Her Ammī said on the mobile,
“I don’t care how you do it, just try and find out.”
She had phoned saying she had a delicate matter to discuss, and wanted a favor.
This was the favor:
She was concerned that her little brother, Al Nādir Al Aurangzeb, might be gay, or at least unsure of his sexuality.
She had been concerned at some of the friends he was starting to hang around with, some of the clothes he had started to wear, and some of the things he had started to say.
She was wondering, since Al Nādir Al Aurangzeb and Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm used to be close – well certainly the closest of her five offspring – whether Al Nādir Al Aurangzeb could come and stay with Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm and her Hindu husband, Durgesh, during the February school break.
Just for a week, during which Time Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm could perhaps have a chat and find out what was going on in his head.
“Talk, or whatever. Whatever you need to do. However, you do it.”
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm agreed, against her better judgment.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm was twenty eight years old.
Married to me, sixty five, for four years, despite the tremendous opposition of her entire family.
Lived about ten miles from her parents and Al Nādir Al Aurangzeb.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm had three older sisters.
Al Nādir Al Aurangzeb was the youngest, and was ten years her junior.
He was the surprise, the unexpected child.
They were not sure her parents planned to have anymore after Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm.
Anyway, as Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm and her siblings were nearest in age Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm and her siblings got on well as kids.
While her sisters were out partying and meeting Hindu boys, Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm and her siblings learned how to change nappies and bath babies.
Again Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm and her siblings lost interest by the Time Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm was fourteen.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm and her siblings worked part Time.
I worked full Time for sexual social services.
Everyone insisted persistently I shouldn’t ever change it, including the learned, highly educated and absolutely unbiased humanist Musalmīn even that actually wanted to cure Ummat-e-Muslimah from sexual and other abuses as Ħuzūr sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam himself did.
They argued none else was as capable and as unbiased in this matter, as I was.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm and her siblings liked her job.
Her co-workers were fun and Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm had to admit to enjoying looking at some of the fit young female students.
I was her one and only, in every sense.
She never enjoyed even looking anyone else!*
Al Nādir Al Aurangzeb arrived on Sunday afternoon.
She last saw him at Eīdul Fitr, he seemed well.
They used to be close but Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm didn’t know him that well.
They didn’t talk much and usually when they did, it was at family gathering.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm didn’t get the chance to really talk to him.
He always seemed a bit quiet, pre occupied.
A bit of a peripheral figure.
He settled in, they showed him his room.
He quietly found an armchair to make his base for the week.
He read a lot – something Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm didn’t know.
Sunday passed uneventfully, as did Monday.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm and I go to work.
Al Nādir Al Aurangzeb just hung around at home.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm come back from work about 2pm, and we just watched TV, or read.
I told all this was quite funny.
When Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm told me, straddling and fucking me, her Ammī’s request, I just raised my eyebrows.
“That’s your Ammī all over,” I said gravely.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm raised her eyebrows, but I didn’t extend what I already had said of her still extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī ardent Musalmān Ammī.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm doubted her still extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī ardent Musalmān Ammī was too having a wild animal extramarital affair with me, as most of her beautiful Musalmān lady friends did.
Yet, Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm never liked they never needed it.
It was only their ever irresponsible sexual adventure that they wanted to keep enjoying.
On Monday night, we went to bed, leaving Al Nādir Al Aurangzeb downstairs watching TV.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm awoke about two hours later, just hearing the TV still on.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm got up and crept downstairs.
The TV was on, football showing, but Al Nādir Al Aurangzeb was asleep on the sofa.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm switched off the TV, shook him awake and led him to his bedroom.
This part of our immensely large house was compact, box shaped, two bedrooms and a small garden.
Downstairs you come in the front door, immediately left is a toilet. Through the small hall to an open plan kitchen, diner, living room and then French windows leading to the garden.
From the hall is a winding staircase up to the landing.
A bathroom, a store cupboard and the two bedrooms.
Tuesday followed a similar pattern to Monday.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm got home about 2 pm.
Al Nādir Al Aurangzeb was out, leaving a note saying he had gone for a walk to explore the neighborhood.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm was quite pleased that he wasn’t just sitting around all day, but making the effort to get out.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm decided she must take him out for lunch one day.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm didn’t start work till noon on Wednesday or Friday, and was off on Thursday.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm went upstairs to her bedroom.
She removed her work uniform and went to have a shower.
Just as Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm came out the shower, the doorbell rang.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm and her siblings wrapped a towel around herself and went downstairs.
It was Al Nādir Al Aurangzeb.
“Sorry Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm, I forgot her key,” he said.
“Don’t worry,” Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm smiled. “It’s all right.”
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm went back upstairs to dress.
When I came in we had dinner, then I asked Al Nādir Al Aurangzeb if he would like to come along to the pool club with me.
Great idea Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm thought.
It would be good for them to bond a bit.
Maybe I could get some damn clue to save Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm having to solve her Ammī’s ‘problem’.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm had to admit Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm had almost forgotten the reason Al Nādir Al Aurangzeb was there.
Even though he was still quiet, Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm and I were enjoying him being here.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm couldn’t explain it but Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm thought he was enjoying it too.
Ammī could be quite domineering at Times.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm just couldn’t see how Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm and I were going to tackle THE subject.
That night in bed, Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm asked me if I had approached her Ammī’s topic.
“No,” I said abruptly. ” Poor lad, just needs to be left alone I reckon.”
“I do agree, but……”.
“I know I know, your Ammī won’t let it rest.”
“What are you gonna do then?” Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm asked me.
“Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm, I don’t know.”
“You could ask him outright.”
‘I’m not sure, that will probably piss him off.”
“What then? We both fuck around in front of him and see his reaction to it.” I teased Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm.
She didn’t get my point.
“Yeah right.” Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm beamed, “Why didn’t you go into his room naked one night and see if it gets him greedy for your Uncut Hindu Lund ?”
I looked at her,
“Nonsense, I don’t want to fuck any Musalmān in his ass. I’m not Shankar Mahāpralayankar, neither Rājesh Rājpūt. I never lack beautiful Musalmān houseladies and Musalmān Beauties to satisfy myself sexually.”
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm smiled at me, teasing me,
“Shankar Mahāpralayankar says even a Musalmān’s ass works as an anal rheostat when a Stavak Shaktimān Uncut Hindu Lund penetrates it.”*
Al Åābidah Al Sultān didn’t know why she did it.
She guessed she just wasn’t thinking.
She did it unknowingly.
It was either her increased Bhogchakr to her ultimate status, an Ummil åālmīn, or my increased Bhogyantrānk that provided her immense Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān beauty to let me enjoy her sexually.
I didn’t want to, if it were the second case.
Her husband was one of my Musalmān stepsons and I wanted to keep my Musalmān stepsons’ faith in me too.
Indian National Congress and the other pseudo secular anti Hindus were tremendously defeated in the recent Loksabhā Elections in 2014.
The Time Cycle of Midterm 2012 had resulted ultimately into complete destruction of the anti Hindus and pseudo seculars.
Even the Pseudo Musalmīn were returning to their pre 1857 attitude.
Perhaps even to more.
1857 didn’t have absolute Hindu leadership.
Now, it was too there.
I wanted the return of the faith of even Pseudo Musalmīn in Hindu leadership forever.
The British rule after 1857 had tried to destroy it their best.
It even succeeded even in dividing India and keeping Pakistan against India deliberately, determinedly and adamantly.
Previous Indian National Congress government of India stupidly let it happen.
Now an NDA, a BJP government actually, with complete majority, had come into power.
The Hindus must show their real big heartedness to not only to Musalmīn but to every minority even.
It would prove their unique competence to lead and make the world better constantly nonstop forever.
It was an opportunity for Hindus to prove the anti Hindu pseudo seculars wrong forever.
HVSI had brought it laboriously gradually eventually ultimately in two years approximately.
Now it was the time to act intellectually.
Hindus could retain their victory by acting intellectually winning the confidence and faith of the minorities forever and prove the anti Hindu pseudo seculars wrong forever.*
Farīdah Imām and I were looking into one another’s eyes very passionately.
Her beautiful nude Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān legs were around my nude Hindu male waist.
I was playing with her gorgeous ardent Musalmān buttocks.
“We can do now more than we did when Hindutv was not in power in India.” Farīdah Imām smiled.
“Let’s Narendr Modi start with Nawaz Sharif, Åbdullah Yāmīn, Ħāmid Karzaī etcetera affably. The region should come under peace once more.”
Al Farīdah Al Imām squeezed her vaginal muscles around my Uncut Hindu Lund.
“Don’t you think the Pseudo Musalmīn terrorists can try to destroy the glamour of the occasion?”
I felt the immense sexual bliss around my penis.
Al Farīdah Al Imām was expert in pleasuring me now tremendously.
Why couldn’t she?
She never married Nazīr Aħmad for him or herself even.
Moreover, she had expressed to everyone that actually she loved me, not Nazīr Aħmad extremely boldly.
If they didn’t like it, they should have objected at the very time when Al Farīdah Al Imām managed to sit on my lap openly for more than fifteen minutes even.
Yet, Saåīdah Anwar, Rashīd Aħmad, Nazīr Aħmad, no one objected then.*
We started with a run on our two treadmills.
Al Maimūnah Al kħālid’s industrial-strength sports bra didn’t completely restrain the bounce of her D-cup ardent Musalmān boobs.
She I loved me to watch them.
It was infuriating to her that I didn’t seem to notice.
Al Maimūnah Al kħālid’s big ardent Musalmān tits were a present from Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, Al Maimūnah Al kħālid’s husband, for her thirtieth birthday.
She told him she didn’t want to go through her whole life with tiny A-cup boobs, and he was happy to pay for an ardent Musalmān boobs job.
At the time she was also becoming overweight, as thirty-year-old women generally tend to, if she doesn’t care especially.
She joined me in my morning workouts.
She said I was her inspiration.
Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, Al Maimūnah Al kħālid’s husband, laughed on it.
“Okay, but I won’t guarantee you won’t fall in love with Dad. They call him Anant Muslimātchod Hindu.”
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid felt her loyalty to her husband, her shauharparasī and her Īmān, both insulted.
As soon as Narendr Modī assumed office as the new Prime Minister Of India, Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, Al Maimūnah Al kħālid’s husband, had started taunting her more.
No doubt, being thirty, a Jet Musalmān Beauty, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid appreciated Narendr Modī very much.
But she wasn’t alone even in the Musalmān youth.
Four years of workouts sculpted Al Maimūnah Al kħālid into a sleek and strong specimen of feminine perfection with platinum blonde hair.
34D-24-34. 5’6″ tall.
Perky round luscious utmost voluptuous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān butt.
Perky round proud ever erect excellent Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān tits were high and firm, not that there’s anything wrong with that.
She closely resembled Nigār Sultānah, a heroine of yesteryears.
Google her and you’ll get the idea.
After running on the treadmills, we lifted free weights then finished with thirty minutes of yoga.
The yoga was Al Maimūnah Al Khalid’s idea.
I went along with it because it kept me flexible and it’s entertaining to watch her contort herself into all those poses.
When we were done, we cooled down for a few minutes on an old sofa in the basement.
“So, how are classes going?” I asked.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid was a college freshman at age 34.
She didn’t go to college at the normal age because she had her daughter to take care of.
My stepson, Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid’s husband, knocked her up when she was only 16 and he was 20.
Her daughter, Al Jihād fil Islam, was eighteen now and a senior in high school.
Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid’s husband, didn’t mind Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid going to college.
It amused him in fact.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid was kind of a bubble-headed blonde.
Not exactly the academic type.
Neither Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid’s husband, nor I could picture Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid in a college classroom, but she wanted it so we supported her 100%.
She was a great person despite being a bit ditzy.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid inherited money from her wealthy family, but Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid’s husband, was a banker and could afford to support them without dipping into Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid’s funds.
They had a good, prosperous life in Memphis, Tennessee.
Anyway, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid’s face lit up and she replied, “College is great, Durgesh. I’m having so much fun!”
“Good. You’re fitting in?” I asked.
She had been worried about fitting in with the other college freshmen because she was so much older.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid giggled.
“Yep. I told them I’m 22 and they believe me! They think your old Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid is barely older than you are! Not bad, huh?”
I wasn’t really surprised.
She had a young-looking cute face with high cheekbones and dimples, and her body was probably the envy of every girl in her classroom.
“It’s because you keep yourself in great shape,” I complimented her.
“And I have you to thank for that, honey. You’re my inspiration,” she replied and kissed me on the cheek. “I wish your stepson, Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, my husband, would work out with us.”
Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid’s husband, was a little older than Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid, 40, exactly 25 years younger than me.
Yet he was overweight.
He never paid attention to keep himself fittest as we both did.
I never left my Stavans, Mandrs, and Satrs.
Similarly, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid never missed her Panjvaqtah Namāz.
Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd too never missed his Salawāt yet, he wasn’t fit nevertheless.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid teased her husband,
“Salawāt keep us Musalmān womankind fittest. You mankind need something more. Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu tålā ånahā reincarnated says, if Taħannus, Stavan, Meditation, isn’t added, Salawāt actually femalize Musalmīn.”
“Nonsense, damn your Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and yourself too. Allah Allah. And you call her Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu tålā ånahā reincarnated? You are crazy. Lāhaul vilā qūvat.”
As a loan officer at the bank, he spent too much time sitting behind a desk.
“Good luck getting him to exercise,” I said.
Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid’s husband, was a sedentary, inactive, sitting, kind of guy.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid sighed.
“I know, but I worry about his health.”
Then she brightened up and added,
“Speaking of your ever incompetent stepson Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, my ever imperfect husband, a funny thing happened yesterday.”
“What?” I smiled.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid giggled.
“I told Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār that you’re my husband,” she said.
Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār was Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid’s best friend at college.
“What?! Why would you do that?”
“I didn’t mean to. It was an accident,” she replied and giggled again. “Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār knows I’m married, and when she saw your photo on my phone, she assumed that you’re my husband.”
“Why didn’t you correct her?” I asked.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid looked at me as if I was a dunce.
“Your ever incompetent stepson, Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid’s husband, isn’t very believable as the husband of a young college girl, Durgesh!”
That was true.
40-year-old overweight men with receding hairlines rarely are married to college freshmen.
“So you let her think your sixty five years old Hindu father in law is your husband?” I asked incredulously.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid grinned and nodded.
“Isn’t it brilliant? It really helps me fit in. Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār thinks you’re hot, by the way. She thinks you aren’t thirty five even.”
“Is she hot? You could set me up on a date with her,” I kidded.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid frowned.
“You’re supposed to be my husband, Durgesh.”
“Oh yeah,” I chuckled.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid seemed to be annoyed with my joke, but a couple minutes later she hesitantly said,
“Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār invited us to go to spring break with her and her boyfriend Shankar Mahāpralayankar.”
My jaw dropped. “What? You and me? Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid, I can’t go to spring break with you.”
She pouted and whined, “Why not? I really really want to go. I won’t embarrass you, I promise.”
“No, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid. It’s too weird.”
“Please?” she begged. “I never got to do stuff like this when I was your age.”
She left it unspoken that she didn’t do stuff like that because she was taking care of her daughter.
Was it a sin that, she must not get it even now, if she could get it?
I felt the weight of guilt crushing me.
Maybe this wasn’t too much to ask.
Going on a vacation with her wasn’t too weird, was it?
Moreover, it would make her happy.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid deserved to be happy.
“Okay,” I agreed.
I was sure I’d regret it otherwise.
I never wanted to regret ever for anything whatsoever if it could be avoided somehow.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid squealed with delight and jumped into my arms.
“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! You’re the ever best father in law, Durgesh!” She kissed me on both cheeks and the tip of my nose.
“Don’t you mean best husband?” I teased.
“Yes. Best spring break Hindu hubby.” She kissed the tip of my nose again.
“Has Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, your husband, agreed to this trip?”
“Not yet. I was hoping you’d help me convince him tonight.”
1. Bahoo Begum
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Muhammad Zahīr hadn’t another alternative.
Until now, it was okay.
Now what the hell could he do?
How the hell could he convince Durgesh to fuck his daughter in law, Nāsirah Ibādat Saiyad?
He remembered his past.
Being three years older than me, Muhammad Zahīr was born in 1946.
Durgesh always teased him that he was born a slave.
“I will fight the election only if I get ticket from BJP.”Nāsirah Ibādat Saiyad said gravely.
Muħammad Aqīl laughed.
“She is crazy, Abbū. She knows she can’t win.”
“BJP isn’t coming into power, Nāsirah Ibādat Saiyad.” Muhammad Zahīr said patiently.
“I am not claiming that BJP would alone come into power.” Nāsirah Ibādat Saiyad smiled, “I am talking of NDA.”
“And what about IAC, India Against Corruption?”*
Muħammad Aqīl smiled.
Nāsirah Ibādat Saiyad was twenty-eight only, yet she had joined Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad recently.
His Ammī, Ħabībah Isrār Qurayshī, was furious.
She never wanted her daughter in law to compete with her in politics.
Ħabībah Isrār Qurayshī had successfully defeated her husband, Muhammad Zahīr, usually.
“You are a damn fool, Muhammad Zahīr.” Ħabībah Isrār Qurayshī used to smile at him, “You could never understand the so called Indian National Congress has always cheated not only us Musalmīn, it has cheated all of us Indians too.”
“I do agree with Ammījān.” Nāsirah Ibādat Saiyad interfered entering there.
Ħabībah Isrār Qurayshī was an ultramodern Musalmān Beauty, a PhD in ‘Modern Musalmān Women’.
Yet, she never supported Nāsirah Ibādat Saiyad’s social and political emancipation.
She wanted her to live in the house at least in the thoroughly orthodox traditional way.
Moreover, Ħabībah Isrār Qurayshī was very strict in the matter.
She never allowed Nāsirah Ibādat Saiyad, her Bahū Begum, her daughter in law, to wear ultramodern dresses in the house.
After all, Ħabībah Isrār Qurayshī was the Lady of the House.
She was a multi millionaire.
Muhammad Zahīr was only a millionaire.
He was actually a retired government official.
Even his million was inherited by him, from his Abbū.*
Nāsirah Ibādat Saiyad’s sex life was more or less satisfactory.
Muhammad Aqīl used to be out of home on business tours and Nāsirah Ibādat Saiyad used to be alone very often.
He was also not so strict and had granted Nāsirah Ibādat Saiyad freedom.
As her mother in law also had sex with Durgesh openly, Nāsirah Ibādat Saiyad could experience some sort of freedom.
There were only Muhammad Aqīl, her daughter, her father in law, Muhammad Zahīr, Ħabībah Isrār Qurayshī, Nāsirah Ibādat Saiyad and I living together.
Her mother in law Ħabībah Isrār Qurayshī was interested in active politics.
As she went away to campaign for her Parliamentary seat in the sudden Midterm 2012, Nāsirah Ibādat Saiyad was the only lady in the house and had no one to comment on her.
Then Nāsirah Ibādat Saiyad brought changes on her especially in her dressing.
Nāsirah Ibādat Saiyad loved wearing saree but not covering all her extremely beautiful young excellent exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān body parts.
Nāsirah Ibādat Saiyad started wearing sexy and transparent sarees that Nāsirah Ibādat Saiyad was forbidden before wearing it.
Nāsirah Ibādat Saiyad bought sexy blouses having strings at back that exposed her backs.
Nāsirah Ibādat Saiyad loved wearing saree below navel.
Nāsirah Ibādat Saiyad had sexy, deep and round navel.
Her belly was flat so her navel and belly looked sexy.
Nāsirah Ibādat Saiyad loved to expose her belly.
Nāsirah Ibādat Saiyad had bouncing proud Musalmān boobs and she had noticed men staring at it.
Yet while going out, Nāsirah Ibādat Saiyad normally wore Shalwār qamīz and simple sarees not that exposing.
While at home, Nāsirah Ibādat Saiyad loved to wear sexy sarees.
As Nāsirah Ibādat Saiyad wanted to make her sex life with Muhammad Aqīl interesting, Nāsirah Ibādat Saiyad tried to attract him towards her.
Nāsirah Ibādat Saiyad wore sarees in sexy manner but he didn’t show much interest.
Muħammad Aqīl was more interested in business than he was interested in sex with his immensely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife.
Consequently, to her extremely pleasant surprise, instead of Muħammad Aqīl, Nāsirah Ibādat Saiyad suddenly found, that I was being attracted towards her.*
Kħālidah Ashraf was pleasantly surprised when she saw Nāsirah Ibādat Saiyad.
“Well, well, well.” Kħālidah Ashraf said, “What a pleasant surprise. I thought you were too angry with me to see me again.”
“Nonsense,” Nāsirah Ibādat Saiyad smiled, “Where’s Wasīm Kħālidah Ashraf?”
Kħālidah Ashraf looked at Nāsirah Ibādat Saiyad.
“As if you really don’t know.” her voice was bitter somewhat, “I have seen you with him.”
“Well, I saw Wasīm Kħālidah Ashraf with Durgesh. I was surprised. Nadīm told me Wasīm Kħālidah Ashraf is not as friendly with him anymore as he was once.”
“You have forgiven Durgesh?” Kħālidah Ashraf watched Nāsirah Ibādat Saiyad scrutinizing her.
“For what he did with my Ammī, Ibādat Saiyad Åbbās? Never. How the hell can I?”*
Kħadījah Muħammad smiled patiently.
“And, exactly what did Durgesh do with your Ammī, Ibādat Saiyad Åbbās? Will you kindly bother to tell me?”
Nāsirah Ibādat Saiyad whirled to Kħālidah Ashraf.
“You never told me, Kħālidah, that Kħadījah Muħammad Ammī is also here?”
Kħadījah Muħammad kept smiling.
“Nāsirah Ibādat Saiyad, Act rationally. Don’t be obsessed with your blind, illogical, irrational and entirely unjustified emotions.”
“Kħadījah Muħammad Ammī, please,” Nāsirah Ibādat Saiyad said suppressing her wrath somewhat; “I don’t want to dishonor you ever in my violent dreams even. I respect you very much.”
“Why?” Kħadījah Muħammad asked still patiently.
She had vowed to herself to be patient in the matter, no matter how unjustified my Musalmān beloveds act.
She knew almost every one of them wanted to revenge me.
I never told them I’d marry every one of them.
How could I?
I was always honest and sincere to them.
I told them honestly I would not marry them since it would be illegal.
I had a mission of my life.
I couldn’t afford to be illegal ever.
Nevertheless, they wanted me then on any cost whatsoever.
Now, they are trying to revenge me for what was their own mistake, their own illogical, irrational, emotional dreams.
Nāsirah Ibādat Saiyad controlled herself.
“What do you mean ‘why’?”
“Why do you respect me?” Kħadījah Muħammad smiled.
“Well,” Nāsirah Ibādat Saiyad tried to maintain her composure, “You love Durgesh unconditionally.”
“Love never imposes any condition, my child.” Kħadījah Muħammad smiled gracefully, “Love isn’t a business. Durgesh never promised me that he would marry me. In fact, Durgesh not even said to me that he loved me.”
“But he let you rape him, didn’t he?”*