Pigeon’s Meat

Only after giving Sakeena a good thrashing did Mullah Chiraghdin realize his folly. What he had taken as a sarcastic smile was actually the onset of palsey. His eldest daughter had not been smirking at his moralistic parables; rather, her face had been left contorted into a crooked smile by paralysis. This, of course, was a godsent opportunity to drive another important lesson home. “Look.” He said turning Sakeena’s tear stained smiling face to the younger three. “See what happens when you don’t repent from lying! Still, it is never too late. Let us promise Him that we shall never lie and also pray for His forgiveness. God reveals Himself in mysterious ways.”

Chiraghdin was the village mosque’s imaam. He was not as stonehearted a father as he would have his family believe, but he always remembered his mother’s advice in bringing up children: “Feed them lion’s share, and discipline them with a butcher’s stare.” Feeding and disciplining notwithstanding, he was really worried about Sakeena’s situation.

“I wonder if she will find a husband.” He said to his wife Zulekha.

“My father’s youngest sister had palsey,” said Zulekha. “I remember that grandmother used to feed her pigeons to cure it.”

“Of course, of course.” Said Chiraghdin impatiently. “Everyone knows that pigeon’s meat is a cure for the disease.”

“But where are we going to get pigeon’s meat from?” Asked his wife. “We don’t have the money for that.”

“Have faith in God, woman!” Said Chiraghdin as he stepped out of the room.

When he saw a pigeon sitting next to the mosque’s minaret the same evening he considered it more of a neighbourly gesture from God than a miracle. Although he was sure that the idea was blasphemous, he had never been able to stop himself from thinking that he shared his quarters with God, because he lived with his family in two rooms on the village mosque’s roof.

Indeed He reveals Himself in mysterious ways! Thought Chiraghdin, as he dragged on his hukah that night while he watched Sakeena pick the last traces of meat from the pigeon’s bones.

Next day, after the afternoon prayers, Karmoo approached Chiraghdin. Karmoo was the village landlord’s servant. “Imam Sahab,” Said Karmoo. “My wife was telling me that Sakeena is suffering from palsey. Is that true?”

“True.” Replied Chiraghdin. “God’s will. It is His way of testing us.” “

“Strange things are happening, Imaam Sahab.” Said Karmoo. “Your child gets palsey, and Chauhadry Sahab loses his beloved Shera. You know, his favourite pigeon. Shera always returns by evenings, but he never came back yesterday. Chauhadry Sahab is so grief stricken that he didn’t even come to the mosque today. I really pity whoever stole Shera because Chauhadry Sahab has vowed to make an example of the thief. Imaam Sahab, the older Chauhadry always says about the villagers - the kammis, that they should be fed lion’s share, and disciplined with butcher’s stare. Are you listening to me Imaam Sahab? These are strange times, aren’t they?”

“Huh!” Blurted out Chiraghdin. “Yes, indeed. He reveals himself in mysterious ways!”