks won't hurt.
Imtaiz: Takes a deep breath and replies with a ‘hmm’ and sits on a seat placed with the only table in the shop.
Imtaiz is joined with other observers from various professions. He keenly looks around the room and people.
The scorching heat of the sun gets even worse with the clock ticking away. His gaze gets fixed on a beggar, who looks like a man in his early adulthood. Imtaiz instantly drops his gaze when his eyes meet that of beggar’s. To Imtaiz’s surprise, the beggar asked for no money but simply requested to lend him a lighter.
Imtaiz’s complete disgust with him was apparent but he gave the lighter anyways. His revulsion was further validated by the fact that while taking the lighter back he rubbed it with his handkerchief, in order to clean it.
Noticing his reaction the beggar replied in a very sorrowful tone “ Sorry sir we are not as filthy as you think”.
Imtaiz : Excuse me dear.
Beggar sat next to him in distress which didn't go unnoticed by Imtaiz.
Imtaiz: If you don’t mind! May I ask you the reason for this gloomy expression on your face.
Beggar: Nothing!
As if he was reluctant to share his details to a stranger..
Fifteen minutes to this and Imtaiz lights up his fourth cigarette. As the burning of a cigarette paper, falling ashes and youthness on Imtaiz's face triggers the beggar to question him about his lifestyle.
Beggar: Asalam O Alaikum! Why don’t you invest your time and energy into something useful and quit smoking for it carries with a high risk factor of developing many physical and mental ailments.
Imtaiz: Walaikum us salam! yeah I understand and will keep trying to get rid of it.
Imtaiz had that feeling that the beggar’s intentions were to plead with him for some money but it turned out that the beggar wanted a good 15 minutes heart-to-heart discussion. He realised his wrong observation led to a very wrong perception of the person who just told him that he sees his son in Imtaiz.
The conversation that started between the two was now turning into a bold conversation as the beggar starts telling him the hardship his son is facing.
Imtaiz being a genius wanted to gain maximum information on what are the likely problems that a beggar faces in his everyday life.
After they were both in a mood for a healthy conversation and relatively more comfortable than before. Imtaiz thought it is better to call by one another’s name.
Imtaiz: Oh well! My good name is Imtaiz. What’s yours? a
Beggar: “Lalu”
Imtaiz couldn’t quell his curiosity and immediately asked “ Lalu why your name is like no other name on the earth, I suppose?
Beggar laughs hiding his guilt and replies : “Lalu, yes Lalu! It was given to me by my guru and other people in our team. Since the I have been dubbed as ‘Lalu the beggar’. Lalu is a punjabi word meaning utter loo in urdu and english out of your cloth. As I was weak among other companions they used me as fulfilling their sexual desire. So whenever in morning or night , whatever was in order to fulfill their desires they would call me lalu. And then takes me behind the tree or on streets hugging me from back.
It is like Imtaiz's head is struck with some heavy metal listening to this as he sees no shame, a little shame no where on a beggar's face. He was expecting that beggar might have tears in his eyes.
Imtaiz says to begger, i don't believe you, this all is bullshit, why are you not embarrassed sharing all this, atleast little of it you should have.
Begger replies, shame what shame it is a sex business in our profession it is a normal thing but the pain to endure eveyones sexual desire is what, what what....( started sreaming) Oh my child oh my child.. i don't wanted my child to be into it, he was weak, he was weak like me oh ali o ali i can't do anything the pain you are beared
The scream is heard by all people sitting around, from various professions and Imtaiz too. All stars consoling him and joining the conversion as everyone's curiosity increased for completion of the story.
Imtaiz asks how marriage happens in your profession.
Beggar narrates listen dear,
There are no marriages in our profession but accidently i met a girl. We both at the mid years of our age started begging for 2 years after which my companion for begging was supposed to be changed.
Imtaiz, yes yes in our business terminology it is called rotation of jobs.
Beggar oh dear let me complete listen,
We both Ruqia and me working together in our youthful years had fallen in love with each other. We after begging on streets use to plan for lovely life we would have we would have a child and his name would be ali and daughter would naghma.
That night we had sex with our future planing of our first daughter. it was like the night was to never end as i personally wished it would never end but it was supposed to end. The next morning sun struck our eyes and what next was a feeling of a new dawn. We went through every way knocking with a ring that ruqia and I put in each other's fingers on windows of cars trucks and sometimes on the helmet of bike riders. Everyday we would plan, everynight i would bring a rose for her after giving our money to our gurus. We would save it for our child. I and my love had saved a huge amount of 1 million Pakistani rupees. And that day had come when our first child was born lucky a daughter and a god gifted daughter a handicap
Imtaiz in disgust shouts: “ You daughter being handicapped for life! Is it a blessing for you? How exactly is it a bliss ? Is it because you think her misery will help you earn bread?
Beggar changed his posture and with confidence like he has more to this story replies” Yes , she is god gifted! Weeping as he starts narrating the story of his first- born child. My absolutely normal child was a victim of assault when he turned 5 years old. My guru took him by force and cut his arms till the shoulder and spilled boiled oil on his right eye that made him blind from one eye. Oh God !Oh God! I was helpless, it was all in front of me. Everynight I was to made a bed with my own loved son having sex with him. Oh my my in a month my daughter was sold to another guru for merely five hundred thousands. My pain never stopped oh not my pain as it was very much common in our profession. My son was making enough money as I was not, he started being praised by our guru. Days and days passed and my son and daughter reached their youth. My daughter was blessed with four kids at a time not knowing their fathers. That was the time my guru started praising me and was offered to him every night. And in the morning ladies were offered to me as I became the good one amongst all the other beggars. And there came a time when my loved girl was offered to me to make my bed as a prize for so much I have given. Things were so smooth we started living all in our lives. I heard from my daughter and son everyday.
After attaining maturity and understanding his happenings on the moral and ethical grounds he started opposing the customs. He then one day mustered up the courage to break the chain and ran away. He ran towards a police officer with the hope that he would come to his rescue. But all his hopes went in vain. He was abducted by the police officer and given back in Guru’s custody. As a consequence, he was hanged in front of me on the tree and beaten to death. A twenty five journey of his already misserious life came to an end with his helpless father right in front of him. Day after day , I was wallowing in the pain more than ever. I was on the roads again and wanted to be among the onlookers. Wanted to see how much uglier these street lives are.This is my new life. I started observing all and simultaneously following killers of my son to date. Keenly looking at my community, I realised there were ongoing tragedies almost everywhere and my family was chosen to face this agony as well. Moreover our gurus were not simple gurus! They paid police officers, road and development authorities , bata jaga tax (money for begging on the streets) and offered a token of love by presenting a girl or a boy whenever they reached out.
Imtiaz, this is how the world operated. All people who are begging are like this.
Beggar yes in our profession this is the case but not all but people on streets in markets are just like these. As I went more into it I started learning another profession of stealing a young born child from a hospital that was sold to us.
One day it was a stormy day when I saw my guru was moving with one of the MNAs along with my daughter's guru. The day this happened I closed all the doors for my heart to beat and expect life.
Exhaling oh my oh my oh my Allah and. Lean his back against the seat.
Imtiaz could not bear it and his eyes were full of tears. How much pain one has to suffer.
Another person from the profession of film industry came forward and claims this is nothing. I will share customs of the film industry.
Imtiaz: oh dear oh dear what is left is the world yet not cruel enough? (takes a deep breath)
To be continued...........
