Dr. Al Raħīmah Al Raħmān waited impatiently for the reply.
It never came.
Perhaps the person, who was playing the game, was afraid of her that she was after him/her to know his/her identity.
It was natural there couldn’t be any reply whatsoever.
Dr. Al Raħīmah Al Raħmān went to Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī, the lawyer, instead of directly approaching me.
However, she knew very well, Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī was an integral part of HVSI Law Internationals now.
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī called in the postal authorities.
The postal authorities went to work.
The letters continued to come, as if the sender took her action as a challenge and accepted it, instead of being afraid of.
It was impossible for the postal authorities, however, to get any proof.
The person mailing the letters evidently wore gloves.
There was never as much as the smudge of a fingerprint that could be developed in iodine vapor.
The envelopes were mailed in drop boxes in various parts of Ved Nagar.
Dr. Al Raħīmah Al Raħmān’s name and address had been set in type on a small but efficient printing machine, such as those frequently given children for Eīdul Fitr.
At the suggestion of Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī, Dr. Al Kausar Al Firdaus, Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān’s divorced wife, was consulted.
She was living with me in Ved Nagar.
Dr. Al Kausar Al Firdaus remembered having given Muħammad Jamīl, the child, a very expensive computerized mini printing press for Eīdul Fitr for the year before.
Muħammad Jamīl had taken it with him when he went to visit his Abbū, Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān.
It was still there.
Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān had, it seemed, enjoyed the press even more than his son had.
This information gave Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī ground for jubilation, triumph.
“Now we’ll get the bastard,” she gloated.
Dr. Al Raħīmah Al Raħmān made an affidavit against her elder brother that he was torturing her mentally only because Dr. Al Raħīmah Al Raħmān loved me, a Hindu, her brother despised very much communally.
He used to call me Anant Muslimātchod Hindu scornfully.
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī handled it from there.
The police served a search warrant on Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān.
The said printing press was located without difficulty.
From its condition, however, it was evident it hadn’t been used in some time.
Moreover, the experts gave it as their opinion that the envelopes had most certainly not been addressed on that press.
It didn’t have the font used in printing those letters and envelopes.
Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān was on bail.
He was excessively polite to the police officers.
“I am not crazy enough to defame my own younger sister and thus consequently myself too. Can’t everyone see it’s a work of someone, who wants to defame and disgrace my Musalmān houseladies and me?”
His ex-wife, Dr. Al Kausar Al Firdaus, smiled cunningly.
“He is a pervert, as the so many Pseudo Musalmīn are ever. Allah never forgives the Pseudo Musalmīn for their ever disguised blasphemy. The bastards ever misuse the immensely sacred name of Islam for their ever perverted Pseudo Isālm. Allah punishes them by making them bisexual, gay and cuckold.”
Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān commented ironically.
“Dr. Al Kausar Al Firdaus’s Allah is perhaps Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan. It’s her theory that any Musalmān that’s not true in his conviction to Islam is Pseudo Musalmān and Allah punishes such Pseudo Musalmīn by making them bisexual, transgender, gay and cuckold.”
“You don’t think it’s true?” Dr. Al Kausar Al Firdaus smiled sympathetically.
“Most of the Musalmīn don’t think it’s true.” Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān said gravely.
“You mean most of the Pseudo Musalmīn don’t think it’s true?” Dr. Al Kausar Al Firdaus laughed patronizingly.
“I don’t think they are Pseudo Musalmīn.” Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān said curtly, “It’s what Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her lady bandits say.”
“I sympathize with you Pseudo Musalmīn, because they are you that are being punished by Allah in this way, by making them bisexual, gay and cuckold, I mean. Allah Ħāfiz, anyway.” Dr. Al Kausar Al Firdaus said sweetly.
“Allah Ħāfiz,” Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān said curtly and slammed the receiver.*
No one knew how the name of Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ was mentioned in connection with it.
Neither any one knew who mentioned it.
However, when the police asked,
“Do you suspect your psychiatrist ex-fiancee, Dr. Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ might be behind it to defame and disgrace your Musalmān houseladies and you?”
Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān said sophisticatedly,
“I don’t think so. The women are softies. Except Musalmīn alone most of the mankind even is softie, or it wants to display itself to be so ostensibly. She could not understand why it’s necessary for me to discipline my son, Muħammad Jamīl, the seven years old child. I’m surprised to the question. I don’t think Dr. Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ could fall to such an indignity. We had been engaged. I was quite fond of her.”
“Why the engagement had broken?” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl asked gravely, sympathetically, ostensibly at least.
Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān wasn’t a damn fool enough to think ACP Suraiyā Jamāl was really sympathetic to him.
He knew she was one of the greatest fans of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, her lady bandits and Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah.
Yet, she never approved of Triple Society.
Her concept of Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah wasn’t as violent as that of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her lady bandits, after all.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her lady bandits scorned Pseudo Musalmān actually, while ACP Suraiyā Jamāl was sophisticated somewhat, ostensibly at least, even if not actually.
“The engagement had been broken over a rather minor matter.” Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān smiled as if he was the victim of her injustice. However, he didn’t want to talk of it, “Dr. Ms. Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ was working altogether too hard. Naturally, she had been under great nervous tension. She had not been like herself for some weeks before the engagement was broken. If there is still anything I can do, ma’am ACP, I want it understood definitely that I’m willing to help at any time whatsoever.”
“I see,” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl could not help herself from being sarcastic, “How nice of you.”
“Nothing at all, ma’am. I would be only too glad to render any assistance whatsoever in tracking down the scoundrel(s) who are annoying my younger sister, psychiatrist Dr. Al Raħīmah Al Raħmān. The police are welcome to drop in at any time. As far as I’m concerned, the police never need any search warrant even. Despite all the adverse deliberate publicity against us so called Pseudo Musalmīn, by Her Excellency Kħātūn-e-Jannat Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan razī Allāhu tålā ånahā and her lady bandits, we Musalmīn are too law abiding citizens. My door would always be open to the authorities. Would you please convey my sincere sympathy to my younger psychiatrist sister, Dr. Al Raħīmah Al Raħmān? I have tried to call her myself a dozen times, but she had hung up as soon as she recognized my voice.”
It wasn’t until Dr. Al Kausar Al Firdaus called her that Dr. Al Raħīmah Al Raħmān smiled cunningly.
“Was it the printing press?” Dr. Al Kausar Al Firdaus asked Dr. Al Raħīmah Al Raħmān.
“No,” Dr. Al Raħīmah Al Raħmān said, “The press was there all right but it hadn’t been used for some time.”
“That’s just like the bastard,” Dr. Al Kausar Al Firdaus said, “I know exactly how his ever communal dirty shrewd Pseudo Musalmān mind works. He saw Muħammad Jamīl’s press. He then went out and got one similar to it, but with different fonts. Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān probably printed about two hundred envelopes in advance, then he took the press out on his yacht and dropped it overboard. He knew you’d suspect him; that you’d find out about Muħammad Jamīl’s press and get a search warrant―that’s his way of showing you how diabolically clever he is despite the adverse reputation of general Pseudo Musalmīn.”
She looked at Dr. Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ,
“I’m surprised you went with him as long as you did without recognizing the sort of man he is beneath his mask.”
Dr. Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ resented Dr. Al Kausar Al Firdaus’s tone,
“At least I found out in time to avoid marrying him.
Dr. Al Kausar Al Firdaus laughed.
“You were smarter than I was.” She admitted, “I was communal somewhat perhaps. I deliberately scorned marrying any non-Muslim those days. Allah punished me for it. Now, I believe Dr. Ali Sina and his co-authors are correct. Never marry any Muslim bastard. So many other Hindus are there, even if particularly Durgesh is not available to some unlucky Muslimah.”
Dr. Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ too laughed bitterly.
“Nevertheless, you’ll remember I dropped you a note telling you not to be fooled.”
Dr. Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ said somewhat ruefully, repentantly.
“I thought it was the result of your jealousy that I succeeded where you failed. Sorry.”
“Allah, Heavens, I’m happily in Live In Relationship with Durgesh now. I was trying to save you from what I’d gone through with him. If I could only get the sole custody of Muħammad Jamīl, my son, I wouldn’t want anything more.”*
Åāliyah Fārūq had disabused me of that notion.
“You wouldn’t be causing a problem,” she’d said, “you’d be solving one. I love Åbdul Waħīd to pieces, but he’s just not getting it done in the bedroom. We need someone to help out. Besides, I’ve always been curious about Hindu men.”
“I’m not about to start messing with cheating Musalmān wives, Åāliyah Fārūq,” I had explained.
Åāliyah Fārūq had laughed.
“Cheating? Who said anything about cheating? Åbdul Waħīd brought it up in the first place, and he sure as hell plans on watching you fuck me.”
“I see. So you’re swingers?” I asked.
“No, honey, we’re not swingers. We want to try out cuckolding,” Åāliyah Fārūq replied.
She’d gone on to explain that Åbdul Waħīd didn’t want to fuck someone else’s wife, he wanted a guy to fuck Åāliyah Fārūq while he watched.
So later than night, I had fucked the lovely young Musalmān blonde to the point of exhaustion while Åbdul Waħīd had watched and jerked off.
When I left, Åbdul Waħīd had thanked me profusely and made arrangements for another encounter over the next weekend.
I had quickly found that the notion of fucking an attractive, young, married Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān woman appealed to his libido.
It wasn’t just fucking hot Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Choot I liked, it was fucking hot white married Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Choot.
In front of the perverted/cuckold Musalmān husband.
It was like Viagra.
The role of handsome hung Hindu bull fit me like a glove, and I soon discovered that fulfilling Åāliyah Fārūq and Åbdul Waħīd’s expectations of deep, dark taboo jungle love was as entertaining to me as it was arousing to Åbdul Waħīd.
The actual problem was that the Pseudo Musalmīn themselves loved to be cuckolded to their ever dominating Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wives and me/their Hindu lover/Live In Relationship partner.
They needed Stavans/Meditation with Constant Positive Thinking actually to get their confidence and manhood back.
It wasn’t possible due to several communal/religious/social reasons.
The main reason, none wanted to be true to accept, was Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
She wanted them Cuckold to compel them to establish Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s dream Ummat, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah.
“She hates Pseudo Musalmīn even more than even Mughal-e-Åāzam, Shahanshah Jalāluddīn Muħammad Akbar did. He forced Pseudo Musalmīn to marry their Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān daughters/sisters to marry Hindus. Yet, even he didn’t cuckold them. Whereas Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is running Seven Movements including Cuckold Your Musalmān husband Movement.” I said curtly.
“Well,” Åbdul Waħīd smiled feigning gravity, “we don’t think there’s anything wrong in it.”
I gazed at him contemptuously.
There wasn’t any use of arguing with Åbdul Waħīd.
He had already fallen beneath it.
Åāliyah Fārūq was lying on her back with her legs spread and My Hindu cum load was leaking from her gaping Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Choot when Åbdul Waħīd had first asked me if I thought I could handle another white Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wife.
“We have some close friends, Lubnā Salīm and Muħammad Ashfāq, who live in the building,” Åbdul Waħīd said. “Åāliyah Fārūq’s been telling Lubnā Salīm about what an amazing Hindu lover you are, and Lubnā Salīm told Åāliyah Fārūq she was interested.”
“I see,” I smiled meaningfully.
“Lubnā Salīm’s really cute. She’s a tiny little redhead. You’d love fucking her,” Åāliyah Fārūq chimed in, playing with my Uncut Hindu Lund, entirely unashamed of herself. “Why don’t we all have a dinner and we can explain how things work. I love being your hot white Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wife, but I’m feeling guilty keeping that magnificent Uncut Hindu Lund all to myself.”
“Besides,” Åbdul Waħīd joined in, “Åāliyah Fārūq and I really get turned on by the idea of turning Lubnā Salīm and Muħammad Ashfāq out as an Uncut Hindu Lund cuckold couple. It feels like we’re corrupting them.”
I laughed and agreed to the meeting.
However, I suspected Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was behind it somewhere, somehow.
Åāliyah Fārūq and Åbdul Waħīd were actually members of her Cuckold Your Musalmān husband Movement.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was really establishing seriously her Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah.
She wasn’t kidding anyone in the matter at all.
Åāliyah Fārūq too hadn’t been kidding when she had described Lubnā Salīm as “tiny.”
I towered over the 4 foot 11 inch Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān redhead, who giggled when I took her small hand in my hand to shake it.
“If everything else about you is this big, I’m in trouble,” the Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān redhead chirped.
I liked her immediately.
She’d worn her red hair in a pixy cut.
Coupled with her pouty red lips, alabaster skin and slightly upturned nose, the overall effect made her look like a woodland sprite.
Her easy laughter and constant smile did nothing to dispel the image.
Over drinks, I learned that Lubnā Salīm had been a gymnast and ballet dancer but had switched to elementary education when she’d torn her ACL as a college freshman.
“Besides,” she said with a laugh, “there isn’t a ballet company in the country that wants a sub-five feet redhead in the corps de ballet. All for the best anyway. I love teaching kids.”
Her husband Muħammad Ashfāq was a graphics designer and artist, who’d converted one of the bedrooms in their unit into a painting studio.
He was slender and dark haired, which curled over his collar, looking every bit the moody, struggling artist.
When I had suggested that it must be difficult to make a living as a painter, Lubnā Salīm had laughed.
“Don’t let the ‘suffering artist’ look fool you. Muħammad Ashfāq does quite nicely with graphics design and his parents left him very well off,” she said. “We live comfortably on Muħammad Ashfāq’s graphics income and my salary as a teacher. The painting’s his avocation.”
The dinner went extremely well.
Åāliyah Fārūq had seated Lubnā Salīm and me next to each other, with Muħammad Ashfāq across the table.
Wine flowed freely and Muħammad Ashfāq and I spent most of the dinner in an intense discussion about stock market forecasting, investment strategies, hedge funds, and metals futures.
Lubnā Salīm spent most of the dinner running her left hand first up and down my right thigh and then up and down my Hindu crotch.
At the end of the evening, I stood.
“Thanks for a wonderful dinner, Åāliyah Fārūq,” I said, kissing her lightly on the cheek.
I shook Åbdul Waħīd’s hand and nodded to Lubnā Salīm and Muħammad Ashfāq. “Nice to meet you both.”
As soon as I was out the door, Lubnā Salīm hurried to join me, slipping her arm through mine.
“Why don’t you walk me home,” she suggested, seductively, meaningfully.
I smiled and looked at her husband, Muħammad Ashfāq.
Muħammad Ashfāq laughed.
“You don’t need my permission, Durgesh. She is entirely capable to take her own decisions. Sorry to say it, but actually you Hindus are more possessive of your wives than we Musalmīn are. Islam is liberal enough to permit divorce if the spouses have too many differences to the extent they can’t live with each other any more.”
“Islam concentrates on liberty more, Hinduism concentrates on family more. If you want a strong family, you have to sacrifice your liberty for it. If you want a greater liberty, you have to sacrifice your family for it. It depends on what you need more, your family or your liberty.”
Lubnā Salīm laughed.
“Hey, don’t preach your Hinduism to my ardent Musalmān husband, you Hindu scoundrel. Let him remain Musalmān, please!”
Muħammad Ashfāq laughed.
“I love my Īmān even more than my life, Lubnā Salīm. Don’t worry. The entire history of us Musalmān mankind stands to evidence that we Musalmīn always sacrificed everything, including our Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wives, and our families too, to save our Īmān. It’s better to lose our Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife and family even than to lose our Īmān itself. We Musalmīn always let Hindus fuck our Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wives even, instead of letting Hindus fuck our Īmān itself.”
Lubnā Salīm looked at her proud arrogant Musalmān husband, Muħammad Ashfāq, proudly.
“I’m proud of you, Muħammad Ashfāq.”
“Thank you, Lubnā Salīm, my dear beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife.”
I could not believe what I was listening to.
But that’s what I was listening to from entire Musalmīn ever since my childhood.
They had their own kind of morals throughout their own history and they loved their morals more than their own life even.
I had to admit Hindus were not so dedicated to their morals.
The Hindus were better in sex, but the Musalmīn were better in morals.
I once more realized it.
Surprisingly, I respected Musalmīn more for it, than I respected Hindus even.
Saiyadah Fatimah PhD, my ardent Musalmān wife and my infinite Musalmān women even, never agreed with me.
Well, they too had their own morals.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān watched her contemptuously.
“That will do,” he said coldly, “I don’t need a lecture on parental discipline from an unmarried woman. Principles when brought into practice are always modified according to the physical reality of the time and place.”
Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ said scornfully.
“I think I’m just beginning to know you actually what you are truthfully.”
Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān laughed curtly, cunningly and even threateningly somewhat, under the disguise of being practical.
“You don’t know me yet, Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ. I want you. You don’t know me enough to understand me that what I want I get. Don’t think you can walk out on me. I’ve noticed lately that you’ve been talking of Durgesh and Hindus more than of us Musalmīn. There’s a trend among you Musalmān young woman to hate us Musalmīn and love Durgesh/Hindus. Perhaps you don’t realize how frequently you are quoting Durgesh. It’s Durgesh this and Durgesh that― remember this, Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ, you’ve announced your engagement to me. I refuse to let any woman humiliate me. You’ve promised to marry me and you are going through it.”
Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ laughed.
“Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān, I sympathize with you. You don’t know how Durgesh would payback you for what you just said. Well, best of luck.”*
Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān was furious.
Yet he knew his fury was worthless.
Why the hell every woman he is interested in, goes to Durgesh sooner or later?
He had a rare version of ‘Alf Layla wa Layla’, ‘The Thousand and One Nights’.
Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān didn’t know how authentic that version of ‘Alf Layla wa Layla’, ‘The Thousand and One Nights’ was.
He had gone through an English translation of the same too named ‘Arabian Nights’.
It was originally translated by Sir Richard Francis Burton.
It was adapted with an afterword by Jack Zipes with a new introduction by Daniel Beaumont.
Daniel Beaumont had written in his introduction:
‘…On the basis of these facts, and the internal evidence of the stories themselves, there is general agreement that an Arabic translation of a Persian story collection formed the core of the Nights.
The Persian collection itself probably began as a translation of an Indian collection―the device of a frame tale itself is often considered an Indian literary device.
The Arabic translation was probably made in Baghdad in the eighth or ninth century, when Baghdad was the center of a vast translation project funded by Abbasid caliphs.’
―Arabian Nights: Volume 1: Signet Classics: Edition 2007: Introduction Page viii.
The edition Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān had, proved Daniel Beaumont’s this conclusion true.
It said the nude male Sex Partner that was actually in the arms of Shah Zaman’s nude queen was not any black cook with crude features, smeared with kitchen grease and grime, but Durgesh himself.
Of course, the authenticity of the version Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān had was always heavily criticized, but Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān still believed that it was the original Indian version that Daniel Beaumont had referred to.
That version also said that King Shahryar could actually never kill his any wife.
Durgesh always rescued her either this way or that.
Even Scheherazade was herself Durgesh’s girlfriend actually that helped Durgesh in rescuing the poor helpless innocent Musalmān Beauties Shahryar was so vowed to kill crazily.
For a moment Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān’s fingers were as if steel on Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ’s wrists, his eyes were deadly.
And then almost instantly, the mask came back.
For Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān, of course, it wasn’t any mask.
It was his sophisticated practical behavior instead.
Yet, Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ thought she knew him better.
He said contritely, regretfully.
“I’m sorry. I think I shouldn’t bother you with these things when you are in hurry. Come dear, I’ll take you to your psychiatrist clinic. I’m really sorry about my son, Muħammad Jamīl, too. I’m sorry again if I hurt you even a little bit. Yet, you see, I happen to know my son, Muħammad Jamīl, quite well, better than you actually, naturally. I think, moreover, I know exactly how he should be handled.”
That night, after giving the matter a lot of thought, Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ wrote a formal e-mail breaking her engagement to Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān.*
Three nights later she went out with me openly, for the first time.
We went out to the restaurant that I knew was Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ’s favorite.
There wasn’t any incident whatsoever.
Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ sighed relieved.
She never thought any Musalmān could be as patient and sophisticated as to let his ex-fiancée get away from him so easily.
Being generally losers mostly, due to their immensely ever scorned communalism, unsophisticated, undemocratic behavior, their criminal activities, under education/uneducation, Musalmīn usually never took ‘no’ from ladies so normally.
It was more severe when the Musalmīn lost their Musalmān fiancée, girlfriend, to a successful Hindu/Durgesh.
Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān had too threatened her already to the effect.
Two nights later, Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān called to ask if he might talk with Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ.
“It won’t do any good,” Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ told Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān, “Anyway, I’m already going out tonight.”
“I see. With Durgesh, I think.”
“Stop being jealous of Durgesh. Durgesh is not being favored by me, he is obliging me, instead.”
“I know it’s not easy for any communal Musalmān to digest the fact that any Musalmān Beauty is preferring a Hindu male on him. Yet, the Musalmīn must understand it’s none of their business, damn it.”
It was very difficult for Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān to control himself.
He immensely hated the Musalmān houseladies who never understood how disgraceful it was for the Musalmīn that a Musalmān houselady prefer a Hindu on a Musalmān.
Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān wanted to break the beautiful neck of Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ actually, but he knew he couldn’t do it.
Durgesh, of course, would never break Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān’s neck for it.
He is a softie, so called law abiding, citizen.
All the cowards that don’t have enough courage to fulfill their own needs, fighting with the persons that come in their way, call themselves softie.
They aren’t softie actually.
They are bloody cowards.
They criticize most of the Musalmīn because most of the Musalmīn aren’t cowards.
A Musalmān, and coward?
Let them call us criminal minded, and criminal even.
But no Musalmān can surrender to cowardice ever.
It’s against his/her self-respect.
Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān understands Durgesh perfectly.
He is a softie, a coward actually.
He can’t fight with anyone as a man should ever.
He always fights feminine.
Most of the time he keeps fucking Musalmān Beauties, beautiful Musalmān houseladies and other beautiful women even.
It has made Durgesh himself somewhat feminine in his entire approach.
He calls it to be law abiding.
Hiding behind law.
Durgesh would create some entirely legal situation for Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān that would make him to think even it would have been better if Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān had died instead.
Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ had said curtly,
“It’s none of your business,” she snapped and slammed the phone back to its cradle.
Later on, when the phone rang repeatedly, Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ didn’t even answer it.
I went for Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ promptly at eight.
Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ once more couldn’t believe I was really thirty seven.
She thought I wasn’t more than twenty eight.
Allah, how handsome I was.
Medium height, not too tall not too small.
Handsomely in between, an obsession to both the tall Beauties and smaller Beauties.
Neither too small to be a disgrace for tall women, nor too tall to make smaller women ashamed of their comparatively smaller height.
Both were crazy for Durgesh desperately.
What a man.
Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ loved my expressive eyes.
We both went once more to the same restaurant.
There wasn’t any delay in table reservation.
Yet, Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ suggested to stand for some time in the cocktail lounge.
Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ didn’t see Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān until it was too late, nor could she swear afterward that Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān had actually thrust out his foot so that I might stumble.
There were plenty of witnesses to what happened after that.
Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān had fallen disgraced.
He got to his feet, said,
“Watch who you’re pushing,” and tried to hit me flush on my jaw.
I moved from there lightning.
To Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān’s ‘bad luck’, his fist fell on a prize boxer’s jaw.
He took Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān on his own fists furiously.
Someone telephoned police.
Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān was beaten publicly too disgracefully, his jaw was broken and he was arrested even for starting it all.
The prize boxer reported it was an attempt to kill him.
Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān shouted that the prize boxer was on my payroll.
But he couldn’t prove the same.
Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ laughed at him.
“You should have been more careful of Durgesh, Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān. Your conspiracy has backfired. Now, go to the prison on attempt to murder a prize boxer.”*
There was a commotion, with waiters swarming around them, and eventually the police.
Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ was certain she had seen a glint of metal as Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān’s right hand had flashed across in that carefully timed, planned to be perfectly executed smash.
The surgeon who wired the prize fighter’s broken jaw was confident the injuries had been caused by brass knuckles.
So many persons claimed to witness that as the prize fighter went down with a broken jaw, two of the friends of Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān, who were seated at the table, jumped up to grab his arms.
“Take it easy, Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān,” one of them said.
The police hadn’t searched Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān only.
When they didn’t find any brass knuckles on Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān, they searched his friend as well.
He himself volunteered to let the police search him.
Yet, the police authorities were not born yesterday.
They sarcastically asked Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān of his second friend.
He had tried to disappear before the police came.
Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān explained that his second friend that had tried to disappear had had an engagement.
He didn’t want to be detained by a lot of formalities.
He would be available, however, if anybody tried to make anything of it.
He too was searched.
The prize fighter’s friends had succeeded in holding him against his desperate attempts to get rid of them.
He had the brass knuckles containing the prize fighter’s blood on it.
The police arrested his friends as well, as the coconspirators.*
Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān’s story was simple.
He had been sitting with his friends.
His back was to the door.
I, in passing, had not only stepped on his foot, but had kicked back at his shin too.
He had got to his feet.
I had doubled my fist.
Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān admitted he had tried unsuccessfully to beat me to the punch.
What the hell else could he do?
A week after that, his sister, Dr. Al Raħīmah Al Raħmān, began to get the letters:
‘Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān’s sweet sister, Dr. Al Raħīmah Al Raħmān, I am writing this letter to you because if I don’t, I will surely go crazy with what I am feeling for you.
I also have to trust that you do not share this letter with anyone because your brother, Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān, would get into a great deal of more trouble if you did.
So my beautiful Musalmān young lady, if you cannot keep this letter a secret between you and me you should not read any further.
DO NOT READ THE REST OF THIS MY SWEET UNLESS YOU PROMISE TO KEEP IT OUR SECRET
I had a dream about you Dr. Al Raħīmah Al Raħmān, right after you turned 28, and the memory of that dream has brought forward all kinds of sexual thoughts I have had for you for many years.
I was thinking lustful thoughts about what we could do with each other if we became lovers.
I decided to walk past your room to go to my office one evening after you went to bed.
As I passed I heard some noise coming from your room.
That is what this note is about.
Dr. Al Raħīmah Al Raħmān, do you remember the day I walked into your room without knocking and caught you playing with your extremely beautiful young smart Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
You had turned 28 a month earlier.
I think I was as surprised as you.
But I cannot forget how sexy you looked with your beautiful young Musalmān legs spread wide and your fingers rolling your extremely beautiful young smart Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot lips and clit round and round.
Your other hand was massaging your big sexy Musalmān breasts.
I watched you pinch your nipples and suck one nipple into your mouth.
I was so impressed with how big and firm you Musalmān breasts are.
I wanted to hop into the bed with you and make love to you on the spot.
I have to confess, I stood there watching you for about half a minute before you opened your eyes and screamed with your embarrassment.
Yes, my beautiful Musalmān young lady; I was watching you and getting so hot from looking at you play with your sexy pretty little extremely beautiful young smart Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
My Uncut Hindu Lund got so hard and swollen from watching my beautiful Musalmān young lady.
I had to fuck your Bhābhījān, Dr. Al Kausar Al Firdaus, four times that day just because of what I saw.
I could not get the thought of you out of my head.
I fantasized squirting my hot Hindu cum into your extremely beautiful young smart Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
Then I asked you to lick all my Hindu cum off my Uncut Hindu Lund and show it to me while it lie in your tremendously attractive Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth.
In my fantasy you opened your tremendously attractive Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth and rolled my Hindu cum around your Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān tongue, smiled and swallowed it.
Then you opened your tremendously attractive Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth to show me you had swallowed my entire hot Hindu load.
That night I even thought about coming into your room while you were sleeping and uncovering you to see if you slept without panties.
I did go into your room but decided I was being a very bad Hindu fucking you unknowingly, and I could not get beyond that.
What would you do if I did come into your room some night?
I need to know.
I will assume you did not read the letter unless you answer me.
Durgesh, I knew you were watching me.
Why do you think the door was ajar and I had no covers on?
I’ve noticed you checking me out, almost drooling as I bend over when I pick something up.
I could hear the door open.
I acted surprised just in case I was wrong.
I want you.
I have never let a boy touch my sweet extremely beautiful young smart Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
I am saving it for you
My sweet beautiful young daughter Dr. Al Raħīmah Al Raħmān,
I am overwhelmed with desire and lust for you.
I cannot think of anything but you and how hot and sexy you looked while touching yourself.
You made a confession to me and told me that you left the door unlocked and had uncovered yourself on purpose.
You wanted me to find you playing with your virgin extremely beautiful young smart Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
I am glad you told me this because I have to confess something to you as well.
I am sure you will remember this.
How could you ever forget?
Remember the night when I went out with some of my Musalmān friends fucking their beautiful Musalmān houseladies, because I was feeling lonely after your Ammī left us.
That was exactly two weeks after we had your 28th birthday party at Applebee’s with your friends.
I was not driving.
Yet, I was too vivacious fucking my Musalmān friends’ beautiful countless Musalmān houseladies that even you had to help me into the house.
I vaguely remember you watching something on the downstairs TV when they brought me in.
They brought me up to my bedroom, removed my shoes and left me.
I was able to take off the rest of my clothing and crashed into the bed.
I fell into a rather deep sleep.
You came into my room much later that night.
Dr. Al Raħīmah Al Raħmān, after your confession to me about wanting to masturbate in front of me I know I did not dream it.
You walked in and looked at me.
You saw me sleeping in the nude, on my back as usual.
I know what you did.
I was not 100% sure until I got your note.
Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā, Oh, my God. I wish I could go back and relive that night again only totally sober this time.
After you came in you checked to see if I was sleeping.
I did not want to talk with you.
I made you believe, Dr. Al Raħīmah Al Raħmān, I was sleeping.
You stood over me and looked at my naked Hindu male body for a minute or two.
Then you did something that was so pleasantly shocking to me.
You reached down with your delicate hand and touched my Uncut Hindu Lund!
It felt like an erotic electric shock running through my whole body.
My first instinct was to reprimand you for touching me because you had stepped way out of the acceptable boundaries between a Hindu male and an orthodox ardent Musalmān young lady.
Dr. Al Raħīmah Al Raħmān, I hope you can forgive me for not stopping you, but I guess I was too selfish to do that.
You see, even when you were 18 I thought about what it would be like to share my love for you in a physical way.
You are so beautiful, so pretty, and so hot.
I watched you grow from a little sweet girl into a sexy, hot young Musalmān woman.
I have to admit to you that after your Ammī left us, to return to your Abbū, I started to think about what it would be like to have YOU as my wife.
I fantasized being with you every day and felt like a grand man because of those carnal feeling for you.
I was so careful not to say anything to you about my feeling.
So Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān’s sweet sister, Dr. Al Raħīmah Al Raħmān, please forgive me for not stopping you that night.
You started to pump my Uncut Hindu Lund and were immediately rewarded with it getting hard and swollen.
I was peeking through my eyes and had such a difficult time making you believe I was sleeping.
You looked so curious when stroking it.
Then you noticed a drop of my pre-cum on the swollen purple/red head of my Uncut Hindu Lund.
I almost came because of what you did next.
You took your finger and wiped the pre-cum of my Uncut Hindu Lund and brought it to your nose to smell it.
Then you licked it off your finger and tasted it.
You swallowed that little dollop of my Hindu cum with a smile on your tremendously beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān face.
You know what you did next.
You bent over and still holding my Uncut Hindu Lund in your hand you smelled my Hindu manhood.
You put your nose into my balls and took a deep sniff.
Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā! My Lord, I wanted to reach out with my hands and take your tremendously beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān face in my hands and shower you with my Hindu kisses while telling you I was in love with you.
I am in love not platonic, but rather in love with you as a woman; my woman.
I wanted to tell you I would do anything for your love to be returned.
Again, I was too unsure to bare my feelings to you.
I was cautious and really felt you were just curious to see what a man’s Uncut Hindu Lund and balls looked and felt like.
I thought you felt safe that nothing would happen to you because I was as if somewhat your “Daddy”, as I fucked your Ammī too already, and even if I woke up I would not do anything sexual with you.
When you licked my Uncut Hindu Lund head I thought I had gone straight to heaven.
My Uncut Hindu Lund started to pulse and get even bigger.
I was so hot.
Dr. Al Raħīmah Al Raħmān, I can honestly say I have never been hotter in my life then you got me that night.
You were so tentative with your young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān tongue when you started; so unsure so innocent.
I knew you were tasting my Hindu manhood, deciding if you liked the smell and taste of my Uncut Hindu Lund.
I got my answer very shortly when you put my Uncut Hindu Lund head into your tremendously attractive Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth. You sucked it like a lollipop at first and got frightened because you heard me moan.
I tried not to, but with Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān’s sweet sister, Dr. Al Raħīmah Al Raħmān’s sexy Panjvaqtah Namāzī extremely beautiful Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth rapped around my Uncut Hindu Lund, I could not stop the moan from coming out.
I was cautious you would run out of the room for fear of me waking up.
I covered it by moaning again without your hand or mouth on my Uncut Hindu Lund.
You thought I was just moaning in my sleep and went back to your naughty sexual work.
You were sucking my big hard Uncut Hindu Lund off, wildly, ravenously, proudly.
It didn’t take you long to realize how sensitive the rim of my Uncut Hindu Lund head is.
You started to roll your Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān tongue round and round it.
I knew I was going to cum soon and wanted to tell you, but I knew that was not possible because you wanted me to be asleep.
That made you feel safe and secure, knowing you would not get in trouble for the naughty things you were doing with your ever loser Musalmān brother’s Hindu enemy’s Uncut Hindu Lund.
You continued to suck and stroke me until I could not hold it back any longer.
You were so surprised by the amount of jest that shot from the slit in my Uncut Hindu Lund head.
You tried to keep it all in your tremendously attractive Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth, but you were overwhelmed by it.
Some of it dripped out of your tremendously attractive Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth and fell on your belly.
Some more ran down your tremendously attractive Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth to your neck.
I was sneaking a look at you when I came so I know what happened.
What was absolutely amazing to me was that you swallowed my Hindu cum! Your Ammī never would do that. I felt closer and more intimate with you at that moment then I have ever felt with even your Ammī in my life.
You got up and went to your bathroom after that and came back with a warm wash cloth and cleaned the cum off of my Uncut Hindu Lund.
The last things you did made me cry with pure joy.
You gently bent down and planted a sweet kiss on your brother’s Hindu enemy’s Uncut Hindu Lund and then kissed me sweetly on my male Hindu lips.
After I woke that morning I thought I had had a very erotic dream about you.
When I saw you in the kitchen that morning you had a very knowing smile on your tremendously beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān face.
I thought that was your way of trying to be the lady of the house dealing with a Hindu man who went out and fucked other beautiful Musalmān houseladies of your brother, Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān, last night.
I now know better.
His 28 year old extremely beautiful Musalmān sister was a very naughty and smart girl last night with her ever loser Musalmān brother’s Hindu enemy.
Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān’s 28 years old extremely beautiful Musalmān sister sucked My Uncut Hindu Lund off and swallowed my Hindu cum.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam