(A Few Words About the Novel)
Since childhood, I read the novels of the late Ishtiaq Ahmad and A. Hameed extensively. Later, when the time came to write, I became fond of Ishtiaq Ahmad's writing style and the simplicity of his prose, and so I began writing in that very manner. I had no intention of writing Adhoora Khel, but I could not refuse Ibn-e-Aas, and thus this novel was completed in just seven days. It was originally written featuring the late Ishtiaq Ahmad's world-renowned characters: Mehmood, Farooq, Farzana, and Inspector Jamshed. Due to reading and typesetting many of Ishtiaq Ahmad's novels and special editions, his writing style was deeply imprinted on my mind. Although many years had passed since my detachment from his novels, according to Ibn-e-Aas, I succeeded in writing a novel on Inspector Jamshed.
Some people did not like this move of mine, while many praised it greatly and advised me to continue writing on these characters in the future. Since I was not mentally inclined to write on these characters, I wrote highlights of the second novel Jaani, but did not write the novel itself. Friends insisted a lot, saying, "Brother, write down Jaani," but my heart was simply not in it. In fact, Ibn-e-Aas had even suggested the title for this novel—it was Farzana Ka Ighwa (The Abduction of Farzana)—but I later changed the name and finalized Adhoora Khel.
This novel was published by Writers Publications Lahore (my own publishing house). People appreciated it greatly, but disliked the fact that I changed the character names. Well! Inspector Jamshed became Inspector Junaid, Mehmood was changed to Hamood, Farooq and his antics were left entirely untouched, and Farzana became Farhana... the rest of the characters were retained as they were from Ishtiaq Ahmad's Jamshed Series.
The first installment of this novel is being presented here, meaning the first chapter. I am not introducing the characters because who could ever forget the Inspector Jamshed Series! Anyway! Now read the novel as well as my opening remarks. I will look forward to your feedback, good or bad. Please use the digital opinions section for this! Thank you.
OOO
A Word from Me
Assalam-o-Alaikum!
Years ago, when I was very little... Oh! Oh! Why did you start smiling and making funny faces right after reading the very first sentence? I know why you did that... You are thinking that years ago, everyone was little. When everyone was small back then, what was the need for me to write this sentence? Any other sentence could have been written instead. You are right; I truly should not have written that. Now the question is, what should I have written? To be honest, I could not figure out where and with which sentence to begin, so whatever came to mind immediately, I just wrote down. Please do not mind, and let me finish my point.
Yes, so years ago, when I was very little—so little that I studied in the senior primary classes—I found out that a friend's father wrote novels. One day, I took a novel from him and read it. I enjoyed it so much, so very much, that to this day I am still savoring that delight, and it is the result of that very enjoyment that you are sitting down to read this novel today. I have tried to infuse it with the same charm that has been the signature of Baba Ji. If you do not find that charm anywhere, the fault lies entirely and one hundred percent with this worthless writer. Please forgive me, considering me merely a humble reader of Baba Ji—forgiving is a very noble virtue. And everyone ought to practice noble virtues and good deeds, right?
The plain and honest truth about Adhoora Khel is that Ibn-e-Aas made me write it almost by force. How? It would be fun only if he narrates that himself... For me, the real joy lies in the publication of this novel. Written on Inspector Jamshed, this novel is before you under the name of Inspector Junaid. Some characters' names have been altered, while some poor souls have been presented to you just as they were. Please treat them well. As the saying goes, "As you sow, so shall you reap," so friends, do leave positive reviews on this novel... and if your mood gets spoiled, you can leave negative reviews too. You have complete freedom when it comes to reviewing; you can do it—er... I mean, give it—whenever and however you like.
