Nights that followed
Sayed Ahmad Sadat
I was waiting behind the door. There were voices of laughing and clapping that I heard from behind the door.
The door knocked twice. It was the signal of inviting me inside the room. Someone tried it again and then knocked a third time.
I entered the room where there were many people sitting on the mattress. They were watching me up and down from my head tomy toes.
I sat near a man. A big man who had white cap, long beard and belly stomach was sitting to my left side.
Few minutes passed and I was fighting in my own mind; what was going on there? Why are we gathered there? Why were they clapping before I entered?
Actually, everything looked wrong. Therefore, I was losing myself moment by moment.
Suddenly a little boy entered. He was smiling and looked as if he was happy.
He was a young and short boy. He wore a black waistcoat and white cap which was the custom among students inside the Madrassa where there I sat a new one of Islamic issue’s followers.
The boy didn’t sit. The man who was sitting on my left side tried to tell him something. “What you are looking for? We have new one. Show him till he learns,” he said.
“Nothing, okay,” the boy replied.
“Ha, MashaAllah, go ahead,” he ordered.
It was the time I became completely depressed because I saw the unbelievable thing. Actually, a boy was sacrificed for learning Islamic religious points.
When the fat man ordered him to show something the boy demonstrated what he was able to show.
He held up his right hand and the left one was on his belt. He turned himself around, slowly and slowly. I was watching him. He was trying to keep quaking his head as he was dancing. While turning around himself he often quaked his ass on left and right. Everyone was happy, even my guider, too. Maybe they were enjoying the young boy’s dance.
I was unhopeful of what I watched. Indeed, it caused me to see the black face of Madrassa. In fact, Madrassa became a dark place as it was controlling children and teenager boys’ minds.
Madrassa is the holy and good place where we intend to learn about religions, Islam and realities of our society.
Unfortunately, it was the only time I found the real face of Madrassa and the people who were looking on seemed as animals. Madrassa looked cowshed.
Madrassa became prison to me same like a route without borders which is not joyful.
I was watching him. Few minutes passed. I felt a hand on my leg. It shocked me and when I looked I saw it belonged to the fat man. He shared a smile to me. I pushed away his hand.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Nothing, watch him,” he replied.
“Why should I do that?” I asked.
“Don’t worry, you will learn,” he answered.
“What! Why should I learn?” I asked.
“Then you will know,” he replied.
He was talking happily but I couldn’t realize him because my mind wasn’t there.
Although I too, was younger, I understood nothing looked well. Something was wrong there.
He held my hand and that woke up my mind. Actually, he took me back in the hall where a boy was dancing.
“Hey boy, you fancy that dance?” he asked.
“No, it’s not so. Can I ask something,” I asked.
“Yes, please,” he replied.
“Why he is dancing?” I asked.
He started laughing when he heard my question.
“What’s funny?” I asked.
“Nothing, I like that,” he replied, “actually, then you will know.”
Party finished. We went to our dormitory where we five students rest. I couldn’t sleep the whole of that night. Indeed, I faced too many queries and those were pushing me to find their responses.
I talked to myself and asked, Why should we dance here? Why are they allowed to abuse boys? Maybe they force the boys or shall they use everyone day by day! Why haven’t they any fear of God? Why and why…?
Everyone was asleep but I lay awake and whatever the fat man had told was annoying me from inside. In fact, it destroyed my dream. The dream of becoming a Mullah.
I was talking to myself. I don’t want to dance. I want to be a Mullah in the mosque. At least everything would be free for me from people’s side of area where I would be responsible for their children and praying.
Whenever someone becomes a Mullah in any area’s mosque then people of the area are responsible for his daily and night’s food. They have to pay salary and send him breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Therefore, it is the desire of each student to be a Mullah. So, they gathered for that purpose.
Night passed and I haven’t begun a good day. Due to schedule it was the day that we should wash guider’s cloths. Therefore, my roommates started washing cloths and I helped them, too. We worked through the whole day. We have cleaned dishes, hall and where we pray there. We were busy the whole day.
We became completely tired after work. My roommates went to the room but I was in the yard. Jamshid brought a glass of tea but he left me back.
The day closed her eyes and night was waking up to cover whole the universe where we lived.
There was voice of frogs. Maybe they were singing or they were explaining loudly whatever they saw.
Maybe frogs were witnessing the realities from inside of Madrassa or they tried to reflect pain, and cruelty that students were suffering there.
I drank my tea and went through to our room. We gathered to have our dinner. We were eating but only Jamshid was ironing the cloth as he wasn’t hungry. Therefore, he wanted to finish his work which was ironing after we finished washing. We were laughing and joking. The door knocked and knocked again, hardly. Someone appeared.
“Can’t you hear knocking? He asked angrily.
