Sunday, 28 October 2012

Faith (Short Story)



Faith
                                       (Umar Razi)
Abdur Rehman was driving his rikshaw, he had to drop passengers at The Data Darbar. The passengers whom he had picked up from Shahdra. They were his first passengers of the day. He used to dwell in Shahdra. He was a poor man who drove rikshaw for an earning, he had a wife and seven children. Physically he was thin and skinny, his flesh seemed as if melted towards the inside, wrinkles were everywhere on his face. He was pale, weak and feeble which implied the tyranny he bore of the cruel world and the non favoring circumstances. He suffered from cancer, he knew that he will die some day because of the incurable disease. He was not afraid of death, he was afraid of the aftermath, what would happen to his family. His poor feeble wife did not had the physical and psychological power to manage their little house and children. The bigger of them all problems were that all of their seven children were girls. The eldest girl was of age 24 and the youngest was of age 17, the marriage of all their seven daughters was not a little issue. Abdur Rehman said his prayers regularly, he was a very pious man and he had a strong faith and firm belief in The Almighty Allah. He knew that some miracle would happen and his life would enrich with happiness. The almost impossible dream of his to see his young daughters get married will be fulfilled. Abdur Rehman was regular in his Tahajud Prayer, he CRIED, CRIED and CRIED in front of Allah. Abdur Rehman never did any wrong with someone thus he was very positive that no injustice would be done to him also, in the court of The Almighty. When Abdur Rehman brought fruits to home, once a month, his little daughters had a spark of happiness in their eyes. His wife also welcomed this little happiness with open arms. Sometimes even little moments of happiness can be bigger than anything, it can bring tears in one’s eyes. One who has not seen true happiness in life, for him even little moments of happiness in life are very enjoyable. Abdur Rehman’s wife Rihana used to save money, although he used to get very little money from Abdur Rehman but she still managed to save a little amount from it and add it into her savings. They used to boil potatoes everyday and they ate it with chappatis. After their meal they used to say “ Allhamdulilah “ . They were always happy and thankful to Allah for what they had.
            Abdur Rehman was on his way Data Darbar, the idea was revolving in his mind that what would happen if he dies due to his incurable disease, what would happen to his family, would his daughters get married or not, would he live to see the marriage of his daughters or not?
            While he was in a psychological fight with himself, he lost the control of the rikshaw, the rikshaw got hit by an electic pole and he died at the spot along with the passengers.
            When Abdur Rehman opened his eyes he was in a never seen enchanted place, it was spiritual and magical. Milk was flowing in the rivers, trees of honey were everywhere. Sky was of vanilla color which was beautiful. He was alone at that enchanted place. He was having many questions to himself that where he was and where was his family, had he died? What would his family do without him.
He burst into tears and cursed his fate which did not allowed him to live and to be with his helpless family. He was uttering the words again and again.
Oh Allah ! I never wished bad for someone, then why this has happened to me. Oh Allah please help me, Oh Allah help me please !

While Abdur Rehman was uttering these lines, suddenly an angel appeared in front of him, the angel placed his hand on his shoulder and tried to comfort him. Abdur Rehman wiped his tears and gazed at the tall figure which was standing in front of him, it had a spiritual glow on its face, had big shinny and sparkling eyes, had beautiful big white wings resembling of a falcon’s but it only had the colour difference.
Abdur Rehman was utterly shocked and fell backwards. The angel spoke,
“ Abdur Rehman, you need not to be afraid, you are pious and kind, you have a firm belief in Allah “
Abdur Rehman could merely speak,
“ wh-whh- where am i?”
“ In heavens “ the angel replied
“ I never  imagined this  colossal catastrophe would stoke me this early, what would happen to my family? “ Abdur Rehman said while wiping his tears, he was in complete despair.
“how much do you love your family?” the angel asked
“ My love is beyond limits for my family “ he replied confidentially
“ how strong is your faith in Allah? “ the angel asked another one
“ La Illaha Ilalah Muhammad Ur Rasool Ullah , My Allah knows how strong my faith is, it is stronger than mountains “
The angel nodded his head and said,
“ Allah has ordered me to tell you that, you do not need to worry about anything,  The Almighty himself has took the responsibility of all of your daughters marriages. Your life is prolonged; you will live to see your grandsons and granddaughters.
Abdur Rehman’s eyes opened, he was in his rikshaw which was parked near The Data Darbar, he was waiting for the passengers to return, he fell asleep while he was waiting. His eyes were full of tears and the extreme of his happiness could not be measured by any parameter at that moment. Then the passengers returned to his rikshaw, Abdur Rehman started the rikshaw and went off to the destination happily.

Evil and Virtue (Short Story)



                                          Evil and Virtue
I
 shivered while reading the newspaper; the news was no different than any other day, this time a local bank was looted by some bandits and the culprits who were behind it were impossible to be traced, the police had been tracking them for a long time but unable to find any clue or trace which could lead to them. Those were not some bandits, one of them was my husband: my husband who was the best husband and not to mention, the best father in the world. My husband had no choice, he had to do something to earn for his family. Our family had faced many problems, people are changed due to the circumstances and surroundings, time brings more difficulty, moment after moment, doesn’t matter if it is a good time or a bad time, it always changes. It can shift one’s emotions; it can strip smiles of human beings and replace them with tears in their eyes. I was happy, my family was happy but one day our lives were completely changed abruptly, I never imagined this could happened but one can never be so sure that what is going to happen, because life is so unpredictable. One has to be on his toes every moment. My husband worked in a pipe factory, he did not received a very handsome income but all of us managed to live happily with it, I, my husband Tahir, our little son: who could barely speak and my mother and father in laws. We were living in a small house which consisted of only 2 rooms, it was a small house in the bastee. We were living on rent, the owner of this house was a very mean man, he was not so wealthy but he used to earn satisfactory money by collecting the rent, his late father owned this bastee at some point of time; he was a very nice man but his son was a totally opposite to him; mean and arrogant. He wore a typical punjabi dress which was the shalwar qamiz. Every month he came to the baste and asked for rent. My husband had brought a lot of toys one day, that was the very day when my little Imtiaz was born to me, I was very happy, all my happiness came to a sudden end after some time later when that mean person appeared to collect his rent, unfortunatly we did not had the money to pay our rent because my husband had already spent his money on the new born baby’s toys. The mean man came and started to knock the door really hard and shouted,
“ Come out you rats, pay me my rent “
My husband said that he would go and tell him that we were short of money and we will pay as soon as we get the money. But the mean man was way to much hasty and he demanded the money at the spot, my husband tried his best to convince finally he gave us 3 more days, we had to pay the rent in 3 days which was near to impossible, apart from the household bills, we had to cook meal for everybody, we had to run our house. After those 3 days my husband and I along with our child went out to seek some job to earn money, but we failed eventually. When we returned home we saw that the main door of the house was unusually open, the house was totally messed up. A large shriek blew my mouth open when I entered my mother and father in laws room; it was blood everywhere, the room was terribly disordered and stains of blood had covered everything, the corpses of my mother and father in laws were lying there. I started to shout and cry, my husband stood there for a long time, then he fell on his knees and started to weep on the death of his parents. A piece of paper was forcefully stuck in the mouth of his father, he took it out and it was written on it that, “ If you do not pay the rent soon, same will happen to your wife and son “. My husband was enraged, he took out his axe from beneath the bed which he used to take to the factory, he went to the house of that mean man and killed him, he chopped pieces of him and putted it into a sack and burnt it. Some group of people had noticed his actions, those were not some group of people, now those people had become the companions of her husband in looting and killing people for money. They forcefully made my husband to adopt this path of evil and sin, my husband had no choice he had to do something, at that point of time we seriously needed financial support only after then we could mentally strengthen. I tried to warn my husband not to walk on this evil path, but he refused to listen to me. Even my morality corrupted when I used to get whatever I wanted with so much money. but I had a strong will, I did not wanted my child to bare the evil deeds just like his father was doing, times forces us to do many things, but it is based on our will power that which way we choose, the right way or the wrong way. I loved my son even more than my husband, I wanted to educate my son, I wanted my son to be pious and to always walk on the paths virtue. I always prayed that God may protect my child and to keep him safe from even the shadows of evil.
            Somebody knocked at the door rashly, it was my husband. I opened the door; he came in and gave me a big huge and said,
“ Sweetheart do you know what have I brought for you ? “
“ I do not want anything, I already have everything, you and Imtiaz, I want nothing more, I just want you to leave everything what you are doing “, I replied with an outbreak of emotions
“ Oh please not your moral speeches again, the world is bad and cruel, nice people have no place here, I got my parents killed of beings nice, If you want to fight the devil, you have to become a devil yourself , besides we would not have been able to build this beautiful big house in such a neat location if we had sticked to our moralities “ , He replied angrily
“ Tahir we do not need all this, we are just happy with each other, we do not need anything else, what if you get killed in a police encounter, what would become of me, what would become of your son; who has not even uttered, PAPA yet. All your black money will be nothing more than a pile of dust.
“ Here, I have brought you a new dress, the one you always asked me to buy for you “
I took the dress silently, at that time Imtiaz came crawling to his father, his father picked him up and kissed him on his forehead and started to adore him. I shed to tears the moment I witnessed a miracle, Imtiaz spoke for the first time:
“ Pahh-ppaaa , papaaah dnn behh bad “
I was amazed how a little boy could speak such a phrase for the first time, Tahir and I shed to tears but these tears were of happiness and bliss. Eventually my husband considered that the words which Imtiaz spoke were a message of the Divine. My husband abandoned his path of sin and reformed himself by coming closer to the religion. Now my husband owns a general store and financially; we said good-bye to all our problems. Now I am sure that my son will become a good human being, despite all the sins and evils in the world, he will find ways to glorify the power of virtue and goodness.

The Raven by Edgar Allan Poe




Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
`'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more.'

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
`'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -
This it is, and nothing more,'

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
`Sir,' said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you' - here I opened wide the door; -
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `Lenore!'
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Lenore!'
Merely this and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
`Surely,' said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
'Tis the wind and nothing more!'

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door -
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
`Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, `art sure no craven.
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore -
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door -
Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as `Nevermore.'

But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only,
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered -
Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown before -
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.'
Then the bird said, `Nevermore.'

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
`Doubtless,' said I, `what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore -
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
Of "Never-nevermore."'

But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore -
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking `Nevermore.'

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
`Wretch,' I cried, `thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee
Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! -
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -
On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -
Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting -
`Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore!

Alia Bhatt - The Rising Star





Alia Bhatt is the new rising star of Bollywood, the new beauty and style icon is the daughter of the writer and film director Mahesh bhatt and the half Sister of former actress Pooja Bhatt, She is the niece of Mukesh Bhatt and cousin of the well known actor Emraan Hashmi. She has shook bollywood with her beauty by stepping her foot into bollywood. She is truly beautiful and in such a young age she has achieved a huge amount of fame and fan following. She made her first appearance in Karan Johar’s movie, “ Student of the year “. She did remarkable piece of acting and won hearts all over Asia. She played role of a very modern and high class girl belonging from aristocracy. She developed good chemistry with her co-actors, Varun Dhawan and Siddharth Malhotra. She has a very bright future in the industry, she has done well with the movie and made it a great commercial success, but there is a long way to go and a lot to learn. She will topple all the actresses one day, that is what critics are saying. So best of luck Alia, you are going to rock Bollywood for sure. 

The Life of Christopher Marlowe



Christopher Marlowe was born in 1564, the year of William Shakespeare's birth. His father worked in Canterbury, England, as a cobbler, and Christopher was one of many children to be born into their middle-class household (Bakeless 3-30.) After attending the King's School on a scholarship, he won another scholarship to attend Corpus Christi College, Cambridge. Marlowe completed his BA degree in four years and then stayed on at Cambridge to work towards an MA. Students who did so were granted an extended scholarship-and were expected to take Holy Orders.
During the following three years, Marlowe began to absent himself from the college for weeks on end. Although such absences were not uncommon among BA students, Marlowe's spotty attendance seems to have earned the ire of the college administration. Rumors arose that Marlowe planned to defect to the Catholic seminary of Rheims, France. Amidst such rumors, it became a matter of the Queen's Council that Marlowe should receive his degree at graduation--the Privy Council conveyed to the college that Marlowe had been in government service all along. The evidence suggests that he had been serving England as a spy in Rheims.
When Marlowe left Cambridge in 1587, it was to write for the stage. Before the end of the year, both parts of his Tamburlaine were produced in London. The plays basked in a decidedly popular and vernacular spirit. Renaissance scholar David Riggs notes that the chaotic stage of Tamburlaine, featuring a blasphemer and murderer protagonist, "challenged the limits of public behavior" (220). In any case, Marlowe's debut earned him an excellent standing among contemporary playwrights. His plays, of a quality astonishing for a man in his twenties, constantly produced crowd-pleasing spectacles. In the following six years before his early death, Marlowe continued to achieve success through such works as Doctor Faustus, The Jew of Malta, and The Massacre at Paris.
The last part of Marlowe's life was violent and contains some suspicious coincidences. While living near London in 1592, a year before his death, scholar Lisa Hopkins reports that Marlowe appeared so threatening and was thought so dangerous by two constables of the town of Shoreditch (the suburb in which Marlowe lived and where the theatres for which he wrote were located) that they formally appealed for protection from him. As many researchers of Marlowe's life have noted, it is puzzling what a person must do in order to make the police afraid of him. In September of that same year Marlowe was involved in a fight in his native Canterbury, attacking Williame Corkine with a sword and dagger. This year, too, was the one in which Marlowe's good friend Thomas Watson died. There is the possibility that during this time Marlowe had a relationship with Thomas Walsingham, nephew of the Sir Thomas Walsingham who was the head of the spies in Queen Elizabeth's service. However, the relationship is by no means proved. It is a matter of record, however, that Marlowe was staying at Walsingham's country house in Scadbury at the time he was killed.
The circumstances of Marlowe's death provide much for speculation. On May 30, 1593, when Marlowe was only twenty-nine, he was feasting in a rented private room in a Deptford house (the home of Dame Eleanor Bull, not a tavern as is often recounted) with a group of four men. He reportedly quarreled with Ingram Friser (the personal servant of Sir Thomas Walsingham), who killed Marlowe on the spot by stabbing him above the right eye. Friser claimed self-defense and was pardoned shortly thereafter, despite the mysterious circumstances. David Riggs points out that the Queen herself had ordered Marlowe's death four days before (334). Was the Friser incident merely a coincidence? And how had Marlowe earned the anger of the Queen?
Two days after Marlowe's death, a man named Richard Baines sent a document to the police accusing Marlowe of blasphemy and homosexuality. Among other things, the document recounts Marlowe's barely concealed atheism, his public denouncement of faith, and his sacrilegious speech against Jesus himself. The document also notes that Marlowe was not content merely to keep these opinions to himself; at every opportunity, he supposedly tried to win men over to his views. His allegedly heretical views were in fact already known to the government. When the famous playwright Thomas Kyd-Marlowe's former roommate-was arrested in possession of blasphemous papers, Kyd confessed that he had received the documents from Marlowe. Seen in this light, the Queen's order and Marlowe's consequent death seem to be of a piece. Harold Bloom is convinced that Marlowe was "eliminated with maximum prejudice by Walsingham's Elizabethan Secret Service" (10.)
If these events are linked, the details remain obscure. Allegations abound. Men reported that Marlowe was cruel, violent, homosexual, and foul-mouthed, cursing all the way to his last breath. Although these reports cannot be discounted easily, little conclusive evidence supports any of these allegations. As J. B. Steane puts it, "as for Marlowe the man, atheist and rebel or not, we have to acknowledge that there is no single piece of evidence that is not hearsay-only that there is a good deal of it, that it is reasonably consistent, and that on the other side there is no single fact or piece of hearsay known to us" (16). Who was Marlowe, really?
Further complicating our picture of Marlowe is the relationship between author and work. Marlowe's works have been interpreted as atheistic and blasphemous; they also have been understood as traditional and Christian. The two sides stand apart in their proximity to any picture of Marlowe's personal life. To be sure, an author does not necessarily (if ever) write through autobiography or self-expression, or to communicate an ideological position. Yet, it is significant that the young poet, dead before his thirties, is a man who studied to take Holy Orders, who likely served his country in espionage missions, and who died violently under the taint of scandal. Such a colorful and ambiguous character cannot help but loom behind Marlowe's work. Where biography has relevance for literary interpretation, readers can profit from meeting the challenge of seeing Marlowe's plays from the perspective of his life; at the same time, one should remember that his works were intended for English audiences who did not know as much about his life.