GOTRBHID MAHĀ BHĀRAT: Shūdrasý tu Savarñaiv Nānyā Bhāryā vidhīyaté: 22

When Muħammad got engaged, it was a bit of a relief for me. Muħammad had been miserable for years after Muħammad’s wife had deserted him for me, three weeks before his Sixty Sixth birthday.

Now he seemed to be back to a vague semblance of his former self.

I was glad.

My friend, Al Muħammad Al Åbdullah, had been through a lot.

It was more troublesome for me, because his wife had deserted Al Muħammad Al Åbdullah for me.

“I’m very sorry, Muħammad,” I said sincerely, “I never thought she was interested in me sexually.”

Al Muħammad Al Åbdullah laughed.

“Infinite BrāhmKalp has come. Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan says there were only two couples in BrāhmKalp, Brāhmañ Muslimāt and Bachhalyā Brahmkanyās Bachhalyā Brahmāñīs. I think my wife was afraid of herself that Niranjan could not win her from me. She preferred you on Niranjan.”

“Niranjan Sharmā?”

“Niranjan Sharmā.” Al Muħammad Al Åbdullah said, “You know. He is Waħīdah’s Kħālāzād cousin.”

“Oh, yes. They loved each other perhaps since their childhood.” I remembered, “Waħīdah married you only because you were Musalmān and Niranjan Sharmā was a Brāhmañ.”

Al Muħammad Al Åbdullah sighed.

“Niranjan Sharmā is close enough to Bhārgav

Chakrvartī Dashānan Bhārgav now. I can’t compete even with Niranjan Sharmā.”

I had, of course, met Muħammad’s fiancée a few times when she’d stayed at our house, but after a while, Muħammad asked me if I’d be all right if Zakiyah moved in with us.

There was concern on Muħammad’s face, but it was unnecessary.

I was a quietly confident ever young man, who was simply happy for Muħammad to have found someone.

But when Muħammad came to pick him up from HVSI, I did not expect to find what I did.

When I climbed up into the back of the four-by-four, there was a dazzlingly attractive slim Musalmān redhead sitting inside, smiling at me. She was about twenty eight years old, dressed in a disturbingly low-cut turquoise top and green miniskirt.

Her legs were covered in nylons.

“Hi Durgesh,” said Muħammad.

“Durgesh,” Zakiyah smiled at me, “this is my daughter, Al Jalal Al Fātimah.”

“Hi,” Al Jalal Al Fātimah had an amazing smile.

She gently shook my hand and I couldn’t help but smile seductively.

I was completely amused to female company – especially such beautiful Musalmān female company.

Musalmān females were my specialty.

Even the BrāhmKalp could not take beautiful Musalmān houseladies away from me.

Brāhmañ Muslimāt couples were normal in BrāhmKalp.

Yet, I was an exception.

Waħīdah preferred me on Niranjan Sharmā.

Didn’t she?

Bhārgav Chakrvartī Dashānan Bhārgav advised Niranjan Sharmā to choose another Musalmān young lady.

Waħīdah loved Durgesh.

Niranjan Sharmā was surprised.

“Bhārgav Chakrvartī, she doesn’t love Durgesh. Waħīdah is opting for Durgesh either for his endless sex prowess or for his endless money.”

Dashānan Bhārgav smiled patronizingly.

“Learn a lesson from Muħammad, Niranjan Sharmā. Waħīdah deserted Muħammad for Durgesh. Yet Muħammad doesn’t have any complaint against Durgesh. Does he?”

“Pseudo Musalmīn lick the feet of their Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wives’ capable Hindu lover. The ever cuckold slaves of capable Hindus.”

Dashānan Bhārgav smiled.

“I don’t think so, Niranjan Sharmā.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your Sisters, Sujātā Sharmā, Sandhyā Sharmā, Namratā Sharmā, Kīrti Sharmā, Prabhutā Sharmā, Abhilāshā Sharmā, Nandinī Sharmā, everyone married Durgesh.”

“It’s normal.” Niranjan Sharmā interrupted Bhārgav Chakrvartī Dashānan Bhārgav, “In BrāhmKalp every Brāhmañ girl is a Brāhmañ’s sister according to Bhr’gu Āchār Samhitā. She is not marriageable with a Brāhmañ. The Brāhmañs are required to marry Muslimāt and Muslimāt only to devote themselves to religious severities for their entire life.”

Bhārgav Chakrvartī Dashānan Bhārgav smiled at Niranjan Sharmā.

“I wanted to remind you it.”

His tone was somewhat curt to Niranjan Sharmā.

Niranjan Sharmā looked at him helplessly.

“Durgesh still doesn’t approve of this ever unjustified Bhr’gu Āchār Samhitā. He says the Brahmkanyās must have their Swayamvar Adhikār completely.”

Bhārgav Chakrvartī Dashānan Bhārgav looked at him bitterly.

“Nevertheless, the Ārsh Sadan of HVSI is supporting Bhr’gu Āchār Samhitā, not Durgesh.”

The phone rang and she reached over to answer it.

“Hello?”

“Hey Sītā Bhārgav. It’s me.”

“Hi Durgesh, Anant Brahmkanyā Ramañ, Anant Brahmāñī Ramañ, Bachhalyā Piyā. How are you? Nothing wrong I hope?”

“No, no, Sītā darling. But I need you to do something for me. Are you busy, my Bhārgav Brāhmañ love?”

“I was just…” she paused and looked at the TV, “…working on something.”

“It’ll only take a few minutes, I forgot a file I kinda need for work. Can you go on my computer and email it to me. It’s -”

“Now, now, I’m not going to remember. Just gimmie a second and I’ll go to your room and pick up the phone there, ok?”

Sītā Bhārgav made her way to the second floor of the big house she shared with me and her father Bhārgav Chakrvartī Dashānan Bhārgav.
Sītā Bhārgav turned on my computer and picked up the phone in my room.

I was giving her instructions but we were having trouble communicating.

“I’ve told you,” Dr. Sītā Bhārgav said, a little exasperated, “I don’t see a folder called ‘Work Stuff’ anywhere.”

“And you searched for the filename? You’re sure you spelt it correctly…”

“Yes!”

“Hmmm…” I muttered. “I guess I don’t absolutely have to have it…um…oh, Damn it! Of course!”

“Hmmm?”

“Oh…oh geez, sorry Sītā dear.”

“Mmm?”

“Sorry about it. I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry.”

Dr. Sītā Bhārgav gave a little titter of a laugh into the phone.

“Well, alright, as long as you don’t do it again. After all you are Lord Bhagvān Rām of this Bhārgav Sītā PhD.”

“Yaar, Ramā Bhārgav, your younger sister, says I’m her Lord Bhagvān Vishñu.”

Sītā Bhārgav laughed.

“Doesn’t my elder sister, Dr. Pārvatī Bhārgav, call you her Lord Bhagvān Rudr?”

I laughed too.

“Three in one?”

“All in one, you Anant Brahmkanyā Ramañ, Anant Brahmāñī Ramañ.”
“Yeah, it’s just that I totally forgot something. Here’s what you need to do…” I explained to my Bhārgav Brāhmañ beloved of thirty years how to unlock the hidden and encrypted files on my computer using a password.

She sent off the email.

I confirmed I received it.

She hung up the phone and let me get back to work.

Dr. Sītā Bhārgav, the second eldest daughter of Bhārgav Chakrvartī Dashānan Bhārgav, was about to turn off the computer.

She hesitated for a moment.

What was there to go to except boring TV or a stack of books she didn’t really want to read, or a bed where sleep lately was elusive?

Didn’t she see something interesting a moment ago?

She opened up the list of files again.

Sure enough, there was the previously-hidden ‘Work Stuff’ folder they struggled so long to find.

And beside it some other uninteresting hidden folders were now revealed, like ‘HVSI Reports’ and ‘Bank Files’.

But Sītā Bhārgav‘s curiosity was stoked by some others:

‘Pr0n Flicks’ and ‘Pics of Slutz’ and ‘XXX Stories’.

‘No,’ she thought, ‘they can’t be. Well…well, maybe he’s just got one or two things on here…I’m sure there’s a lot of peer pressure to know a bit about that sort of thing…’

She opened up ‘Pr0n Flicks’.

The list of files was so long it scrolled down past the bottom of the screen; titles like ‘Anal Trainer’ and ‘Ass Worship’ and ‘Buttman’s Big Butt Backdoor Babes’.

She double-clicked on a file and the starting credits began to play, a rapid-fire sequence of tits and ass and cocksucking and fucking and pussy eating and assfucking and double-penetration and cum splashing everywhere and and and…

She clicked it closed.

“Oh my God,” Dr. Sītā Bhārgav muttered aloud when the image had disappeared from the screen.

She went to the ‘Pics of Slutz’ folder.

As with the other folder, along with the main list of files there were subdirectories.

The one right at the top was named ‘AAAAA HOT DAMN IT – THE BEST – WHACKOFF SLIDESHOW’.

Here she found explicit, hardcore digital images.

Dr. Sītā Bhārgav had last peeked at a Bachhalyā Playboy many years ago, but she could tell from what was on the screen now that what was available to men had changed.

Her Bachhalyā lover, Durgesh, had pictures of beautiful Musalmān houseladies, Christian houseladies, Jew houseladies and Brāhmañ houseladies even, in leather, in rubber, in lace, in chains, and of course in nothing at all.

Here were solo women, women with women, Durgesh with women, groups of women on Durgesh, and on and on and on, with every anal penetration or facial cumshot caught in explicit digital detail.

“I would have never of suspected,” she said to herself, “I would have never have known.” Then she gave a little smirk. “No wonder he likes computers so much.”

Dr. Sītā Bhārgav opened the ‘XXX Stories’ folder.

Among the folders I made were ‘Anal Fuckfests’, ‘Mind Control’ and ‘Ashvinātam is Best’.

Dr. Sītā Bhārgav took a look at the program I was using to protect these files.

She knew about computers herself.

Who doesn’t in this immensely advanced Infinite BrāhmKalp?

Dr. Sītā Bhārgav saw fairly quickly that it was a pretty simple program, and one where Durgesh seemed to have just enabled the basic features.

She guessed that I would change the password after tonight, so she created a login for herself, using the username ‘Bachhalyā Brahmkanyā Bachhalyā Brahmāñī System‘.

Of course it was a long username.

But Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was thinking that it would have a good chance of escaping scrutiny in me the unlikely event I took a second look.

Dr. Sītā Bhārgav wasn’t a communal Brāhmañ young lady at all.

Neither the Brāhmañ communalism ever even tolerated in entire Golden Bhārgav Creations.

It wasn’t possible even.

Bhr’gu Āchār Samhitā was the paramount constitution here.

No Brahmkanyā could be married with a Brāhmañ.

It was legally a tremendously punishable crime and morally an immensely despised great sin.

Most of the Bhārgavīs were married to Durgesh only.

“Param Brahmarshi Lord Bhagvān Bhr’gu didn’t go through immense religious severities to marry Bhārgavīs with Bachhalyās.” Bhārgav Chakrvartī Dashānan Bhārgav said furiously, “Bhārgavīs deserve Durgesh himself, no other Bachhalyā even.”

Dashānan Bhārgav was elected with even more than two third majority.

Vibhīshañ Bhārgav had argued,

“There were no Bachhalyās then anywhere when Param Brahmarshi Lord Bhagvān Bhr’gu had gone through immense religious severities to get infinite extremely beautiful daughters. Durgesh was the only husband available to them. Hence it’s a wrong argument that Param Brahmarshi Lord Bhagvān Bhr’gu didn’t go through immense religious severities to marry Bhārgavīs with Bachhalyās. He himself prepared Bhr’gu Āchār Samhitā, ‘Bhr’gu Shāstr Samvidhān’, constituting Brahmkanyās to marry with the Bachhalyās. There isn’t any exception for Bhārgavīs in Bhr’gu Āchār Samhitā, Bhr’gu Shāstr Samvidhān, that Bhārgavīs have exclusive rights on the rest of the Brahmkanyās to be Brahm Jagdambās everyone.”

Rudrāñī Bhārgav opposed Vibhīshañ Bhārgav.

She supported her utmost popular father, Bhārgav Chakrvartī Dashānan Bhārgav.

Vibhīshañ Bhārgav was defeated tremendously.

Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was never communal.

Nevertheless, she was jealous of beautiful Musalmān houseladies now immensely.

They enjoyed oral and anal sex with Durgesh more frequently and more proudly than the Brahmkanyās and Brahmāñīs.

Bhārgavīs were no exception.

That’s why Durgesh loved beautiful Musalmān houseladies more.

That’s why beautiful Musalmān houseladies outnumber infinite times more in Durgesh’s sex life than Brahmkanyās and Brahmāñīs.*

By the time I got home from work, Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was back in her bedroom.

She’d gone through much of the rest of my room, and found more things to pique her interest.

In the corners of my closet and in the backs of drawers she’d found recordable CD’s with suggestive labels, porn tapes and DVD’s, and stacks of magazines.

As she listened to me move around in another part of the house, Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was in her bedroom behind a closed door, kneeling over on her bed and flipping through a magazine, ‘Ass-Fuckers Vol.5 No.2’, which she was sure I wouldn’t miss from my large stack.

One of her hands was between her legs rubbing her pussy, and occasionally her fingers would reach farther, to rub the sensitive crinkle of her asshole, which would make her whole body shudder.

Dr. Sītā Bhārgav needed my services now tremendously.

I was sitting in the living room, reading, when Dr. Sītā Bhārgav came home from work the next day.

She was always very conservative, wearing perfect business attire; usually pantsuits that always left as little visible as possible of her neck, arms, and legs.

Her hair was always tied up in a bun or back in a tight ponytail, and her shoes were always sensible.

Not that this was foremost in my mind when I saw her, but it was the way she had always dressed since I had remembered, even back before her and her husband had split up.

Janārdan Upādhyāý married Dr. Sītā Bhārgav but never was alone with her even for a second.

Bhārgav Chakrvartī Dashānan Bhārgav never allowed him.

“I never approved of my daughter’s illegal and immoral Brāhmañ adventure. You stay away from Sītā Bhārgav, Janārdan Upādhyāý.” He had warned Janārdan Upādhyāý ruthlessly.

Dr. Sītā Bhārgav regretted her mistake of marrying a Brāhmañ.

“Your Lord Bhagvān Rām is Durgesh, Sītā Bhārgav.” Bhārgav Chakrvartī Dashānan Bhārgav said his daughter coldly.

When Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was around the house it would usually be thick baggy jogging suits, or large shapeless sweaters and straight-leg pants.

It was as though Dr. Sītā Bhārgav were another species from the females I saw at HVSI, on TV, or in the pornography I consumed, the ones so willing to flaunt themselves and their sexuality just to get attention.

“I’m just gonna take care of some things and then get dinner started, ok dear?” Dr. Sītā Bhārgav asked.

I grunted, and out of the corner of my eye saw her hauling some bags up to her room.

Sometime later, I heard Sītā Bhārgav shuffle about in her room.

I didn’t glance over for a while, but when I did I was shocked and couldn’t break my stare.

I always thought Sītā Bhārgav had a classical face; fine lines and delicate features, a little reminiscent of the Mona Lisa, or of Greek and Roman sculptures I’d seen. She’d always worn big, practical glasses, her new pairs just like her old ones, but now for the first time I saw her wearing a sleek pair with tortoise-shell rims, that reminded me of cat’s eyes.

Her hair was sandy-brown, and at the top of her head it fell straight, but then began to curl at the level of her eyes.

She wore it untied now, and it fell around her shoulders.

Her excellent exquisite thirty years old Bhārgav Brāhmañ body, with exceptions, was slim; especially her crane-like neck, her delicate wrists, and her ankles where the contours of bone showed clearly.

But nature had also designed her body so that her breasts were large and full, and were supported by strong shoulders, and her hips and ass were big and full as well, supported by thick muscular smooth bhbr thighs.

Every daughter of Bhārgav Chakrvartī Dashānan Bhārgav was a specimen of exquisite excellent Bhārgav Brāhmañ beauty.
Now, she wore a flimsy wool cardigan, rose pink, with a knit loose enough to clearly show the bra underneath, and a plunging open neck that showed off much of her shoulders and the cleavage of her upper chest.

A cream-colored skirt stopped just above her knees, but had a slit up the side where I could see the top of a smoky brown stocking.

Her feet rested in shoes with a medium heel.

“Wow,” I said as I walked into her room, and then paused, searching for any other words. “Um…are we having company over or something?”

“No Anant Brahmkanyā Ramañ, Anant Brahmāñī Ramañ,” Dr. Sītā Bhārgav said, and turned to look at me with wide eyes. “I just thought it would be fun to dress up a bit for dinner.”

“Oh geez, I feel kinda out of it then.” I looked down to my white socks, jeans, and rock-band T-shirt. “Do you want me to change?”

“No, you’re…niiicce,” Dr. Sītā Bhārgav quickly brushed her lip with the tip of her tongue, and a sparkle in her eyes made something inside me jump.

Dr. Sītā Bhārgav turned away to continue her work, and I felt my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund involuntarily pulse and twitch against the fly of my jeans.

Dinner proceeded somewhat normally, though my eyes would often wander to Dr. Sītā Bhārgav’s chest, trying to make out the details of her bra, and picture how her chest would look without the cardigan draped over it.

I’d snap my head away when I became conscious of my thoughts, but then my eyes would also sometimes drift to look down through the glass table in the kitchen, looking down at Dr. Sītā Bhārgav’s legs and the way she held one sleek leg against the other, and something inside of me flamed up when Dr. Sītā Bhārgav’s stockinged legs would rub together as she subtly shifted position.

Sītā Bhārgav didn’t give any sign of noticing, but I did notice she seemed much more chipper than usual, and always smiled when she looked at me.

I was looking out the window at the backyard when hands reached under my arms and wrapped themselves around my chest.

“Yow! Hey Sītā, you scared me!”

Sītā Bhārgav pressed her entire thirty years old, immensely beautiful, Bhārgav Brāhmañ body against me.

I felt Sītā Bhārgav’s Bhārgav Brāhmañ crotch against my hips, her big warm breasts pressed against my back. A rich, flowery scent reached, drifted my nose.

“I just wanted to say thanks for being kind to me.” She gave me a long hard squeeze. “I’m so lucky to have such a good husband.”

She placed a kiss on the back of my neck.

I froze.

We were both quiet.

A moment later Dr. Sītā Bhārgav kissed my neck again, a little off to the side of the first kiss.

Each one burned on my neck like a gunshot.

Palm flat on my chest, one of her hands began to work its way down over my stomach.

My heart hammered as I realized her hand, if it continued, would discover my pulsing ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund.

I slammed my hips against the counter, crouching down a little so the bulge of my crotch was hidden from view.

Dr. Sītā Bhārgav’s hand ran over my stomach, touched my waist, and then hit the counter.

She gave a disappointed sigh.

“So,” she said softly, into my ear, “what’re you doing afterwards?”

“Um…I gotta.. go to work, Sītā,” I smilrd, and glanced at the clock.

Sītā Bhārgav sighed and took her hands off my body. “Alright, I understand.” She placed a final, longer kiss on my neck, and I imagined I might have felt a little tongue.

Long after she had gone, my body missed her warmth pressing against my back.

When I got home late in the evening and turned on my computer monitor, there was a full-screen picture I was sure I had not left there.

A naked young woman, nasty lustful passion on her face, had my large ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund buried deep in her Bhārgav Brāhmañ ass.
The woman whose picture was there was Dr. Sītā Bhārgav’s younger, twenty eight years old sister, Ramā Bhārgav.

Chapter 23

—————————————————————————-

1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh

2.Durgesh in Hindi/Urdu

3. Science Fiction

4. On History

5. Commentary on Ved

6. On Hinduism

7. On Islam

VED NAGAR: 62

Posted: August 3, 2013 | Author: Durgesh | Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Bachhalyās, Brahmkanyās, Brahmāñīs., Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Al Lubnā Al Qāsim, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, Al Nadīm Al Quddūs, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim, Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd, Al Zakiyah Al Qāsim, Anjuman-e-Islamiyah Bank, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, Bachhalyā BrahmKanyā Bachhalyā Brahmāñī Social System, Behavioural Science, Brahm Chitrañī Brahm Jagdambā Movement, Brahm Hastinī Brahm Jagdambā movement, Brahm Padminī Bhārgav Brahm Jagdambās, Brahm Padminī Brahm Jagdambā Act, Brahm Padminī Brahm Jagdambā Movement, Brahm Shankhinī Brahm Jagdambā movement, Brāhmañ Muslimāt Durgesh Brahm Jagdambā Social System, Chief Justice of Multiversal Supreme Court, Chief Justice Pralayankar Bhaŧŧāchārý, Chief Justice United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations, Durgesh, ever persistent time slot of Brāhm Kalp, Feminism, House of Excellence, Imām Dr. Muħammad Åbdullah, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, Infinite BrāhmKalp Movement, Justice Padm Chitrā Mārkandéý, Justice Sunandā Bhaŧŧāchārý, Kħālid bin Walīd, life sciences, Multiversal Supreme Court, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Padminī Bhārgav, Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand, Pratāp Bachhalyā, Saiyadah Fātimah PhD, Seven Movements, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex, Umā Jagdambā Pārvatī Chakrvartī, United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations, Vikram Bachhalyā, Āpt Sadan, Ħazrat Kħālid bin Walīd, Ħazrat Kħālid bin Walīd Saifullah | Leave a comment

Midterm 2012

Kħātūn-e-Jannat

Volume 2

Ved Nagar

Durgesh

Previous Chapters

Chapter 62

Durgesh Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan
Imām Muħammad Ħasan
Durgesh Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd
Durgesh Al Safiyah Al Ghaus
The Seminar

Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā ascended the bench.
“This is the matter of the conservator for the estate of Al Muħammad Al Qāsim.” He said, “The Court stated at the time of making the order that the Court might require additional evidence from time to time and was keeping the matter open.
“The Court now wants to hear additional evidence. Mr. Durgesh, you are fucking both the parties now. You have claimed you have something to present?”
Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd smiled at Al Safiyah Al Ghaus.
I was fucking both of them.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was smiling cunningly.
Yet, Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd was too quite confident.
After all, I was fucking Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd too.
She knew very well until now, none could harm her in any way whatsoever when she is in my nude Hindu lap and I was fucking her.
She didn’t know if her Panjvaqtah Namāz really made her genital organ a rheostat or not.
She didn’t know either if my Stavans really made my Uncut Hindu Cock an electromagnetic bar magnet or not.
But she knew she was actually insurmountable when she had my Uncut Hindu Cock into her ardent Musalmān Cunt.
How?
Neither she could explain it beyond all reasonable doubt nor she damn cared.
Why the hell should she?
Let Durgesh explain.
Isn’t he practically her husband now?

I looked gravely at Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā,
“I do have to present something, your honor.”
“Witness or affidavits?”
“I have an affidavit from my Live in relationship partner, Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd, the niece of Al Muħammad Al Qāsim. It states that up to three months ago, when she was persuaded to take a long ocean voyage, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim was in good mental health and in possession of all of his faculties. Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd, my Live in relationship partner now, left Al Muħammad Al Qāsim in his house. Al Nadīm Al Quddūs, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim’s half/real brother was visiting Al Muħammad Al Qāsim then with his wife, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, now my another Live in relationship partner. Al Muħammad Al Qāsim’s two sisters, Al Zakiyah Al Qāsim with her husband Vikram Bachhalyā and Al Lubnā Al Qāsim with her husband Pratāp Bachhalyā were also visiting him at the same time. Al Muħammad Al Qāsim’s daughter, Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim was too there with her husband, Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand.”
I paused for a moment, looked at Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā, surveyed the audience, and went on,
“Your honor, I have another affidavit from Imām Dr. Muħammad Åbdullah, of the Anjuman-e-Islamiyah Bank. Al Muħammad Al Qāsim has kept his account there for many years. In his affidavit, Imām Dr. Muħammad Åbdullah has stated that in his opinion, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim is thoroughly competent; that he has always shown good business judgment in handling all of his affairs; that his properties have grown in value over the years; that he has made shrewd business investments; that my Live in relationship partner, Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd, has always had his best interests at heart and has made a very efficient manager.
“This affidavit of Imām Dr. Muħammad Åbdullah, further states that from the moment Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd was persuaded to take a trip, Al Nadīm Al Quddūs started nosing around, trying to get information about Al Muħammad Al Qāsim’s personal financial affairs, trying to wheedle information out of the bank on the pretext that Al Muħammad Al Qāsim was ill.
“The affidavit states that Imām Dr. Muħammad Åbdullah called Al Muħammad Al Qāsim on the phone and that Al Muħammad Al Qāsim’s manner was perfectly normal and his business judgment very sound.
“On the strength of the showing I am about to make, your honor, I suggest that the conservatorship be vacated; or, if there is any necessity for a conservator, that Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd, who has now returned from her trip, is much better qualified to act conservator than is Al Safiyah Al Ghaus.
“And as a part of my showing, I desire to call the present conservator, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, as a witness.”*

Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled in my lap.
Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā frowned down at Al Safiyah Al Ghaus.
He was especially requested by his government, United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations Government to deal with this legal problem.
“But, your Excellency,” Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā had protested to Padminī Bhārgav, “Ved Nagar is not our jurisdiction.”
“You are especially requested by Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan herself to deal with this case, Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā,” Padminī Bhārgav pushed her ever gorgeous ever attractive ever white ever pink Bhārgav Brāhmañ female buttocks into my nude Hindu male Bachhalyā lap and swallowed my entire Bachhalyā Lund into her Bhārgav Brāhmañ Cunt, “The firm legal attitude you have shown in the cases on Brahm Padminī Brahm Jagdambā Act have made you one of the most popular legal mind that put the constitutional supremacy paramount in his decisions.”
“I thank you, Bhārgav Brahm Jagdambā,” Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā controlled himself.
He always hated dirty politics and even dirtier politicians.
That was why he was still a judge, while even his wives and sisters were at least Justices in various high courts of United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations.
But his latest attitude towards his own Brahm Padminī wives on Brahm Padminī Brahm Jagdambā Act has made him so popular everywhere that almost every government now wanted his judicial services.
Padminī Bhārgav had herself honored him personally and promoted him directly to the Chief Justice of United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations.
He was also nominated for the Āpt Sadan, the House of Excellence of United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations.
He was suddenly declared the ever best legal mind United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations had.
“Congratulations,” Justice Sunandā Bhaŧŧāchārý put her nude Bhaŧŧāchārý Brāhmañ legs on my shoulders and congratulated him, “you are being reimbursed now for your Brahm Padminī wives you so righteously surrendered to Durgesh without even a single protest whatsoever.”
“It was my duty, Brahm Padminī Brahm Jagdambā,” Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā said cautiously, “thank you, however.”
“Her next movement will be Brahm Chitrañī Brahm Jagdambā Movement,” Justice Sunandā Bhaŧŧāchārý said, “prepare yourself to surrender your Brahm Chitrañī wives too, to Durgesh. You’ll get promoted to even the Chief Justice of Multiversal Supreme Court.”
“Then it would be Brahm Shankhinī Brahm Jagdambā movement, and ultimately it would be Brahm Hastinī Brahm Jagdambā movement too.” Justice Padm Chitrā Mārkandéý too laughed sarcastically, “Padminī Bhārgav wants every Brāhmañ Beauty to be a Brahm Jagdambā ultimately. She wants Brāhmañ Muslimāt Durgesh Brahm Jagdambā Social System here in United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations. She is against even Bachhalyā BrahmKanyā Bachhalyā Brahmāñī Social System as it exists today.”
“And even our ever humane husband Durgesh is supporting his ever faithful Bhārgav Brāhmañ wife, Padminī Bhārgav, in this matter. It would end the ever unconquerable political supremacy of the Bachhalyās and the Vedic Monotheist Hindus can easily replace the Bachhalyās in the Multiversal Politics.” Justice Sunandā Bhaŧŧāchārý said curtly, “Durgesh is dreaming of amending the ever persistent time slot of Brāhm Kalp.”
Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā smiled politely,
“And what about then, of Infinite BrāhmKalp Movement ?”*

Justice Sunandā Bhaŧŧāchārý squirmed in nude Bachhalyā male lap and squeezed her Bhaŧŧāchārý Brāhmañ vaginal muscles around my ever strong ever utmost powerful Bachhalyā Lund.
I hated to use Bachhalyā BrahmKanyā Bachhalyā Brahmāñī Bījāxars.
But couldn’t do anything about it.
The eternal Multiversal scientific system of time cycle had digested Bachhalyā BrahmKanyā Bachhalyā Brahmāñī Bījāxars in ever first Brāhm Kalp.
Almost infinite Brāhm Kalp had passed now with these Bachhalyā BrahmKanyā Bachhalyā Brahmāñī Bījāxars repeated endlessly.
Now, it was not easy to change these Bachhalyā BrahmKanyā Bachhalyā Brahmāñī Bījāxars without disturbing the entire time cycle of almost ever infinite Brāhm Kalp.
“Infinite BrāhmKalp Movement ?” Justice Sunandā Bhaŧŧāchārý smiled sarcastically, “That’s not Durgesh’s problem. Ask Padminī Bhārgav about it.”
I pushed my Bachhalyā Lund deepest into Justice Sunandā Bhaŧŧāchārý’s Bhaŧŧāchārý Brāhmañ Cunt.
“Sālī,” I said under my breath acidly, “you were against Padminī Bhārgav, you said.”
Justice Sunandā Bhaŧŧāchārý laughed cunningly.*

Imām Muħammad Ħasan watched every person present in the Seminar.
“I welcome every one of you here in the Seminar. I hope we have successfully deceived our opponents that we are here on the Yacht to discuss a disputed business matter of an island, not to attend this Seminar.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan raised her hand.
“Yes, you want to ask something?” Imām Muħammad Ħasan looked at her.
“Only one thing, Abbū. Why the hell we are so afraid of our opponents?”*

Imām Muħammad Ħasan patiently looked at his daughter.
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Al Sadar Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat, we are not afraid of anyone. We want not to urge the ever blood thirsty animals to massacre a large number of innocent persons once more.”
“We have already cuckolded them, Abbū.”
“Not every one of them, no.”
“Even then, most of them.”
“Because you want to establish your dream Ummat Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah.” Imām Muħammad Ħasan charged her.
“The reason is not important, Abbū, the result is important.”
“I don’t think so.” I said gravely, “I agree with Abbū, instead.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan looked at me angrily.
“That’s no news to me. You never agreed with me in any of my Seven Movements.”
“Because none of them is beneficial to humanity in the long run.”
“Long run?” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan laughed bitterly, “Long run? What about the present, my dear ever over humane Hindu husband?”*

I smiled cunningly.
“What’s there about present you want to discuss, in this seminar called by our lifetime president, Abbū, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, my ever over enthusiast young Musalmān wife of thirty four years only? Aren’t you already doing everything you can to establish your Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah?”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was furious.
“I have to discuss it that you should stop opposing my Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah. In fact you should stop opposing my entire Seven Movements. It’s against humanity.”
“I don’t think so.” I smiled gravely, “In Ved Nagar, we are establishing absolute Democracy. Why?”
“Why?” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled cunningly herself.
She was becoming more and more confident now.
Padminī Bhārgav was with her now.
Durgesh has only Umā Jagdambā Pārvatī Chakrvartī Dīdī with him now.
These ever Utopian Idealists!
They never try to understand the basic inherent human psychology.
They want to treat animals even on their over humane criteria.
Durgesh repeats so many times:

‘Vitishŧhantām māturasyā upasthānnānārūpā pashavo jāýmānāh.
Sumangalyup sīdémamagnim sampatnī pratibhūshéh dévān.’

‘Let there come forth from the genital organ of this mother, animals of various forms, being born.
Well doing woman, sit by the man leading to light. Proper wife, ornamentize here the divine ones.’
̶ Ved: Atharv Ved: 14|2|25

Yet, when the matter of practical behavior with these ‘pashavo jāýmānāh’ these animals of various forms’ comes, Durgesh almost invariably supports his ever faithful father in law, her Abbū, Imām Muħammad Ħasan.
Durgesh is blind whenever her Abbū, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, comes before him.
He says, ‘Never take any decision whatsoever emotionally’, but he himself, Durgesh the greatest, is never impassive about her Abbū, Imām Muħammad Ħasan.
Durgesh respects her Abbū, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, perhaps even more than himself.
He has blind faith in her Abbū, Imām Muħammad Ħasan.
Is it right?
Can it be right ever?
Nonsense.*

I replied her curtly.
“Because Democracy is the only intelligent way to live our life enjoying it optimum.”
“We humankind are not all knowing, Naåīmah ,” her father, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, smiled at his ever ambitious daughter explaining her what I did really mean, “neither anyone of us ever can be. That’s why Autocracy is never an intelligent form of governance for us ever something unknowing humankind, neither in our own family nor in any organization whatsoever whether political or else.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan laughed ironically.
“You are speaking my ever over humane Hindu husband, Durgesh’s, language now, Abbū, almost entirely. Aren’t you?”
“Naåīmah ,” Imām Muħammad Ħasan addressed her helplessly, “Try to understand, child,”
“I’m sorry, Abbū,” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan said gravely, “I agree with Durgesh, my ever over humane Hindu husband, in another matter, never in the matter we are discussing at present. I think Durgesh and you both are actually Utopian Idealists.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan raised her right hand,
“Just listen to me, please. You both have crossed the sixty years of your life already. The realities you both started to study when you both were Just Eighteen Just Adult have changed in these sixty plus years drastically.”
“And, we, even Durgesh, haven’t updating ourselves continuously, nonstop? Nonsense. For what another reason we had raised our organizations, ab initio? Nonsense.” Imām Muħammad Ħasan was furious.*

Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled patiently, respectfully.
“I respect you both, Abbū, very much. Durgesh never approached me sexually. It was I who seduced him myself constantly nonstop. Durgesh, as my husband, is my own choice. My parents have not chosen Durgesh as my life partner.”
Imām Muħammad Ħasan smiled patronizingly.
“I’m glad you still think so, my ever utmost successful diplomatic child,”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan looked at her father, suddenly all alert.
“What do you mean, Durgesh isn’t my own chosen husband?”
Imām Muħammad Ħasan smiled patiently.
“Of course, Durgesh is your own chosen husband. But it was not initially planned by you. Your Abbū planned it initially. It was my dream, my child, that you get Durgesh as your husband.”
“I…I can’t believe you, Abbū,” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan whispered incredulously.*

Imām Muħammad Ħasan smiled.
“Most of the children today, think they succeed due to their hard work, their extraordinary intelligence, prudence and attitude. Their parents don’t have anything to do with their meteoric success, if it is there.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan watched Imām Muħammad Ħasan carefully.
“And the children today are not right in thinking so?”
“There are some children of Durgesh who are, all of them, computer wizards today.”
“Oh,”
“They think it’s their hard, intelligent and brilliant work only that has made them so successful.” Imām Muħammad Ħasan said.
“And they are mistaken?”
“Not entirely.” Imām Muħammad Ħasan acknowledged patiently, sophisticated and with dignity, “Of course, they worked hard and their work was even intelligent and brilliant too, but it was not their own dream, Durgesh dreamed of it for them and provided the initial computers and computer books to them. There were no toys, no other play tools for them. They had only one thing to play with, their computers and the computer books to read.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan watched Imām Muħammad Ħasan gravely.
“What do you want to say?”
“Why don’t you draw your own conclusion, my child? You are perfectly intelligent to draw it, aren’t you?”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan didn’t say anything for some time.
She watched her father scrutinizing him patiently.
“Well?” Imām Muħammad Ħasan smiled at his ever ambitious, ever utmost successful daughter.
What a tragedy, she thought she did it alone.
There was nothing her parents had contributed in it.*

Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan controlled herself and smiled at Imām Muħammad Ħasan, gravely.
“Abbū, I don’t say that you haven’t done anything for me. I understand what you want to say about Durgesh’s those particular children. They are of almost the same age group, I belong to. I am somewhat their mother friend now. Saiyadah Fātimah PhD Bājī herself introduced me to them.”
“Oh,”
“They themselves never said that Durgesh has never done anything for them. It was their childish mistake first, they regret of now.”
“I see.”
“I never said, similarly, that you haven’t done anything for me.”
“I understand.”
“What I am telling to you, is that the realities are not now as they were when Durgesh and you both were young, Just Eighteen Just Adult. The realities have changed since, drastically, in every field.”
“I’m listening to.” Imām Muħammad Ħasan said gravely, “Moreover, we both have something more you don’t have. You can’t compete with any of us in that ever.”
“The experiences Durgesh and you have?”
“The experiences Durgesh and I have.”
“That’s why I said the realities have changed drastically since. Your experiences belong to the realities that don’t exist any more. In these new realities we need new young brain to cope with them.”
Imām Muħammad Ħasan laughed.
“You forget, my child, that however the realities are changed, human experiences are always applicable to them, because human psychology doesn’t change ever so drastically. If it were not so, the history of humankind were never treated so important by everyone, as important it’s being treated ever.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled curtly.
“You both, Durgesh and you, think even the terrorists, criminals and criminal minded Pseudo Musalmīn should never be cuckolded. You both are against cuckolding anyone. Why?”
“Because it’s against humanity.” Imām Muħammad Ħasan said curtly.
“Are they human?” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan laughed ironically.
“What do you mean?” Imām Muħammad Ħasan asked furiously, “they are not human beings even?”
“Do you think Yazīd Malåūn lånat ålayhi was a human being? The Pseudo Musalmīn that were supporting him were human beings? They certainly were NOT. They were under evolved animals who had only a human form, not a human brain. Even Ħazrat Muåāwiyah were an under evolved human being that hadn’t transformed from an animal to a human being to the extent that he could understand what Ħuzūr sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam had done for Årabs and entire humankind.”
Imām Muħammad Ħasan looked at her tartly.
“Naåīmah, it’s blasphemy.”
“No, it’s not. I’m not criticizing either Allah Rabbil Åālmīn, or Ħuzūr sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam. Ħazrat Muåāwiyah deliberately reported against Ħazrat Kħālid bin Walīd, Saifullah,razī Allahu tålā ånahu to replace him under a vile conspiracy to establish his own kingdom replacing the Democracy of Islam.”

Imām Muħammad Ħasan tried to say something.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was too impatient to let him.
“In the incidence you referred to, Durgesh, my ever over humane Hindu husband, of course, dreamed of for his children to be computer wizards. He, of course, conceived and planned their future for them. He of course managed to provide them the necessary primary tools too. But, they were Durgesh’s own children themselves who worked hard, who faced every thick and thin and succeeded ultimately despite all the antitheses. Their own struggle isn’t as insignificant as you are trying to imply, Abbū.”
Imām Muħammad Ħasan smiled triumphantly.
“I am neither doing any such thing, nor even can imagine to. I am trying to make you realize that it wasn’t any unitary success of Durgesh’s children. It was a joint effort of them with Durgesh too, monitoring them constantly.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan looked at him, acidly.
“Okay, I understand now perfectly what you want to imply to me. Ved Nagar was initially Durgesh’s dream. You found it useful for your dream of being Mustafa Kemal Atatürk of entire Muslim Countries. You wanted Democracy there too, while Durgesh was dreaming of a City State, entirely devoted to Democracy Humanity and Justice. You joined Durgesh. You conceived the rough sketch of Ved Nagar with Durgesh, portrayed in details with him, and even put the appropriate colors in it. But never forget, it was I with my countless supporters, followers and friends, with my entire Seven Movements, that brought your dreams true.”
Imām Muħammad Ħasan looked at me smiling.
“Durgesh, my son, tell your Practical Chief Wife, we had ample role for her ever craziest obsession of Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah. We knew very well she would never compromise below her ever craziest obsession. We made room for it in our original planning and used everything your Practical Chief Wife could provide to bring our ever ambitious dream project of Ved Nagar true. Her Abbū, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, and her Hindu husband, Durgesh, were not born yesterday themselves.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was looking at her Abbū, startled.
Imām Muħammad Ħasan smiled cunningly.
“You believe in work, Durgesh and I believe in planning and vision. Durgesh said let’s each of us do whatsoever we are good at. We planned and developed the vision and let you work on it. Why the hell should we have worked when you were more anxious even than us, to work on our vision, on our behalf? Durgesh suggested me to let you work and I should only keep watch on you. Wasn’t it more brilliant and intelligent?”