We did not reply to him any word. He took the hand of Mansur and led him out of the room without to say anything about what would happen.
“Why? Where’s he taking him?” I asked.
“He takes him every night,” Subhan replied.
“But, where?” I asked.
“I swear to God, I don’t know,” he replied.
I hurried out but they weren’t there in the hall. I went through to the stairs. They were going down for first floor. I followed them.
He took Mansur through to the yard of Madrassa where there was full of trees. I stood up behind a big tree and saw that Mullah Naqib came. The waiter left there. Mullah Naqib and Mansur stood up in front of each other. It looked like they were talking.
Mullah Naqib took Mansur’s hand and led him behind the grapes tree where there was a place for enjoying whenever sun shines or covers everywhere.
I wasn’t able to watch them. Therefore, I went closer and when I arrived behind the tree I heard a voice. It looked like someone swallowed something. I went a step more near them. The voices became more and I heard breath’s voices of Mullah and Mansur.
I couldn’t wait and I lost my patience. So, I tried to see what was going on. Both appeared in front of my eyes when I attempted to watch them.
Mullah put his left hand behind of Mansur’s neck and was pushing and pulling Mansur’s head towards himself.
Mansur wrapped his hands around Mullah Naqib’s legs. He was sucking Mullah’s penis and Mullah Naqib was pulling and pushing his head on his penis.
It was the time when I completely changed because my hopes disappeared. They may have escaped of my heart. Actually, my desires became broken inside my heart because they didn’t become real. My desire stayed just a desire.
Fear came through in my heart and I was losing myself slowly and slowly.
Today he abused my guide. So, would I be the next one tomorrow or maybe the day after tomorrow? I was thinking to myself.
Immediately, I decided to escape of there. Therefore, I tried to run away from above the wall of the Madrassa which had barbed wire. The door was locked when I was trying to climb on the wall, the guard saw me. He shouted at me but I pretended not to hearhim. I kept running towards the wall. When I climbed on the wall I couldn’t control myself. So, I fell down to the outside of Madrassa but my hand had broken.
Early morning, my father came and saw me with a broken hand. He took me home and asked me about whatever happened. When I told him everything clearly then he slapped me once and dropped me inside the basement. I was there for a week.
I wasn’t regretful of what I did and of being in the basement but the thing that annoyed me was the future of those boys underage in Madrassa. Was it a concern that will affect their future? Actually, I was thinking, what if they be free or what if no one else be abused? What if no one else suffers their cruelty?
A week passed. The door pushed opened. Grandma appeared. She brought a glass of milk and bread. She loved me too much as I was the youngest and only boy of my family. She sat near to me until I finished the breakfast. She helped me to change my cloth.
After changing, I went through to a nearest police station. When I arrived there I met an old man. He looked very kind because he started talking very kindly.
“Salam (Hello),” I said.
“Thank you, how are you?” he asked.
“I’m fine, dear Uncle,” I replied.
“So, why did you, sweet boy, came here?” he asked
“Dear Uncle, I have to tell you something,” I replied.
“Good! What is that?’ he asked.
“It’s about my roommates and those boys of Madrassa,” I replied.
“Oh! Okay, tell me, son,” he asked.
When I looked into his face, he appeared a good man. Therefore, I told him everything about Madrassa and what happened there. After he heard whatever I had come to tell him, he then very kindly said only one sentence.
“Okay, son, where’s your house located?” he asked.
“It’s on street 5thbehind the mosque,” I replied.
He dropped me to our home and talked to my grandma for a few minutes. Whatever they both talked about, I couldn’t hear it because I was standing a little far with his guard. He left us alone.
Night came. Dinner was ready. We gathered to have it. Suddenly the house door knocked. My father went to see who was there. When he returned he gave a look to me and then hugged me tightly. He pressed me to his chest. He cried much while hugging me. Actually, he spent lots of his tears. We didn’t know what was going on out there. Therefore, we were worried for what had happened to my father.
“The Madrassa is locked. Police arrested many of Mullahs. They found something from inside Madrassa,” he said.
Actually, he was talking to himself and his tears didn’t let him to stop crying.
“Madrassa is locked by governor’s order. The Madrassa has been active even fifty years. In fact, they abuse boy teenagers in these whole years. We were blind people and haven’t seen it. Even I didn’t believe my own son!”
He was talking to himself. Although my father was not happy he spent his tears because of his only son, me. But it was the good news I heard about Madrassa.
My father gave me a notebook which had red cover and a small pen.
“This is a gift from Razaq Khan,” he said.
“Razaq Khan!” I am surprised.
“Yes, Razaq Khan, the one you complained to about Madrassa,” he answered.
When I understood there is always a way to stand up against cruelty and abuse, it was the time when I knew how to keep humanity safe.
***