Dear readers! I feel somewhat nervous and a little shy presenting this novel before you... because where stands Ishtiaq Ahmad, and where stands this tiny bird (paddi)... Now please do not exclaim, "What is the worth of such a tiny bird and its broth?" Yes indeed! I consider myself that tiny bird and this novel its broth. I fear and worry: what if you fail to digest this bird and its broth? Before your intentions turn dangerous, I will take your leave, with the confidence that you will read this novel and share your feedback. In the light of your reviews, the next novel of the Inspector Junaid Series will be written... At the end of this novel, you can view its highlights. Those are merely highlights; the novel is yet to be written. Thank you very much!
Wassalam,
Abdul Rasheed Farooqi
Chapter 1
How Are You?
"I can say one thing with certainty," Hamood said.
"And I can say more than one thing," Farooq smiled.
"I can say countless things with certainty," Farhana laughed.
"Fine, but you could have said this sentence without laughing too. You wasted a laugh for no reason," Farooq made a face.
"My laughter was wasted, so why did you make a face—and that too an ugly face, rather a very ugly one?" Farhana retorted.
"What is not good...?" Begum Junaid asked absentmindedly.
"Making faces..." she smiled.
"Oh, goodness me..." she made a face even worse than Farooq's.
"Ammi Jan! That catchphrase belongs to me... Why did you say it?" Hamood turned toward her.
"It isn't written anywhere on this phrase that it belongs to Hamood... that no one else can speak it," she replied.
"Wah... Ammi Jan, wah... That is what you call... a snappy comeback," Farooq smiled.
"No, sir... That is not called a snappy comeback... It is called a crushing reply... You don't even know that much... This is too much..." Farhana said quickly, making Begum Junaid smile.
"I can say one thing with certainty, and I am not joking... I am dead serious," Hamood said with a bit of emphasis.
"I had said I can say more than one thing, and I am serious too."
"I can say countless things with certainty. That is what I had said... I am also extremely serious," Farhana spoke.
"If all three of you are serious, then who is the non-serious one here?" Begum Junaid made a face.
"You... Ammi Jan!" Hamood smiled.
"Me... How so?" Her eyes widened.
"I am hungry, and you are not serving food on the dining mat at all... In this matter, you are non-serious today... That is my claim," Hamood made a face.
"This is called: digging up a mountain only to catch a mouse..." Farooq remarked, making a face even worse than Hamood's.
"Your claim is correct... I am indeed not serious about serving food," she smiled.
"And why are you not serious...?"
"Because I am worried." Suddenly, worry became visible on her face.
"Oh... and why are you worried?" Farhana was startled. Farooq looked toward her as well.
"Your father hasn't returned home yet... whereas he should have rung the doorbell five minutes ago."
All three looked at their wrists... and then their hearts sank.
"Oh... wow... really..." They began looking at one another's faces. Then, involuntarily, they dashed toward the front door. Hamood had barely extended his hand to unbolt the latch when the bell rang... They looked at each other in astonishment... because the manner of ringing the bell was not Inspector Junaid's...
"I... I... smell danger..." Farooq practically announced in a hushed voice.
"I... I... smell danger too," Hamood trembled.
"B-b-but why are you copying me...?" Farooq looked at him.
"Hamood! One shouldn't copy anyone," Farhana smiled.
"I wasn't copying him down, I was copying him up," Hamood said with a grin.
"The bell has rung and you are chattering about irrelevant things... Does this make any sense?" Begum Junaid's exasperated voice reached their ears. Hamood's paused hand was just about to reach for the latch again when Farhana spoke up:
"Farooq is right... I sense danger too..."
"Then what should we do now...?"
Right then, the bell rang once more. They shuddered.
"It is certain... The manner of ringing the bell is not Father's..."
"That means... on the other side of the door, it isn't him, but someone else."
"That someone else could be our enemy as well..." Hamood said. Then, startled, he added, "A scheme has crossed my mind."
"But that is not your job... it's Farhana's."
"Which job...?"
"The job of coming up with schemes..." Farooq smiled.
"This is the limit..." Farhana made a face.
"You thought right... Go on..."
Hamood glared at Farooq with piercing eyes and sprinted toward the staircase.
Right at that moment, the bell rang once more. This time, the manner of ringing was different from before.
"Oh... This manner of ringing the bell is different from the previous one," Farhana said.
"Yes... That means... outside there isn't just one... there are two men. Oh boy... We are doomed then..." Farooq trembled.
"Farooq! Try being serious for once..." Farhana glared at him.
"It's difficult..."
"What is difficult...?"
"Being serious... what else." Farooq smiled.
"Now you are forgetting something again," Begum Junaid said, having walked up close to them.
"Is today an official day of forgetting, Ammi Jan...?"
"How should I know... whether it is or not," she smiled.
"Oh... I understand..." Farhana realized. Then, using the mobile watch on her wrist, she began dialing Inspector Junaid's number. These skin-like modern watches had been gifted to them by Professor Dawood. At first glance, the watch wasn't even noticeable. To see it, one had to inspect the wrist carefully. These mobile wristwatches had instantly resolved many of their difficulties.
Then, before Inspector Junaid could answer the call... a faint beeping sound began coming from the mobile watch. It was a very soft sound, audible only if one paid close attention. Farhana swiped across the watch, and Hamood's voice became audible. He was speaking very quietly:
"Farhana! Open the door... Father is indeed outside... but there is a man with him too. His complexion is pitch black."
"W-w-what are you saying... Father is outside, where are you?"
"I am on Begum Shirazi's rooftop... Everything is clearly visible from here... It really is Father."
"B-b-but the manner of ringing the bell wasn't his... and yes! The bell has been rung in two different ways so far... I am feeling very confused," Farhana said.
"Why don't you go down... verify properly and tell us... We don't want to get trapped in trouble. You know, nobody comes to help in times of trouble," Farooq went on. Farhana and Begum Junaid glared fiercely at him... as if to say, that last sentence was totally useless.
"I cannot go down into the street..." There was helplessness in his tone.
"Why... doesn't Begum Shirazi's house have a staircase...?"
"There is a staircase..."
"Then what...?"
"The staircase door has probably been locked from the other side."
"Oh... but why... Why is it locked? Locks are put on at night, and right now there is no sign of night anywhere..." Farooq continued rambling.
They were puzzled... They had crossed over via their rooftop through Begum Shirazi's rooftop down into the street many times before.
"Because she is not at home... She has probably gone to visit some relative... We know... she often visits them," Hamood's voice came through. At that moment, the bell was rung again, and simultaneously someone began pounding heavily on the door. Their hearts skipped a beat. No matter what the urgency... their father never banged on the door like that. And then, a realization struck them, making them shudder:
"Th-this means... outside, disguised as Father, is an enemy."
"Oh... oh..." slipped out of Begum Junaid's mouth.
"Now... what do we do now, Ammi Jan?" Farhana turned to her.
"Can you hear us, Hamood...?" Begum Junaid asked.
"Yes, I can hear everything... and see as well..." his trembling voice came through.
"You can hear, but you cannot see... because this is not a video call."
"You misunderstood... I am not talking about you... I am talking about the people outside."
"The people outside... Oh... th-this is..." Farooq began to say in a lost tone.
"Farooq! Don't you dare say now... this could be the title of some novel. The situation is not good..." Farhana said, and Farooq quickly clamped his lips shut.
"Hamood! What are you seeing outside... tell us quickly."
"Oh... Good grief..." his voice was trembling.
"Before saying anything, listen: you are Hamood, not Farooq... so do not steal his lines... You must know this already... stealing is not a good thing, and..."
"Farooq! Can't you stay quiet for a moment?" Begum Junaid said angrily.
"Yes, I can... Here you go, I am quiet... Any other command...?" he said hurriedly.
"Crazy guy... Is this what you call being quiet? This is how silence looks..." Farhana made a face.
"Then how does it look? Tell me today, my dear sister..."
"Farooq..." Begum Junaid said sharply.
"Yes, Ammi Jan... At your service... Command me..."
"Not a word now... There is an enemy outside, and heaven knows where your father might be."
"Yes, Hamood... What are you seeing outside...?"
"That Father... is no longer Father..."
"Father is no longer Father... What do you mean...?!"
"Meaning, it was someone else disguised as Father," Hamood said.
"How can you say that...?"
The door was now being banged on even harder.
"Because he has taken off his disguise. It was a thin membrane. Do you know... what appeared from beneath the membrane? A pitch-black face... I-I am feeling scared... Farhana..."
"Feel scared all you want, but brother... please don't scare us..." Farooq said, and then quickly pressed his lips together.
"Farhana... Dial your father's number... My heart is sinking... May Allah have mercy..."
She began dialing Inspector Junaid's number. Right at that moment, a terrifying voice full of rage struck their ears:
"If you have any decency inside, open the door quickly... otherwise..."
"There is no decency inside... otherwise he would have certainly opened the door... and since he isn't inside... the door won't open... It would be very kind of you if you decently return back where you came from," Farooq said loudly, and total silence fell outside.
"Did you get through to your father's number...?" Begum Junaid whispered.
"His number isn't connecting... Not only his, but Uncle Ikram's number isn't connecting either..." Farhana said.
"Oh... oh..."
They looked at one another, as if asking... what do we do now? Outside, there was continuous silence, as though struck dumb.
"Farhana! You are forgetting something..." Farooq smiled.
"I am forgetting something...?" she muttered... then gasped:
"You are right..."
"Then think of a fantastic scheme... a scheme so brilliant that it's a treat!" Farooq grinned.
"A treat... A treat for whom...?"
"For the outsiders... What do we have to do with treats... Oh...!" he jumped mid-sentence.
"Looks like... you thought of a scheme before Farhana..."
"A scheme... No way... I haven't thought of any scheme... Devising schemes is not my job... it is Farhana's job, and she is already thinking..." Farooq rattled off rapidly.
"Then why did you jump...?" Begum Junaid made a face.
"The word 'treat' reminded me of food... When reminded of food, appetite flares up... When appetite flares up, one should eat food. What do you think... Shall we eat first... and deal with the outsiders later? Hey outsiders! You don't have any objection, do you?"
"We have no objection. The objection will arise... when you eat food without us..." a voice laughed from outside.
"W-what do you mean...?!" Farooq exclaimed in shock.
"Meaning, we want to eat food too. Why not eat together today? We've heard that eating together brings blessings to the meal... and Farooq, you know... blessings are a wonderful thing... wherever they go... colors bloom... Now you must know what colors blooming means... right...?" the voice said from outside. Farooq, Farhana, and Begum Junaid were stunned... The speaking style was identical to Farooq's. Farooq was checking himself in disbelief.
"Brother Farooq! Why did you go quiet... Why aren't you answering... and what are you doing right now...?"
"I... I... mean, me...?"
"Y-e-e-s... y-y-you... I-I am asking you, not Farhana... As for Hamood, there is no question of asking him..." the voice said with a chuckle.
"W-why, why is there no question of asking him?" Farooq asked in astonishment.
"Because he is not beside you..."
"Oh... wh-wh-where is he then...?"
"He is watching us from Begum Shirazi's rooftop..."
"Oh... oh..." slipped out of all three mouths simultaneously.
A complete silence descended outside now, as though no one were there.
"Outsiders! Did you leave?" Farooq called out, but no reply came.
They looked at each other in bewilderment... Whoever was outside knew everything about them... The very thought made their hearts sink... Right at that moment, the sound of someone running inside the house reached their ears... They turned around to look and were struck with sheer shock... Their breath caught in their throats... and alongside came a voice:
"How are you, friends..."
(The next installment of this novel will be published tomorrow)
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