Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd smiled.
She was now fucking me wildly moving her buttocks in rapid back and forth movements.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus looked at her somewhat surprised.
Evidently, she didn’t expect it from Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd.
She expected tears from her and a horrible scene.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was prepared for both.
“Damn her!” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus gritted through her teeth to herself.
Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd was quite confident and in immense possession of her faculties.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus expected Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd couldn’t listen to the awful things she was saying.
She would turn and run out of the house.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus had planned to call after Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd that she had until tomorrow night to move her things out, otherwise she would move them herself.
Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd’s quite composure had thrown her off her grounds.
It was evident now that Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd had herself transformed in her three months’ vacation.
Evidently, Durgesh was not fucking Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd today.
Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd feigned it that she fucked me one month ago first time and surrendered her virginity.
Actually, she was smart enough to fool Al Safiyah Al Ghaus’s private detectives and had done it right under their nose, four months ago.*
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm watched me.
What a man!
Equally popular among every age group of Musalmān Beauties.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was Durgesh’s young Musalmān live in relationship partner.
Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim could be handled by Durgesh and Durgesh only, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had advised Al Nāsirah Al Karīm.
“But Al Muħammad Al Qāsim wants my problem child to marry Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand.”
“Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand?” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had laughed, “He would never marry a gambling girl.”
“We need Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand to face Al Safiyah Al Ghaus.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled patronizingly.
“Al Safiyah Al Ghaus needs Durgesh’s violent nonstop sex kicks, Al Nāsirah Al Karīm.”
“Act wisely. Al Safiyah Al Ghaus married Al Nadīm Al Quddūs because Al Nadīm Al Quddūs is Al Muħammad Al Qāsim’s elder brother. And Al Muħammad Al Qāsim is a billionaire. You are a trillionaire. Put Durgesh in front of her. Durgesh is a multi-zillionaire. Get rid of the both problem women you have.”
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm thought and decided to act under the shrewdest guidance of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.*
I was listening to Al Nāsirah Al Karīm.
“I’m making up some of my lost life. I was brought up according to rigid, puritanic, Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān standards.None of the people around me took time out to enjoy life. They couldn’t enjoy youth because they were preparing to take part in life, as if Hindus never do it. You Hindus, in my opinion, are enjoying life utmost optimum. The utmost Musalmān Beauties fuck you/you Hindus. Why the hell they don’t even learn from you/you Hindus how to enjoy life utmost optimum as well as to take part in it the best they can?”
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm was furious.
“Because we Musalmān Beauties are also damn fools as our Musalmān mankind is.”
I kept smiling non-commitally.
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm went on furiously.
“What we utmost Musalmān Beauties enjoy with you/you Hindus is only an infinitesimally significant part of your grand superb every way accomplished life. I was a damn fool that I married Al Chughad Al Muħammad Al Qāsim. I must have married you. Even as one of your infinite live in relationship partners I would have gained more.”
“Thank you.” I smiled graciously, sophisticatedly, “Thank you very much. You have honored me very much, as well as us Hindus too.”
“Hey,” Al Nāsirah Al Karīm laughed mischievously, “you are honoring me as well. Thank you very much.”
I looked at her perplexed.
“Sorry, I couldn’t understand you.”
She pointed her pointing finger toward between my legs.
“You have a nice erection there.”
I smiled sophisticatedly, elegantly.
“Are you? Really?” Al Nāsirah Al Karīm smiled cunningly, “For honoring my Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān extraordinary beauty in such a nice way?”
I laughed urbanely.
“Want to do what it’s demanding?” Al Nāsirah Al Karīm marched to me confidently and looked into my Hindu male eyes invitingly.
“If you are kind enough to honor my intentions too.” I too looked into Al Nāsirah Al Karīm’s extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān eyes.
She grabbed my rocking hard Uncut Hindu Penis.
“I said I kicked loose from the conventional traces.”
I hugged Al Nāsirah Al Karīm.
“Poor Al Muħammad Al Qāsim.” I whispered.
“Poor.” Al Nāsirah Al Karīm said significantly.
We kissed each other passionately.
She kept on holding my rock hard Uncut Hindu Penis.
Rather her hold on it more and more strengthened.
“Ravenous?” I whispered.
“Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, my husband, is a hell of a lover. He is only a money magnet. They say you are both.”
I cupped her buttocks.
“Nice Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān flesh you have there.”
“Thank you; enjoy in any manner whatsoever you damn please.” Al Nāsirah Al Karīm said smiling at me seductively.
We both undressed each other.
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm kissed my Uncut Hindu Penis.
I kissed her beautiful Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt.
She pushed me back.
I fell on my back.
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm straddled me on my mouth keeping her Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt on my lips and licking my Uncut Hindu Penis as well.
Eīshān Eīshān shammā shamīshān!
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm was extremely beautiful.
She was more beautiful in her glorious Musalmān nudity.
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm swallowed my Uncut Hindu Lund into her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth and started sucking me ravenously.
“Your first, darling?” I asked with immense love in my voice.
“Sure.” Al Nāsirah Al Karīm smiled suavely, “Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, my damn fool husband hates oral sex.”
“How nice of him.” I said, “I am your first in your mouth.”
“And you’ll be the last too. Your Uncut Hindu Lund is very tasty.”
“I think I can have you in my mouth from now on whenever I damn please?”
“Oh sure, my pleasure, darling.”
“Hey, your Uncut Hindu Penis is still growing into my mouth. Wonderful. That’s a phenomenon, a miracle.”
“Thank you, enjoy.”
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm sucked me for almost one hour.
Then she straddled me once more.
Now she was facing me boldly.
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm herself positioned my Uncut Hindu Penis between her quivering ravenous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān labial lips.
Then instead pushing herself on it, she smiled at me.
“I won’t let you fuck me first. I am ravenous to fuck you myself. Sorry.”
“Go ahead. You are most welcome.” I smiled gracefully.*
Elbows on the rail, we looked down on the heads and shoulders of people leaning over the rails on the lower decks.
It was a latest ultramodern HVSI ship.
Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd was glad that Al Safiyah Al Ghaus had ultimately arranged her three months’ vacation.
She was gladder that her Uncle Al Muħammad Al Qāsim had managed me to accompany her in her vacation.
How grateful to Allah she was.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus had successfully disinherited her from his own Abbū, Al Nadīm Al Quddūs’s property.
Yet, her Uncle Al Muħammad Al Qāsim had offered her to support from thereon.
Iyyāka nåbudu wa iyyaāka nastaåīnu.
Sirātallazīn anåmt ålayhim ghairil maghzūbi ålayhim wa lā alazzwāllīn.
Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd smiled at me.
“There’s the couple we saw last night in the restaurant.” she squeezed my hand.
I followed the direction of her gaze.
“She was in our cabin when our baggage came aboard.”
“Åāliyah Muħammad Ůsmān?” I said gravely.
Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd smiled at me.
“Hey, you know her? Have you already fucked her even before me?”
“Nonsense.” I admonished Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd, “She is the youngest daughter of Muħammad Ůsmān from his first wife Zaynab Muħammad Åbdullah. And I haven’t fucked every Musalmān Beauty I know ever.”
“That’s why Åāliyah Muħammad Ůsmān is fooling around with that Underworld Don, Shankar Mahāpralayankar.” Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd winked at me, “The damn fool doesn’t know how hard your Uncut Hindu Lund is for us Musalmān Beauties. Even Shankar Mahāpralayankar’s Uncut Hindu Lund doesn’t stand anywhere in comparison to your unique legendary Uncut Hindu Lund.”
“Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd, please! Can’t you comparatively younger Musalmān Beauties think of anything else?”
“Hey, you munāfiq, you hypocrite, what anything else is there to think of, better than your Uncut Hindu Lund, for us Musalmān Beauties?”*
I spanked Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd on her gorgeous Musalmān buttocks.
“Sālī, try to think something else too beside sex.”
“I’m neither that old nor crazy.”
I kissed her.
“Okay. Want me inside?”
“Don’t ask me ever, you idiot. Just go ahead and fuck me.”
She undressed me, kissed my Uncut Hindu Penis, licked it, then pushed me on my back and straddled me on my mouth in 69.
Her young adult Musalmān Cunt rested on my lips and she swallowed my Uncut Hindu Prick into her absolutely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī young Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth.
It was rock hard already.
“Have you noticed something, Hindu fucker of us Musalmān Beauties?” she asked.
“I notice many things.” I winked at her, “What do you have?”
“In this ever largest ship, there are not Ashvinātam couples only. Most of them are Musalmān couples actually. But I don’t see even a single Musalmān fucking his Musalmān wife. Instead, several of them are watching their Musalmān wives either fucking Hindu males, or the Hindu males fucking their Musalmān wives.”
“I know some of them personally. They hate Hindus very much. Yet, here…”
“They are taking it absolutely normal?” I smiled.
“Isn’t it surprising?”
“I don’t think so.”
“It’s normal in this atmosphere. Most of the Musalmān Beauties on the ship believe that only Hindu males are their perfect match. Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s Seven movements: Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club, Cuckold Your Musalmān husband, Ashvinātam Gangbang Club, Al Jihād fil Durgesh fī sabīlillāh, Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad, Durgesh Farīdah Jalāl Sheikħ Sex Therapy and Durgesh Åāýéshah Siddīqah Social Service, have now created a mass belief of it. Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan has vowed to establish Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah replacing Pseudo Islam completely.”
“So many persons now believe Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is Kħātūn-e-Jannatrza personified, reincarnated.”
“Reincarnation is a Hindu belief, Durgesh. Islam doesn’t support reincarnation.”
“I know. Yet, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan has successfully made most of the Musalmīn believe that. Now it’s a mass belief whether true or untrue.”
“Mass belief is a tangible psychic force. Notice the authentic stories of persons who have violated Hindu Lund Muslim Choot Islands beliefs. Almost all of them met with disaster. Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan has successfully established her dream society Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah on those islands. There are so many orthodox Musalmān families that didn’t have any male child. Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan spread the rumors among them that if they visit Hindu Lund Muslim Choot Islands and leave at least one of their lady members there to establish Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah they would certainly have a male child in their family.”
“And it happens?”
“And it happens.” I said, “Hundreds of Thousands of minds believe it now. Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan used her seven movements successfully to do it.”
“How the hell otherwise can you explain it?”
“Well,” Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd laughed mischievously winking at me, “how interesting, how sexy, how miraculous and how true nevertheless.”
“Are you telling me?” I said gravely.
“Here comes Muħammad Ůsmān. But, hey, he doesn’t have his first wife, Zaynab Muħammad Åbdullah, with him. Åāliyah Muħammad Åbbās, his newly wed fourth Musalmān wife’s elder sister, Tasbīħ Muħammad Åbbās is with him.” Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd smiled astutely.*
Muħammad Ůsmān smiled at me energetically.
“Hi, Jījū, enjoying my one more sister?”
“Definitely not,” Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd held her beautiful proudly, “He is a bloody softie moralist Hindu, not far better than any bastard Musalmān. He won’t enjoy any of your bold Musalmān sisters ever. Your bold Musalmān sister is enjoying the silly Hindu Jījū of yours.”
Muħammad Ůsmān laughed.
“Jījū, she is dynamite.”
“Don’t worry sālé. I enjoy playing with these dynamites. Let her bark whatsoever she wants to. My Uncut Hindu Lund in her Musalmān Choot can take care of her even more than optimum.”
Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd winked at me.
Muħammad Ůsmān and Tasbīħ Muħammad Åbbās laughed.
Tasbīħ Muħammad Åbbās had retained a slender graceful Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān figure and walked with long, easy strides.
Her dark brown eyes studied my ever-young face gravely, sophisticatedly yet seductively.
I never met any Beauty in my life that didn’t looked at me seductively.
I didn’t know why.
Was it my infinite Bhogyantrānk?
Well, what the hell anything else could it be?
If I was handsome, still in my sixty-three, I wasn’t alone.
Tasbīħ Muħammad Åbbās watched me with interest then swung to Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd.
Muħammad Ůsmān, however, didn’t as much as shift his eye from my Uncut Hindu Prick penetrating Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd’s graceful young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt.
She had changed her position in the meantime, yet still straddling me.
I watched Tasbīħ Muħammad Åbbās and Muħammad Ůsmān as they passed Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd and me.
Muħammad Ůsmān was now staring with preoccupation at the dark curtain of night beyond the magnificent latest new model HVSI ship.
Tasbīħ Muħammad Åbbās was frankly sizing up her fellow passengers.
“You’ve met her?” I asked Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd watching Tasbīħ Muħammad Åbbās still now.
“Yes, they were in our cabin for a few minutes. You were in the bathroom then.”
I once more stared down at the couple on the lower deck.
Åāliyah Muħammad Ůsmān and Shankar Mahāpralayankar were still there.*
I was watching now the intermittent, irregular, flashing of signal lights, inhaling the scents of the warm tropical air.
The decks became silent and deserted.
The passengers had sought their cabins.
I turned abruptly as I felt the presence of some third person there.
Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd was now on her knees and elbows.
I was fucking her from her young glorious behind now.
“Tasbīħ Muħammad Åbbās?” I commented somewhat surprised, “Now alone? Where is Muħammad Ůsmān?”
“He is with my husband Muħammad Yūnus Saåīdī.” Tasbīħ Muħammad Åbbās said gravely, “I’ve deliberately come to you alone. I want to consult you.”
“Consult me? Professionally?”
Tasbīħ Muħammad Åbbās nodded.
I studied Tasbīħ Muħammad Åbbās with patient appraising eyes.
“What about?” I asked.
“About my daughter, Ħamd Yūnus Saåīdī.”
“Well,” I smiled, “I think you are misjudging my profession, Mrs. Yūnus Saåīdī. I’m not exactly a practicing barrister anymore. I don’t need to work for money now.”
“I know you are a multi zillionaire now. Yet you still work to protect the interest of us Musalmān Beauties. Don’t you?”
“Well,” I hesitated somewhat.
“Please, don’t refuse. My daughter Ħamd Yūnus Saåīdī and I both need you very much.”
“But your husband…”
“He isn’t my daughter’s father.”
“I see. You said your daughter’s name is Ħamd Yūnus Saåīdī.”
“Sure, sure, but it’s the name Ħamd Yūnus Saåīdī adopted deliberately. She hates her real father and me, both.”
“Because her real father is a Hindu.”
“Ħamd Yūnus Saåīdī hates me for it. She doesn’t understand Muħammad Yūnus Saåīdī is a corrupt politician.”
My recent encounter with Muħammad Yūnus Saåīdī flashed in front of my eyes.*
I tapped on the door of Tasbīħ Muħammad Åbbās’s apartment.
There wasn’t any response.
I tapped again.
“The door was flung open.
“Well, it’s about time you got here.” Tasbīħ Muħammad Åbbās said. “We…”
Her melodious voice trailed away into dismayed, yet still pleasant, welcoming silence, as she saw me.
“Well, well, well, the Mayor himself again?”
“I thought you must be given abundant material now to write your second bestseller, ‘Our Mayor with me: Again’, the sequel to your first bestseller, ‘Our Mayor with me’.”
She winked at me.
“My husband is present now.”
“That’s very good. I’d certainly enjoy once more you fucking in front of your corrupt politician Musalmān husband. I love to see his sheer helplessness on his corrupt bearded rugged face.”
Tasbīħ Muħammad Åbbās laughed.
“Come in. I’d love to watch you degrading my corrupt politician Musalmān husband once more.”
“You have really written a highly successful novel highlighting my sex life too much.”
“Not only yours, mine too with you.” Tasbīħ Muħammad Åbbās smiled cunningly.
“The critics are writing in their reviews now that you deliberately did it to humiliate your corrupt politician Musalmān husband and harm his political career in this way. What’s your response to the charges the critics have charged you with?”
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
The Cabinet Room
She felt that the meeting in the Cabinet Room should concentrate on Ved Nagar and my Svarūpé Avasthānam only.
On what Evelyn Carter should give to me and expect to receive in return.
Yes, she isn’t certain I’ve attained my Svarūpé Avasthānam.
Neither she is certain there is any stage in human evolution that’s called Svarūpé Avasthānam, Self Synchronization, at all.
There’s only one human society, Hinduism that claims, there exists such a stage in human evolution.
HVSI explains its every meteoric miraculous incredible rise using this extremely incredulous theory.
Evelyn Carter doesn’t believe it’s true.
Well, Lily Turner herself doesn’t believe it.
“You know I can’t.” Lily Turner said almost incensed due to her helplessness.
With this concentration on the immediate subject of concern, there was no need to be burdened by the secretary of agriculture, the secretary of commerce, the secretary of transportation, the attorney general, and other members of President’s staff.
Entering the Cabinet Room, Lily Turner could see at a glance that the necessary officers had been alerted.
They were already on hand.
Lily Turner greeted Dr. Åārifah Mustafā, Secretary to Secretary of State, Cyrus Vance, Dr. Shāhidah Ashraf, the recommended Chief of Staff of White House, the secretary of defense and the three officers of the National Security Council.
Then she took the leather chair next to Evelyn Carter’s vacant one.
Åāliyah Muħammad Åbbās watched me gravely.
“I asked was there any ice to break?” I repeated my question.
“It depends on how you look at it.”
“You went to the table to get acquainted with Nadīm Iqbāl Muħammad?”
“If the court please,” Waħīd Murād, the Public Prosecutor, said, “I must insist that the counsel is renowned, infamous rather I must say, to be biased in favor of Musalmān Beauties whosoever she may be. Yet he is surprisingly manifestly unfair to this witness. He is browbeating this witness constantly and trying to put her in a false light before the jury. I want to remind the court, as well as to the defense counsel this woman is a widow. She has been bereaved by the crime of murder committed by―”
“Just a minute, your honor,” I interrupted, smiling, “Mr. Public Prosecutor is arguing the case. There isn’t any question before the court for the Public Prosecutor to argue the case at this time.”
Waħīd Murād was quite angry.
“Nevertheless,” he shouted as if, “I object to having this woman held up in front of this jury as a strumpet, a harlot, a prostitute.”
I smiled patronizing, yet sophisticated.
“And I object, your honor, to having Mrs. Åāliyah Muħammad Åbbās held up as a mealymouthed, deceptive, persecuted, bereaved widow simply so the prosecutor can play on the sympathies of the jury. It isn’t a theater; neither are we staging a theatrical drama here. It’s a temple of justice and we are fighting here for the life of humankind. One person already has been murdered and we are fighting here to save the life of another.”
Judge Keyser frowned.
“At present there isn’t any question before the court. Therefore, there isn’t any reason whatsoever to make an objection. The jurors are called upon to see the witnesses, to watch their demeanor, their behavior, their conduct on the stand, to form their own opinions as to thefacts.
The prosecutor has one theory of the case and the defense has another. Please try to avoid personalities, gentlemen. You may proceed, Mr. Durgesh.”
By this time, all vestiges, all hints of the fragile, delicate, helpless, bereaved widow had left the witness Åāliyah Muħammad Åbbās.
However, her guts were appreciable.
Åāliyah Muħammad Åbbās was still sitting on the witness chair, slightly forward, still sad, and feigning a widow being intimidated unreasonably.
“Now then,” I attacked her once again, “you saw this letter in your husband’s pocket?”
“It wasn’t a letter, your honor,” she looked at Judge Keyser, “everyone can understand that it was a blackmail demand.”
“Blackmail demand on Nadīm Iqbāl Muħammad?” I asked.
“The letter was sent to him.”
“Isn’t it a fact that your third husband, Akram Sultan, had also received a blackmail demand?” I thundered at her.
“I can’t help it.”
“Isn’t it a fact that your second husband, Muħammad Qāsim Ayyūbī, had also received a blackmail demand?” I smiled at her meaningfully.
“I can’t help it.” Åāliyah Muħammad Åbbās repeated her answer.
“Isn’t it a fact that your first husband, Zāhid Rashīd, had also received a blackmail demand?” I smiled at her once again.
“I can’t help it.” She again repeated.
“All the four envelopes had the return address in the upper left hand corner and the name A. M. Åbbās?”
“How do you know it was blackmail?”
“There was a demand for money in the letter. What do you think; it was an invitation to dance?”
“I can’t answer that question. I’d rather leave it to the jury to draw their own conclusion.”
Åāliyah Muħammad Åbbās watched me gravely.
“That’s your privilege.”
“What’s your full name?”
“Will you please abbreviate it?”
“A. M. Åbbās.” She said curtly, “I understand your implication. But I never blackmailed anyone in my life. Neither have I sent any blackmail letter to anyone. Anyone can use my name as a return address to implicate me.”
“Is there a newsstand at the corner by your residence?”
“Yes, there is.”
“Are you familiar with the person who runs it?”*
Lily Turner repeated her question.
“I asked how did your pre-briefing go with Evelyn Carter?”
“It means lousy, useless, worthless, crummy, horrible. Our potential candidate for next President of USA, Ms. Evelyn Carter, didn’t give a damn about Ved Nagar, Svarūpé Avasthānam and Durgesh himself. She only wanted to speak of sex championship contest in Washington D.C. between
“Then our work’s cut out for us.”
“You are forgetting the resources CIA has. Fortunately or unfortunately, I’m somewhat in a position to use those entire resources for the benefits of USA. Even the President of USA himself has given us the permission, let alone the Director of CIA. I never believe anyone of my Musalmān women friends too, as the President of USA has instructed us, rather has imposed the condition on us, without investigating about them thoroughly.”
“I agree with Lily Turner.” Dr. Åārifah Mustafā, Secretary to Secretary of State, Cyrus Vance, said severely, “That’s why I cancelled everyone else. Ved Nagar is the dream city of Vedic Monotheist Hindus. Durgesh has succeeded in their dreams getting true. He is a Parahuman and Ved Nagar is full of Posthumans.”
“Nonsense.” Evelyn Carter said.
“You must be crazy, Lily.” Evelyn Carter said tersely, “I know Durgesh more than you. He and his adroit followers Vedic Monotheist Hindus are number one liars, number one rumor spreaders. They believe that spreading rumors is Dharm Yuddh, the holy war, a Crusade.”*
Lily Turner smiled.
“I wanted to concentrate on what’s waiting for you at lunch.”
Evelyn Carter controlled herself.
Now she appeared suddenly surprisingly to be in good humor.
She brushed back her hair, grinned at the assemblage, and watched all of them impishly deliberately.
Lily Turner realized her strategy.
She reminded Evelyn Carter gravely.
“We have been discussing your lunch with Durgesh.”
“Is it going to be a long lunch?” Evelyn Carter asked delinquently.
“It doesn’t have to be.” Dr. Åārifah Mustafā, Secretary to Secretary of State, Cyrus Vance, assured her, “After some filling gap talk with the ever richest person in the entire history of humankind, you can wind up lunch and we’ll move into the Yellow Oval Room. The President would be busy elsewhere with Valéry Giscard d’Estaing, the President of France. He has instructed us already to be there in Yellow Oval Room.”
“That can be strictly business?”
“That can be strictly business.” Dr. Åārifah Mustafā said.
“I just wanted to know because I didn’t want to miss the big contest.” Evelyn Carter explained.
“You’ll have plenty of time for that,” Lily Turner promised, “This lunch and meeting with the former head of Hindu Vishv Underground is scheduled to last one and a half hours. Then Miss USA, Margaret Kennedy, is scheduled to accompany Durgesh to the opening of the Ashvinatam Museum expecting Durgesh to say a few words, maybe five minutes’ worth, about an important fund raiser. That’ll give you plenty of time to get back for the contest.”
Evelyn Carter surveyed the Cabinet Room.
“I see a lot of our friends are missing. You’ve brought in only the big brass.”
“Deliberate,” said Lily Turner simply, “Since you are going to be bargaining with the ever sexiest Vedic Monotheist Hindu, we wanted our full concentration to be devoted to a treaty with Ved Nagar/Trantor.”*
“Fair enough.” She said.
“The fact you have to remember is not that Durgesh is the Mayor of Ved Nagar/Trantor now. He was the democratic head of Hindu Vishv Underground too. Hindu Vishv Underground was an underground organization of revolutionaries who were actually behind the independence of India.”
“That doesn’t exist now?” Evelyn Carter smiled sarcastically.
“CIA suspects that it does exist now as Ved Nagar/Trantor instead of its said dissolution into Vyom, interspace.” Lily Turner said curtly. “Our former station head at Ved Nagar/Trantor, Della Turner, and our present station head, Akhilésh M. Āgnéý there, both have reported the importance of Ved Nagar/Trantor. We suspect it isn’t only a city in India. It’s actually Hindu Vishv Underground in its new present supreme developed form.”
Evelyn Carter smiled.
“Any evidence that our suspicion may be true?”
“That’s what you have to find out.” Lily Turner said.
She was twenty-one.
“The fact,” Lily Turner said, “that your younger sister, Rukħsānah Carter, is also in the same university as Kħadījah Muħammad was in, will give you something in common to talk about before you settle down to the nitty-gritty. Durgesh loves Kħadījah Muħammad even more than his duly married wife, Saiyadah Fātimah PhD.”
Now, Evelyn Carter too nodded.
“Alright, what’s the nitty-gritty?”
She tore it loose and came around the table to Evelyn Carter.
“Nellie Adams, take my seat and give me yours. This will make it easier for me to explain a map of Indian sub continent and beyond that I’ve been drawing.”
The exchange was made.
“That’s the reason I called you in today. You are the one closest to Salīm Jalāluddīn Muħammad. I have naturally to discuss the problem with you.” Dr. Āsiyah Mustafā cleared her throat and looked into Nūrjahān Ghayās Beg’s beautiful Iranian Shiå Musalmān eys, “I saw Salīm Jalāluddīn Muħammad late yesterday. I outlined one final time what had to be done. He approved, approved of the surgery. This morning, first thing, he telephoned me. He has changed his mind. He is turning down the operation.”
“He is what? Salīm won’t go through it? I didn’t talk to him this morning. He was still asleep. I haven’t heard about it naturally. It makes no sense. Are you sure, Doctor? We had agreed surgery was his only chance.”
“Apparently, Salīm now doesn’t think so. He now thinks there’s a better course. Have you seen this morning’s paper?”
Nūrjahān surveyed the front page.
She was more bewildered than ever.
“There’s just some headline about Madīnah Munawwarah.”
Turn to page three. Read the full story.”
Nūrjahān Ghayās Beg opened the paper.
The headline hit her.
The story that followed was bylined by great Bābarah Åālamgīr.
It was datelined Paris.
Nūrjahān Ghayās Beg calmly, patiently, read the news story.
When she was through, she folded the paper patiently, neatly, and put it on the desk.
She met the beautiful eyes of Dr. Āsiyah Mustafā.
Nūrjahān Ghayās Beg was aghast, stunned, as the full import of what was happening struck her.
“Yes, that’s the news.” Dr. Āsiyah Mustafā said.
“News? Hell. The hallucination of some crazy uneducated/under educated Musalmīn. It might be some deliberate political strategy of Pseudo Musalmīn too to compensate the anti Musalmīn anti Islam trend, propelled by Dr. Ali Sina and his co authors. Are you telling me Salīm Jalāluddīn Muħammad has read it and believes in this nonsense?”
“Yes.” Dr. Āsiyah Mustafā admitted.
Evelyn Carter watched it.
“A crude drawing of the Indian Sub Continent. It highlights our major Eīshān Vaigyānic bases that help us contain any overenthusiasm that may occur in India, Pakistan, Shri Lanka, nd Afghanistan.” Using her pen as a pointer on the map, Dr. Åārifah Mustafā resumed, “As you can see, our potential Presidential candidate for the next term, this Eīshān Vaigyānic base of ours there in Pakistan has three major wings: Sunnī, Shiå and Aħmadī. Dr. Āsiyah Mustafā is the Commander of our Sunnī Eīshān Vaigyānic base. It is unfortunate that Dr. Āsiyah Mustafā doesn’t have even the citizenship of Pakistan. She is still a Turk Musalmān Beauty. Nūrjahān Ghayās Beg is the Commander of our Shiå Eīshān Vaigyānic base. What a tragedy it is that as Dr. Āsiyah Mustafā, Nūrjahān Ghayās Beg too isn’t a Pakistani citizen. Nūrjahān Ghayās Beg is still a proud Iranian. We have only an Aħmadī Musalmān Beauty as our Aħmadī Eīshān Vaigyānic base at Pakistan that’s a citizen of Pakistan.”
Evelyn Carter smiled.
“How the hell you think Durgesh can help us in improving it?”
“He can permit us to have similar three Eīshān Vaigyānic bases in Ved Nagar: Sunnī Eīshān Vaigyānic base, Shiå Eīshān Vaigyānic base and Aħmadī Eīshān Vaigyānic base. He is the Mayor of the dream city Ved Nagar.”
“Do you really believe in Eīshān Vigyān?”
“Allah,” Dr. Åārifah Mustafā looked at her entirely disgruntled. “Don’t tell us you don’t deserve the post we are preparing you for.”
“Shame on you, Evelyn Carter,” Lily Turner said curtly, “you are more interested in the sex championship contest between Musalmān Beauties and Christian Beauties, than you are interested in your preparation for what we want you to be.”
“Go to hell your Nafīsah Salmān and you both. I say Nafīsah Salmān has succeeded in getting Durgesh. Her ambition has been attained. She is living now in your so-called dream city, Ved Nagar/Trantor. If it’s really a dream city as you claim it to be, why the hell Nafīsah Salmān would risk her golden fortune by helping us, instead of working for HVSI? Durgesh is her Live in Relationship Partner now. Nafīsah Salmān isn’t a fool to risk the golden opportunity of her life. No one would. Even I wouldn’t if I were in her shoes.”
“So this is the reason you are not interested in the strategies we are suggesting?” Lily Turner was furious now.
“Well, why should I?”
Evelyn Carter stared at the map.
“An area, a large area you’ve colored in green and saffron, and two small ones.”
“And you want one there?”
“Don’t you?” now it was Nellie Adams, the secretary to the secretary of defense.
Moreover, Nellie Adams was furious.
“Nellie Adams, the secretary to the secretary of defense,” Evelyn Carter laughed sarcastically, “Don’t pretend to be righteous enough to be more interested in anything else instead in sex with Durgesh. Didn’t you yourself rape Durgesh because he wasn’t leaving Dr. Åārifah Mustafā?”
“I raped him because he was deliberately ignoring me.” Nellie Adams shouted, “It doesn’t mean I’m as disinterested in my country and in Christianity as the hell you are. I am ashamed of you, Evelyn Carter.”
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
“I’ll call Mrs. Nadīm Iqbāl Muħammad to the witness stand.” The Public Prosecutor, Waħīd Murād, announced gravely.
Åāliyah Muħammad Åbbās, attired in black, moved slowly forward.
She held up her right hand, was sworn and she took her place on the witness stand.
Waħīd Murād’s voice held that synthetic sympathy that was the stock in trade of some prosecutors examining bereaved widows, as he questioned her.
“Mrs. Nadīm, we have to perform the disagreeable duty of identifying the decedent. You are the widow of Nadīm Iqbāl Muħammad. I believe you were called upon to identify his body after it had been found in the place referred to generally as the Palmdale subdivision.”
“That’s right.” Åāliyah Muħammad Åbbās said.
“You saw the body?”
Åāliyah Muħammad Åbbās controlled her tears with obvious efforts.
“You loved your husband?”
“Yes, sir. But not any more if what the police claim about him is true.”
Waħīd Murād watched Åāliyah Muħammad Åbbās sympathetically.
“The police claim he was working against the interests of United States of America. If it’s true, I no more love the man.”
“It was your second marriage?”
“Fourth.” Åāliyah Muħammad Åbbās amended the Public Prosecutor gravely, “I’m the unfortunate enough that’s still virgin despite my four marriages in last three years.”
“Won’t you explain it to the court and to the jury, ma’am, if you don’t mind?”
“My first husband was my University mate. We loved each other very much. Zāhid Rashīd loved me very much but I never knew he was a criminal. The police shot him in an encounter before he could celebrate his first night with me. I thank my Creator, Allah tabāruk tålā Rabbul åālmīn.”
Judge Keyser, plainly interested, leaned forward to listen to every word Åāliyah Muħammad Åbbās was speaking.
“How many days after you married your second husband, Muħammad Qāsim Ayyūbī?” Waħīd Murād asked.
“I loved Zāhid Rashīd so much that it took me two years to forget him enough to marry Muħammad Qāsim Ayyūbī; however Muħammad Qāsim Ayyūbī wanted to marry me as soon as Zāhid Rashīd was shot in the police encounter.”
“How old were you when you married Muħammad Qāsim Ayyūbī?” Waħīd Murād asked sympathetically.
“Meaning you married Zāhid Rashīd at your nineteenth?”
“Yes, sir. That’s right.”
“What about Muħammad Qāsim Ayyūbī?”
“It turned out that the scoundrel was Zāhid Rashīd’s cousin and he actually married me to keep my mouth shut of Zāhid Rashīd’s criminal activities if I knew anything of them.”
“He was himself a criminal?”
“He was himself a criminal.” Åāliyah Muħammad Åbbās said, “I feel shame in admitting that, we Musalmīn are not as educated mostly as the non Musalmīn are. Consequently it’s easier for the criminals to use us Musalmīn for their criminal activities more than they can use the non Musalmīn.”
“I know.” Waħīd Murād said gravely, “I belong to the same community as you do. What happened to Muħammad Qāsim Ayyūbī, your second husband?”
“He and my third husband, Akram Sultan, both were hanged for murders. Nadīm Iqbāl Muħammad was my fourth husband.”
“Very very unfortunate.”
“Thank you. Perhaps I am foolish enough not to distinguish criminals from non-criminals.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled.
“Kambakħt! She deliberately married all of them one by one.” She commented.
“How do you know?” I looked at Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
“Hindu Piyā, all the four of them were multi-millionaires. The bitch is playing in billions now.”
“She seems innocent. But she isn’t. She is a great actress. Åāliyah Muħammad Åbbās deliberately married those criminals and helped the police in encountering and hanging them.”
I watched Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, incredulous.*
“Ma’am, you saw the body?”
“Yes,” Åāliyah Muħammad Åbbās once more tried to control herself, “Being his wife in his lifetime, I had to.”
“Can you identify it?”
“Yes, sir. It was the body of my fourth husband, Nadīm Iqbāl Muħammad.”
Public Prosecutor, Waħīd Murād, went on similarly compassionately.
“Now then, do you know any Imām Muħammad Ħasan, ma’am?”
“Sure, he was my fourth husband’s, Nadīm Iqbāl Muħammad’s, one of the very close friends.”
“Have you met Imām Muħammad Ħasan personally too?”
“Yes, sir. My fourth husband, Nadīm Iqbāl Muħammad, wanted me to meet him. I obeyed my husband.”
“Did Imām Muħammad Ħasan lend you a HVSI .22 revolver some time ago?”
“Noooooo?” Waħīd Murād was immensely surprised.
“I tried to. But Nadīm instructed me to keep it with me.”
“Where is it now?”
“I don’t know.”
“What did you do with it?”
“I kept it in my safe.”
“Yet you don’t have it?”
“I don’t have it.”
“Would you explain?”
“Sir, there was a theft. I found that someone had evidently been in very much of a hurry. A framed picture of my husband, Nadīm Iqbāl Muħammad, with his ex-wife, Saåīdah Åbbās Rashīd, had been ripped from a wall and torn out so that the picture of Saåīdah Åbbās Rashīd had gone to smithereens. A section of wallboard had been taken from the wall and hadn’t been replaced. Behind that section of wallboard, was an oblong recess. It was in that recess my very high grade, fireproof, burglarproof wall safe, unlocked. Its door was partly open. The safe was empty.”
“What did you keep there?”
“All my precious belongings that I needed every now and then, my revolver given to me by my husband, and hundreds of thousand dollars we kept there for any potential emergency.”
“Nothing was there?”
“Nothing was there including the said revolver too.”
“That’s all, ma’am. Thank you.”
He twisted to me.
“You may cross examine, Mr. Durgesh.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan squeezed my hand.
“Rip her wide open, Durgesh. Please. The bitch is too smart to be handled for that damn fool Public Prosecutor. I bet no theft was there. She has all the money herself.”
“It might have been taken away. But not the money. The bitch is too smart for the burglars.”
I assured Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and advanced to the witness stand.
Åāliyah Muħammad Åbbās was watching me austerely.
I stood facing the slender woman with the downcast eyes once again.
“Mrs. Nadīm,” I asked her equally compassionately, “Where did you meet your fourth husband, Nadīm Iqbāl Muħammad?”
“What were you doing at the time?”
Waħīd Murād was immediately on his feet.
“Objected to,” he smiled, “as incompetent, irrelevant and immaterial. It isn’t proper cross-examination too. It makes no difference what she was doing. It makes further no difference when the witness met the decedent or how she met him. She isn’t on trial. Zaynab Imrān Qurayshī is on trial.”
“Overruled.” Judge Keyser ruled.
Waħīd Murād requested patiently.
“May I be heard, your honor?”
“The court has already ruled on your objection, Mr. Public Prosecutor. In a case of this sort, I certainly intend to give the defendant every latitude in the field of cross-examination. Counsel undoubtedly has some point in mind or he wouldn’t have gone into this. Witness may answer the question.”*
Åāliyah Muħammad Åbbās looked at me,
“I was working in a rather varied capacity.” She said.
“Describe the varied capacities.” I said generously inviting her.
Her voice grew a little stronger.
Her eyes rose long enough to flash a glance of gathering seduction at me.
“I was a show girl, I think.”
“Ms. Åāliyah Muħammad Åbbās, you showed yourself in bathing suits, did you not?”
Åāliyah Muħammad Åbbās smiled placidly.
“Oh, come on, Mr. Durgesh. We aren’t living in seventh century any more. Let the Pseudo Musalmīn fight to keep us all in seventh century. You are a Hindu, utmost ultramodern, I think. You allow your own Live in Relationship Partner, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, to be a nudist feminist. I was only wearing bathing suits.”
“I’m sorry. I thought you were resorting to double standards. Your Live in Relationship Partner can even make love to you openly in public places. And I couldn’t show my beauty even in bathing suits. Tut tut, Mr. Durgesh. I never expected this from a man, as ultramodern as you are.”
“You were a hostess?”
“Yet you married Nadīm Iqbāl Muħammad subsequently. Didn’t you?”
“Sure, yet Nadīm Iqbāl Muħammad too was a criminal is yet to be proven, sir.”
The Sālī was really smart.
She was even smarter than I thought she might be.
“So, let me understand, Ms. Åāliyah Muħammad Åbbās, you were a shill?”
Åāliyah Muħammad Åbbās watched me gravely.
“What do you mean?”
“You put on daringly cut evening gowns that were tight and clinging. You circulated around the gambling tables.”
I raised my eyebrows.
“You know Lily Turner and me?”
“You both are not as unknown, sir, as you erroneously think you are.” Åāliyah Muħammad Åbbās smiled sadly, “Ms. Lily Turner is related to Stansfield Turner, the former Director of CIA. You are an utmost successful barrister, Sex Therapist, Writer and infamous as an ever unique Hindu lover of Musalmān Beauties from eighteen to sixty years old equally.”
“Thank you, sir, that you see it now. However, I don’t think it is worse to be even a shill than being a mole of a Pseudo Musalmān terrorist/ Criminal/Criminal minded Musalmān. I preferred to be a shill rather than being a mole of a Pseudo Musalmān terrorist/ Criminal/Criminal minded Musalmān. I don’t think you agree with me.”
“You are mistaken, ma’am.” I said gravely, “I too agree with you in the matter and appreciate the course you followed prudently.”
“Thank you.” She cooed seductively yet still not forgetting that she was a recent widow.
Åāliyah Muħammad Åbbās was very careful.
Even Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was chewing her lower lip in somewhat vulnerability.
She had never seen me so incapable to rip wide open any witness.
Åāliyah Muħammad Åbbās knew she had to face me.
She had come there very well prepared to meet my legal tactics.
Kambakħt never allows even Durgesh to put his hand on her anywhere.
She counter attacks Durgesh on his every legal attack.
She has studied Durgesh very well, very deeply, very adroitly.
Well, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan doesn’t know, at least till now.
“Being a hostess, you made yourself easy to pick up?” I asked Åāliyah Muħammad Åbbās.
“Well, I wasn’t picked up, Mr. Durgesh.”
“I see. Well, let me put it this way,” I smiled, “It was easy to get acquainted with you?”
“Sure, and as such, it was easy to get acquainted with you?” I asked patiently, smiling myself.
“I was simply doing my duty as a hostess.”
“That’s right. Therefore it was easy to get acquainted with you?”
“Not for everyone. Only for the person(s) I allowed to.”
“You made it that way?”
“Well, I love to make acquaintance with the persons I like. What’s wrong in it? We humans are social animals I think. Aren’t we?”
“Sure,” I smiled, “very well said. Yet, the fact was that you were particularly easy to get acquainted with as far as wealthy men were concerned who were in a position to spend money on the gambling tables. Isn’t that true?”
“Well, let me answer it somewhat in detail. May I?”
“Sure. Go ahead.”
“I am a woman. I had lost my husband. So it was quite natural I was in a hunt of a suitable husband for me. No woman wants a poor husband. Every woman seeks a wealthy and capable powerful husband. What was wrong there if I were doing the same as any other woman in the same position as I was in would have done? You imply I shouldn’t have done what any woman in my position would’ve done?”*
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan gritted her teeth.
Kambakħt, smarter than even she thinks every time.
“Certainly not, Ms. Åāliyah Muħammad Åbbās, certainly not.” I smiled sophisticatedly, politely and unwearyingly, “You too have every legal right that any other woman has. I agree with you hundred percent. However, nevertheless, having acquainted with the wealthy men, you didn’t cultivate them as a prospective husband for you. Instead, you made it a point to encourage them in their gambling.”
“How do you know what I actually did?”
“Well, well, come on, Ms. Åāliyah Muħammad Åbbās. I’m not on the witness stand. You are. You kept hanging around the gambling tables doing a little gambling of your own and chatting with these gambling men so that they would continue their gambling after they might otherwise have quit.”
“And if they have quit I wouldn’t have any prospective husband for me.” She smiled scathingly, “Mr. Durgesh, both as a hostess and as a woman seeking a prospective husband I had to be attractive. You aren’t a woman. You can’t understand it. But I’m sure any women in jury and in audiences as well, can very well understand what I was really after.”
“You were frequently at the gambling tables. Weren’t you?”
“Sure. Why not?”
“You used chips?”
“Always. The other gamblers too use chips.” Åāliyah Muħammad Åbbās smiled sadly yet confidently.
“Now then, when you first met Nadīm Iqbāl Muħammad, he was gambling at a table. Was he not?”
“I don’t gamble with money. I gamble with wits, my lady. Yet, I’m quite aware of these matters too and Las Vegas and Nevada also. My so many Live in Relationship Partners, as well as my so many women friends, haven’t quit yet their gambling habits.”
“Sorry.” Åāliyah Muħammad Åbbās smiled sadly.
“Never mind. You were gambling at the table Nadīm Iqbāl Muħammad was gambling at?”
“Sure. I’ve already told you. I always used chips.”
“Yet, they were not normal chips. They were special chips. Were they not?”
“What do you mean?”
“The chips you played with,” I pointed my forefinger at her, “were not redeemable. You had those chips given to you. You gambled with them, my lady, yet they couldn’t be redeemed for money. Your gambling was simply an act.”
“Sure. Every gambler there was aware of it. They were seasoned gamblers, Mr. Durgesh. They themselves were not born yesterday.”
“Not everyone. They know there are hostesses. But how did they know you were also one of them? So, you were a shill, a come-on?”
“Oh, your honor,” Waħīd Murād said, “this is attempting to browbeat the witness. The question is argumentative; it is not proper cross-examination, it―”
“Overruled.” Judge Keyser snapped.
“Answer the question.” I said.
“Well, you make it sound rather…rather…”
“Undignified?” I prompted.
“Something like that.”
“You considered yourself dignified?”*
Åāliyah Muħammad Åbbās watched me scrutinizing.
“Well, I considered myself at least more dignified than the moles of the gangsters, terrorists, criminal/criminal minded Musalmīn.” She said with immense pride. “I might haven’t been dignified with respect to the lucky women married with the sophisticated law abiding males, but I was certainly more dignified than the unlucky women who are married with the gangsters, criminal/criminal minded male e.g. a Musalmān.”
“You hate Musalmīn very much, Ms. Nadīm,” I smiled, “don’t you?”
“When you first met Nadīm Iqbāl Muħammad, you went to a table where he was already gambling, did you not?”
“Sure. I was a widow. I wanted a husband for me capable enough to give me what I needed. Nadīm Iqbāl Muħammad seemed to me quite capable in it.”
“Did someone direct you to go to that table, some person that represented your employer, the owner of that gambling house in Las Vegas, Nevada that pointed out Nadīm Iqbāl Muħammad to you? Didn’t this person tell you to go over there and get to work on him? Isn’t that right?”
“Yes, but I was already on my path to do the same anyway.”
“For your employer?”
“For myself. Mr. Durgesh, I was there hostess not to earn a living for myself. I was there hostess so that I may learn the inside gambling tactics to warn my potential husband and save his money.”
“Very noble of you, Mrs. Nadīm.” I smiled sarcastically.
“Thank you.” She cooed.
“What happened when you went to the table where Nadīm Iqbāl Muħammad was playing?”
“I went to the table, and when Mr. Nadīm Iqbāl Muħammad won, I smiled at him. That broke the ice.”
“What ice?” I asked curtly.
“I gave him a chance to be acquainted with me.”
“Did you think there was ice?”
She eyed me cynically.
“I used the expression as a figure of speech.”
“So did me.” I said authoritatively rather tersely somewhat, “I didn’t mean that there were icicles dripping all over this tight clinging gown that you were wearing. I realized that you referred to ice in a figurative manner of speaking. Naturally, I too used the term in the same sense. Now was there any ice to break?”
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
“Then you don’t know either Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm or Åāliyah Muħammad Åbbās. They are especially chosen by us to keep both of their eyes on Muħammad Ůsmān nonstop. There are some more arrangements in addition. But they are kept to be used in emergency only.”
Kħadījah Muħammad smiled.
She pulled a newspaper.
“Here it is.”
It was a classified ad.
‘Five thousand INR reward:
It is requested to the parties who were changing a tire on an automobile at the intersection of Bājīrāo Mastānī Avenue and Nargis Dutt Drive, at about five o’clock on the afternoon of the thirty first, to communicate with the Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad.
If they give a description optimum to identify the green Safari that was speeding east on Nargis Dutt Drive, and crashed into the Lincoln parked there facing east itself on Bājīrāo Mastānī Avenue, they will receive INR five thousand cash.
Bystanders think the young woman in this parked car jotted down the license number of the speeding green Safari but left the scene before the police arrived.
Any information from anyone leading to an identification of this hit and run driver will result in the prompt payment of INR five thousand cash.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah smiled.
“I’m sure Muħammad Ůsmān has managed to sabotage it somehow. Otherwise, it had certainly produced some result till now. Everyone hates a hit and run driver.”
“Maybe the people in that parked automobile haven’t seen anything.” Kħadījah Muħammad suggested.
Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm was already on her back now on the bed.
“There were a man and a woman in the car. It was a light colored Mercedes, fairly new.” I got between the magnificent nude legs of Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm, “They’d evidently just finished changing a tire.”*
I was already so excited that I couldn’t wait.
I pushed it and entered to the hilt.
Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm kissed me gratefully.
“The bystanders say the man was putting the flat tire back in the trunk when the accident happened. The woman wrote something down in a notebook. Apparently, it was the license number of the automobile that speeded away from the scene of the accident after slamming the Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah Lincoln.”
Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm was happy being fucked by me so wildly.
Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm smiled.
“Yes, Bājī. I have already told you so.”
“And you think there is money in it?”
I was still fucking her vigorously.
My Uncut Hindu Prick was vanishing into Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm’s Omani Årab Musalmān Cunt entirely to my Hindu balls, coming out anointed with her fragrant Omani Årab Musalmān vaginal juice till only its head remained inside, and then vanishing all over again to the hilt.
There was a superb lustful glint in Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm’s eyes.
To hell with Muħammad Ůsmān.
Why Åāliyah Muħammad Åbbās only isn’t enough to keep an eye on that bastard?
Why it was necessary that Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm should also join the bastard as his confidential secretary?
Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm debated whether, now that the chips were down, she wanted to go through with it or not.
Yes, Durgesh is her man now.
He is a brilliant barrister.
She is Muħammad Ůsmān’s confidential secretary for six years now.
To what extent Durgesh, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and Kħadījah Muħammad have faith in her, is evident from the fact that they have put another shadow on the bastard, Åāliyah Muħammad Åbbās, Muħammad Ůsmān’s second wife.
Is Muħammad Ůsmān really that dangerous?
And if so, should Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm interfere with his personal affairs?
Why the hell she didn’t do it?
How the hell she knows it’s really blackmail?
Suddenly she reached a decision.
“Yes, I think there is money in the suitcase.”
“I can’t explain the facts in another way.”
“What do you think the facts are?” I asked smiling.
“I’m Muħammad Ůsmān’s confidential secretary for the six years now. Naturally I know him somewhat more than the others.”
“Åāliyah Muħammad Åbbās isn’t his wife for six years.” Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm said curtly, “She is a new addition to confirm what I report to Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Durgesh and you, isn’t misjudged by me.”
“I see.” Kħadījah Muħammad smiled.
“I don’t think so.” Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm said patiently, “I open his mail, all of his mail. I separate it and arrange it in the order of its importance. I think he trusts me more than the rest of his employees even. We have been very close.”
“Not as close as his wife, yet.” Kħadījah Muħammad commented.
“Åāliyah Muħammad Åbbās? She is married to him for four years only.”
The brightness in her eyes, as well as the triumphant smile on her lips increased.
She knew Åāliyah Muħammad Åbbās also did the same for the same purpose.
The bloody bastard doesn’t deserve this great name.
His parents named him after Ħazrat Ůsmān bin Åffān razī Allāhu tålā ånahu.
He never tried to live his great name.
Being his secretary for six years now, Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm knows very well how many gambling joints Muħammad Ůsmān owns himself alone and how many with the other veteran Pseudo Musalmīn criminal/criminal minded persons.
She wouldn’t be surprised even if she would know some day, Muħammad Ůsmān is the Supremo of entire illegal gambling business on the globe.
Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm smiled adjusting her nude legs on my equally nude shoulders.
“Well, I open all of Muħammad Ůsmān’s mails. I informed you a few days ago, he instructed me that in case any envelope was received bearing the return address A. M. Åbbās, I wasn’t to open it. I was to pass it along to him unopened.”
Kħadījah Muħammad looked at me.
“That aroused your curiosity, you said.”
“That’s right.” Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm also looked at me bravely.
“Such a letter was received?”
“Such a letter was received.” Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm admitted.
“I instructed you not to open it.”
“I didn’t.” Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm said gravely, “Nevertheless I have the letter itself now. Here it is.”
She opened her purse and reached inside.
Kħadījah Muħammad and I exchanged swift glances.
Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm extracted a folded sheet of paper and unfolded it.
I pulled my Uncut Hindu Penis until only its head remained inside and thrust it back more forcefully.
It vanished again to my balls.
“How did you get this?” I asked her.
“I saw a torn piece of paper in the wastebasket.” Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm smiled cunningly and kissed me on my lips, “It had some words pasted on it.”
“It was unusual and I was put there by you folks to keep an eye especially on everything unusual.”
“I rummaged around in the wastebasket, found the other torn pieces of the letter and put them together.”
Taking the letter from her, I read it, holding it so Kħadījah Muħammad could also see the printed words.
‘GET MONEY. INSTRUCTIONS ON TELEPHONE. FAILURE WILL BE FATAL.’
“How about the envelope it came in?”
Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm again reached in her purse and took out an envelope.
In the upper left hand corner of the envelope, there was a return address of A. M. Åbbās, General Delivery.
The envelope had been addressed on a typewriter.
“You get it this morning?” I asked.
“That’s right. The letter was in the morning mail. I found it in the wastebasket about an hour ago.”
“Alright. Now, tell me about the suitcase.”
“Well, this morning after the letter I saw Muħammad Ůsmān was exceptionally nervous.”
Kħadījah Muħammad laughed incredulously.
“Bosh and nonsense. He was putting an act to deceive you.”
“That’s right.” Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm smiled, “I also suspected the same. Well, he told me to go down to a luggage store and get a suitcase. He said it was to be just a plain suitcase but it had to be strong and durable, nevertheless. He said the handle, particularly, had to be strong. Moreover, its sides must be so strong that the saleswoman could stand on it. He said he’d seen suitcases demonstrated in that way in some of the TV ads.”
“I went down and bought this suitcase. To check its strength I myself stood on it.”
“The suitcase has a lock.” Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm smiled too, “There were two keys to the lock when it was sold to me. I took one of them and took its impression on a soap to make its duplicate.”
“I delivered the suitcase to Muħammad Ůsmān with both the original keys. He took the suitcase and went into his office. The suitcase was empty. When he came back, it was locked and it was heavy.”
“Didn’t he give you some instructions?”
“Oh sure. Muħammad Ůsmān told me that I had to perform a very delicate mission. He wanted me to take this suitcase and be very, very careful not to let it out of my possession, not to let anything happen to it. I was to go to the Union Depot and go to the place where they have the lockers―you know, the baggage lockers where you pay ten INR, deposit baggage and get a key.”
I nodded gravely.
Muħammad Ůsmān was certainly after something mischievous.
The return address on the envelope ‘A. M. Åbbās’ could easily be interpreted ‘Åāliyah Muħammad Åbbās’, his second wife, and actually our agent.
Was he planning to implicate Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm too in the conspiracy?*
I made Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm to go on her knees and elbows.
Even while Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm was reporting to me daily, and I kept my promise of fucking her while she was reporting to me, Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm was still more ravenous to enjoy me inside her more and more.
My sex kicks into her ultimate vaginal depths were already wild.
Even then, her sexual motions to my Hindu crotch were still wilder than mine were.
But she had to.
Damn Muħammad Ůsmān.
If only he wasn’t so, criminal/criminal minded Musalmān.
There isn’t any future of Pseudo Islam now anywhere.
Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm went on to say,
“I was to go to locker F786 and put this suitcase in there. I was to take out the key; put the key in an envelope addressed to A. M. Åbbās, General Delivery, put stamps on the envelope and put it in the mail. Then I was to return to the office.”
I squeezed her boobs still fucking her wildly.
“How long ago did you receive these instructions, Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm darling?”
“Just about twenty minutes ago.”
“I see. Now, what was to happen if the locker F786 was already in use?”
Kħadījah Muħammad smiled.
“If, suppose, someone had already put his/her baggage in there and taken the key out.” She explained to Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm, “Then what?”*
Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm winked at us.
“Then I was to use anyone of the four adjacent lockers in the same row as F786 and to the left of that locker.”
Kħadījah Muħammad said,
“Aren’t you fighting against time, in that case, I mean?”
“Sure.” Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm said increasing the already wild movements of her glorious and gorgeous Omani Årab Musalmān female buttocks to my Hindu crotch, “I’ve got my office car waiting downstairs. I want to open the suitcase and see what’s in it. There maybe even a bomb in it. We suspect Muħammad Ůsmān a potential terrorist after all.”
“Even if, as I rather suspect, it’s full of money, I want to take the numbers on some of the bills―all of them if we have time.” Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm said.
“Why didn’t you just open it?” Kħadījah Muħammad asked.
Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm smiled.
“Do I look that foolish?”
Kħadījah Muħammad smiled too.
“Banno, you are extremely beautiful. But that attribute you have is expedient to Durgesh and yourself, not to mine.”
“Then?” Kħadījah Muħammad laughed cunningly.
“I’m not working with that bastard, Muħammad Ůsmān, a blot to the great name of Ħazrat Ůsmān bin Åffān razī Allāhu tålā ånahu, in my own individual capacity. I’m doing it for an international organization: ‘Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad’.”
Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm laughed too.
“You aren’t deceiving Durgesh even a bit.”
“What do you mean?”
“Durgesh isn’t imprudent enough not to understand who is masterminding it all actually.”
“Not I, Vallāh.”
“Wrong again. Idiot, try to concentrate on the cold and hard facts. Pitr’shrī knew Durgesh loved me more, not Saiyadah Fātimah PhD. I too loved Durgesh not any less than Saiyadah Fātimah PhD loved him. Yet, Pitr’shrī wanted Saiyadah Fātimah PhD must be Durgesh’s legal wife, not I. Why?”
“So what?” Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm asked belligerently, “Even if so, what’s wrong in it?”
“Musalmīn?” Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm, the Omani Årab Musalmān lioness, thundered, “You call them Musalmīn? Most of them aren’t Panjvaqtah Namāzī. Most of them haven’t studied Al Qur’an Al Karīm ever. Most of them haven’t gone through Aħādīs-e-muqaddasāt even. And you call them Musalmīn. Haha. They aren’t Musalmīn. They are Pseudo Musalmīn. I damn care what they bark about me. The hell with them.”
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
The gun imh 59786 was still in my hand.
The condition was now under control.
I pushed the catch of the .22 HVSI revolver.
It released the cylinder.
I swung out the cylinder and said,
“One empty cartridge case in the cylinder.”
I watched her cunningly.
“How can you say that? Neither you know her, nor I.”
“Isn’t it obvious? Damn it.” Dr. Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk said angrily, “Thanks Allah, ACP Suraiyā Jamāl is herself a Musalmān lady. My employer is being framed because she is against terrorists and Criminal/ Criminal Minded Pseudo Musalmīn. I demand protection for her.”
“We Musalmān Beauties call you ‘Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties!’ Don’t we?” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl said furiously, “You are already fucking her. Don’t you? Now go ahead and protect her from the Criminal/ Criminal Minded Pseudo Musalmīn. They are trying to frame her because she is promoting Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club being a major shareholder there.”
“How do you know I won’t?” I myself asked furiously.
Both of them looked at each other.
Then relaxed somewhat, they both tried to smile,
“Sorry.” They said simultaneously.
“Let’s assume someone planted this revolver here really to frame Nauhīd Niyāzī.”
“She isn’t Nauhīd Niyāzī.” Dr. Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk immediately said, “She is Shaguftah Rashīd. I don’t know why you are calling her suddenly now Nauhīd Niyāzī. What do you think; I don’t know my employer even?”
She extended her right hand to me once more.
I looked questioningly at her.
“These are two other passports I found here more.”
Dr. Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk smiled.
“One of them must be my passport.”
“What if even your doubt is right?” Dr. Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk smiled indifferently, “Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan isn’t any organization of us Musalmān Beauties that is terrorist, Criminal/ Criminal Minded. Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad is an organization of us Musalmān Beauties that is devoted to educate ourselves as high as we can. We hate crime unconditionally. It’s included in the constitution of Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad never to compromise with the terrorists, Criminal/ Criminal Minded Pseudo Musalmīn. Any soft corner for any of them, if proven, terminates the membership of Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad. What’s wrong in its membership?”*
“I’ve never hidden any fact about my present or past.” Dr. Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk said righteously, “Not from either government of India, government of Saůūdī Årab, nor even from my employer, Shaguftah Rashīd.”
“The name of your employer according to her passport is Nauhīd Niyāzī.”
“I doubt it can’t be her passport.” Dr. Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk denied it contemptuously, “Aren’t you jumping on conclusions, ACP Suraiyā Jamāl? Shouldn’t you be more patient and more investigating instead of jumping on baseless conclusions?”
“The charge was never proven against me.” Dr. Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk said bitterly, “You must know it as well, as you know that I was prosecuted on the charge.”
“Yes, why not? Certainly.” Dr. Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk said fearlessly, “Only I wasn’t expelled from Saůūdī Årab ever. I left Saůūdī Årab after my trial there, on my own accord. Being a Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān yourself, I don’t need to tell you that not only in Saůūdī Årab, in entire Pseudo Islamic Countries as well, once a suspect is always a suspect. Why should I risk my life in Saůūdī Årab if I could live freely in India as a citizen of Sultanate of Oman?”
“I see. How interesting it is however that you have the citizenship of the same country you were charged to be on payroll of.”
“You don’t know the present Sultan of Sultanate of Oman. Do you?”
“Certainly not, my dear, certainly not.” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl smiled tartly, “I’m only an ACP here, not even the Commissioner of Police. A friend and sālā of Durgesh, Muħammad Åbdullah has the honor. How can I know any Sultan of any Årab Sultanate, including the said Sultanate of Oman?”
“He is a very good man.”
Dr. Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk was smiling patronizingly now.
“Shouldn’t I have?”
“Sure. The point I’m making is different somewhat however.”
I looked at Dr. Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk.
She couldn’t provide me that information before.
But she is providing me the same now indirectly by cross-questioning Dr. Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk herself.
Should I be more attentive to Dr. Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk myself?
My basic policy was:
‘Be cautious, but never treat others as your enemy until their enmity to you isn’t proven beyond any doubt.
Never mistake making the others your enemy if they are not already, by doubting their honesty and sincerity to you.’
It was continuously being reported to me from various sources I had access to that, the present Sultan of Sultanate of Oman was a better human being than his contemporaries were.
He was reported to be even better than his own predecessors were.
At present, it had 167 members of the parliament.
Fifteen of them were women.
One hundred fifty two were males.
Not balanced very much.
Yes, but so were the other democratic parliaments even.
The old wood cabin was surrounded by darkness.
The shades were drawn.
A dog lay motionless on the front porch.
A thin stream of smoke flowed out of the chimney and headed north.
It was Makkah Mukarramah itself.
Dr. Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk was not a doctor then.
She was Just eighteen Just adult.
Sitting silently in front of the fireplace, Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk was shoving stacks of paper into the hot flames.
Damn Yazīd Malåūn.
He destroyed the great Islamic revolution only because his clan hated the clan of Ħuzūrs.
In his over enthusiasm to establish Islamic morals and discipline Saifullah Ħazrat Kħālid bin Walīd razī Allāhu tålā ånahu didn’t Ħazrat Ůmar Fārūq, Fārūq-e-Åāzamrzu, actually unknowingly encouraged Ħazrat Muåāwiyahrzu?
Durgesh says John Elray is wrong that Ħazrat Ůmar Fārūqrzu couldn’t forget the ancestral rivalry with the clan of Saifullah Ħazrat Kħālid bin Walīd razī Allāhu tålā ånahu.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan watched me scrutinizing.
“There are some persons who say even you don’t understand the Islamic movement of Ħuzūrs.”
“Well, they might be right.”
“What?” my duly married wife, Saiyadah Fātimah PhD, looked at me curtly.
I smiled teasing them.
“Once a humane always a humane.”
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan never cared to get your appreciation.” Saiyadah Fātimah PhD said, still curtly to me, “Kħadījah Muħammad and I always cared for childishly. The result is we failed and Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is succeeding.”*
I looked at Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah.
“We Hindus are not tired of you Musalmān Beauties. Neither we are ever afraid of terrorists and Criminal/ Criminal Minded Musalmīn. You know it very well. The conspiracies of Muħammad Ůsmān are not proven still now.”
I controlled myself.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah said again.
“We’ve tried to be civilized about the thing. I knew you think we Musalmān Beauties are unduly, unjustifiably, harsh on our Musalmān mankind. You think we enjoy them punishing unduly when we get support from you Hindus. Why don’t you understand they deserve it?”
“What do you want Durgesh?”
“Stop humiliating Musalmīn until they aren’t proven guilty.”
“Your sense of justice―”
“Unjustified? Impractical? Unreasonable?”
“You must peruse Dr. Ali Sina and his co-authors at faith freedom.org more attentively.”
“I’ve studied Al Qur’an Al Karīm and Aħādīs-e-muqaddasāt myself. I’ve studied Al Tārīkħ Al Islam too deeply. I’m sorry to say I don’t agree with Dr. Ali Sina and his co-authors at faith freedom.org absolutely.”
“We Musalmān Beauties ourselves don’t agree with Dr. Ali Sina and his co-authors at faith freedom.org absolutely.” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah said, “Yet he and his co-authors are not absolutely incorrect. Are they?”
“But the activities of the Musalmīn they discuss so fearlessly are entirely correct. Aren’t they?”
“I never said that.”
“Yet you never stopped favoring them.” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah charged me, “You think Muħammad Ůsmān maybe innocent. Well, if he is innocent why the hell he is maintaining so many households in different Pseudo Islamic Countries as well as in the other countries too?”
I looked at her gravely.
“You really don’t know?”
“What do you mean?”*
I looked at Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah gravely.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah said curtly,
“Yes. There are so many other Pseudo Musalmīn too. The bastards pretend they marry only four Musalmān wives. But they never tell anyone that they maintain so many households in different Pseudo Islamic Countries as well as in the other countries too. In every household they have their different set of four Musalmān wives.”
“What do you mean?”
“I think we Hindus and you Musalmān Beauties haven’t left another alternative for them except to resort to it. What the Pseudo Musalmīn can do? Their Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wives hate them because they aren’t ultra-modern, sophisticated and well educated. Sooner or later they join either my bed or the bed of other powerful and capable Hindus that can take care of them perfectly and protect them from their incompetent Pseudo Musalmīn husbands.”
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah looked at me patiently.
“Working for our Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad, we adopt various pretenses to reach the appropriate Jet Musalmān Beauty. We have an assigned territory. I too have. I pretended to have a series of books that are designed to give the newly wed, and still unwed, Musalmān Beauties how to deal with an orthodox Musalmān husband and ultramodern Hindu lover simultaneously.”
“The books are so cleverly arranged that there is really no age limit.”
“Not even just eighteen to thirty you call Jet?”
“Not even just eighteen to thirty we call Jet.”
“You aren’t taking optimum interest.”
“You are mistaken.”
“Nonsense. He is already cuckolded. He can’t even imagine taking any risk that his videos of cuckolded life style be released at the movie theaters and multiplexes of Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club, Ashvinātam Gangbang Club, Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad etcetera.”
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah looked at me harshly.
“Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan gives us members all sorts of sides helps, does advertising and secures lists of live prospects so that we don’t have to waste our time in fruitless door to door canvassing. These prospects are sent in at the rate of about ten a day. Sometimes they mail them in, sometimes they telephone them.”
“What is a live prospect?” I asked.
“Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah Bājī and Muħammad Ůsmān have a very nice house. They have some spare rooms as well as a guesthouse. Every spare room has its own washbowl and toilet. Yet, it also has a connection with the downstairs bath. Now, listen to me carefully, Durgesh, it’s very important.”
I nodded gravely.
“I’m listening to, don’t worry. Muħammad Ůsmān is not my responsibility. Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah and you are my responsibilities. If Muħammad Ůsmān is really planning some conspiracy against anyone of you both, it’s my responsibility to protect both of you.”
“Thank you.” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah sighed somewhat assured now, “Muħammad Ůsmān never liked me. Yet on the persistent insistence of Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah Bājī sometimes I have to stay with her even at night, you know.”
“Muħammad Ůsmān is away from home a lot.” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah went on, “He claims he is some kind of a business sharpshooter. Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah Bājī has always been rather indefinite about what he himself does. Despite Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah Bājī inquiring him so many times, Muħammad Ůsmān never told her his true whereabouts. Anyhow Muħammad Ůsmān travels a lot.”
“Muħammad Ůsmān travels a lot.” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah nodded, “and makes investments. He has misappropriated Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah Bājī’s money already to the extent that now he always seems to have plenty of money. Even then, I’ve never been able to find out exactly what my ever shrewd ever Criminal/ Criminal Minded brother in law does.”
I kissed Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah.
She was on her back now.
Her nude magnificent legs were on my shoulders.
“It was necessary.” I said gravely, “You both had cuckolded him despite my persistent objections. He is shrewd. I had to put some shadow on him to know of his whereabouts.”
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah smiled,
“His newly married fourth wife, Åāliyah Muħammad Åbbās?”
I smiled too.
“None whatsoever. Yet, you put one more shadow on him, his secretary Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm. Didn’t you?”
“He is too shrewd to be shadowed by only his new fourth wife.”*
Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm put a suitcase down, and then she rushed to me, put her arms around my neck and kissed me on my lips.
“This is the suitcase?” I asked.
“This is the suitcase.” Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm chuckled mischievously.
Kħadījah Muħammad laughed.
I laughed sarcastically.
“I don’t know. I haven’t studied about your Sāħir Ludhiyānvī ever so minutely.”
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam