Al Jihad Al Vaqār glanced about the spacious office once more.
Was Al Nādir Al Ghāzī shrewd enough to play all these games?
Was it possible he deliberately gave her his media empire?
His father, Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī, allowed him to have it for a trial year.
Now, his former wife, Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb was claiming it was her property.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār sighed.
In Delhi, Aap had gotten a landslide victory even on BJP.
INC was finished there altogether.
It couldn’t get even a single seat in 2015 Assembly Elections.
What did it mean?
The Anti- Hindu forces were winning again?
Was it the beginning of a Counter Revolution?
Against the ever first Psychological Revolution in the entire history of humankind?
It might be.
The Original ever first Psychological Revolution started with the demand of Midterm 2012.
It took two years to build up the required reality and to bring it up to the reality then.
And now the Counter Revolution?
Well, it isn’t so easy.
If they think they can do it so easily, they were living in fools’ paradise.
The most we need are anal rheostats to destroy the anti human desires.
They are also there.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār directed her sight toward her desk calendar.
She was ready to get going.
She had only one trial year.
“Be right in, Al Jihad Al Vaqār. We have everything set.”
Al Kħālidah Al Jibrān was carrying a handful of folders.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār motioned her friends and lieutenants to the rattan chairs across from her desk.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār felt comfortable with them.
Both of them were as creative as Al Jihad Al Vaqār herself was.
They were aggressive, daring, and filled with energy.
These were Al Jihad Al Vaqār’s confidants and her loyalists, and from now on, they would be properly rewarded
Al Kħālidah Al Jibrān indicated to the projector.
There was a running information,
“HVSI Times manages its subscription always on the top.”
Al Kħālidah Al Jibrān smiled at her, “I thought we should too adopt the procedure.”
“HVSI Times represents the revolutionaries that successfully ended the Scam era.” Al Jihad Al Vaqār said, “We haven’t enough capital to compete with HVSI, No one has.”
“Sure, but it’s today. When HVSI started HVSI Times they didn’t have this capital.”
Al Jihad Al Vaqār smiled.
HVSI Times was the dream newspaper.
It has survived the biggest threat of news TV channels.
It somehow always maintained to give something new to its readers the news TV channels couldn’t provide.
As soon as Al Jihad Al Vaqār got the media empire in settlement, she visited HVSI Times herself personally.
It was a multi-story building.
None knew how many stories it had.
They said it was an endless building.
No one believed it.
How a building could be endless.
It was certainly a publicity strategy.
It was the tallest building nevertheless.
The heart of the structure, the one that pumped activity into all the other stories was its Seventh floor.
Most of it was given over to the HVSI Times newsroom.
Its one portion was reserved for the publisher’s suite.
It consisted of the publisher’s main office, the office for my personal secretary and receptionist, a conference and electronic media room, two offices for the advertising director and her assistant, and glassed in cubicles for the managing editor and the assistant managing editor.
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī never changed anything.
He surrendered it to Al Jihad Al Vaqār as he did find it.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār, the temporary heir to the suite and to the building had made few personnel changes.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār retired Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī’s elderly female secretary on a generous pension and replaced her with her own secretary, Al Åāyeshah Al Sheikħ, a smart, brisk, thirtyish young woman with short-cropped dark hair and horn rimmed glasses.
Her ambitions were the driving force that would never let her stop anywhere.
Again, the difference in the intensity of their ambitions was the decisive factor.
Al Åāyeshah Al Sheikħ lacked it.
She stopped somewhat before getting resources she was after, while Al Jihad Al Vaqār didn’t deliberately.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār had more patience in the matter.
“Let’s start with the two of you. I’ve been giving it some thought. You will both be answerable only to me. Outside of general orders, everything I tell you will be kept in strictest confidence. Al Kħālidah Al Jibrān, this is a bigger job, much bigger than Special Projects. Your work will be greatly expanded, naturally, accordingly.”*
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās straddled me with her beautiful face towards me.
She was enjoying my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund into her comparatively immensely young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot once again.
I knew it would never be a once only phenomenon.
Once with Durgesh
All the rest is trash
The more aged I grew the crazier they were for me.
“I don’t want to burn my bridges, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā.” Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās said fucking my ever stout ever pleasure giving ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund wildly, “And why should I? Al Nādir Al Ghāzī has played with my beautiful body, even if in his own peculiar way. I couldn’t help that. My entire body was at his discretion. If instead of fucking me, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī enjoyed tongue fucking me more it wasn’t my fault. I am not responsible for it. He has to pay for my time I spent with him. It was precious.”
“Sure,” I agreed with Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās squeezing her excellent exquisite boobs and buttocks both.
My ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund was harder and harder now into her young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot with her each aggressive thrust.
She was kissing me wildly.
Her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot was squeezing my entire ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund around its shaft.
“I’m really entitled to this alimony if you should warn Al Nādir Al Ghāzī that HVS Law Internationals were going to ask for an increase if he dragged me into court again. It would keep Al Nādir Al Ghāzī from making a move.”
I laughed cunningly.
“Done, however if all the alimony is going to cease in a few months, why not…”
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās said bitterly.
I smiled coldly.
“And you want me to engineer that deal for you. Is that it?”
“Well?” I asked.
“You think I’m terribly scheming and designing.”
“You are cautious. You are protecting your interests.”
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās kept fucking me wildly.
“Priyavrat Chaturvedī wants to fix things so marrying him won’t entail a financial sacrifice on my part. Do you think I’m a gold digger?”
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās kissed me gratefully as my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund penetrated her young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot entirely.
“Thank you,” she thanked me once again for letting her fuck me.
“Are you deceiving Priyavrat Chaturvedī for marrying him?”
“Certainly not,” Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās said earnestly, “Priyavrat Chaturvedī knows each and everything of my previous marriages and my recent relationship with you too. I never play dirty with the persons who never play dirty with me.”
“Yet Priyavrat Chaturvedī wants to marry you?”
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās smiled triumphantly.
“What do you think? Am I not that much beautiful?”
“You are too beautiful. Priyavrat Chaturvedī can do anything for you.”
“What do you mean?” I smiled cunningly.
“You won’t do anything for me, even if I keep fucking you?” Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās looked into my naughty eyes.
I winked at her.
“If you keep fucking me, Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās, I can do anything for you, myself, if it isn’t immoral and illegal.”
“Even if I’d be married to Priyavrat Chaturvedī?”
“That’s Priyavrat Chaturvedī’s problem, not mine.” I said gravely.*
There was a note on his table.
His father, Rām Shankar Chaturvedī, had called him.
Everything has changed fast.
Narendr Modi was delivering fast what he had promised to the one hundred twenty five crore Indians.
His father, Rām Shankar Chaturvedī, was worried as the other Congresspersons were.
INC couldn’t win even a single seat in 2015 Assembly Elections.
It was the absolute change in Time Dimension too.
It was Infinite BrāhmKalp now.
“I know. There was a note to the effect on my table.”
“You don’t understand Infinite BrāhmKalp, Muħammad Shakīl.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your Kħālāzād cousin, Ambikā Tripāŧhī, is no more interested in me.”
Muħammad Shakīl was startled.
He entered His father, Rām Shankar Chaturvedī’s Private Chamber.*
He never knew why.
Rām Shankar Chaturvedī was a Congressperson.
Imāmzādī Al Åārifah Al Muħammad retorted.
“You fool; do you want to make me responsible for what my Abbū did?”
“Certainly not, Ammī, certainly not.” Priyavrat Chaturvedī agreed, “Nevertheless, you can’t blame Pitājī too. He loved you very much. Nānājān was trying his best to convert Pitājī to Islam. Pitājī couldn’t infuriate Hindus by converting himself. He would have lost Hindu votes for himself and INC. INC never permitted him.”*
Despite his increasing age, his eyesight was still very good.
It wasn’t any rare thing now however.
They said it was Infinite BrāhmKalp now.
“The Bachhalyās were always the best about publicity. They always use superstitions of the people to spread white lies favorable to them.”
He straightened his cuffs, leaned back and said normally,
“Sit down, Priyavrat.”
“As always Ammī has reported you with heavy bias, Pitājī.”
“I doubted that myself. Yet, son, she is right in one thing. You should marry now.”
“What’s wrong in it if it happens?”
“Durgesh is immensely against Brahm Padminī Brahm Jagdambā Act everywhere. Yet the entire Brāhmañ Brahmkanyā Brahmāñī Creations are passing it one by one. Durgesh can’t oppose Democracy. Therefore it doesn’t make any difference whether Durgesh is against it or not.”
He touched an inconspicuous contact switch and a section of the wall grew transparent.
“You are blundering in the same way, my son, the Brāhmañs of the ever first Satyug did.”
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī watched Al Mujāhidah Al Ghāzī disappear into the Masjid.
A good girl, this one, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī thought, and brave for so young.
She was nineteen only, wasn’t she?
They were lucky to have her enlisted in their cause.
He wondered what she was doing in the Masjid right now.
I smiled at Al Mujāhidah Al Ghāzī in the Masjid.
“You are right, sir. Your stepson is actually a terrorist.” Nineteen years old, Al Mujāhidah Al Ghāzī, reported to me.
None could believe she was a journalist and hated terrorism very much.
“You know your Ammī and I had a close relationship.” I said gravely.
“Am I your daughter?” Al Mujāhidah Al Ghāzī asked impatiently.
Al Qahar Al Īmān smiled.
“Durgesh is incapable to father any daughter. Don’t worry.”
“Would you still let your daughter, Al Jihad Al Vaqār, marry that pig terrorist?” Al Mujāhidah Al Ghāzī asked Al Qahar Al Īmān.
“Al Jihad Al Vaqār wants to cuckold him to Durgesh and herself.” Al Qahar Al Īmān smiled, “Moreover, you need a supporter and friend in the enemy’s camp.”
“I admire your Ammī.” I said.
“Yet you couldn’t keep her with you.” Al Mujāhidah Al Ghāzī said bitterly, “My Ammī, Dr. Al Faraħ Al Shams, left her husband for you, and…”
“For me?” I interrupted her, “Who told you?”
Al Mujāhidah Al Ghāzī hesitated somewhat.
“Didn’t you both love each other?”
“We do. We still love each other, but your Ammī is fighting against Muslim terrorism. She wants to remain in the enemy’s camp.”
“Leading a life of celibacy?”
“Certainly not. She is a lot smarter than even you think of her.” I smiled, “She pretends that she is working on me to expose me.”
“To expose you?”
“Sure, she is writing a biographical book on me. She wants to blast my ever unconquerable image of a Profound Multiversalist Humanist and the ultramodern Messiah of the entire womankind.”
“And they believe her?”
“That’s where your Ammī’s skills come to play the utmost critical role. It wasn’t easy to convince them. Yet she succeeded.”
“How do you know?” Al Mujāhidah Al Ghāzī asked gravely unemotionally.
I looked at her gravely myself.
What did Al Mujāhidah Al Ghāzī want to say?
Did she suspect her own Ammī, Dr. Al Faraħ Al Shams, too?
Was the nineteen years old miraculously intelligent young woman doubting my so vast experience with Musalmān Womankind?
Well, why not?
Even I wasn’t all knowing, Allah Ålīmun Kħabīrun.
Lā ilāh illillāh.
Ekam Sadviprā bahudhā vadanti.*
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī’s hands remained at rest on the keyboard of his HVSI laptop.
He contemplated the last sentence he had written.
There were only few educated persons among mujāhidīn.
Among mujāhidāt this number is almost zero.
Entire efforts to kill Narendr Modī have always backfired.
Now Narendr Modī is the 15th Prime Minister of India.
The more he thought of Narendr Modī, the more confirmed he was that Durgesh was himself Narendr Modī in his one more subtle body.
No one believed him.
They even laughed at him.
Yet, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī was still confident.
It was powerful enough to cap the opening section of his book, a provocative, a confrontational sentence that would surely bring a million readers excitedly into the heart of his sensational story.
Yet, perhaps, as things stood, it promised too much.
His book ‘Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan: Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tålā ånahā’ was still a best seller.
No one had approved it before publication.
But now it was a blockbuster in sales.
Yes, there are so many critics too.
But the more the book was criticized the more its sale was increased.
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī is an established writer now, perhaps even more popular than Durgesh himself now.
Durgesh has destroyed his entire career as a writer himself knowingly.
He is more devoted to his Family Movement now than he is devoted to anything else.
The moron is crazy to reestablish family everywhere.
His organization of similar morons, HVSI, is no doubt now ruling the entire creations actually.
Yet, Durgesh is only its Lifelong Chairman, nothing more.
Considering the evidences that he was providing in his book ‘Narendr Modī or Durgesh himself?’, the categorical and authoritative ring of that sentence might invite a subsequent letdown and a reaction of antagonism from his book’s next reader.
And that might be fatal.
Thoughtfully, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī weighed the possibility of modifying the last sentence, in fact the last paragraphs:
‘I would never claim that Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is really Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tålā ånahā.
I have listed my entire arguments supporting my view in my concerned book ‘Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan: Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tålā ånahā’ already.
Similarly, I would never claim that Narendr Modī is really Durgesh himself in his another subtle body.
I am enlisting my entire arguments why I do think so.
Peruse them carefully, I request.
Think on them.
And then take your own decision for yourself.
Is there any solution to this dilemma fairer?’*
A year ago, Al Mujāhidah Al Ghāzī’s Ammī, Dr. Al Faraħ Al Shams, had been press secretary for Durgesh, the Mayor of Ved Nagar.
She had given up her job as managing editor of the HVSI Times and moved to the Mayor House.
“It is not exactly the Front Page,” Dr. Al Faraħ Al Shams said ruefully, smiling somewhat, “But I like being on television and meeting rich socialites. Now I’ve got to leave you for an hour.”
Al Mujāhidah Al Ghāzī pointed at her beautiful Ammī, still immensely beautiful despite her thirty eight running.
Almost entire ladies that had sex with Durgesh did never appear of their age.
Durgesh himself looked anywhere between twenty eight to thirty five, never anymore.
Imāmzādi Ħumayrah Qāzī was the most wonderful of them.
She was eighty eight years actually, twenty three years older than Durgesh even.
Yet she never appeared more than sixty.
Was Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan correct in her Hindu Lund Musalmān Choot vaginal rheostat theory changing lines of force with every penetration?*
Bābarah Åālamgīr was immensely pleased that ultimately she had gotten Durgesh inside her.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan guided her step by step how to do it.
“Durgesh is an ever over moral damnfool.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had grimaced.
Bābarah Åālamgīr smiled.
“I do understand. But we need him.”
“That’s right.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan said, “He still opposes the cuckolding of terrorists, criminals and criminal minded Pseudo Musalmīn while they are still killing the innocent non Musalmīn, and even true Musalmīn, in the name of Islam.”
Bābarah Åālamgīr watched her mentor spellbound.
She could not forget, however:
On Nargis Sunil Dutt street, in Bājī Rāo Mastānī Nagar, facing the wall of the old city, sat a large luxurious house.
It belonged to Al Åbd Al Mustafā.
He was the father of the owner of the Al Mustafā Shipping Company.
His daughter was not only the owner of the Al Mustafā Shipping Company, she was the owner of the most of the taxicabs of the island as well.
The island was one of the utmost infamous Hindu Lund Musalmān Choot Islands.
Al Åbd Al Mustafā and Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr waited anxiously as Muħammad cleaned up and changed into dry clothing after his swim ashore.
Al Åbd Al Mustafā and Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr both knew that the appearance of Al Muħammad on Modern Democratic Årabia meant a top level mission for Al Fataħ Al Islam.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s policy had been adamantly to cuckold almost every Musalmān to his over ardent Musalmān wife and Durgesh/her Hindu lover.
Neither Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan nor her ever insistent ever persistent anti-Muslim Young lady Musalmān Brigade was ever ready to listen to anything reasonable from any Musalmān whosoever.
They had immense undisputed faith in Dr. Ålī Sina’s claim that every Musalmān was either a terrorist or a potential terrorist.
Despite Durgesh’s open disagreement with Dr. Ålī Sina in this matter, and in so many other matters too, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her Young lady Musalmān Brigade never stopped to cuckold Musalmīn to themselves and Durgesh.
Modern Democratic Årabia wasn’t actually democratic only.
It was Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s and her Young lady Musalmān Brigade’s obsession too, under different rational and humane disguises.
Yazīd Malåūn lånat ålayhi had never succeeded in disgracing Islam as much as in Modern Democratic Årabia.
Al Fataħ Al Islam was an organization devoted to the exodus of Musalmīn from Modern Democratic Årabia.
The emigrated Musalmīn thus were not being settled to any particular country.
They were just fleeing away from Modern Democratic Årabia to protect their dignity, manhood, self-respect, honor and their religion as well.
Modern Democratic Årabia too had its religion Islam mostly but constitutionally it was a secular country now, as India was.
The Musalmīn that opposed her new secular constitution were warned by Modern Democratic Årabia government to decide to obey the constitution or be punished according to the new secular penal code of Modern Democratic Årabia.
Even Durgesh refused to interfere in the internal affairs of Modern Democratic Årabia.
“It’s an internal affair of Modern Democratic Årabia. I haven’t any moral, legal or political right to comment on it.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her Young lady Musalmān Brigade smiled on it, triumphantly.
Al Fataħ Al Islam was helping smuggle Musalmīn to anywhere they chose to immigrate.
However, as fast as the Modern Democratic Årabia government caught the Al Fataħ Al Islam boats trying to run the blockade the Musalmān muhājirīn, refugees actually, would be transferred to the detention camps.
Al Muħammad, in a fresh change of clothing, entered the room and nodded to Al Åbd Al Mustafā and Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr.
Al Muħammad and Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr were intimate friends for a long time.
Yet, both of them didn’t trust Al Åbd Al Mustafā blindly ever.
The risk was not the lives of the Musalmīn.
It was their cuckolding.
That was the very thing they were running away from.
They played a role of formality in front of Al Åbd Al Mustafā.
After all, Al Åbd Al Mustafā was only a sympathizer, not a member of their organization, Al Fataħ Al Islam.
Al Muħammad got right to the point.
“Headquarters has sent me here to stage a mass escape from the detention camps. The reasons are obvious to all of us. What is your opinion, Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr?”*
Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr watched Al Muħammad gravely.
“She is absolutely anti-Muslim. Even her dream Hindu man, Durgesh, is against the cuckolding of anyone, but…”
“I don’t believe.” Al Muħammad said harshly.
“Is it correct that even you are cuckold to your wife, Zaynab bint Åāmir and Durgesh?”
Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr smiled forlornly.
“It was the only way to survive then. Not only me, even Imām Ůmar Fārūq, Muħammad Ůsmān and Ålī Abī Tālib too have been cuckolded, not to their immensely righteous Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wives only, but to their entire Musalmān houseladies that are beautiful.”
“Why the hell you, all the four, didn’t opt for Hijrat already, instead?” Al Muħammad was furious.
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan never allowed. She called us four her Kħulfa-e-Rāshidīn. Ridiculed and disgraced us tremendously.”
“And you couldn’t do anything?”
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was disgracing our Musalmān houseladies in front of us. We had to protect them.” Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr said helplessly.
Al Muħammad paced the room thoughtfully.
He had been sent to Al Riyāz months before by the secret army of Al Wahābīs.
It was a shame that Musalmīn were still fighting desperately for their own particular denomination, instead of fighting for entire Ummat-e-Muslimah.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was too smart to be defeated.
“She is the lady Iblīs personified.” Al Åbd Al Mustafā had said, “Perhaps Yazīd Malåūn lånat ålayhi himself has come again as Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan now.”
“They call her Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tålā ånahā herself reincarnated.”
“She has learned black magic from Durgesh.” Muħammad Ůsmān had commented.
Al Muħammad had watched them sympathetically.
The morons didn’t even know there isn’t any black magic anywhere.
Allah, how superstitious his Ummat-e-Muslimah is.
No doubt the utmost smart, utmost cunning, young Musalmān lady, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her Young lady Musalmān Brigade is successfully cuckolding these damn fools to their Musalmān womankind and Durgesh.
Yazīd Malåūn had carefully watched the Musalmīn never get proper education.
Al Muħammad and dozens of the other members of Al Fataħ Al Islam smuggled themselves into the compounds of refugees without the knowledge of the forces of Modern Democratic Årabia, or so they thought.
They set up the schools, hospitals and Masājid, built sanitation facilities, and organized light industry.
Some of the refugees, however, turned back.
They were hopeless people who cared for normalcy and facilities more than their own dignity self respect and freedom.
Perhaps Durgesh was right.
Perhaps there were really some persons who are immensely under evolved that could be classified as ‘Vixu Jantavah’, ‘worms among the people’.
Despite every effort from Al Fataħ Al Islam the refugees were so afraid of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her Young lady Musalmān Brigade that they refused outright to fight against them and Modern Democratic Årabia.
They still said that the former rule on Saåūdī Årab was worse than Modern Democratic Årabia.*
Was it really?
Al Muħammad couldn’t contradict it truthfully.
If even a few of the Musalmīn preferred even their cuckolding instead of choosing to live in an Islamic country, it was certainly the time to think how Islamic the so called Islamic countries were.
It reported the horrific truth.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her Young lady Musalmān Brigade was absolutely correct.
Most of the present day Musalmīn were not Musalmīn actually.
They were Pseudo Musalmīn.
Their countries were not Islamic countries.
They were Pseudo Musalmīn countries too.
Al Muħammad was horrified for a moment to realize it.
Yet, he knew very well, not to surrender to the truth even if you know it.
The rest of the Pseudo Musalmīn would kill you as they were killing the non Musalmīn.
It wasn’t Islam.
It could never be.
It was really the bloody Årab Imperialism as Anwar Sheikh claimed.
Nevertheless Al Muħammad wasn’t a damn fool to sacrifice his precious life for something called truth.
He wanted to survive.
Who the hell doesn’t?
Al Åbd Al Mustafā and Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr, with the other members of Al Fataħ Al Islam, gave military training to several thousand men and women among the muhājirīn.
They used sticks as rifles and rocks as grenades for the training.
They did it, because it was the only thing they could do.
However, the continuous constant triumphs of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her Young lady Musalmān Brigade on the traditional mujāhidīn, had raised a doubt in their hearts whether Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her Young lady Musalmān Brigade is actually correct?
Is a Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Cunt really a rheostat and a Stavak Uncut Hindu Lund is really an electro bar magnet that cuts lines of forces while penetrating a Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Cunt?
Is Hindu Lund Musalmān Choot Science really true?
Al Muħammad must know better.
Yet, how was it possible Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan won Modern Democratic Årabia only by fucking Durgesh?
If Hindu Lund Musalmān Choot Science isn’t true, how Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her Young lady Musalmān Brigade is never defeated?
How Narendr Modī won India?
There are some questions to be answered.
Musalmīn were always a military power.
They defeated Christians, Jews, and Persians.
But Hindus were never defeated fully.
If the military power was the ultimate power really as the Musalmīn still believed, why Hindus were ever unconquerable?
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her Young lady Musalmān Brigade claim it’s Hindus’ Vajr.
Hindus’ male genial organ that is converted into Vajr when Hindus meditate, offer Stavans.
Allah, who the hell could believe in this utter nonsense?
Even if a Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān woman converts her Musalmān Cunt into a vaginal rheostat, why not a Musalmān penis similarly becomes an electro bar magnet?
Why an Uncut Hindu Penis is needed instead?
It’s utter nonsense.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is an anti-Muslim.
So is her Young lady Musalmān Brigade too.
Al Åbd Al Mustafā was only twenty two years of age.
Yet he was the commander of Al Fataħ Al Islam here.
If the Modern Democratic Årabia government had gotten wind that there were the members of Al Fataħ Al Islam inside the camps they kept quiet about it.
They were still guarding from the outside.
They didn’t have any desire to go into the hate riddled compounds.
“How many people do you want to escape?” Al Åbd Al Mustafā asked.
“Three hundred, more or less.”
Al Åbd Al Mustafā shook his head.
“We have a few tunnels dug but those lead to the sea. As you know the main problem we have is our people themselves don’t want to leave their own homes. They lack jazba-e-hijrat very much.”
“That’s right,” Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr said, “Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her Young lady Musalmān Brigade call us terrorists outright, instead of mujāhidīn. Even our extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān houseladies are with them, not with us. Durgesh never wants to cuckold even us, even if we kill, massacre, the so called innocent persons.”
“Innocent my foot,” Al Muħammad shouted, “They have successfully replaced our pro Sunni pro Wahābī administration with their so called Modern Democratic Årabia administration. Modern Democratic Årabia doesn’t discriminate any more among Sunnis, Shiås, Aħmadīs etc. All the denominations of Islam are living in Modern Democratic Årabia now entirely legally.”
“They are imitating Hindustan.” Al Åbd Al Mustafā laughed ironically, “The Musalmān womankind now don’t have her ideal in Ħuzūr sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam. Her ideal is Durgesh now.”
“They claim we are wrong.” Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr said, “Durgesh himself respects Ħuzūr sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam, Kħulfa-e-Rāshidīn, Saħābah karām razī Allāhu Tålā ånahum ajmaåīn. Durgesh himself is a Muslim. He has a Hindu father and Wahābī Musalmān mother.”
“Then why doesn’t he support us Musalmīn for our Al Jihad fil Islam fī sabīlillah?” Al Muħammad shouted.
“Instead,” Al Åbd Al Mustafā laughed sarcastically, “his Young Musalmān lady Brigade declares Al Jihad fil Durgesh fī sabīlillah.”
“It was not what Durgesh wanted himself.” Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr explained gravely, “Durgesh is against it. It’s one of the Seven Movements of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her Young lady Musalmān Brigade.”
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam